Hello, all. Skye here, for a very wet Feline Friday. We are still on the move this week, currently staying with a friend whom I will refer to as Agent X. Uncle is still working out the wholr hunt for a new apartment thing, so this will be another very special blog entry, that does not follow the usual format.
In the time since we left our old apartment, I have become a seasoned traveler. Two motels in the last week, and now Agent X’s lair. I did have to spend more time than I wanted in the carrier yesterday, but Anty fogured out that, if she opened the carrier dooor, but kept the car door closed, there would be enough room to get her hand in there, so she could pet me or feed me spoonfuls of cat food. That part was kind of nice.
Anty is almost at the end of her page goal for Camp NaNo this session, and that is even with all of our travels. I think she is doing all right with that, and that, probably, writing the whole thing on longhand does make it go smoother than using the computer. Her desktop is currently in storage, and she misses it very much. She has Big Pink, though, and her laptop is accessible, so being away from her desktop does not mean she is not writing. She is almost done with her current morning pages book, which is always an achievement. Add that to a very likely Camp NaNo win, and those will be two good things coming out of our adventure.
On the reading front, Anty is tearing through realistic YA books at an impressive pace. This does not go very far in advancing her goal of reading more historical romance novels, but the tide will turn, especially once we are settled in a new apartment and the carrier is put away for a long, long time. Maybe I care more about the carrier patt than Anty does, but here is a fun fact: in a pinch, the top of my carrier makes a decent desk/dinner table. We did not know that before this week.
For those who wonder where the smell of Uncle’s shirts comes into play, it is here. Usually, Anty gets me into the carrier by turning it on its end, so the door is on top. Then she grabs me and stuffs me inside, closes the door, and off we go. Usually after a valiant efgort on my part.
Not this time. This time, Anty learned a new trick. That first method comes from one of Anty’s own antys. This new one, I think she read somewhere, and it is the work of an evil genius.
One might think that Uncle’s shirts (and other personal garments, but I am only going to say shirts, because maybe not everybody wants to read about Uncle’s unmentionables) smell of happiness and love, and they do, but they also snell of betrayal. I haf seen the carrier already, so I knew we were in for something, but I expect3d the old way, not this.
This time, Anty put the carriet on the floor, with the door open. Then, she put the shirt and other garment Uncle slept in, into the carrier. I, of course, investigated, because of the wonderful smell. Then, Anty shoved my backside all the way in, and bam, closed door. I did not see that coming. It worked the next time, too. It will probably work every time, to be honest (I am always honest) because Uncle is my favorite and I love him the most.
This is probably the part of my post where I bring the part about my week around to Anty’s writing. This is also, I think, the weekend of NECRWA’s conference, which is one of Anty’s favorite parts of the year. This year, she is not there, because we have our travels, and it is an adventure. She does miss all of the free books and swag, but she has stayed in two motels, rather than one hotel, so she has that going for her, and the interwebs allows her to talk with her writer friends anyway, and get conference updates wherever she is.
Most importantly, there is writing. Anty can do that anywhere, and if she can do it in the middlebof this, I do not think there is any stopping her.
That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
( the kitty, not the book)