Posted by on May 11, 2019 | 10 comments

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mama is reading a book to me, actually, not a book but reading from her Kindle app, and I’m just lying here absorbing all these sentences and paragraphs and chapters, whatever they are, that anthros get so turned on about, and I’m TRYING to understand just what a subject and verb and object and indirect object is but what’s really happening is that the sound of her voice, murmuring to me about Stalin’s daughter (The Red Daughter by John Burnham Schwartz) or the wonderful archeological mysteries of Elly Griffiths or Martin Walker’s stories of France’s Perigord region, is really what puts me out like a light, haha.

Does that happen to you?  That sound of a voice, reading, or talking softly, telling you what a good kitty you are, and how so many lives are enhanced by your very presence, or simply that you were a good, good kitty and ate all your dinner or brought your mama’s attention to the fact that your toilette might need a little housekeeping, is really all it takes to make life really worth living and sleeping really worth sleeping, haha.