Journal Writing During Family Emergencies

Yesterday was a gorgeous snow day in NY state. We are not in the city, but I saw plenty of such pictures from those who were, and it was everything I ever would want from a NYC snow day. I did get to see the snow from the waiting room outside where Real Life Romance Hero is staying right now. Yesterday was a good-ish day. The day before, not so much. We are still figuring out a few things. I am not using my planners much right now, as days are pretty much the same – days are for hospital, then home for dinner and sleep. Housemate is handling domestic matters.

Journals, though, I am using a lot. Hospital journal. Personal journal. Notes on writing stuff. Not notes about blogging, because I am winging it for now. This is a time for blurting. What is on my mind is on the page. We are one day at a time-ing it over here. This is my favorite time of year, and yet this year, we are outside of it. That is what it is. I am setting up for 2026, though. I like the focus. This does include writing things. The need to write is strong. Fiction the most, because that’s my big creative love. I am interested to see what my writing will do in and after this season.

Storm is definitely doing her job. When I get home from the hospital, she meets me at the door. She leads me into the bedroom, and insists I lie on the bed, so she can jump on me, loaf, and purr. I pet her. She is warm and soft. She insists that Housemate and I give her gushy food when we have our dinner. She has a new tilted food dish that is only for gushy food. She deserves all the treats and many belly rubs.

Housemate comes with me most days now. Having the company helps a lot. Yesterday, she sat next to me and crocheted, explaining her stitches and such, even though I do not myself crochet. I like the rhythm of her stitches. I tell RLRH about what is happening at home, the weather outside, share memories and inside jokes. I write in my hospital journal, notes on RLRH’s care, and thinking on paper, much like here, whatever is in my brain. I know I need and want to be reading, though my brain is not quite there yet. I haven’t listened to Christmas music; I want to, though. My usual Christmas movie re-watches — Love Actually, The Holiday, About A Boy— I have waved at from a distance. I love them, I think about them, and I can absolutely watch them at any time of the year. Same with Christmas/holiday books, foods, etc.

Family emergencies are tough. Holidays can be tough. Combine the two, and it’s something else altogether. Like I said, we are one day at time-ing the whole thing. That is good enough for now.

illustrated image of a redheaded woman writing in a journal as her calico cat observes.
as always, Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: December Update Edition

Tails Up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This holiday season has taken a turn nobody expected. On the night before Thanksgiving, Papa fell down some stairs and had to go to the people vet. The people vets are taking good care of him, and he should be better soon. Mama Anna goes to the people vet every day to help and spend time with him. Aunt Linda takes care of things on the home front, and I will be in charge of social media for the rest of December.

The posting schedule for December will be: lawless wasteland. There will be posts, but no promises on when or about what. Probably pictures of me. There can never be enough pictures of me. Mama Anna gives me updates on Papa when she comes home. Things are going okay, overall. Papa is in good hands, and Mama Anna is in good paws, meaning mine.

Mama Anna is not sure what we are going to do for decorating this season, because helping Papa comes first, but she does want to do something. Maybe one of those ceramic trees she tells me her mama and aunts used to have. We will see. She did get out a box of some Christmas stuff and in it was a me-sized Santa hat. Here is a fun fact: I am 100% fine with Mama Anna putting things on my head. Nobody else, though. Maybe I will let her put the Santa hat on me for a holiday picture.

Yesterday, we had lots of snow here in this part of NY. Mama Anna loves snow, and she liked being able to look out windows at the people vet and watch it fall. I watched it from Mama Anna’s office chair, pointed toward the bedroom window. Unlike Mama Anna, I have no desire to go out in it. Being barefoot by default, I do not like even the idea of putting my beans in the cold stuff.

My job, when Mama Anna gets home, is to greet her at the door and lead her to the bed, so she can tell me all about her and Papa’s day, and then we cuddle. Then I get gushy food. I also inspect the bag Mama Anna takes with her for the day. It has lots of pockets, so it is super interesting. She can get a paper book, her tablet/Kindle, and journal stuff. It could theoretically also hold a calico cat, but apparently they do not allow cats into the people vet. Hmph.

Anyway, how was your Thanksgiving?

VT State of Mind

I have been thinking lately about Vermont. I lived there in my freshman and sophomore years of college, and fell in love with the place. It’s been a while since I’ve been back there, and never to the actual campus (well, two of them, but I am not sure on the plural of “campus.”) In a romance novel worthy bit, that school I went to before transferring to the school where I met Real Life Romance Hero? That was RLRH’s second choice school, so if he’d gone there, we would have met anyway. That’s not what I’m thinking about, though.

Photo by Heather Smith on Pexels.com

What I’m thinking about is that last night, we got our first snow. I did not get to witness it, that I was hard at work on Queen of Hearts edits, or I was before Melva found the draft I was supposed to be editing, which is now the job before me. We got snow flurries again today, nothing sticking, (please play an acoustic instrumental version of Noah Khan’s “Stick Season” softy in the background here) because of a delicious nap that can only happen on a gray November day.

But Vermont. The image that comes first to mind when I think of Vermont is the first time (there were more) I stood under a streetlight as the snow poured down, my head tilted up, captivated by the beauty of the snowflakes dancing their way down to earth. Vermont was where I learned that my favorite part of prepping the daycare classroom was mixing unique shades of tempera paints for the standing easels. Vermont was where I found a small used bookstore that became my second home, where my ire that there were Traditional Regency romances but no Traditional Tudors, Traditional Medievals, or Traditional Any Other Era, first took form. Vermont is where a friend chased me across campus to put what she promised would be one of my favorite books in my hand (she was right.)

it was this one

Vermont was also where I wrote my first historical romance novel, now thankfully lost to the vicissitudes of fate. I would race back to my dorm from class, turn on the electronic typewriter (dating myself, but that’s fine. I’m delightful.) stick in a fresh sheet of paper, and off I went. In time, my dormmates figured out what I was doing, and it was common enough that I had an audience as I wrote. It’s not realistic to expect people to physically stand behind me, urging me to write faster, because they are reading the lines as they appear on the paper, but I can come close. This is the interwebs, after all. I do have a blog, and two websites, and the serial format does exist.

In a broader sense, I do associate Vermont with higher education, and that makes sense. It’s been a wild ride for the past few years. I prefer to think of multiple attempts to get back up on the metaphorical horse to point to a survivor’s spirit rather than a series of failures. I have been making notes lately on things I would like to blog (and vlog) about. There’s the fact that I feel like a stranger in a strange land in many bookish spaces. Mass Market paperbacks are no longer so “mass,” as trade size seems to be more prevalent. Historical romance is going through some changes (down but not out, broken bones heal stronger, all that) and I am back in the freshman phase of being the adult new kid once again. Now go make friends. Start with others in your major (genre? I am the very model of a modern major genre?) or those in your dorm.

The more I think on it, the more it fits. Beginner’s mind. Lots of reading. Take many notes. Talk to others doing the same thing I am. Study. Find your place. Fall down five times, get up six. Apple cider donuts are delicious (another important Vermont lesson) and the right hot beverage can be a boost like no other. This isn’t the blog I planned to post today, but it is the one that feels the most genuine, so this is what you get. Turned in on time is a good thing.

illustrated image of a redheaded woman writing in a journal as her calico cat observes.
as always, Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Mama Anna’s Birthday Week Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. October has been a quiet month for the blog, but that’s not because nothing is going on. It’s actually the opposite. Super powers are in full swing, and Mama Anna is not idle. I will say, though, that she is slow on the uptake on one thing.

Her favorite week of the year is what she calls the tucked away week, from December 25 to January 1, aka between Christmas and New Year’s Day. She has only this year acknowledged that there is a second (or rather, first, as October comes before December) tucked away week, and that is between October 24th (her birthday) and October 31 (Halloween.) Start and end with a holiday both times, special foods and customs, seasonal decor, friends and family, you get the drift. Which is quicker than her in this case. That’s okay. Not everybody can be a cat. I am, though, so I lucked out on that one.

Anyway, Mama Anna’s birthday was great. Social media people showed up with good wishes, Aunt Linda took her to lunch and the art store (Mama Anna loves the art store) and Papa got Chinese food for dinner and they got to hang out at home. I gave her cuddles and headbonks and we played red dot, which was super fun. The next day, the party kept going.

This is Cousin Skye, who is a dog, and different from Big Sister Skye, who is a cat (Rainbow Bridge) and her lobster toy from all of us. That is the only picture of said lobster toy, as she loved it to death. Literally. RIP, Lobster. We all knew that going in. Next time, Kong. That’s Uncle Brian with her, who is married to Aunt Mary, who makes the bestest pina colada cake (I have to take the humans’ word for it, because apparently it is Not For Kitties) I stayed home with Papa, because I am not great on my own for whole afternoons. They did go thrifting and I got to inspect the results of that. I approved everything.

Here I am, with a paper bag that passed inspection with flying colors. Very crunchy, smells great. Papa said I did mostly great on our afternoon, playing with him, getting treats and cuddles. I did pace for the last hour-ish, but as soon as I heard Mama Anna come home, I was all better. I have been sticking close to her ever since. She had to help Aunt Linda do something out of the house on Monday, which is too soon for Mama Anna to go out after being out already, but she brought back interesting bags and I got catnip. I forget what happened after the catnip, but my paws are amazing. I have switchblade fingers.

For those wondering if I am going to dress up for Halloween (if your question is do I let Mama Anna put things on me, like hats and capes, the answer is yes) wait no longer. I will be dressing as an ice cream sundae. Dark fudge and chocolate on vanilla, to be exact. It is the traditional dress of my people, the Calico. It is also the same as my everyday look, because it’s just that good.

What are you up to this tucked away week?

Headbonx, Storm

Exploring Changes in Local Libraries: A Personal Experience

Yesterday was a full house day (not the tv show) meaning that everybody was home. Real Life Romance Hero likes his alone time, so Housemate and I headed out for some shenanigans. One shenanigan was making a library stop because A) we had library books to return, B) we wanted more library books, and C) our area has a lot of libraries. We picked a particular one we hadn’t been to for a while. It was an experience.

yes, I journaled about this

Once upon a time, we’d known our way around this library, but sometime in the past year, or maybe two, they changed things. Now it’s much more open plan, with stacks clearly labeled (which is helpful) but all in identical off white metal shelves, which made it seem, to me, like a warehouse. I don’t know if they are in the middle of decorating/renovating, but it was overall very low-contrast, which is not great for my impaired vision. That’s fine, though. My general modus operandi for library browsing is to find my desired section and drift through, seeing what catches my eye. This time, it was not what I expected.

I headed to romance first, because that’s my favorite, though I felt more stranger-in-a-strange-land-ish than I generally do in such an environment. Most of the books were trade sized paperback rather than mass market. Not revolutionary; bookstores are like this, too, but it stood out. This also tells me we are looking at mostly newer releases. The majority seemed to be contemporary, many on the rom-com side, which also applied to a not insignificant amount of the historicals I noticed. Is it possible I missed several examples of exactly what I was looking for on this particular day? Absolutely. Is it probable. though? I don’t think so.

Though this may sound like a complaint, it isn’t coming from that. It’s coming from a place of observation. Libraries need to focus on what the majority of their readership wants. That is often not going to match the wants of certain individuals, sometimes including me. That’s not a bad thing, just a thing. I am quite sure that at least one reader in the recent past has seen exactly the same setup with exactly the same books and hot diggity dog, load up the truck, Grandma, we’re going to town.

Most of the historical romances I did see were set in the nineteenth century, which is currently super popular. There were a few examples of other eras, but those were the outliers. No, I did not take home any romances from that visit, historical or otherwise, but I did appreciate their new YA room. There, books are shelved by subgenre, with a sign at the start of said section explaining what one might expect in said subgenre. For instance, fantasy is where you’ll find wizards, fairies, myths, things that can’t happen in the real world. Realistic fiction means that these things can happen in the real world. Historical means before living memory (around 1920s) etc. If you’re curious, I came home with one realistic YA and one horror YA.

Okay, so, let’s get to the point where we summarize. The sad part was that I didn’t feel represented in this particular library’s selection on this particular day. First world problem. Also first world solution, because librarians exist, and they love to help patrons find the books they want. Asking them is a fabulous way to get the book you want but don’t see, if not part of the permanent collection, through interlibrary loan. If the book can be gotten, the librarians will get it for you. There are also things like Kindle and Thrift Books and used bookstores (less common now in the brick-and-mortar variety but online is a different story, pun intended.) There is also the private library option, where I could read books I already have but haven’t read. There are also the ones I have read; the good ones always give me something new every time I go back to them.

Even when the stories are historical (or futuristic, etc) commercial fiction is written for the contemporary audience and that is going to affect what publishers buy, which affects what librarians can buy, which affects what patrons can borrow. Trends come and go. Don’t like the “in” trope or cover treatment or whatever? Wait five minutes. Something else will come along, and we are at a point in bookish history where there is more variety than ever before, so one library trip is not the end of the world.

Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind for today. What’s going on at your libraries?

as always, Anna

Superpowers, How It’s Going, and Holidays to Come

Hey there, hi there, ho there. It has been a while. Superpowers are in effect, yes, though a bout with shingles (not the roofing kind, thankfully mild this time around) and recovery from that knocked things back more than I would like. I’m back now, so what did I miss?

Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com

Right now, I am two books ahead of my Goodreads challenge, with twenty-one books read out of twenty-five. My most recent read was We Won’t All Survive, by Kate Alice Marshall. YA thriller with trauma survivor teens who apply to play a Survivor style game in a privately owned ghost town, only to find out it’s not a game? Uh, yes, please. I will definitely be reading more Marshall, but I want a palate cleanser with a historical romance first.

Writing wise, the super powers are not disappointing. Final-final edits for Drama King are done and dusted, and once we finalize the cover art, it is all over but the formatting and uploading. Melva and I feel like we are hitting our stride here. We are each working on our individual contemporary stories for next year’s Christmas anthology (and of course I managed to work in a historical tidbit) and I am getting the metaphorical ducks in a row to release A Heart Most Errant out into the world, and other historical projects after that.

Storm has figured out she can get inside paper bags, which adds a new dimension to getting takeout/delivery around here. She’ll be getting back to kitty blogs ASAP, because she knows where her treats come from, and there is a correlation.

Koolio is ready for his winter home. The windows are closed. The property manager has turned on the furnace, though we have not yet put on the heat. Soon, though. It’s tea season. Definitely sweater/sweatshirt weather. My birthday is next week, then Halloween, then it’s Thanksgiving season and then the Big Show, Christmas. The Holidays are most certainly on, and the superpowers are ready. Fingers crossed that Melva and I will have at least one book ready for new release in time for the gift giving holidays.

For tonight, I am headed to the soft office with a spare weighted blanket, some spooky themed journal stuff, and the next book from the library bag. Add a cup of tea and a feline companion. I have French-toast scented wax melts on the burner, and the days are getting shorter. That sounds like prime cozy to me.

as always, Anna (and Storm)

Welcome Back, Super Powers

Do not adjust your screen. This is really a blog post from me. There were leaves on the ground as recently as this past Saturday. I see hints of foliage in the trees around here. Our temperatures will be in the seventies or lower (Fahrenheit) for this entire week, and we are looking at sixties very soon, which will mean sending Koolio to his winter home (aka Housemate’s closet.) Our maintenance dude turned on the furnace. I had two cups of tea this morning and am currently wearing an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. The season of pumpkin spice and apple cinnamon is upon us. Store shelves have moved from back to school, to Halloween, which means time to stock up on things I will use all year long.

composition book, journalified

After watching a few (dozen) videos on turning a composition book into a more visual journal, I tried my hand at it, and it’s working extremely well. Plain pages don’t give my eyes anywhere to rest. The best stationery advice I have ever heard is that if I am stumped by a blank page, draw a box around it. There. It’s not blank now. The above is that, with decorative washi creating the box. Add some stickers, stamps, various ephemera, and pens with a bold nib — 1mm or higher– and I am off and running.

The book above is my landing pad, which means it gets everything that pops into my head, much of it to be transferred to its proper place at another time. I am one hundred percent more comfortable composing anything in longhand first. Once the whatever is on a page, I can move it to the dedicated one later. I work out a lot of stuff in this book, though I do have a separate place for mental health/therapy things. I grabbed a bunch of these books when they were on sale for under fifty cents a pop and know I am well supplied for the year to come.

planner shift

Another thing that comes to mind this time of year is planners. I haven’t been clicking as well as I would like with my Happy Planners, though I will see out the year in the two I am using. For 2026, though, the above is what feels most natural. I eyeballed the layout of the Archer and Olive planner, available in dated or undated, and gave recreating it in a dot grid journal (also A&O) a whirl. It makes sense. It’s fun to decorate. The biggest change I made was splitting the section the printed planner calls “notes” into Saturday and Sunday, then using the bottom two sections, which the printed planner has labeled for the weekend, and making those my note section. I am equally comfortable with customizing the dated version or dating an undated one myself.

Since I am well stocked with journals (but never averse to adding to the family) I am leaning toward using what I have. This fits well with wanting to have separate home bases as it were for each individual project. I love what I am working on this autumn. I am currently reading a wonderful medieval romance ARC, and just finished listening to a medieval romance from a favorite author in audio, which added a whole other level to the experience. Reading is getting better, which I welcome. I have a contemporary Christmas romance novella on the front burner, the second novella in my medieval romance series queued after that, and then it’s back to my standalone Georgian romance, which has been waiting for far too long.

This week is our move-in-iversary, which I celebrate. Real Life Romance Hero and I are making plans to make the kitchen more usable, and more aesthetic. Housemate is working on her room, and I am fine tuning not one but two desks, one for my desktop and one for laptop and longhand. Fairy lights are involved in both, and milk crates are my friends. Other bits are slipping into my daily routines. Wax melts in autumnal scents, sweaters and blankets coming into play, and a tea cabinet well stocked for the season.

How is autumn finding you this year?

as always, Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: September Super Powers Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. I am taking Mama Anna’s slot this week because 1) I am a cat, and 2) I have to strike while the keyboard is free. It is September now, and that is when Mama Anna’s super powers kick in. If you are new here, she loves autumn. Displays in stores are turning from back to school, to Halloween, which is not at all a problem for her, especially because that means spooky stationery and decorations, which she will use all year long.

The big news for me is that I got my first Chewy box. Moe, the Chihuahua across the hall, said his dad gets him stuff from there and I should try it. (This isn’t sponsored. I only wanted to explain how awesome the box is.) Mama Anna had ordered a vintage gothic romance novel by an author she loves, and hadn’t read yet. The store sent a book with the right title, but by the wrong author. It’s okay. Mama Anna will read the wrong book anyway, and the right one is on its way. Anyway, there was a Chewy coupon in the envelope, and the humans figured Moe was probably on to something, and now there is a big bag of food and some cans of gushy food. They forgot to order catnip, but that can be next time.

The humans put the box on the big bed and then did nothing. I climbed right in and started sniffing everything. It’s pretty great. I love playing in boxes, and if they smell like my food, that is even better. Mama Anna will probably use that box to store finished journals and out of season stationery, but that’s okay. I still have my Ulta bag and the last big box to sleep and play in whenever I want. Mama Anna put a catnip toy inside the box, which is super fun.

That’s me checking out the goods. I stayed in there for a while. The humans did not let me rip the bag open and eat the crunchies straight from there. I have feelings about that ruling, but they do provide the food, so I guess I can accept this.

One of the ways that I can tell the super powers are back is that Mama Anna is making tea in the mornings. She likes tea. A lot. We have a kettle and a machine that makes hot water super fast. No, not the microwave. Mama Anna is not a savage. Well, not that kind of savage. She can be kind of intense when it comes to setting up her secondary desk. That one is in the kitchen, which she uses for video chats, and probably recording some vlogs. Being able to talk about stuff makes her want to do it more, and that’s okay. I can watch her fine from my scratchy thing next to the bathroom door. Not only is it good for keeping my claws in shape, but it’s super comfy. I like sleeping on it, or just hanging out.

That’s about it for this week, except for the part where I got to consult with two of my peers this morning. They were humans, not cats, but we are all pest control experts. I told them we don’t have any pests (if we did, I would find them and bring them to Mama Anna) and they checked the thing they left last time, and what do you know, I was right. No pests. You’re welcome.

How is your week going?

Headbonx, Storm

How Improv Techniques Enhance Fiction Writing

Bloggity blog time. Insomnia has been kicking my backside this week, though I had decent sleep by this afternoon, so I am going to blabber at you and fair warning, this will not be perfect.

Photo by Claire Morgan on Pexels.com

Stock image, okay, that’s good. Anyway, hi. No plan for this entry, which fits, because that does jibe with my original plan, so maybe that works. Let’s go with that. A month or so ago, I had mentioned in an online group I’m in, where the topic was how we express ourselves. I mentioned that I am a novelist and blogger, and that if an acting opportunity were to drop in my lap, I would jump on it.

Well. As so often happened, I not long after that found a notice in our local subreddit, offering a free four week improv class for adults, very close to where I live. I did indeed jump on that. I hadn’t had formal improv training in decades, but the second I entered the room, it was like no time had passed. Here are the top three lessons from improv (which I love and one thousand percent intend to pursue more in the future) that I am applying to my fiction writing.

  1. Yes, and…; this is the first rule of improv. Take what your partner offers and add to it. You had it in mind that your character would be an astronaut, and your partner offers that you are driving a tractor in a cornfield. Instead of refusing that, “yes, and” might look like finding a way to combine the two. Yes, they are driving a tractor in a cornfield, and they are also astronauts. What are the odds that they got assigned to the first corn farm on Mars?
  2. Blurt: this goes directly against my innate urge to overthink, but it works. What the instructor suggested was that if we go for the funniest thing, we’re going to overpopulate our brain and then we can’t make any decisions, and the scene dies. Blurt out the first thing that comes to mind and trust that your partner will add to that. This definitely works when writing in collaboration, and it does work with solo writing as well. As Nora Roberts once said, “I can fix a bad page. I can’t fix a blank one.” I need to remember that. In the case of solo writing, for me, my characters can count as my partner in such cases.
  3. The Next Obvious Thing: This one met with the most resistance from me, but I am warming to it. Reference the overthinking from above. The overpopulated brain bit does resonate. Case in point, let’s say we’re doing a scene. My partner starts with “Hi, Dr. Jones. Thanks for responding to my request for a consult. My patient is over here.” What’s the next obvious thing? Dr. Jones would want to see the patient, so, as Dr. Jones, I would go to where my partner indicated the patient is. If my partner doesn’t offer anything, like name a symptom or ask me to look at xyz, the next obvious thing might be to ask questions. With no offer given, I have no restrictions, so I can have some fun. Why is the patient upside down? So, they are complaining of ABC? This patient again? This is the third time this week. Anything. Refer to blurt, above. When there are too many options, what is the next most obvious one?

These are not the only lessons that improv has taught me, which I can bring over to fiction and blogging, but they are the — you guessed it– first most obvious ones. There are others, which I may go into later: celebrate failure, make your partner look good, be observant. Most importantly of all, there is this: when you take the stage, you have everything you need to complete the scene. I may need to make a sign for that one. What do you think?

illustrated image of a redheaded woman writing in a journal as her calico cat observes.
as always, Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Papa’s Birthday Eve Edition

Tails Up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We are still in the cat days of August, which are mostly me lying in front of our air conditioner, Koolio, during the day and doing most of my cat stuff at night. Mama Anna had her special talking vet appointment yesterday, and tomorrow is Papa’s birthday. We are going to do whatever he wants, which will probably be at home, because he is a homebody. That must be where I get it. He will probably ask Mama Anna and Aunt Linda to go get cannoli, because he likes that better than cake (which is still good.) I think the Italian side of the family must approve.

this is about what I look like during the days

Mama Anna is chugging along with the writing stuff. When the sun is on her desk chair, she can go to the soft office, which is the big bed. She got a lap desk she can pop on the big bed and work with her laptop from there. It also works for writing longhand, which is where she does the most of her composing. I like to be on hand (or paw) to supervise and inspire.

Since my “days” begin at night, one of my favorite parts is when Mama Anna comes to bed after her bath and watches an old English tv show on her tablet. It’s like The Walking Dead but in the 1970s in England, and there are no zombies, but lots of farm animals. Obviously, she likes it a lot, and it inspires her to do more world building and character lore development for her medieval post-apocalyptic stories. Zombies aren’t a problem in this show, or in her books, but questions like “crap, where are we going to get salt?” and “oh no, the sheep ate the wrong grass; does anybody know what we do now?” are super big deals. Mama. Anna. Loves. It.

Reading is kind of not happening right now, which she is not liking, but the Talking Vet gave her some tips that she will try. That happens sometimes. She has plenty of books, so that is not the problem. My suggestion is to keep watching stuff and give me belly rubs.

We have Papa’s presents ready to go, and he gets to pick what dinner will be. Yes, I will be getting a special treat as well, because I always do on holidays. Usually, we share a can of people tuna.

What’s up for your weekend?

headbonks, Storm