Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Inkhat Meets the Chocolate Poets!

In my constant quest to find internet over the past few days I’ve spent probably more time than I should at café’s and book stores. The intelligent, responsible thing to do would be to go home and unpack. Instead I am wasting time at a book store which has, charmingly, named all its drinks after famous writers. I am currently half way through Sappho, who is apparently a cherry mocha. Have I mentioned love this town?

If I were being honest with myself I might see clearly that the real reason is simply that I feel sequestered and confined in the big house. Neither of my roommates plan to show before September, and a trip to visit the only two people in town only served to heighten my sense of otherness. Not that they weren’t lovely people. Actually, I hope we can become friends, but they, being married, had formed that sort of comfortable cocoon of intimate life. I am fairly familiar with this, having lived with couples before. Usually it’s charming and adorable. At this particular moment it served to remind me that the closest friend I have has whiskers and enjoys playing with a sock.

Not that my cat isn’t a good companion. I do worry, however, what she will think when she discovers the multiple strays living outside our house. I see them mostly at night and in the morning, when it’s cool. It’s a silver and white mother, and at lest two kittens. I saw her this morning looking for them. She was sitting on my back stairs calling. It seemed silent to me, behind a glass window, but I could imagine the sound she made. She looked very much like my cat, only opposite. She had silver wherever Claudette had white, and visa versa. Finally, a tiny stripped and spotted kitten erupted from the bushes and collided with her, full of that ecstatic adoration of family. The two wandered away together, rubbing heads and shoulders.

I decided that they each need names, if only so I can talk about them at length and annoy all the non-animal folk of the world. The tiny stripped and spotted kitten needs something dignified, to temper that wildness, and to adjust for a life begun in the dirt. Reginald I think. The mother, being a tough, lanky lion of a cat, needs something strong. After much deliberation, I decided on Zelda. I do not have proof of the other kittens, so I will name them as they come. I hope I am getting genders right, but I suppose I can be forgiven for some discrepancy.

And now, having completed all my excuses for leaching the internet, and Sappho having been drained of all her cherry/chocolate goodness, I have no more excuses but to walk back home.


  1. Hi Leslie, love your blog! And sorry to have increased your sense of Otherness. We've been going through the same things as we've met each new person in the program for the first time. But I know we'll all be good friends, just wait!