Hello, all. Skye here, for a special midweek edition of Typing With Wet Claws. This is a very busy day for Anty, so she asked if I would fill in for her, even though it is not Friday. I drive a hard bargain. This is going to require extra treat, but it will be worth it. For me, anyway.
Anty is not sure if she is still sick, or if she is sick again (probably that one, because she was feeling better from before) but she is feeling under the weather today. Mama and Uncle told her she will feel better if she takes a couple of days off. She does not agree, because she already feels behind, but, since she closed her eyes yesterday morning “for a minute,” and woke five and a half hours later, I think they may be in the right on this one. That is okay, because I am here to serve as nurse, so she is in very good hands, by which I mean paws. (Those would be mine; nursing is one of the many duties of a mews.)
Right now, Anty is under her fuzzy duck blankey in the comfy chair (I sit right near her feet in case she needs anything important, like to pet or feed a kitty, because I am one,) poking at a scene for her novella and thinking about a nap. She is reluctant to actually take the nap because The Handyman (I think he is a superhero) has to come back (he was here in the morning) to replace a broken part in the heating machine in the basement. When he comes, he will ring the doorbell, and it will be loud. I will run under the bed in Anty and Uncle’s bedroom (bad things cannot reach me if I am under their bed) and Anty will answer the door. Our doorbell is very, very loud and very, very old, and we can feel it as much as hear it when it rings. Anty says it is prewar. I do not know what that means, but it sounds important.
Normally, Anty likes to get out of the house for a couple of hours each day. This is important to extroverts, to be around a lot of people, so being stuck at home is not the most fun thing ever, especially when she already feels sluggish. Sometimes, having the TV on or talking to people online is sort of like being around people, even if it is not exactly the same. Mama and Uncle will be back from their jobs in a few hours. Anty will be very glad to see them. Especially if one of them wants to make dinner. Let me rephrase that. When one of them makes dinner. Or brings it. Either way. I told Anty she could have some of my fish jelly (that is what I eat; it is delicious) if she wanted, but she said that is kitty food, not people food, so she could not accept. That makes sense. I am a kitty, and I am not allowed to eat people food (although Uncle made some sausages, cooked in chicken broth, a while ago, that I though smelled very, very, very interesting, but he did not let me have any.) I think she would feel better with tea and a cookie, and we have both of those things here. She should probably also take a nap.
She has thought about watching a movie, but, then again, The Handyman could arrive at any time, so probably best not to get too involved with something like that. Maybe The Handyman will not come until Mama and/or Uncle come home, and then they can let him in. I would, but I am not allowed downstairs, and I cannot reach the doorknob. Maybe I could if I stood on my hind legs, but I do not know if that is possible. I have never tried. I think I am better at moral support, anyway.
Sometimes, when Anty’s brain is busy, but her body is tired, the best thing to do is snuggle under the blankeys and do some serious thinking about her stories. Anty says it is like watching a movie in her head, and she can write down what happens later. I think that is very resourceful of her. Mama and Uncle may think that she is taking their advice and napping when they see that, but usually, it is the movie in the head thing. That can be very hard for some writers to turn off, and some, like Anty, don’t want to turn it off if they have anything to say about it. I do not know if that actually counts as resting or not, but the whole movie in her head thing seems to make Anty less cranky, so I suppose it is a good thing.
That is about it for our special midweek edition, so until Friday, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)