The Carol of the Ember

(Dulce, with some apologies to John Rutter)

There has been cleaning and packing and painting
Dust and fur tumbleweeds vacuumed away
Momma has wrestled a piece of the forest
Into the parlor and now decorates.

Gloria! Gloria!
Who is this person?
Gloria! Gloria!
What’s with this tree?
Gloria! Gloria!
This is quite confusing
There’s all this fuss, but it’s not about me.

I like the smell of this piece of the forest
I like the taste of the fruitcake and cheese
I like the people who offer to scritch me
They all seem tame and seem eager to please.

Gloria! Gloria!
Why inflate this mattress?
Gloria! Gloria!
It’s in my way!
Gloria! Gloria!
Out of Momma’s office!
Go sing more songs about babies in hay.

After the fussing, the feasting, and singing
After the guests have fin’lly gone away
Momma and Other Mom sit sipping eggnog
Smiling at sparklies and watching me play.

Gloria! Gloria!
Eggnog and day old!
Maybe that isn’t quite
What all they say?
Gloria! Gloria!
Someone was born!
Gloria! Gloria!
I can sleep near Momma
The house is quiet
And Momma is warm.

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Ember Update

You weren’t planning on using this space, were you?

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Kitten update

  

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She’s Actual Size

…but she keeps getting larger….

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Ember size update

No, I don’t normally dress to match my kitten….

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When she’s not running, pouncing, or climbing…

She’s asleep.

While on the topics of kitties and dreams coming true, this celebratory installment of Breaking Cat News is full of win.

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Just as soon as I figure out how this works….

I shall take this sock and sacrifice it from the highest peak, that you should know the world is MINE….

Actually, Ember is quite good at climbing, and leaping, and now is also reasonably expert in driving our 14 yr old cat crazy.  But there are times when her motor skills or understanding of the world are juuuuuuust shy of what she would like them to be, and you can see the frustration flare in her body language.  The whites of her eyes are suddenly visible, her back arches one way and her head twists in a rival direction….back and forth. She pauses, then picks up speed.  Stops abruptly and makes a sharp cough-spitting sound — “HKkkkh-Kh!” — drops to the floor from wherever she’s climbed, and bolts away.

The currently trendy term “adulting” seems best applied to all those activities which are NOT flailing, spitting, and running in response to stressful situations.  It’s not that we don’t want to do those feral things, but that we have enough experience to look down the road and see that the consequences don’t get us any closer to resolving those stressors.

Would that more people could get out of their own ids long enough to ‘adult’.  Lives would be saved.  Dignity spared. Progress could be made.

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