September got lost in a fluff of cat hair, odd weather, and a world that sometimes feels like it was written by Shirley Jackson. Today actually feels like fall, and the green bubble that surrounds our house and neighborhood has an air of anticipation. Three of the kittens are spoken-for, Celeste seems to be settling-in nicely, and there's a young cat from her previous litter (after Gloria & co but before the Famous Six) who makes appearances in our yard and we must trap and spay before it's too late. Whoever released Celeste into the wild has earned a special place in hell.
Book
I'm about to embark on a YA novel. The sequel to the 1000th Floor. Because my brain is all that these days.
Music
There's a lot of good new stuff, from the ear-pleasing Jack Johnson album to the emotionally satisfying Goths by the Mountain Goats, but I just listened to the PJ Harvey and Thom York collaboration, This Mess We're In. It's still as stirring as ever.
TV
Big Little Lies was binge-worthy, and I just watched the documentary about Princess Diana's death and funeral on Netflix, but the next great things are the new seasons of Transparent and One Mississippi.
Perfume
It's really fall, so I'm wearing Fumerie Turque. It's a Pavlovian thing for me.
Makeup
Things that require glitter glue. I want to shine, but there will be no fallout in this face.
Frequently Worn Outfit/Item
Kitten-proof attire isn't exactly glamorous. Black leggings or jeans and sheer flowy silk tops when I'm trying to look sane.
Food
Buttered and toasted poppy seed bagels.
Link
Have Children Lost Touch With Nature? I know little of nature and even less of children, but it's interesting.
Bane
Is there a word for fear of home renovations? Our master bath is in a dire need. You'll hear me complain more about it, I'm sure.
Joy
Mr. Bingley |
Anticipation
My best friend is about to walk in the door any minute now.
Wishlist
An Indian summer.
Random Thought
The poop emoji is extremely useful when describing cleaning litter boxes used by kittens.
How are you? What's on your list of loves and banes? Any wishes and recommendations?
Art: September 1970, The New Yorker