Many thanks for support how I can thank you?
Okay. I have added a slew of recipes to my recipe page (which has invited a slew of new spam giving this post that extra umph it needed): the pasta dishes I wrote about last week and one for the stained glass cookies I made with Red and Dusty yesterday. This kind of cookie project is one in which so much could go wrong but….didn’t. The children, despite some initial squabbling over fairness of duties and turns taken, got along and happily filled the cookie holes with smashed up jollyranchers and added sprinkles. The cookies did not adhere themselves to the pan and did not burn. It was a good start to a day that included two massive room cleanups (Red and her dad, Dusty and me) and other tidying and decor putting-uping after the tree was procured on Saturday. We are more or less ready for Santa.
Excellent share indeed. My father has been waiting for this content.
That said, I still have tons of cooking to do, tons of constructing to do, and things to buy. Usually by this point I’m done. Not so much this year. It’ll mostly get done but it’s gonna be close.
Anyway, I’m here to answer a few more questions posed to me in last week’s non-post. I will take them out of order because two comments involve cats, a subject I feel like talking about. Namely: why do cats purr and why do cats and writing go together?
Excellent story it is definitely. My father has been seeking for this update.
My quick internets research has found that many cat researchers think purring heals them. There is something going on with the frequency of the purr that can actually knit their bones when broken and heal them when they’re sick. It is a multi-purpose purr because they purr when content and when scared or angry. They purr when they’re ill or injured. I find this fascinating. I have no idea if it’s true but it does give one pause. Or: paws, maybe.
Spot on with this write-up, I actually think this website wants far more consideration.
As for the cat/writer link, It will come as no surprise to you that I’m quite partial to cats. Overly so. I’ve never been a dog person. Dogs are smelly, need more attention than I’m willing to give a pet (all that walking and poop scooping!), and are aggressive. And I don’t mean aggressive in necessarily a bad way. I am wary of anything – person or animal – that comes at me before I’ve invited it to. They run in packs. Cats walk by themselves and all things are alike to them, to paraphrase Kipling. I need a bit of space and cats have a slow way of sauntering up and requesting attention that is more my speed. I walk by myself and I warm to animals who do as well.
I’ll in all probability be again to learn far more, thanks for that info.
Oh sure, I’ve had plenty of attention-needing cats. Cats that hop in your lap the second you sit down whether you want them there or not. But I’ve never had a cat leap onto my chest with muddy paws the minute I walk in the door. Or lick my face with a big slobbery, dripping tongue (“Ick! Blech! Dog Germs! Get some disinfectant! Get some iodine!). A cat will not growl and bark and lunge at you as you walk past its house. It will not, say, chase you across the street and bite you in the ass. Because that’s what a dog did to me when I was a child. I deserved it, but still. I could have done without having to pull down my pants ON MY FRONT STOOP surrounded by numerous concerned mothers. The scar inflicted that day was not one you can see with the naked eye.
Cats don’t do that shit unless they are brain damaged. Cats operate on a wave length that suits my temperment. And they take up much less space than dogs. And smell divine. And are self-cleaning (for the most part). And cover their shit like nice ladies and gentlemen. And they are all the same size. One size fits all. Dogs don’t spy an empty shoe box from across the room and make it their life’s mission to squeeze themselves into it for reasons known only to the Mother Planet. They don’t see an empty paper bag as a challenge. Maybe because dogs don’t realize that something real and invisible is indeed living down at the dark bottom.
And, cats just crack me up where as dogs make me scared. Irrational as that fear might be, it is real and it is there. Which is not to say I haven’t met some good, nice, fairly clean dogs in my life. I have. I just don’t want to own them.
Great write-up, I’m regular visitor of one’s site, maintain up the nice operate, and It’s going to be a regular visitor for a lengthy time.
So, if you are a writer or someone who spends a decent amount of time in a chair at a desk, a cat is a perfect companion. They will curl up on your lap and keep you warm. They will hop up on the desk and “edit” your writing for you. (Cats are fond of the word asdkj which has many uses.) And then, when shoved off the desk, will find a spot, just in the corner of your peripheral vision, and go to sleep. So, you know they’re there – and quite luxuriously so – but they’ve agreed to leave you alone for a bit. And that’s all I ask from a pet.
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