A writer and her familiar

I found the bathtub drain cover on the bedroom rug this morning, and the sweet little ceramic bowl from my morning yoga/meditation altar under the bed. I’ve had to delay my morning coffee and give up morning journal writing at my kitchen table. My desk is not my own, neither is my bed, the couch, or that same kitchen table where I used to write first thing in the morning.

Orlando has come to live with me.

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Writers and Their Familiars

Somebody’s trying to tell me something. These are a couple of the cards I received for my recent birthday.

kitty-bday-card-2kitty-bday-card

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And this is the bag that contained a few birthday gifts.

kitty-bagFor several months now (has it been years?), I’ve been talking about getting another cat. I’ve been feline free since I lost my darling Rumi in 2012. I mean what kind of writer am I that I don’t have a cat?

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