The weekend was defined by welcoming a new cat to the house. A tiny little bundle of fur and temporary fury called Miracle, who is a beautiful tortoise-shell. Scared cats are an interesting thing to deal with, and they do pretty much always follow this pattern of establishing and defending their territory. Slowly scenting the whole place, taking ownership of you, and then retracting the claws (at least with you).
We have an alpha cat already – do we have new one? Time will tell.
I watched the last episode of American Gods first season, I am winding up season 2 of Supergirl, and I finished season 3 of The Flash. The thing that has had the real impact though, is definitely The Handmaid’s Tale, seeming not so much prescient as relevant. The logic of stories versus the chaos of The News at the moment means even something considered dystopian is easier to manage.
I wrote some poetry. Wrote some angry posts about situations in my life that have made me feel somewhat powerless, and yet again I failed to meet Newsletter deadline. That Newsletter calls to me and pushes me away at the same time. Who wants to rehash the bad news all the time? Not me. Though some of the social projects I am working to construct aim to tackle some of the subjects in these news stories.
Regularity is a great thing when you can get it. Getting my shit together provoked the creation of Regular Movement; it needs a revival, and the work I did for it needs to be put in a book. It’s all coming. I work damned hard to keep edging the projects forward.