Faithful readers will remember that the occasion for the first post on this blog was the death last September 14th of Walhydra and Hubby Jim's dear 17-year-old cat, Miso.
This sad event coincided with Walhydra's attending a "Social Software in Libraries" training, one which got her quickly past her stage fright and plunged her into the blogosphere. She sat in that class, distracted all day by her grief, and realized that she had the topic for a new blog's first entry.
Though they both wanted another cat eventually, it proved immensely difficult for Walhydra and Hubby to get past the loss. One doesn't just go out the next day and replace a person one has shared family and household with for 17 years.
Then, about four months ago, Jim started exhibiting the symptoms of "kitten madness."
When he and Walhydra made their weekly Friday night pilgrimages to the Buns and Noodles bookstore (pace Alison Bechdel), he would always gravitate to the cat books and kitten calendars and go, "Aaaaaaaaaaaawwww!"
Walhydra would shake her head knowingly...but didn't feel ready.
Vacation to Mohonk came and went. Jim's trip "behind enemy lines" to a statistician's conference in Salt Lake City came and went.
And finally, a week ago today, Walhydra found herself standing with Jim, staring at rescue kittens in cages in the local pet stuff warehouse store.
"I'm not ready for this. I didn't realize how not ready for this I was," Walhydra kept repeating as she led Jim away down other aisles.
It was no mystery, but it was indeed startling to discover how uncomfortable the prospect of meeting and befriending new cat persons suddenly seemed.
But then, there were these three brothers. Almost five months. Born to a rescued mama who was obviously part Russian Blue.
And they were the only cats making direct, calm, "you will take us home" eye contact.
Before she could get over her qualms, a straight couple adopted one—the middle one, oddly enough.
"Oh, no," Walhydra thought. "Now we have to take the others. Oh, their poor brother, all alone...." and so on.
Tonight as she types, Walhydra notes ruefully how quickly the little bugger... uh... fellows have graduated from "let's hide under the bed all day" to "let's see how high we can climb."
She keeps hearing new, alarming sounds of various sorts from other rooms. That and galloping feet.
The first night that the sweeties climbed up on the the bed to sleep with Walhydra and Jim, Walhydra was startled by tears.
She had reached down to scratch one of them under the chin—and realized, "It isn't Miso."
The memories of that wise old familiar, of all his deep, weighty Quaker manners, came back as they hadn't for almost a year.
But now, several nights later, Walhydra notices how the two little guys are picking up on Miso's habits.
They race the length of the house while Walhydra brushes her teeth. They climb up beside her for scratching while she reads in bed. They play bundling-board.
All you cat folks out there can fill in the rest of the story yourself.
These are delightful little fellows—who've managed to destroy only one potted plant so far. Grrr....
And here they are.
The foster family gave these two the names Sonic and Pudgesicle...
But, of course, cats announce their own names once they adopt the humans with whom they intend to stay.
So....
The sleek-haired gray with the stripe to his tail, eldest of the original three, will probably go by Flash.
The longer-haired youngster, the shy, stealthy stalker, told Walhydra to call him Shadow.
Walhydra knows better than to argue.
And Miso the Cat approves.
Blessèd Be and
Blessèd Be.
Walhydra has often over the years experienced the phenomenon of "Now what do I read?!" separation anxiety.
It happens most especially once she has finished a very large volume, or a series of volumes, in which she has become intimately involved with the characters over weeks or months—or, in the case of J.K. Rowling's works, years.
So...no mystery that, after finishing The Deathly Hallows and seeing The Order of the Phoenix within a week of each other, she has been in major, major withdrawal since then.
Walhydra started several other books and put them down within pages.
"I don't want to get to know anyone new yet," she whined.
Finally, stumbling around in desparation in the sci-fi/fantasy section of the library where she works, she remembered that Caleb Carr had a relatively new book out: The Italian Secretary: A Further Adventure of Sherlock Holmes.
Carr's first two books, The Alienist and The Angel of Darkness—both in the sub-sub-sub-etc. genre of murder mysteries involving historical people as amateur detectives—had been greatly satisfying.
This one turned out to gratify Walhydra's Baker Street cravings...and she didn't have to "meet someone new."
Nonetheless...in slow hours at the Reference desk Walhydra still finds herself trolling Google for mention of Potterish stuff.
[No, she's not still looking for more nude pictures of Daniel Radcliffe! Well, not at work, anyway....]
Today she tripped over three oddly delightful sites, all proof of how universal the fascination with Harry Potter has become. Here are the three, with annotations: On Neal of Arabia, "Harry Potter and the Red-faced Dad": How cool? A Dad in Riyadh, determined to rescue his kids.
On the Maylasian website, thestar.com, "You're too late, Harry Potter": "Malaysia was a magical place long before young Harry and his happy cohorts walked the halls of Hogwarts. Don’t think so? Read on and reconsider...."
And, best of all, on Like That Also Can Ah?!!!, "Top Ten Signs that Harry Potter & Hogwarts is in Malaysia": Self-explanatory—at least to Malaysians.
And, if you're wondering why so many links from Malaysia, well...
"Expecto Petronas!"
Walhydra took this picture last month on vacation. It's the lily pond above Mohonk Lake in upstate New York.She'll write about the vacation soon...but she just wants to stare at this image for now...and go back there.Blessèd Be
Ever since Walhydra entered the cyberspace bulletin boards and listservs back in the mid-1990s, she has marveled at the power of online correspondence to create and sustain friendships among people who have never met. She is still in touch with some of her closest fellows from that era.
It's no longer a mystery to her to learn in biographies and histories of the lifelong, voluminous exchange of letters between friends and lovers of previous centuries, people who lived across continents or oceans, and who might not see each other for decades, if ever.
Now, with the blogosphere, Walhydra sees an even deeper level of intimacy...intimacy which is remarkable for its frankness, given that it is out there for everyone—including our government's spies—to see.
The longing—and readiness—to know people at a real level of personhood ignores the dangers of distance or chance discovery.
And so...Walhydra wants to acknowledge the writing of one of her newer friends, Cat Chapin-Bishop, who, with her husband Peter Bishop, publishes Quaker Pagan Reflections.
In particular, Walhydra wants to direct the gentle reader to Cat's latest piece, about family life a decade ago with Peter's then 90+ grandmother Nora.
Cat and Walhydra—and the amanuensis, of course—have been trading comments across each other's blogs, as well as across the larger Quaker/Pagan blogosphere.
A harmonic resonance gets going in such exchanges.
Yesterday Walhydra cried—thankfully—when the story of Nora connected with that of her own mother, Senior Witch.
In turn, last night the amanuensis was finally able to write "On waiting and squirming" for The Empty Path, having now understood what it was actually about.
Thank you, Cat. Thank you, all of you cyberfolks. Thank you, readers.
And Blessèd Be
So....
The longer-haired youngster, the shy, stealthy stalker, told Walhydra to call him Shadow.
