My broken ribs are mending. Kat's broken jaw is mending. My fractured foot is still swollen the size of an odd shaped baloon, but it is mending too.
My son finally came out and told his sister and I being authors not in the league of J.K. Rowling, Danielle Steele, and Nora Roberts makes us
failures, and we discovered Hurricane Irene, aptly named after my former mother-in-law and the subesquent torrential rain storms turned our balcony into not just a
swamp, but a breeding ground for mosquitos and gnats.
(See, Chris, there are some good things about being authors glued to our computers...no
bug bites...but oh my poor neighbor. She came over on Friday, pulled her shirt up and showed me her bug devoured back since our bugs, those gestating on our balcony migrate when they can't find our blood s conveniently waiting for them upon emergence.)
All in all it has been a rather trying few weeks.
Our maintenance man, who came out to observe the swamp, listened as we enumerated our issues. (Luckily he understood the bit about seizures since his daughter is in a hospital right now in South Carolina having all kinds of
tests run on her for her newly discovered seizure disorder.)
Frantic about his daughter, and worried about not hopping the next train and heading south, he asked us, when our tales of dubious adventure wound down, how do we keep our sanity and manage to ford ahead?
PURRS...Kat and I answered in unison.
Purrs of unconditional love and affection from the smallest members of our family here at
Casa Casas...(I know...redundant, but Casa means house, and HOMES, or in our case HOLMES is the plural for house...so Casa Casas fits.)
Now that I have no bedframe but two twin mattresses piled onto each other for my bed...(my older than dirt previous mattress, boxspring and frame had digressed to the point the springs were popping through trying to carve ancient
ritual symbols upon my skin.)...These mattresses came at a welcome time...gifts I had not expected.
Moving forward...please forgive my Nudge...when she wants to add to the tale, she butts in takes over and has her say...now that my kitty
Spatz has no hidey holes beneath my bed, she adpated to coming onto this narrower bed, nuzzling that much closer and letting her soporific voice purr and purr until all cares I might have had moments ago, drift away as her purrs
vibrate love and contentment throughout my blood, bone, heart and brain. (Who can stay upset with a kitty bathing you in her unqualified love, trust, and adoration?)
Same with Kat. Mama Bear doesn't just give her loving attention while awake, as these photos show,
Mama Bear is not happy unless her connection with Kat is at all times body-to-body.
So world...no matter how many challenges, hurts, frustrations, and uncalled for misdirections you try to toss our way, you cannot touch us...we have
PURRS...and PURRS are stronger than any negative we must rise above!
Thank you Mama Bear and
Spatz for loving us, cheering us, and adoring us.
You are our
shields against despair.