Typing With Wet Claws: Under the Bed Edition (With Notebooks)

Hello all, Skye here for another Feline Friday. This week’s entry is later than usual, because Anty is taking a half day to rest. Also because I am under the bed. No, I do not want to say why, but I am pretty sure that loud thing that goes by our house in the morning is a cat zamboni, and I want to make sure it does not get me. Sometimes, when it gets especially loud, I think it might be stuck on a tabby, and I am one, so I will stay under the bed for now.

Yesterday, Anty got three blog entries written, two of them posted (one of those in two different places) and looked over notes from the new critique group she visited the night before. She says it was super cold walking to the library against the wind, and she did spend a whole hour waiting in the wrong meeting room (but does not mind too much, because she wrote and writing time is always good) but she likes the group and will go back. As she expected, her pages were everybody’s first introduction to historical romance. She thinks that is kind of special. There were no kitties in anybody’s story, which I find disappointing, but that’s how life goes sometimes.

i1035 FW1.1i1035 FW1.1

Anty and Mama ran a couple of errands after dropping Uncle off at work today, and Anty came home with the notebook in the top picture, above. She already had the one in the bottom picture, and it is almost full. She did not need a new notebook, especially not one to to with this particular topic (it is on its 2nd and a half notebook already) and she prefers for all notebooks on one subject to go together, but the looks of the two books agreed (she even checked them against each other because the store still had copies of the spiral notebook) and the bond was strong, so the new one came home. Also, she likes the words on the cover, and those suggested what she can do with the new book.

This goes along with Anty being in the magpie stage. Things will have connections to her, and she will need to put them together, in different combinations, until they become something cohesive and new. These notebooks go with the first notebook she started on this subject, and the one that I peed on (and that she fixed) and also with some other things. Lists of songs that suggest a certain kind of story, images of different things (some of which she will print out on the new printer when the new computer arrives -I will probably go under the bed again when that happens, because I am pretty sure there is going to be noise involved. Also furniture moving around and there may be boxes. I am pretty sure there will be boxes.)

Now that spring is here, Anty is getting ready to go to the Let Your Imagination Take Flight conference next month. It is put on by NECRWA, the chapter Anty is gone all day long when she has a meeting, and she will be gone overnight. That makes me sad, but I will have some special time with Uncle. I can probably convince him to give me some extra treat to make up for how sad I am. Then I will not be sad. Well, not about not having enough treat. I will still miss Anty until she comes home. She will have new things with her when she does get back; free books and bookmarks and pens and other interesting things, especially things that crinkle. I like things that crinkle. If she brings home any sticky notes, she will crumple some and let me play with them. If you are going to be there, too, Anty would love to say hello and chat for a bit.

Along with writing and blogging and trying the new group, Anty had a new post go up at Heroes and Heartbreakers. She got to read The Warlord’s Wife by Sandra Lake before it went on sale. That is pretty special. You can read what she thought about it here.

Anty says it is getting late and she wants the computer so she can play Sims, so that will be it for this week. There is food in my bowl, so I will probably come out sooner rather than later so I can eat it. I want to make really really sure the cat zamboni is gone first.

Until next week...

Until next week…

Until next week, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

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