Happy Goodbyes

After more than a year living in our house as a foster cat, Neville has been adopted! Yes, Neville. I KNOW.


There was a woman who was actually looking for a 'rebel' of a cat, and as soon as she met Neville she was in love. She understood him and his attitude. In fact, she was so happy to meet him that she cried.

The next day we got a phone call from her. My heart skipped a beat - had he bitten her? (Maybe.) Was he being mean? (Almost certainly.) Did she want to bring him back? (Hopefully not!)

There was, however, suddenly twice the cause for celebration in our house because she told us that she also wanted to adopt Betty - one of our other foster cats whom she had met while she was here - so that Neville would always have a friend with him. We already knew that Betty was not scared of Neville, and the two cats seemed happy enough together, so we were overjoyed to hear her request.


Now Neville is gone to a home that understands him, and Betty the sweet, sweet little tabby girl has a forever home too, which she very much deserves.

It's so quiet without Neville here!

Friends

I took a vacation with my friends Chani and Nay a little while ago. We rented a log house by the ocean and sat around relaxing, reading books, and watching obscene amounts of the Food Network.


Chani, who thinks the world really works like a Disney movie, dutifully left out snacks of all sorts for the various woodland critters that we supposed lived near the log house. We saw very little of this alleged wildlife for the first few days, and watched the offered snacks get eaten mostly by sea gulls and crows, which are boring because we see them all the time.

Chani kept at it. Corn was scattered on the benches in the yard with shocking regularity. carrots were strewn in the driveway, and bread, zucchini, and raspberry cobbler was left on the deck outside the sliding glass doors to the living room.

After a few days, we started to catch fleeting late-night glimpses of a bold raccoon who liked to come up onto the deck to eat. One night as we all sat in the living room watching a movie, the little raccoon showed up for his supper.


Chani was immediately enchanted, and Nay and I quietly grabbed our cameras. We paused the movie and watched the raccoon for a while. Chani promptly named him Darian.

As we sat watching, another little raccoon crept up onto the deck. Darian half-heartedly chased her away from his food dish, but she came slowly slinking back for her share. We called her Marion.

The raccoons were very well aware of our presence behind the glass, and after a few minutes I guess they decided we weren't a threat. We could walk around and talk, and they stayed up on the deck, glancing casually our way every now and again.


Chani sat down on the floor by the sliding glass doors and cooed about how cute they were while Nay and I wandered around with our cameras. The food eventually ran out, and Darian started to explore the rest of the deck. He sniffed the barbeque next to the sliding glass doors, and Chani, mesmerized, pressed her hand to the window.

The raccoon walked up to the glass, looked Chani in the eyes, and PRESSED HIS HAND TO THE GLASS RIGHT WHERE HERS WAS. Chani said "I love you, little raccoon", and started crying.


Sadly, I suspect this will nurture Chani's unhealthy belief that real life really is just like a Disney movie.

Happy Mother's Day

To a mother who is celebrating her first Mother's Day, and another who has done this already 32 times...


The insanity cannot be quantified. I mean, uhh, Happy Mother's Day!


Mark would like the internet to know that he thinks my mom is "great in a pinch" and "always does the right thing when under pressure". We were having a conversation this morning and he honestly spontaneously said these things. I've heard him say before that my mom is great in a pinch - she doesn't panic, she's logical, she gets things done, and is just a strong person. For clarity, he also wants the world to know that he thinks she's great other times, too - not just in a pinch.

Chocolate Mark

My sister asked me to email a few pictures of Mark and I to her so that she could show them to Sophia, her little three-year-old daughter that she just adopted.

I don't have many pictures of the two of us because one of us is almost always behind the camera, so I emailed four or five pictures from our big road trip we took around North America a couple of years ago. They looked at them together, and this is how - in my sister's own words - the conversation went.

"Kim (my sister): This is your aunt Julie and Uncle Mark.
Sophia (Kim's daughter): Aunt Julie and Uncle Mark?
Kim: Yup. She sent a few pictures of them for you to look at. Here is the next picture.


Sophia: What are they eating?
Kim: I think its cake. Does it look like cake?
Sophia: Yeah, its cake.
Kim: And here they are in front of chocolate world.


Sophia: They are Aunt Julie and Chocolate Mark.
Kim: Here they are in Las Vegas.


Sophia: Aunt Julie and Chocolate Mark. I want to see the pictures again!"

Apparently they looked at all the pictures like ten times, and Sophia called him Chocolate Mark quite frequently. Mark is very pleased with his new moniker.

Sophia is cool.