Neurotic



This is a picture of the newest addition to our family, a reclusive elderly lady cat named Gigi. She used to live with my sweet mother-in-law, but now she lives with us -- and I'm not sure she's very happy about it. But to tell the truth it's difficult to know. She was a recluse even when she and Grandma Donna lived together, rarely coming out of the closet she had chosen as her cozy spot. Her core of sweetness shone, though, when, as Donna became less able to come and go, Gigi began to creep out at night to sleep on her feet -- a great comfort, as you can imagine.

These days, she has two cozy spots. Her preference is to camp under the tall boy's bed, at the exact center of the space -- where she is completely unreachable. He's fine with this, except for the part about how she would really prefer to have her food bowl shoved under the bed, too -- so that she doesn't have to make eye contact with anyone. I did say "reclusive."

So she makes do with an alternate cozy spot in our storage room. From her strategic location she can fend off the potential threat of . . . well, pretty much anything that seems scary. The family, the other two cats, the dogs, the phone, the light coming on . . . The world is pretty menacing according to Gigi.


Boxed up on the way to the vet, Gigi punched herself in the nose in an effort to fight the evil cat carrier. Then she realized that a crate is a perfectly perfect cozy spot.


But rarely, rarely, she creeps out in the middle of the night, like Grizabella the Glamour Cat, and timidly makes her way to the bottom of the stairs. Twice now, in seven months, she has made it all the way up to the kitchen, to peek around the corner and see if the coast was clear. Then she made a break for the powder room (cozy) and curled up on the throw rug for a nap. Global Anxiety Disorder is exhausting.


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Advent books!

December 20:



OK, so here's a book that was pointed out to me by MomVee, over on Facebook.  She loved it to the point of tears, she said. So like an idiot, I went to the library to look for it, and sat there and cried, right there in Mother Goose's Storybook Time Chair. Embarrassing. Patricia Polacco tells a loving and nostalgic story about a Christmas tradition from her childhood, and pays sweet tribute to her youngest brother at the same time.

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December 21:



The phenomenally wonderful Ezra Jack Keats (you already love him because of The Snowy Day) illustrates this book, with beautiful pictures to accompany the well-known carol.  The warmth and detail of the drawings are lovely. You can get this as a board book, which makes sense -- the repetitive "pa-rum-pa-pum-pum" of the song is a mesmerizing magnet for babies and toddlers, so a sturdy board book for them to "read" while they sing is a fabulous thing.

. . . because kittens!


So we are floating on a wave of happy around here because kittens!

 

And believe it -- objectively speaking, I could throw some weighty "woe is me" statements around,
but I can't because kittens! 



I mentioned a while ago that some heavy-duty shit has gone down amongst the family et cetera, but: kittens! 



The heavy-duty has stuck around, and it does suck sometimes to be a grownup,
 but I think I'll make it because kittens!



And the sunny girl will definitely tell you:  "Kittens!"



This even though she is contemplating her junior year of high school.  Angst!  Angst!  Oh, wait -- kittens!



So I do know everything is eventually going to be OK.  Because kittens!


Book Lovers' Advent Calendar: Day Eight


Well, so this book has always been in my family's basket of Christmas stories, even though to some its connection to the Advent and Christmas season might seem a little tenuous.  But bear with me!  The story of The Painter's Cat concerns Micio, the spoiled kitty who belongs to an Italian painter.  Micio is a little miffed when his owner ignores him in order to concentrate on a painting.  Micio decides to head out on his own, but soon realizes that he misses the life of an artist's cat.  When he returns home, he discovers that he has been given a prominent place in his owner's painting -- his owner must have missed him, too!


Our cat-loving family was tickled by this kitty's-eye view of the creation of a real Renaissance painting: Micio takes center stage in Lorenzo Lotto's The Annunciation.  And that's where the Advent part comes in; this painting depicts the moment when Mary is visited by the angel Gabriel, who tells her what God asks of her.
 Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God's favor.  Look!  You are to conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus.  He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High.  The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.  (Luke 1: 30-33)

See!  That's pretty Christmas-y! 

Our copy of this gorgeously illustrated storybook came from the sunny girl's godmother.  We have loved it ever since -- and every time we read it, we think of our dear Lou.  So that makes it double fabulous!

Glamour Cat

So here's our ancient and elegant cat, Phantom. The husband and I have had several cat companions during our twenty-two years of marriage, but I have to say that of all of them, Phantom was the most beautiful. We said good-bye to her yesterday, which was sad, but not surprising, since she was twenty-four years old.

I know, right?

My mom took her in as a stray twenty-three years ago, and named her after the Phantom of the Opera -- because she wore a spiffy tuxedo and a strategically placed brown mask. She seemed a little spooky, too, like a glamorous ghost -- but it turned out she was just easily spooked.

We inherited her when my dad remarried, and have loved her for the past twelve years. Sweet, shy, and a little goofy like most calicos, she was always willing to be bossed around by Annie the Wonder Cat -- but I have seen her punch a passing dog in the nose, just because.

We will miss her.