Never Look a Furniture Gift Horse In The Mouth

Right now, our bedroom looks like the back room of a furniture warehouse. It started like this: Saturday, the first of our current hot spell, Real Life Romance Hero went out for some fresh air, while yours truly flopped in front of the fan in pajama shorts and t-shirt. RLRH returns after a curiously short time outside. Not a full return, as he calls up to me from the landing to ask if I can “put on some clothes real quick and help (him) with something.

Public service announcement: do not say that to someone with anxiety. Please be specific about what the something is.

I don my Reasonable Adult Human disguise, casual version, and bop down the stairs, reminding myself it’s not always a crisis, okay? It wasn’t…mostly. There is RLRH, surrounded by desk parts (one big, two small) and a tall dresser. There is also a futon frame with cushion. RLRH informs me that Neighbor is moving out and said we could have the furniture he doesn’t want to move to the new place. I am not going to look a furniture gift horse in the mouth.

Photo by Max Vakhtbovych on Pexels.com

How, though, are we going to get all that stuff (minus the futon, because although we are reasonably sure there are no b-e-d-b-u-g-s involved, we have been down that road and are NOT taking any chances on an encore. Sprft stuff must be new, or from someone we know personally. RLRH says that all we have to do is get the big pieces inside gthe front door, into the entry, and we can close the front door and figure out the rest later. There is a brief discussion as to what this would mean for our in-building neighbors, a group which includes the owners, but the absence of the canine alert system, aka Barkhemian Rhapsody, satisfies us that this is a weekend neither neighbors are in residence.)

I still have my doubts, but A) I have known RLRH longer than I did not know him, and I know when dissuading him is a lost cause, and B) determination looks darned good on him. Also C, it’s good furniture and costs nothing. Okay. We get big desk part mostly inside the vestibule (and a little on the stairs.)

Here enters our third player, whom I will call Superdude. Superdude is a gentleman probably a little older than us, and is possessed of a muscular athletic build. He sees RLRH preparing to haul big dresser part up the outisde stairs and asks if we would like some help. It’s okay, he says, he cleared it with his wife. We thankfully accept his kind offer. Bim bam boom, a few minutes later, Superdude and RLRH have all the big parts upstairs. We chat for a few minutes, about how friendly neighbors are around here (they are) and how it’s important for community members to look out for each other (which it is) and social privilege (we all agreed that, by appearance alone, RLRH and I would have certain privileges that Superdude would not, baed on the amount of melanin in our skin.)

Superdude, as it turns out, lives two blocks away from us, which puts him on the same block as the hospital, so RLRH and I suspect Superdude is most likely some sort of professional. We will probably run into him again, and I hope we have another good talk.

Yesterday was a hot day, and as I do not summer well, my best way to get through the worst of the day was to sleep through it. I wake to Housemate’s return from work, and her question of where we got those lamps in the master bedroom. Huh? I told her she knows where we got the lamps in the master bedroom. We got them from her mom. She was there. But no, Housemate insists, the floor lamps. Oh. Well. When I went to sleep we did not have floor lamps, but I had told RLRH we needed some. I take a look. There are indeed floor lamps. I wait for RLRH’s return and ask him if it’s Moving Out Neighbor. He confrims that it was. No Superdude needed this time. Lightbulbs, though, those we need. I will add them to the grocery list.

Lassitude

This post is not about Scottish heroines. At least not intentionally. This is one of those posts where I throw semi-random words onto the page because that still counts as a blog entry. In short, I will babble. Let’s start with the dictionary definition:

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/lassitude

Definition of lassitude 1 : a condition of weariness or debility : fatigue The patient complained of headache, nausea, and lassitude . 2 : a condition characterized by lack of interest, energy, or spirit : languor surrendered to an overpowering lassitude , an extreme desire to sit and dream — Alan Moorehead

Photo by Lina Kivaka on Pexels.com

Nothing is wrong, everyone is fine, but it’s a summer day here in NY’s Capitol Region. Temperatures are predicted to hover around eighty-five degrees, there is some humidity, and yesterday’s errands exposed me to too much sun. Nothing shade, hydration, and rest can’t remedy. Since the compulsory tasks for today are this blog entry and a re-do of the second Zoomer Times interview, as the interview from last week has, in the words of our technical mastermind, has hied itself off to video heaven. Better than video hell, I would imagine, and I like giving interviews, so this is not a bad thing by any means.

Real Life Romance Hero is off today, too, so the temptation to take a couple of hours is to hang with my favorite person is strong. RLRH and I love these found afternoons, I have an audiobook waiting for my listening pleasure, there are new highlighters to swatch, and though I brought home my first art magazine in two years (!) I haven’t had a chance to actually read it. Not to mention books electronic and paper, and pens and notebooks for letting my mind wander but leave a trail when it does. I do have a video script to write, as that’s the sort of thing I can do with other people around/other things going on . Fiction needs more concentration.

I may also take a look at the backlog of shows I have accumulating on streaming service. Some days, especially summer days, are made for refueling, sprawled in front of the TV (or laptop) with the windows open for cross breeze, cat and Significant Other co-lazing, letting our brains off-leash.

How about you? How do you let your brain off the leash on lazy days?

Summer, Is That You?

Saturday afternoon, I took my first summer nap of the year. That means snoozing through the heat of the day, then being up and doing stuff in the afternoon and evening. This week, Housemate and I will brave the wilds of storage to retrieve what summer clothing remains and did not get worn to death last summer during our vagabond time. Temperatures should be in the mid 80s by the middle of this week :whimper: and friends have been posting baby waterfowl pictures, so odds that the young ones will be present in the lake in the park near our house are high.. That sounds like a morning thing.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Not this morning, as what’s left of it is dedicated to the blog, and then it’s time for domestic warrior queen side quests. I’d hoped to get more work done on the two Drama King scenes I have to revise, but I had also planned to do my weekly planning on Sunday. That did not happen because it turned into a do nothing day. I hate do nothing days. I want the day to have some purpose. Preferably with other people around. I ended up playing Sims, due to an empty tank, and then tackled the planning this morning.

Well, first wave of planning. I am totally over the vertical lined layout in my classic planner, and I am itchy to dive into my bright, shiny new July start classic planner, with its sophisticated florals and vertical layout sans lines, but we still have June to get through first. In between, for a writer who loves to plan, is madness. I’m not too concerned, though, because figuring stuff out is kind of my thing, and I will probably find something nifty to tide me through and carry over, even.

When I was a kid, summer seemed like three months of freedom (except for day camp, which probably saved my mother’s sanity, even if it was a mixed bag for me. Stay at home parents of gifted kids, we salute you.) and the one summer we lived in Pound Ridge, I discovered the joys of walking in from the scorching heat of the day into the air conditioned family room, which I liked so much that I did, upon occasion, repeat that action several times in a row merely for the delight of the difference. Delight on the air conditioned side, that is, because I am hard no on hot weather.

One of the perils of naming a heroine in a book that gets back burner-ed for an extended period of time after a season is that every time that season rolls around, her name rolls around, and that results in some serious shifty eyes between writer and manuscript.

Oddly enough, the name of said heroine is Summer, though she has nothing to do with the Zooey Deschanel movie (which I still need to see) I originally conceived of her story as a time travel, but I don’t know if it is anymore. Quite possibly, what I tried to do and then couldn’t do, was shove a ten pound cat into a two pound bag. Maybe a whole litter of cats. I have said before that I will have to write her story, because if I don’t, she will come after me and drag me back into it. She’d do it, too, so it’s on the list, though absolutely no idea what it will ultimately be. Her and her hero, that’s the core. Anything else is extra.

Insert your own ice cream topping analogy here. That seems summery enough. What’s on the docket for your week?

Typing With Wet Paws: Post-Interview Drive-by Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! Only a quick drive by post today, because Aunt Anna had her and Aunt Melva’s second interview with Zoomer Times. Aunt Anna says the interview was super fun, and she will share a link as soon as she has it. In the meantime, here is a super cute picture of me:

this image is of a calico cat, with orange  fur over one one eye, and black fur around the other. She is sitting up in a doorway, her expression alert and interested.
please to note my carefully tucked tail

It’s been a good writing and researching week over here, at least where Aunt Anna is concerned. I, of course, am sticking very close to her so that I can provide inspiration and support. Behind every successful writer is a cat. Usually right behind. The writers who don’t think they have cats behind them don’t know that the cats are ninjas. True story.

On the me front, I am very excited about some new boxes that have arrived in the house. Those are for Aunt Linda’s birthday, which was last Saturday. Actually, the stuff inside the boxes are for her. The boxes, though, they are mine. At least until recycling day. I still get to keep my big-big box, though, so I have no complaints.

Aunt Anna has to go out to the paper bag store, so I will have to sign off for now, but who knows, I may pop up for a special blog when you least suspect.

Headbonks!

Storm

Ripped From The Journal Pages

Yesterday was a good writing day. Like, a really good writing day. The super functional monthly view of planning my writing tasks seems to be working super well, on this second week of doing it. Okay, the edges of the pages are decorated, but every daily box is only black ballpoint bullet lists of writing stuff I want to accomplish. There’s household stuff in there, too, so for June, I will be splitting those into two different calendars. It usually stays on the kitchen table (my temporary desk) next to me, open, for easy reference, especially when new things like deadlines or interviews crop up during the day.

trust me, there is a lot more written in those boxes now

It’s also already allowing me to spot patterns. The day after my weekly chat with Melva is usually best as a lighter day. Since this week, we met on Tuesday, that means that today is a lighter day. It’s also a blog day. I can bypass the “what do I blog about” problem by noting beforehand things I find interesting and want to blabber about for an entry. Yesterday, it was this from my morning pages:

Today is a writing day!!! Not staring at a blank wall and cranking out words (Editing Anna interrupts: if that is your best way to work, this is not a drag on that. You do you. Crank on, you magnificent cryptid.) I would rather deck a sylvan glade with fairy lights and invite my imaginary friends (aka characters) to dance. The band would be Right Said Fred

and classic era Monkees

Coin flip for who headlines and who opens. I’m good either way. The dance floor lights in tune to the music, and there is a bottomless buffet off to the side, with mismatched chairs and settees arranged in conversation groups around an assortment of small tables. Besides their own songs, the bands cover “Dance With Me” as well as “Moondance” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.”

The air is not too hot and not too cold. It’s a night that could last forever, and, technically, it can. That’s one of the things I love about writing romance. Happily ever after means forever.

I’ll stop it for there, since I have been called back to the dance floor, as it were. The bands are jamming, the lights are twinkling, and the breeze feels like a kiss on my skin.

One more thing: you, yes you, are most definitely invited.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/historical-40142765check out this historical era poll on my Patreon

Typing With Wet Paws: Memories of Cat Cr*ck Edition

Tails up ,Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This has been a pretty good writing week for Aunt Anna. She is only two units away from being done with this round of edits for A Heart Most Errant, and she and Aunt Melva are working at getting Drama King ready to submit at the end of the month. Aunt Anna is also setting up the revisions for the second half of Her Last First Kiss, because she’s figured out what was probably the roadblock, and getting past that will actually be fun.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

Let’s get the Aunt Anna stuff out of the way before we can get to the important part, aka me. The super functional planning thing seems to be working well as a base and then she can make things pretty later on; then I can help her by bopping things with my paws. Sometimes, I might try to make off with a pen or roll of washi, but seriously, who wouldn’t? Also, sitting on open notebooks or planners is super fun. Open ones are far better than closed ones, but I will sit on a closed one if that is all there is, especially if Aunt Anna needs it.

Let’s start with Aunt Anna’s Goodreads challenge. As of today, Aunt Anna is holding steady at 45 books read out of her goal of 90, which puts her at 50% of the way there, and fourteen books ahead of schedule. She did get two e-books out of the library for her new Kindle Fire, which runs super fast, so that number will be going up soon.

Aunt Anna is on fire with the Buried Under Romance post this past week, talking about classic historical romances on Kindle Unlimited (not sponsored) which is very useful for planning out her reading agenda for the immediate future. What will she write about this week? Stop by Buried Under Romance tomorrow and find out. My suggestions: books with cats in them. We’re awesome.

greatest hits picture b/c Aunt Anna needs more caffiene rn

Okay, so now we get to the me part. A couple of days ago, I was helping Aunt Anna the way I always do, by hanging out very near her while she writes. Uncle Rheuben was home, and his way of helping her write is to be not-near her so that she can concentrate. She’s super into him, as you can probably guess. Also, he has homework he has to do on his own computer. Sometimes, though, he has to come into the kitchen, where Aunt Anna writes right now, because the kitchen is where they keep the people food.

Aunt Anna has bright pink kitty ear headphones, with lights she can turn on to mean Do Not Interrupt. If the lights are flashing, then Really Do Not Interrupt. This time, the lights were off, so talking to her is okay if it is important. This time, he did his “this is important” thing, so she took off the headphones. That’s when Uncle Rheuben pointed to me and said he didn’t like the way I was looking at the oven.

Okay, first of all, the oven wasn’t on, so I wouldn’t have got scorched paws or anything if I did put my paws on the oven door. Second of all, I have already been on the counter, on the day we moved into this apartment. Aunt Anna had told me, super loud, NOT FOR KITTIES, so I know not to go on the counter. ‘Not for kitties’ is the phrase I know that means I should leave something alone. That was the only time I had ever been on the counter. I know when Aunt Anna means business, and she totally did. No cats on counters.

Anyway, there was a discussion then about whether I had the same look about me as I did back when I was getting used to these guys, and the Cat Crack Incident happened. Back then, we were vagabonding, and were in a motel at the time. The humans were still figuring out what I like to eat, and got cans of gushy food that we will refer to as Cat Crack as the humans don’t remember its actual name. Needless to say, I LOVED the Cat Crack. The humans put it on top of the clothing rack, on a big shelf.

I wanted that Cat Crack. It was all I could think about. Uncle Rheuben, who at the time was known only as Belly Rub Guy, was trying to sleep. I got on the bed with him and looked at him, then looked at the clothes on the coat rack. The coat rack was right below the shelf where the Cat Crack was. If I jumped off Belly Rub Guy’s face, I could land on his sweatshirt, claws out, climb the sweatshirt, haul myself onto the rack, and then the Cat Crack would be mine, all mine.

Unfortunately, I did not carry out that plan , but Uncle Rheuben has never forgotten that look. He has a super good memory. I will neither confirm nor deny any plans for adventures in the kitchen, but theoretically, if I were to get on the counter, I could probably make it to the top of the refrigerator, and then be on top of the world. There is no Cat Crack there, though. Only bread and usually the crock pot. A cat can dream, though. I’ll keep you updated.

Headbonks!

Nightmares, Super Functional Planning, and Other Stories

This is partly Monday’s post and it partly isn’t. I’d intended to get a regulalr post up on Monday because A) that’s what Monday posts are for, and B) I like sharing my monthly planner setups (yes, plural) at the start of a new month, especially because things in general are feeling okay for the first time in a long time, and that is definitely something I want to share here. My brain, however, had other ideas. Honestly, sometimes my brain is kind of a jerk. At the very least, she gets weird homework.

All of that is a fancy way of saying that Sunday night, I had the worst nightmare I can remember having, ever, though I thankfully don’t remember much about it, and I’m okay now. Though it was not at alla fun experience, climbing out of it did have some benefits, odd as that may sound.

For a long time, pretty much as long as I have been planning, I haven’t known what all I, personally, want to do with the monthly calendar. What’s the point as long as I’m looking mostly at the weekly views? Post-nightmare doing stuff, however, means going for the low hanging fruit, and for me, that day, it was super functional planning, which meant monthly view, black ballpoint pen, put the things where I want to do them, and have a look at what spaces are avaiable for everything else.

how it started

The flower stickers came later, while I was figuring out what else I needed. Doing arty things is super good for my brain to work stuff out, so that was a good match. I listed the top writing priorities, and then got those things in first. Blank days don’t mean I have nothing planned; they mean I’m figuring out how to best use my time and will be moving tasks there from a master list. This view does include household things and important dates for other family members, so my writing planner will look a little different.

Though I do have flying into the mist as part of my writing and planning processes, on the whole, I like structure and specifics. Not “write today,” but “brainstorm Bob and Jane waiting room scene” or “revise Bob and Jane waiting room scene from rough present tense to polished past tense.” This way, the whole “ugggh, where do I begin?” stuff is out of the way at the time I plop myself in front of my notebook or keyboard, and I already know where I’m going before I set out on my journey. Bird by Bird, eat the elephant one bite at a time, and all that. Wash one dish.

Approaching things like this takes a lot of the pressure off, and reminds me that I really do love writing, particularly romance, and I have been told I am pretty okay at it. I could stand to do it more. The right process is the one that works for me, which is the one that gets me from once upon a time to they lived happily ever after. The fact that I find it a whole lot easier and more appealing if I have pretty visuals as I do it? I call that taking the scenic route.

Typing With Wet Paws: Bye Bye April Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Super good week this week. Aunt Anna is thinking about doing a bonus post this weekend, or maybe a video, to make up for missing Wednesday. That turned into an impromptu family day. No regrets. She is very much getting back into the groove of things, and that means I have to be at top of my mews game, to make sure we are doing the best that we can.

greatest hits picture of me, as we are still working on the pictures thing

First of all, my big box is still awesome, and this week, we got a new, smaller box that I m still figuring out. One of Aunt Anna’s writer friends sent her a fun package, and I have a couple of days to have fun with this new box before the humans break it down. One of the great things about humans settling into an apartment is that boxes and bags arrive and I get to inspect all packaging. It’s pretty sweet. I don’t like when the humans break the packing material with the really big bubbles, though. That stuff is scary. Humans need to take care of that outside.

Another big thing is that I love my cat bed again. Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben put the cat bed on top of the trunk at the foot of their bed, and yesterday, when we were all doing our own things, I hopped into it for a nap. They stopped what they were doing to point out that I was indeed in the bed. No pictures, though. Slackers. I will have to get them on that ASAP. I’m cute.

Photo by Cristian Rojas on Pexels.com

On the Aunt Anna front, I am happy to report a good writing week. Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva are on track to be done with this draft of Drama King on time. Aunt Anna’s heart is going pitty pat on that one, and Her Last First Kiss is back on the agenda. Historical romance writer friends, please be warned; she will be prone to unprompted blathering about the direction of the second half of the book. Tell her she’s pretty, give her tea, and back away slowly. If in doubt, add stationery.

Now that Aunt Anna is back in the historical romance saddle, that does mean she’s probably going to power right through the rest of the edits for A Heart Most Errant. There’s a bunch of other historicals banging on the door of her brain. Pirates, more mediecals, a whole lot of Georgians, and some English Civil War/Restoration people. Good thing I have scratchy thing near the kitchen table, which is where Aunt Anna does most of her glowy box stuff these days.

Speaking of scratchy thing, I love it. I did get a new one, and it came with catnip, and it is the good stuff. I do scratch it, and I like to loaf on it, because I exactly fit, and slow blink at Aunt Anna while she works. I can also keep an eye/ear on whoever is in the bathroom. I don’t know why the humans insist on going in there alone, when feline supervision is clearly a need.

Onto the Goodreads challenge. This week, Aunt Anna has hit the 50% mark. She has read 45 books out of her goal of 90, and 16 books ahead of schedule. I am encouraging her to do even more reading or listening to audiobooks, by throwing in a free kitty cuddle with every reading session. I even throw in motor purrs. I think that’s a good incentive.

Another part of that is her book of books, aka TBR notebook, which still needs a picture. If you’d like a word picture, hop on over to Buried Under Romance and read about that. Aunt Anna is a list maker from way back, so I am not surprised that keeping lists of this sort of thing takes a lot of the time she would normally spend thinking about what she’d like to read next out of the picture. I will remind her to take pictures and/or make a video about it, because it is super neat. It’s also very comfortable, because of course I have sat on it. I sit on a lot of stuff. Which reminds me, I better get to that.

Headbonks!

Calico got to go!

The Weekend That Wasn’t

I had big plans for this weekend, to get current-cufrrent on the revisions to Drama King, make a dent in A Heart Most Errant edits remaining, and get my planniing done early, preferably Saturday. Here is what I did instead:

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

That’s pretty much it. Fell asleep Friday night, dragged myself out of bed Saturday long enough to write my Buried Under Romance post, dragged self back to bed. Woke in late afternoon when Housemate wafted food before me. Ate. Went back to sleep until the wee hours. Offended self with own stench, so late night ablutions, and then, you guessed it, back to sleep. There was a bagel at some point. Sunday was marginally better, and now I feel fine. What happened? Who knows?

Whatever, the week is now before me, I didn’t do what I wanted to do for the weekend, but apparently what my body needed (see feeling fine as stated above) so I guess that is still a win. Onward. I woke this morning at a normal hour, alert, one shower and some caffiene away from getting down to business. Self-flagellation is not very productive (or at all productive, for that matter) so my intention is to bypass it. Did a slapdash planning session this morning, and now on to the next item on the list, this blog.

I did manage to read one book, I think on Friday, so that’s partial credit for reading. Zero progress on my to be viewed list, which irks me, but small potatoes as far as regrets go. While I do like having background noise when I write, I don’t put on anything TV or movie related while i write, because I am going to want to look at the screen, so that is for later. Either ambient sounds (coffee shop, rain, etc) or critical analyses of books, preferably that I have not read nor intend to read. I am flirting with the idea of listening to audiobooks in languages I do not speak. Human voices, but a much reduced chance of getting distracted with the story or information. We’ll see.

Right now, it looks like Tuesdays or Thursdays are going to be good for AnnaLog videos. I have a couple more tags in mind, and a flip through my TBR notebook, which was honestly fun to make, and is indeed helping me keep my reading goals on track. Will this translate into a similar approach to a writing notebook? I’m willing to give it a try.

Time to wind this to a close and go for the low hanging fruit of the day, fleshing out some Drama King scenes. I’m looking forward to that. How does your week look?

Typing With Wet Paws: I Thought This Was Spring Edition

Tails up ,Storm Troopers. I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We are in spring, right? The calendar says April. Maybe I don’t h ave a lot to compare this to, as the oldest I can possibly be is three, but snow in April? Is that a thing? Aunt Anna was in fleece yesterday, and we snuggled under a blanket while she read and wrote longhand, and Uncle Rheuben made some delicious smelling people food (that I can sniff but not eat, because people food is for people and I a a kitty.) I want to sit in ithe open window and chitter at birds. I hope that willl happen soon.

Now is still pretty cool, though. This week, Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva had their first interview on Zoomer Times, which was pretty exciting. I do not make an appearance in this one, but maybe next time as there will be a part two next month. What will they ask abou next time? Your guess is as good as mine, but the chance of it being fun is pretty high.

Aunt Anna also got a bunch of issues of the Zoomer Times magazine, and they are all copies of the issue in which Chasing Prince Charming gets a really good review. They are both super happy about that. Look for pictures on the MelvaandAnna website soon. Plus some other fun stuff.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Writing-wise, the clock is ticking on the final revisions for this draft of Drama King, and then off it goes to The Wild Rose Press, because they get first dibs. This book does have a cat in it, of which I highly approve. More feline-friendly romance novels, please. It’s what the world needs.

Speaking of ticking clocks, same goes for Aunt Anna checking the edits on A Heart Most Errant. Once that goes to its editor, the next steps include things like formatting and cover art. You know, real book stuff. This will be an ebook for now, since it is short, about the third of a regular novel, but Aunt Anna plans two companion stories, and then putting them in a box set. At least that’s the plan.

Me in my box (it’s big)
picture by Aunt Anna

Speaking of boxes, I have The Best news. I get to keep the footlocker box! As in forever, or until I destroy it. Either way, I’m happy. I can play in it, sit in it, sleep in it, chase phantom prey in it, scratch it, try to bust through the back and see if I can find Narnia, etc. All of that good stuff. As long as we are talking about cardboard, I am also getting a different cardboard thing, my scratchy thing, which is the crinkly part of cardboard especially made for me to claw to pieces. One guess what I did with the last one. Yeah. Pretty proud of that.

Moving on to Aunt Anna’s Goodreads Challenge, she is kicking b*tt and taking names this week, with 49 44 books read out of her goal of 90. That puts her at 49% of the way through, and a whopping 17 books ahead of schedule That’s seven. Teen. Go, Aunt Anna, go. Aunt Anna credits audiobooks, the library, Kindle Unlimited, and her new handy dandy TBR notebook which she will show on a future Anna Log vlog. It’s still a work in progress, but I have sat on it, and it’s very comfortable, so I expect it will help her as well.

picture by Uncle Rheuben

Speaking of help, this is me helping Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben put away laundry. I am 100% fine with Aunt Anna putting stuff un me. Probably only her, though. Nobody else has tried yet, but she is my favorite so I can assume. Also, it was very considerate of the humans to give me the chance to make sure everything smells right and has black, white, and orange hair on it. That’s one of the perks of being a three color kitty: you can shed on everything and be sure at least one of your colors will show.

That’s a pretty good piece of wisdom to end this entry, so I will head back to my box and let Aunt Anna have the computer for a while. How are you spending your weekend?

Headbonks!

Storm