The Beginning of the End

OR SOMETHING LIKE one of them rhetorical flourishes that bite in the brain like sweet clover on the tongue.

The first of the east wall bookshelves. TADA!

And already, Loki has discovered he likes the bottom shelf. I see a power struggle for possession of the high ground in the future of this bookshelf — between me and that cat.

Who, by the way, is home from the hospital, healed and otherwise unchanged from his recent traumatic experience. Oliver should be home over the weekend and the new kittens a week from this coming Monday.

Also by the way, but rapidly becoming IN the way, if you get my drifting conversational focus, the kittens don’t all have names. Me, I prefer naming cats in situ, as it were. They have to be in their new home and interacting with it before they tell you their name. This thing of picking names like baby names from a book you buy in the supermarket checkout just isn’t on.

Herself disagrees. And no expectant mother has fussed more over prospective names.

Three Siamese of — er — undocumented provenance and pedigree. There are two seal-points, one male, one female, and one blue-point, female. The female seal point is already named Aqua. That’s settled. Somehow, it manages to get through the not-here barrier and convey its appropriateness via photographs alone, which makes it some pretty powerful kittyname fu, if you follow.

But the other two… We’ll see.

Tooth thing is doing well for the moment. Drugs are having their effects — both desired and not-so-. The pain is mostly gone and we are back to more-or-less normal operation. YAY! I have to go back in a month to have a crown put on. Meantime, they’ve got me coming back in next week for further checkups. This, as the trope runs, will not end prettily. More anon.

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