(Today's post is brought to you by DENIAL, the premiere company for excessive and inappropriate cheerfulness.)
I didn't see you there. But now that you're here, why don't you pull up a virtual chair and have a seat? I have ever so much to tell you. So many interesting things just itching to find their way out of my fingers, through my keyboard and to you.
But before I do, please allow me to bring you the new mommy-blogging that is sweeping the world off its feet: kitty-blogging! Why yes! I do indeed have two cats of my own. Adorable ones, if I may say so myself. Brace yourselves, there are pictures afoot!
That there is my baby girl squirrel who rules the world. Her name is Lilly. She was a gift to me from my husband. Lilly was found abandoned as a very young kitten and it took me (and derrr hubbs) a very long time to earn her trust. When I think about how far she has come in her own kitty way I am prone to bursting into tears.
Lilly was born in America and lived there for the first year and a half of her life, but then flew to Sweden because neither me or derrrrhubbs could bear to be without her. It cost an arm and a leg, but luckily Madame Pomfrey gave me a shot or four of skele-grow and I was fine the next day.
Why a Harry Potter reference? Because, my lovely reader who is beautiful in a sticky, moist sort of way, when we got the next cat we (I) named him James. Harry Potter's parents were named Lily and James. In this household, however, we will insist that in every book there is a typo and the second L in Lilly's name was forgotten. Oh well. At least some people in the world can get it right.
There he is. James. He is a Swedish cat, through and through. He is not the brightest of cats. Compared to his sister he is very... well. He is very cute anyway. He loves to cuddle and loves to play. He is quite skittish but when he grows to like you, he loves you and he will try to cover as big a surface of your body with his little kitty body as he possibly can. While shedding on you out of pure excitement. If he finds you sleeping WITHOUT HIM (oh my mew, how dare you!) he will furiously headbutt your face until you wake up and prepare a spot for him for a nice spooning session.
Here they are together. James was still a wee kitten then.
Well, then. That is all! I do apologize for forgetting all the interesting, vital and important things I was aiming to tell you at the beginning of this post - the sight of my kittenzzzzzzzzzzomg drive me to distraction and I must immediately locate one for emergency cuddles.
Maybe next time.
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