Angus- the new cat on our block

He came by his name in a funny, odd way. His fur reminds me of a cow hide. And I was listening to Thunderstruck by AC/DC after I first met him. So Angus he became. Sweet tempered and a beta male, he loves nothing more than to be cuddled and loved on. Problem is... he's not Hobbs, he's not orange, mean, and well, he's a pussy. No pun intended. Poor baby. We got him for ChinaMoon as she stopped eating and spent 2 weeks crying after we lost Hobbs. I wasn't ready to lose another cat, so enter Angus. I was not, and in reality, still am not ready for this cat.

My heart is till hurting, I still cry for Hobbs, although not as much, but the aching void is still there. And Angus can't fill it. To be fair, he shouldn't have too. Angus is not a kitten, he's about 18 months old and as unfamiliar to me as I am to him. Had I gotten him as a kitten, he would have been mommied and therefore been my kitty. Don't get me wrong. I would never hurt or take less than the best care of him. I pet him and cuddle him, but he's not mine. I can't seem to drop the wall and let him in no matter how much I try. So thank goodness for my husband, who was not as attached to Hobbs as I was, and still am. Angus has picked up on this and goes to him for love and assurance. ChinaMoon and I, while we tolerate him, he will be a long time in becoming part of the shadow posse, if ever. An orange ghost still follows me with her (not literally) and I still sometimes hear his meow.

And Angus, like ChinaMoon, is a magickal dud. Which just sucks for me big time. I need, want and like that interaction with a familiar. I may need to get a third cat eventually. One of my choosing, when I'm ready. But for the time being, I will have to be content with the two pieces of lap candy I am currently residing with.

Happiness is a good book and a comfy place to read it.

And I do everything I can to make myself happy. Last week was the week from HELL! Expensive plumbing problem (fixed), child in a car accident (he's fine. the car still has a bit to go.), work pressures from idiot people who go into business with out a clue and then expect you to pull a miracle out of thin air... (it's gonna cost you dude. get real). So at the end of the week your girl here was exhausted, shot out and in major need of some R & R. Looking around my office/dressing space, I realized I have no where to sit in there that's comfy, a nook, a cranny, a reading space. Enter Pier 1.

I love Pier 1. It smells good, has pretty things and I drool every time I go in there. I wanty, I likey but it's ridiculously over priced. However, this time around, I went in on a mission. (Cue music) I entered and zoomed right for the papsans. I used to have one until it was taken over by large brat child who took it with him to new home. Hey, he broke it in to fit his ass and it wouldn't have been comfortable for me. So I let him take it. Anywho, there they were, pretty new papasans with gorgeous bright fabrics and comfy pillows galore. I fell into shiny object mode right away. And they were on sale. Who says comfort has to cost a pretty penny?

Needless to say I bought one with matching stool and 2 pillows. I came home rearranged my room a bit so it fits right under the front windows for the diffused light. Set it up, took a shower, got a snack, drink and current book and settled in. Whereupon, I promptly fell asleep. It was a good nap too. Short, but good. As soon as the brat gets himself back home, I can settle more into my space. And I for one, can't wait. The siren call of a comfortable reading spot with a good book=bliss.

Mothers

With Mother's Day right around the corner (Sunday), obviously it's time to honor the one who gave birth to you. But what do you do if you detest the one who gave birth to you? And what if, say, she was replaced with a horrid Step monster? Well, do what I do. Honor yourself if you're a mum. If you overcame the horrid parenting that was, unfortunately, your luck to have, then I say honor yourself. Granted the majority of us probably came from a somewhat dysfunctional family. And like many of my friends and others I know, we survived. To become better parents hopefully. It's a hard job being a mom. whether you work or not. Frankly, having been both a working mom and a stay at home mom, I preferred the working mom scene. Yes, it was difficult juggling, sorting, etc. But at least it kept you from going insane and you got some adult conversation to boot. Course, back then, most of us didn't have the internet, so chances are, many moms are logged into forums, etc. and keeping up with what's new in the world.

Either way, happy mother's day to the moms of the world who make it all good in their children's worlds.