Nothing Like the Sun

The view from my living room window has gotten a little more film noir since the Cap Hill Twice Sold Tales moved in across the street. The five-color neon sign glowers through the venetian blinds on a rainy day like the window of Arthur Gwynn Geiger's bookstore in The Big Sleep:



Some neighbors have complained about the faint glare, but the store's owner is considerate enough to turn the sign off when they close at night, so it's not like they're flagrant about it. And having a weakness for that whole trashy neon aesthetic, I kind of enjoy the ambience.

Inside, the new store has a completely different feel, a labyrinthine quality that reminds me of the monastic library in The Name of the Rose: perhaps a dozen rooms full of books winding around almost the entire first floor of the Abonita building. The space is too small for you to actually lose your way, but it almost feels as though you could.

( And then there are the cats ... )

I just want to say "thanks" to everyone who participated in my recent Name That Kitten poll. A plurality suggested calling her "Esme", a name which appealed to me because it was both simple and unusual.

After several days of trying, though, I have to admit that the name just doesn't suit her. Instead, I've come to the conclusion that this one's an "Izzy":

( yet more kitten pictures )
"Izzy" just seems to better match her wild hair, frenetic energy, and overall air of juvenile delinquency*.

Also, it's easier to pronounce ...

*That last photo, where Izzy looks so determined? She's clawing her way up my pantleg. Which is all well and cute, now, since she still weighs almost nothing, and since her claws are still too short to cut through my jeans. However ...

I know you've all been dying to see kitten pictures, so here ya go:

  
I'm still taking naming suggestions for the new arrival--I'd post a poll, but Livejournal seems to have a nervous breakdown every time I try to post one, here, so that'll have to be a separate entry.

I've been on one of my periodic flamenco kicks, lately. ( why everything sounds better with castanets )

There I was, minding my own business, reading a novel, listening to music, when I hear something go bonk in the kitchen. I figured that it was Ozzy with one of his cat toys. But then my mighty predator comes prancing into the room, looking immensely pleased with himself, a 2.25 ounce Styrofoam, plastic and cardboard Cup O' Noodles clasped in his jaws. I had to chase the little bastard to get it back, too.

And now it occurs to me that I'm going to have to start locking the cupboards ...

Ozzy, the little bastard, makes a move on my jelly doughnut:
( Caught in the Act )

My Friday began with a potentially serious mishap, & ended with ... shall we say, a new addition to the household:

( The Mishap: )

( The New Addition )

I took Puig to a different vet, last week, who told me that what's ailing him ( may not be exactly what we thought ... )

 

( And so we did something about it--with surprising results )

And, you know, even if the effect is fleeting--as it may well be--it's a real gift to see the little fella so much himself again, for however long we can sustain this.

The vet called me today with my cat's test results:

( What we know, what we don't know )