Stuff

September 21, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

I don’t know if this is because today is the last day of summer. I don’t know if it’s because of Yom Kippur (I am not Jewish, but I respect the tradition) I don’t know if it’s because I need to seriously wrap up some of Housemate’s things, or whatever the case may be, but I have too much stuff. It’s five pm now, and that means I have permission to knock off from running in circles and smashing my head into the wall trying to be SuperAnna, clearing out Housemate’s stuff on my own, visually impaired, and undermedicated, with transportation issues. Add in my close call with some online selling fraud (shout out to Bank of America for having none of that, thank you very much) and I am spent. Pardon the pun.

Going into month two after Housemate’s death, and getting closer to year one after Real Life Romance Hero’s, one can imagine things get complicated. No matter what the reason was, when I got up this morning, my entire being went into Enough mode. I am over the clutter. I am, no disrespect intended, over cleaning up dead people’s messes. I want things sorted, literally and figuratively and I want to get on with my life. Writing is a huge part of that. Maybe the biggest. Right now, I am preheating the oven to find out if I have correctly interpreted the right way to bake Italian sausage patties, because I actually kind of like cooking for myself, and tonight, I feel like a strange combination of sausage from the latest grocery run, cheese from the plate my kind neighbor made me after the end of summer neighbor dinner a bunch of us had in their backyard on Saturday evening, and then we’ll see what else I want. Maybe stick the whole thing on toast and call it a night. I do have fresh-ish pasta and some Alfredo sauce, but that’s what tomorrow is for, possibly.

Right now, I am putting some sort of order into the writing area of my room. Still odd to say my room and not “our” room, but since I share it with Storm, maybe “our” is still appropriate. I have yet to entirely figure out the laundry situation, but the call of my favorite buffalo plaid sheets is strong, and it is a very pleasant stroll to the laundromat, with laundry not in a basket but in a rolling suitcase. I will probably acquire a cart at some point. I do have a birthday next month.

One of the things I am doing is getting my writing project notebooks together, one book per project, and making the bookshelf next to my desk Writing Central. Melva, my contemporary co-writer is currently out of the country for a very happy trip, and when she gets back, we are in the final stretches of bringing Queen of Hearts to all of you. Finding stock art with both leads blond/e is a lot more difficult than we expected, but we are not changing anybody. They look the way they look and that’s that. Once that book is out, time to launch A Heart Most Errant, (finally!) and then I am in the happy position of Next Books. We need to decide on our next contemporary romance. My next historical will of course be A Heart Most Ardent, and I am hard at work on Her Last First Kiss, meaning I will be inhabiting the medieval and Georgian ages at the same time. Melva’s current solo project, I will let her divulge, but I fell hard in love with that book while she wrote it in writing sprints in a group we both attended and am delighted that it will come to fruition in the coming year.

There is also the pure therapy of returning to a college love, standup comedy. Right now, I am keeping an eye out for open mics, working on my first set in decades (ouch) and honestly loving it. I am trying some stuff out on TikTok at @anna_log_writes. I fully embrace my belly flop era and carry over the lesson from improv class that we celebrate failure. I am not sure what else I want to put here, which again, is a lesson from improv. When I don’t know what to put here, I start with that and go for the next most obvious thing.

For me, at 6:36 PM on the last night of summer, that means I want dead people stuff gone. Yes, making money off it is ideal. At the same time, my peace of mind is priceless. I cannot afford the worry and emotional baggage, so I will be looking into offloading some of the liquidation. Estate sellers, take the stuff, take your cut, donate what doesn’t sell, cut me a check and we’re done. I need to focus on my life now. That will include remote work, preferably freelance writing or adjacent, but I am open to other things as well. A roommate will help feed my extrovert need for socialization and halve the bills, and make one heck of a more comfortable situation for me in which to create. I want clear floor, clean surfaces, and absolutely zero piles.

Furniture I’ve carted through moves, or more realistically waved at in storage and thought “someday,” I am now less attached to, and very happy to turn into cash or pass along to somebody who doesn’t have any. I am ready for space and peace and long autumn evenings with my cat and my stories. I want to make myself dinner, a meal that I want, wash my dishes right away, put them away and tuck in for an evening around the metaphorical fire. Maybe find an online tabletop roleplaying group. I’ve wanted to try that for a while. Now, I can.

First, though, I need to make space. Selling on FB Marketplace is an education. As is finding out that Housemate’s gift of HP Instant Ink shipments ran out exactly when I need to print prepaid mailing labels, so huzzah for the public library. Only not today, because Yom Kippur. That is a very appropriate day to reflect on things past and how I would like the future to go. There are surprises.

One of my newly met neighbors asked if I might like to turn Housemate’s old room into an office or studio. I like that idea, but I like the roommate idea more, and my current room is big enough to serve multiple purposes. I do need to bring Storm’s cat tree into our room, since she’s not that interested in hanging out in a room with no humans in it. She’d rather be with me. Maintenance Dude, who is my across the hall neighbor, suggested introducing Storm to his two Chihuahua mixes, through baby gates, in our respective apartments. As in them in their apartment, Storm in ours, maybe even in her adventure cave, gates up, so they can see and smell each other but not make contact. We will see.

For now, I have an Italian sausage patty to investigate. This will either be delicious or proof that while I was raised by Italians, we share no genetic material. Maybe I will try an Irish sausage next time.

Apparently, I am indestructible.

Casualties

August 25, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Well, we have a site down. MelvaandAnna.com has fallen through the cracks, and is no longer active. That’s fine. Melva and I are looking at this as a chance to start fresh, and in time to release Queen of Hearts, Heather and Rob’s story in the Love by the Book series. This is our friends to lovers story, with single mom Heather, Rob, the best friend who has been in love with her for as long as he can remember, a kid, a dog (full of other, smaller dogs) and maaaaybe glimpses of future protagonists for future books. Also holidays, as this book covers back to school, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Phew. I absolutely do need a win right about now, and Melva and I love this story bunches, so that certainly counts.

Once I take care of a couple more things, I will get to launch my first independent historical romance, A Heart Most Errant. That’s a great carrot on the stick as I slog through the far less appealing things of setting up this new version of life. Many metric tons of thanks to all who have donated to or shared the link to the Go Fund Me, headed by the lovely and talented Debbie Jantzen VanSchaick. We are currently seventy percent of the way to goal. If we reach goal within two weeks, I will do a cover reveal on the GFM page for contributors to see first. Storm and I appreciate everything, be in contributions, shares, prayers, good wishes, or whatever it is you do. We’ll take it all.

I did not sit down to write this post with any real plan, other than to mention that MelvaandAnna.com is about to start its new incarnation. Melva and I each have our own individual pages, so we are not unrepresented. I’m still disappointed that we did fall through the cracks like this, but these things do happen. That this should happen now, in the middle of So Many Losses and changes, that they seem to be the norm these days, does not get past me unnoticed.

These days, I have set my taking care of business hours to the traditional nine to five, Monday through Friday. The rest of the time is taking care of myself, because good gracious, do I need it. The big focus on the apartment right now is to Get Stuff Out. I am selling what I can, donating what I can’t, and then the rest gets dumped. I don’t love filling landfills, but I am one person. Some local friends have offered help, which I greatly appreciate. My longer term goal is to clear out the second storage unit by October first, so I can turn in the keys (actually take back my lock) and be done with it. Ideally, I will be able to carry the other unit for the time being, to give myself some breathing room and deal with it over the winter. There is a lot going on right now, in many different locales, and I am but one person.

For the apartment, I plan to clear out Housemate’s room and then seek a roommate from among the local population. I definitely need more people around me on a daily basis, because otherwise, I must sing the song of the lonely extrovert, and nobody wants that. Today’s focus is trash, because it is trash day. If I can throw it out, I am throwing it out. I am talking obvious refuse. If it can be sold or donated, or recycled, I would prefer to do that. Friends near or far, virtually hanging with me via video chat while I declutter, is a great way to help, because companionship makes everything better.

That’s about it for right now. I have to make phone calls I don’t want to make, and it is okay to do it scared. Afterward, I get to work on some journal pages, because that is always good for my central nervous system. How is your week going?

Secondary Losses

August 15, 2026August 15, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Latest entry in the trauma conga line that is my life these days. Today is Real Life Romance Hero’s first birthday since he passed. Tomorrow will be eight months since he passed. The day after that, we need to do court stuff to start Housemate’s estate. We, meaning I, as Housemate’s family live in TN, have to clear out the storage units, and I am not sure about the apartment. It’s a lot.

I am actually okay-ish today. I am wearing RLRH’s favorite shirt, and spent the day making TikToks while sorting through Housemate’s stuff, and drinking tea. If I don’t hear from Housemate’s family by five today, I will consider myself off the clock as it were and turn to taking care of me. Maybe a walk and grab myself a treat to celebrate that I got to spend the rest of RLRH’s life with him.

Tomorrow is another day. Thank you, Scarlett O’Hara. As always, writing helps me through the shark infested dumpster fire that is right now. Last night, I gave myself permission to go all out, no holding back, verbal vomit from the backside. Gentle readers, this is your chance to slip out and come back for a gentler post. There will be some. I don’t know when, but there will be some.

TRIGGER WARNING: grief, anxiety, caregiving, housing insecurity.

Here are some of the things we don’t think about when grief curb stomps us for the third time in eight months:

My best friend died…after my best friend died. This friend was also my roommate, also the lease holder, also the one who said not to worry in the first year after losing the live of my life; she’d take care of me. Instead, I took care of her. As in bottle feeding her meal replacement shakes and changing her diapers, sleeping in the same bed so I would never be far when she needed me. Now she’s gone. Her family and I started the paperwork to settle her small estate. I think my soul left my body when I asked about where on the list of debts I should put my friend’s rent, and the clerk said, “She isn’t paying rent now, is she?” I will have to talk to management about that. The floor dropped. I wasn’t wearing my leg brace because things are wait wait wait GO. I could have used the extra support.

With every entry I made, I felt another part of my life and identity ripped away. The phone plan. Internet at home instead of public WiFi. Amazon, and with it Prime Video and Kindle Unlimited. Netflix. The storage units. I felt that devastation again because I can’t be in more than one place at one time. They are a jumble. Most of these things will need too be sold (best case) or donated, or junked (worst case.) My completed journals. Furniture I have loved all my life, hoping for a permanent place in a someday-house. Art supplies. Rheuben’s things. Stuffed animals we both loved. My special favorite author books. Research books. Mementos of a life I would give anything to have back. The me who lived that life and wanted to keep on living it. Gonegonegonegonegone.

The last time I had to be separated from an animal I need for emotional support, I nearly didn’t make it. I am going to need an ESA letter for Storm. I know a trusted friend stands ready to foster if need be, but to take her from me as well? Please don’t. That is all I can say right now. I don’t want to lose the happy home my family and I shared after the then-worst year of our lives. We had each other. We had a pact. We would stay together, and that included Storm. Now it’s her and me and no car, little certainty. I can’t be everywhere. I can’t carry everything. I am writing this at my lowest, because writing is my happy place. It’s getting Book of Job-ish around here. I remember being in Linda’s room, on her last day, noticing my fingers on both hands were covered in the blisters of dyshidrotic eczema. I already have the atopic kind. If you don’t know what those look like, don’t do an image search. My brain is fhtyyt (cat had paw on tablet screen, but she put it better than I can.) I wish I had a positive way to wrap this all together, but I don’t. I have honesty and bewilderment and pain. I want to be the one taken care of, the one who doesn’t have to do anything but rest. That would be the best thing.

For those so inclined, a kind friend set up a Go Fund Me, to help ease the transition:

Fundraiser by Debbie Jantzen : Support Anna After Two Heartbreaking Losses

Typing With Wet Paws: Domestic Tornado Update Edition

July 30, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers. I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. If you’ve been following us here for a while, you probably noticed we haven’t been posting lately. Mama Anna is pretty busy at the moment, so she gave me the go ahead to talk about it. First of all, meet Jennifer:

Jennifer is currently chilling with Aunt Linda at the people vet, because that’s where Aunt Linda is going to be for a little while. Cats are not allowed in hospitals (rude) but plush ones are, so Jennifer is watching Aunt Linda and reporting back to me. If you’re wondering why her name is Jennifer, it’s because Mama Anna had a dream where I had kittens. One was a mini me calico girl. Mama Anna was super surprised that I had kittens, but I told her it was okay; we only had to keep Jennifer. Why Jennifer? I liked the name. So, this is Jennifer.

Mama Anna is kind of frazzled right now, because there are things to handle at the people vet and at home. Some of that involves getting things we have too much of to people who don’t have enough/any, which is kind of hard to do since Mama Anna does not drive (apparently visually impaired people should not be operating motor vehicles. Go figure.) So, she’s still here, and actually still writing, but there is a LOT going on and she is learning new things and missing Papa, and it’s kind of a lot.

We are safe and housed, and fed, so nobody worry about that. Some of our friends from the old country have already been over to help, which Mama Anna and I greatly appreciate. Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian (with Skye puppy!) were here on Sunday. Aunt Melva was here yesterday, and they talked writing stuff in between all of the practical things they did. There is a lot more room in Aunt Linda’s room, and that means I get to explore new things in the same familiar place. That’s kind of the cat dream, actually, so I am not complaining, but I will be happy when Aunt Linda comes home. The people vet is taking good care of her. Jennifer will be reporting in on a regular basis until she and Aunt Linda are home.

In the meantime, Mama Anna will be more present on social media as she can. DMs, comments and emails are always welcome. Local people, she wouldn’t hate a visit (nor would Aunt Linda) or help with local errands. Aunt Linda comes from a long line of tough old birds, so we figure this will get sorted and she’ll be back home when the people vet says okay. Mama Anna is shy about asking for help, but calico cats are not known for shyness.

We are also coming up on August. Papa’s birthday is on the fifteenth, which will be the first birthday of his since he went to Rainbow Bridge, and then the day after, the sixteenth, is eight months since he went. We will probably be in a blanket fort that weekend, which is okay. Life be like that sometime. I am reminding Mama Anna that sleep is important self care.

Okay, that’s everything that was in my notes, so I am going to go keep an eye on Mama Anna and guard the house when she visits Aunt Linda. So far, I have kept 100% of threats away, so that’s pretty good. How’s July been treating you?

illustrated image of a redheaded woman writing in a journal as her calico cat observes. — Headbonx! — *Storm*

Typing With Wet Paws: Sunday Snoozy Edition

June 8, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws It’s June, which means summer, which is not Mama Anna’s favorite season, but she is glad it’s here because the next season is fall, which is her favorite. This is also the month where we observe the six-month half-anniversary of Papa going to Rainbow Bridge. I miss him, and I am doing my best to make sure Mama Anna is okay.

Writing is going pretty well over here, which makes me feel confident we are on the right track. Part of that, apparently, is me doing my weekly blogging duty. Since Mama Anna lets me have free rein of her office chair, next to Koolio, when she is not using it, I figure I can manage that. She is also my treat dealer. I know where the treats are, but they are high and in a drawer and I don’t have thumbs. I do have dewclaws, but they are not the same thing.

Anyway, the point of this post is that Mama Anna wants to update the graphics on this site, and one of those things is my signature photo. Big Sister Skye had a picture of her walking away, with her big floofy tail. I like sleepy pictures (I am great at napping.) Also, I am a sleek girl, so if I have a picture of me walking away, you would see the :ahem: Eye of the Storm as we call it. Which picture do you like? For those wondering, I did wake up and eat the treats that were right next to my head a few seconds after she took the picture.

In computer news, Mama Anna’s laptop caught a virus (she’ll be taking care of that ASAP) and her desktop is chugging along. The word she uses for it is “elderly.” This means that she is going to have to figure out how to turn Papa’s newest laptop into her newest laptop. That would have been easier if he had written down his password anywhere. Looks like Mama Anna is going to be on a first name basis with the computer guys at the computer store.

That’s about it for this week. What’s going on in your world?

Typing With Wet Paws: Mama Anna and the Piles of Doom Edition

May 16, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Today makes five months since Papa went to Rainbow Bridge. We miss him, and we are finding our way. Some days are easier than others. I think this one is going to be okay.

That cake is from an outing earlier this week, one on which Mama Anna did not take me. Still salty about that. I love car rides. Something about cats not being allowed in diners, which I think is stupid. They probably have a decent seafood section on the menu, and I bet I could fit in a high chair. Anyway, sometimes there is cake. I don’t know if there will be cake today, but Mama Anna and Aunt Linda will be going to the groomer, so maybe.

Anyway, about the piles of doom. I am not allowed to post pictures of those. Mama Anna is not fond of them, and is working on sorting them all out into some semblance of order. She says physical clutter is mental clutter, and I don’t think she is too far off on that one. Suffice it to say that I get to investigate everything, and inspect anything going in or out of the house.

Here is a picture of me in my supervisory position, said position being on Mama Anna’s shoulder. Here, we are watching something on the small glowy box together. I love our girls’ movie nights. Mama Anna is learning to pace herself on this sort of thing. Right now, we are watching the new Night Court. After that, it will be Lord of the Flies. Our viewing habits have range. As far as I can tell, neither have any calico cats in them. In the latter, that is probably a good thing. I will count that as a win.

Anyway, back to the piles of doom. Those are what happen when life gets…lifey. Mama Anna figures that this is the week we bring Koolio out of retirement. That gives Mama Anna some extra comfort while going through said piles. Even more if she can listen to an audiobook while she does so. She likes that there are other things going on besides de-piling. Somehow, that makes it more palatable. Also, if I help by supervising from a distance, odds are high I will get treats. I send her love beams while she does her stuff, and remind her that this is all a reasonable reaction to a very unusual situation. Either she feels bad about the piles being there, or she feels good about having vanquished another one. All the while, she has story stuff going on in her head. Especially when she takes care of her notebooks and pens and stuff like that. I also take care of her pens, though that is usually by batting them around the floor, usually in the middle of the night. Sometimes I mix it up with parkour.

Here is a spread from one of Mama Anna’s journals. The bathtub picture is a postcard from a local art store and then the other pictures are from the stationery box that comes every month. This month’s theme is birds and foliage. I strongly approve of that theme. Maybe they finally listened to cats’ input.

What’s going on in your world?

Typing With Wet Paws: Proof of Life Edition

April 23, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws.

Mama Anna says I have to apologize for the radio silence on this blog. I have been doing Very Important Cat Things, most of which include taking care of Mama Anna, now that it is just us girls. A lot of that involves sitting directly on Mama Anna because she is not that great at knowing when to rest, and I have magic healing purr powers. Also, the new bed is super, super comfortable, which should be very good for sleep. Well, it is for me. Mama Anna, well, she is still working on that.

Right before Easter, Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian were here, with my Cousin Skye, who is a dog. They did not come actually into the apartment, because the apartment is cozy, and Cousin Skye is a big dog. That is okay because they gave me a big bunch of cat toys, all of the catnip variety. When Mama Anna came home, I tried to climb into the gift bag, because that is where my toys were. I went straight for the ones shaped like fruit slices. Mama Anna is saving the others for after I have killed all the fruit slices. She calls Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian my nip dealers.

Koolio, our air conditioner, is not on yet, because the weather has been indecisive around here. That is what we get for living in New York. Right now, there are flannel sheets on the bed, but there are pink flowery cotton ones to go on next time we change the sheets. Aunt Linda’s window is open sometimes. I like to sit in it and watch the birds.

Speaking of watching, the other day, Mama Anna put on an awesome movie specifically for me. I think it is called Aquarium. There is a blue fishie, and he swims. There is a yellow fishie, and she swims. Then there is a white triangle fishie, and you will never guess what they do. They swim. There is a squiggly eel and some plants and rocks and stuff. It’s pretty great. I sat up straight and paid super super close attention. It kept me busy while Mama Anna had to do something else. I suspect she knew that would happen.

Normally, as a cat, I am not the biggest fan of change, but there are a few up sides to the changes that are going on over here. One, the new bed is pretty awesome. My big bed fits on it, and I get my own side. Sometimes, I climb on top of all of the pillows and watch Mama Anna sleep. Also, when she moves stuff, I find interesting things like toys, hair ties, and earbuds. Sometimes, I am the one who finds the fun stuff, and sometimes that happens during human sleep time. Sometimes that turns it into human awake time.

Anyway, I am very busy supervising, because Mama Anna is doing something called a “destash.” This means finding new homes for stationery stuff that she is not using but will be of great interest to other people. We are a smoke free house, but she does have to say that we are animal friendly. Some people who have pets and do destashes mention that their pets do not plan. Mama Anna cannot say that, because there is picture proof to the contrary.

That is pretty much it around here. Mama Anna did finish reading one library book and started another, which is progress. She can rub my belly while she reads, which works out really well for me.

How are you guys doing?

Four Months

April 16, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Today marks four months since Real Life Romance Hero passed. This is not going to be one of those upbeat posts, so I totally understand if you would prefer to catch the next one. This is an Anna post, not a Storm post, because she is a kitty, and I am feeling especially human today.

Grief is strange. One day, you’re dealing, then riding the ceiling fan of anxiety because tax times and you were not the one who did that, but then again, you were not the one who did a lot of things. The weight of partnership feels extra heavy when it isn’t there.

I am fine. Having a lot of thoughts, and this is where they want to go, so here they are. Today, Housemate and I got laundry down to the car before we hit a mutual NOPE and went to lunch and errands instead. Laundry can be tomorrow. Adulting things are depending on hearing stuff from professionals, but our apartment is nice and safe.

Throughout the day, I was keenly aware of what time it was, and what was happening at that time on that day, the one when RLRH died. There was a quiet voice in my head, in one of those compassionately impartial tv presenter tones: this is the time we went into the conference room. This is when the Catholic priest came for RLRH’s sacrament. This is when the non-denominational chaplain came to be there for me. This is when I told the team I wanted to touch him as long as possible, look at him as long as possible, because this would be the last time. Somebody kept pointing out the bereavement tray, which was bags of snacks, and all I could think of was “my husband is dying; why would I want potato chips?” I did hold his hand until the end, and I remember the gap between the actual death and the official time of death. We had the opportunity to stay in the room for up to four hours, but I wanted to be with him, not it (the body.)

When we walked home that night, it was dark. Today, at that time, it was light, and temperature was in the seventies, if not eighties. There was sweat. The contrast is/was big. RLRH loved spring. I am more of a fall/winter girl. Housemate and I have been discussing when to turn on Koolio, our air conditioner, now adorned with a handlebar moustache sticker. I had joked about putting googly eyes on Koolio, to which RLRH was opposed. I told him he’d said nothing about handlebar moustaches. I could put the googly eyes on now, but I don’t think I will.

So, where does this go from here? I don’t know. I wanted to write about this, and so, I did. Evening is here now, so time for a scented bath, a good book, and then kitty belly rubs. New day tomorrow, bringing laundry and writing. The day after that, improv class. Also getting back to social media. I am now on Tik Tok as anna_log_writes, and would love to connect.

How was your day?

Typing With Wet Paws: February Snowstorm Edition

February 24, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We have had a big snowstorm here in New York (we live in a city, but not that city) which made it an especially good weekend to stay home. Normally, this would be Mama Anna’s time to blog, but she says I owe her, so I am taking this spot for now. That’s fine. I am at no loss for words.

Mama Anna has been taking care of business around here. Part of that was getting Papa’s phone ready for its next adventure. No surprise, most of the pictures were of me. Mama Anna also found a digital camera with a full memory card. She hasn’t looked at those images yet, but that’s probably mostly me as well. Right now, her plan is to get a new card and use the camera herself, probably also mostly for pictures of me. I do not blame her. They both have excellent taste in subjects for photography.

Watching Mama Anna work on stuff around here is super fun. The other day, she found some ribbons she had given Papa to choose from (for wearing something around his neck; he didn’t like chains) and that meant we got to PLAY. I smacked that ribbon. I chewed that ribbon. I showed it what-for and showed it what’s what. We are going to do that again.

Aunt Linda is doing some research on the kinds of people food she and Mama Anna might like to buy and make. They will also be donating the wrong kinds of cat food they got by mistake. One of the nice things about living in a city is that there are humans who make it possible for us to get things we don’t need to humans and kitties who do. I want to go on record that the wrong cat foods taste fine, but I am not a pate girl. Also, turkey is no bueno for my tumtum. Enough said on that.

Back when the humans lived in their first NY apartment, when Skye was the kitty, their downstairs neighbors were a troupe of steppers. That doesn’t just mean humans who walk. It means the humans perform rhythmic movements and sounds. It also means they had to practice a lot because they did that for monies and to compete with other humans who perform the same thing. By the time they moved, my human’s (okay, Skye’s then; I wasn’t born yet) had learned some of their routines.

I mention this because with Mama Anna working on her first standup set in a very long time, she is practicing it. At some point, I will probably be able to learn the whole thing. This is not a complaint, only an observation. We cats are great at recognizing patterns. I am keeping a very close eye on all the things she is doing, be it environment stuff, writing, journals, or anything else. I am also strongly interested in the food thing. Cat food has to be in there somewhere.

In Bed, Watching Waterloo Road With My Cat

February 17, 2026annabowling Leave a comment

My first Valentine’s Day as a widow sucked exactly as much as I expected it to, but I survived it. Mostly, that was by watching Waterloo Road in bed with Storm, on YouTube. There are, to the best of my knowledge, seventeen seasons of the show, with two more contracted. Think Degrassi, but in the North of England. Storm actually has started coming to get me and leading me to the laptop, where we watch, and looking first at the screen and then at me. This is her “my show is on” signal. I am to assume the cuddle position and best not think of getting up before a full episode has passed.

My plan for the day was to not leave the house, get food delivered, and be a puddle of energy, to use one of Real-Life Romance Hero’s favorite phrases. In that, the day was successful. Not going to lie, it was hard. When the whole day is about romantic love, and mine has passed, yeah, that’s not a fun time. Getting under the fuzzy blanket on top of the weighted blanket, curling up with a soft cat, and watching a British comprehensive school’s students and staff go through a wide assortment of life experiences. Safe to say I have found my newest comfort show.

Even with the real-life complications, I am still a romance author, with a new book out, at that. Which reminds me, if you’ve read and liked Drama King, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Speaking of Amazon, we are as of this writing #284 in fake dating (under “books”) — we have cracked the top 300. If that is not actually a thing, let me have this. I have had a sneak peek at Melva’s upcoming solo title cover (it is gorgeous) and we are working on the Chasing Prince Charming reissue, to have it out this spring. After that, A Heart Most Errant, which will be the first of my first ever planned historical series. Reviews can be as short as “I liked it,” or “good story” or “Clawed is an awesome cat and should be in every book.”

Writing and publishing is actually a super good thing to keep me occupied. I met with a writer friend in person on Monday, and made plans for virtual and in-person writing sprints in the near future. They invited me to an in-person group that does timed writings, and we discussed going together to a nearby drop-in improv night. I am very much looking forward to the next round of improv class.

Both friend and I had challenging years just past, and both want to socialize more and make writing a priority. This week, I am also trying something else I haven’t done in a long time. I did a little (very little) standup in college, and I loved it. Therapy Gal thinks I can definitely get a five-minute set from recent experiences, so I am now working on my first set in decades. Since I live in a city, there are open mic nights, so here is a new adventure.

Yesterday was the two-month mark exactly. I am glad I spent it chatting with friends, doing writer things. Storm is aware she owes blogs. She has been pretty busy sitting on me, fulfilling her purr-pose as a fuzzy tricolored nurse.

That’s about it for now. Tonight is trash night, and, since we are decluttering, we have a bunch. After I put the trash out, I will grab some leftovers and return, with Storm, to Waterloo Road, under the weighted blanket.

Typing With Wet Nails

for the love of romance

family