Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Before I get into anything else, and there is always an anything else, I first have to talk about Anty’s writing this week. This week, Anty sent off the first chapter of Her Last First Kiss that is ready for critique, to Miss N. This is her second draft, with some new things in it, and she is a little nervous and a little excited to have other eyes on this new version. She will see what Miss N thinks, and know more about that on Tuesday. That is still a few days away.
Miss Ezrah at Buried Under Romance fought the hackers and won (I think she is a warrior princess) so Anty was able to post a new installment of Saturday Discussion there. It is here:
and it looks like this:
Anty is also working to get current with her chapter for Anty Melva in the Beach Ball, which she had hoped to get done sooner than now, but it has been a week. She is also working on posts for Heroes and Heartbreakers. Some of those mean she needs to do some reading first, so she is looking at her available time to see when she can do that. Her goal is to get her desk clear and then pitch new posts, as well as work on books.
Sometimes, being a domestic warrior queen does not play well with that goal. Take today, for instance. Anty had wanted to get my picture for today’s blog before she had her big laundry morning. She had one load to do for Mama and then a big load to do for herself and uncle. I am a kitty, and do not need laundry because I do not wear clothes. I have fur. I also did not want my picture taken, and kept walking away any time Anty had her phone out. I did not feel like staying still. Anty did not know why, but she was focused on the laundry anyway. She likes to get laundry done in the morning, when the Laundromat is most quiet, so she can spend some time reading or writing while her clothes get clean.
Today was not one of those days. It was not quiet. The first time Anty went to the Laundromat, she shut off her phone, because there was a person there who wanted to talk to her, and she wanted to listen. Also, the custodian was there, making sure the building was clean. Anty figured she could read things and listen to music on her second laundry trip (it is a good thing we live kitty-corner -I am disappointed that it does not have anything to do with actual kitties, except maybe that I am one- from the Laundromat.) Anty had been wearing old clothes to do laundry in, and, while she was getting the big load together, she heard a tear. She had figured she could get one more wear out of that pair of jeans, but she was wrong. Time to change, so she did.
Then she came home. I was curled in a very nice ball, in front of the heater, and Anty knelt to take my picture. Then she stopped. Something was wrong. That thing would be that she realized she was kneeling in a puddle of my, um, stuff. For those of you who are new readers (hello!) I have special paws, so I do not climb. That means that I do not use a litterbox, even though many other kitties do. I have a special spot on the floor where I do my stuff, and, usually, I will let a human know when I need to go. This time, though, Uncle was at work and Anty was at the Laundromat. I did what I had to do.
As soon as Anty figured out what was going on, she got up, put the pee pads down on my puddle, and then Febreezed herself. That did not do the trick. She let out a long breath, stared down at her clothes and vowed she was not going to make three Laundromat trips in one day. Even if that would allow her to get current with the linens. Anty considers laundry to be therapeutic, but even she has her limits. It was laundry or writing, and, this time, writing won. That is a good thing, because Anty gets cranky when she is away from her writing for too long. Some times, writing has to come first, even when cat, um, stuff is involved. That is a sign of true dedication, if you ask me. Plus, humans seem to like putting on clothes warm from the dryer, so, from a certain perspective, I did her a favor.
That is about it for this week, because Anty is burning daylight. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)