Mama just got an email from her beautiful aunt in Magnolia, Arkansas (see, above, turning a napkin into a bra!)
Now where the heck is that? I am clearly continent-impaired (not to be confused with that other thing that humans get, also kitties, when they age a bit), which means I have had a limited life in only two countries, well, make that three if you include sitting in a cage in a car at a ferry dock in Barcelona waiting an hour for that huge, rumbling thing that floats on water and takes us to that other country and during which I throw up, sometimes. Maybe I need a change. Mama and papa left me with a kitty-sitter when they went to Magnolia last fall, and I was fine (sort of—Sue, my sitter, is really, really nice and shares her broiled fish with me so what’s not to like?) but then they came back with stories of those crazy aunts—one, Bittie, is in her nineties and looks about 50, and her sisters are in their eighties and look twenty years younger (see photo above)—and the magnolia festival when the little town (not so little now, but used to be) is in full bloom and the perfume of magnolias is everywhere; people party and party, especially in THIS family. Mama’s aunt Bittie says that even her son’s two dogs come to visit (they are called Munster Landers–sounds like a CHEESE) and that I should come, too.
When mama and papa were there, there was a happening every night with incredible food brought by all the guests and “Welcome” signs hung all over the houses and everyone so, so…UP! I got the impression that those guys in Arkansas never stop having fun, which is maybe why they are all so young and good-natured and have big hearts. Maybe big hearts prosper in small towns. Maybe knowing your neighbors and helping one another when needed is a by-product of living without the enormous stress of a big city: traffic on the way to a vet who pokes you with weird things in weird places, long distances to go to get your favorite cat food, and so on, or maybe, just maybe, this particular family is an anomaly and mama is just plain lucky to have them in the world.
Of all of the other crazy families I’ve seen in three countries, this one sounds like the best one to get fed or petted in. I’ll bet they would give me anything I purred about if I just did one of my seductive rubbing-on-ankles tricks or if I head-butted that beautiful aunt Bittie in the morning and stared at her with my great big Loulou eyes (no biting) and myowed a bit in my charming way.
I’m packin’ my little kitty bag right now, and then, watch my dust!
