Last Day

Today is the last day of the week with Braden, and then tomorrow starts the three days with Sam.  I honestly can’t conjure up enough excitement to keep working.  I haven’t had a day off for at least a week.  I’m trying not to complain, because I’m making money, and my college fund is going to be growing by leaps and bounds, but I’m exhausted.

I go home tonight, and I’m going to go straight to sleep.  I know one night isn’t enough to catch up on sleep (and you can’t really ever catch up), but I’m pretty excited to sleep in my own bed.

I’m also excited to see the animals, though I can’t say I missed Salem’s puppy bark.  I want to figure out why Jasper’s face is suddenly weird.

When I went home on Wednesday, I was visiting with the kittens, and Jasper saunters up to get some attention.  I don’t think anything of it, and then I take a double take.  There’s about two inches between her eyes now!  If you’ve read my about page, and followed all the links, you would see her nose is totally normal, and not thick at all.  When I go home tonight, I might be able to drag myself outside to take a picture of it, to compare.  There’s something wrong with her.  She looks like an impostor.  Maybe she is…


“Auel” the Way.

Yesterday, I stopped in at the library.  I gave up on “The Lord of the Rings”.  I did really enjoy reading them, but as the librarian told me, “they’re winter reading.”  I quite agree.

I returned to a series that I have read once or twice (actually, about 3 times) and I absolutely love.  “The Clan of the Cave Bear” is the first in the series.  I’m sure you’ve heard of it.  I’m kind of a fan, being that I own the (crappy!) movie.  I’m still waiting for the final book to come out.  (And I’ve been waiting for quite a while.)  The fan site told me a year ago that she was still writing it.  I checked today (and had to restrain myself from SCREAMING and DANCING) and the book will come out March 2011!  That’s less than a year!  That gives me time to read, and buy the rest of the series.  I love Jean M. Auel.

What authors do you enjoy reading?  What book (or books) can you read over and over, and enjoy every single time?

For me, it’s Jean M. Auel, “auel” the way. :)

Today, I’m going out to lunch with one of my teachers, Astrid, and then after that, we’re meeting some others in a coffee shop to discuss books.  We were supposed to read “Pride and Prejudice”, but I never got around to reading it.  I never had time.  I’m looking forward to seeing people from school again, because I’m going to be leaving in a few months, and not coming back for like, a year.

Last night, while I was reading “The Clan of the Cave Bear” (which I LOVE. I’m at the part where Ayla is learning names, and Mog-ur is doing the ceremony back to the very beginnings of life.), I heard poor Addison crying.  Apparently, Jasper didn’t know where to take her, and it was pouring rain.  I opened the back door a little bit, so they could take shelter in the porch, but I don’t know if they did or not, because at 12, when I had FINALLY gotten to sleep, I was woken up by these really long, high-pitched, drawn-out growls from the cats.  I lay there in bed listening to the growls, thinking about yelling at them, but not wanting to wake everyone up.  Finally, after hearing the two cats go at it, growling and hissing and dirt flying everywhere, I get up and “pssst!” out the window three times.  I hear them both run and hide, and I don’t wake up again during the night.

Maybe my camera will show up today while I’m gone at lunch, and I can take photos of what I’ve been dying to capture; poppies (almost dead by now), baby Addison, lush landscapes, and I’m sure I could find other things to photograph as well.  My posts have been in need of pictures, because all this plain text gets boring after a while.  It better show up before Florida…

Cries in the Dark

Last night, after getting off the phone with Kyle, I got back online to finish my profile at enannysource (I’m still looking for jobs…) and while I was sitting and waiting for my photo to upload, I hear tiny little kitty cries.  I sneak out to the dining room window, and listen.  I hear little rustles, and then even louder, more cries.  I go to my room to slip my flip-flops on, grab a flashlight and I sneak out the door, being careful not to slam it so I don’t scare the kitty away.

When I’m standing outside in the dark, with the cool air carressing my bare skin, I hear the cries, and they’re sounding more frantic by the second.  I see a blur streak by my feet; Jasper (the female kitty).  I follow her, and end up at a little sheltered part of the back of the house where old bikes are rusting and collecting dust.  I set the flashlight down on one of the metal seats (the base is magnetic) and point the light where I want it.

With the flashlight pointed where the rustling is coming from, I see a tiny black form, huddled under some cardboard.  When I move so my feet don’t fall asleep, the little form hisses and spits, sounding terrifying.  I want to comfort the poor little guy, left all alone with the wind howling in the night.  The best thing I can think of is to lift Jasper down to the kitten.

Bad idea.

The kitten spits and hisses and hits at her.  I start to wonder if the kitten is indeed Jasper’s.  After awhile, I go back inside, and try to ignore the sad little cries floating in the window.

This morning, I peek out the window to see if the little thing is still there.  I don’t see it, and feel a pang of sadness.  When I creep outside through the long grass, trying to be quiet, I find the kitten huddled deeper under the cardboard.  I talk to him a little bit, surprised that he’s not spitting and hissing at me.  Just meowing his plaintive cry.  His eyes are all crusty and oozing, a sign of malnutrition.

I run inside and tell Pat about the little guy, and after he gets done showering he go outside and look at the little thing, huddled all alone.

I take Pat to work, all the while thinking of ways to catch him without getting eaten alive.  When I get home, I get leather gloves, and a deep cardboard boax, because kittens are like Houdini’s, right?  I walk out to where he’s hidden, and reach down to pet him.  He just cries.  I take one glove off, and pet him with the tips of my fingers.  Then I figure he’s harmless, and lift him out.  I set him in my lap, and he burrows into my belly, crying in his sad little voice.

When I set him down next to Jasper, to see if he is her’s, he crawls to her belly and latches on.  Jasper doesn’t move.  I pet the little guy, and cuddle him every few minutes.

He’s finally calmed down, and doesn’t make the little heartwrenching cries as much, and I’m thinking about names.  He’s an adorable little thing, fuzzy and sweet.  When his eyes are open enough despite the gunk, his eyes are a newborn, milky blue.  I’d take a picture, but you know, my camera is missing.  Someday, you’ll see how painfully adorable the little thing is.

But today, he’s all mine. :)