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An assistant to the way life's shaking out
A photographic sequence, in which it is explained why for several hours this afternoon I did nothing except sit in the green basket chair.
I noticed some time ago that I talk to the cats as I do not talk to myself when I am alone, but I also use more endearments with them than I use with anyone who isn't my niece, so that I comforted Autolycus easing back into sleep after a startling noise outside with there you go, my lovelet, my dear, my darling, my sweetheart, my jo. It seemed to work. I read some more of Dick Francis' Proof (1984) and didn't go anywhere for another forty-five minutes.
I noticed some time ago that I talk to the cats as I do not talk to myself when I am alone, but I also use more endearments with them than I use with anyone who isn't my niece, so that I comforted Autolycus easing back into sleep after a startling noise outside with there you go, my lovelet, my dear, my darling, my sweetheart, my jo. It seemed to work. I read some more of Dick Francis' Proof (1984) and didn't go anywhere for another forty-five minutes.
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It is. One of the reasons I miss my Linux-driven pseudo-TV is that it was expressly agreed that some of its channels were being cat-funded so as to ensure a plentiful supply of Lap.
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Edit: Crackle is explicitly cat-funded, and I think feline backing is disclosed in the Roku company charter.
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Did you ever have the impression I didn't like children?
Edit: Crackle is explicitly cat-funded, and I think feline backing is disclosed in the Roku company charter.
Most useful to know.
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