Kittens, Cryoburn, death.

I've been rereading Cryoburn lately, my first reread of it.  It is far easier to read this time around.

The first time, I kept being afraid that the next moment, Miles would get the call.  About Aral.

As Allen pointed out to me last night, the way Miles does get the call is foreshadowed in the book that falls -- in the Vorkosigan Saga timeline -- directly before Cryoburn.

{ Warning:  sadness from death follows.  }

The other thing that has been on my mind this week, as I went back to my reread, was my aunt.  She entered hospice a week ago.  Yesterday the hospital transferred her to an outpatient hospice.

There she died this morning in the wee hours.  Probably about the same time that my great-uncle had also died in hospice, in November 2014.

I love my aunt, she was my favorite aunt.  Dad's only sister, as I kept telling people (and who half-raised him, being considerably his senior).  Today I told Dad it was rough on him; he replied, "It will be rough on all of us."

I did get to see her a week ago, in the first hospice.  As you can imagine, it wasn't a fun time.  Saying goodbye matters.

Unpacking is horrible sometimes.  I'm not doing it here.


Mood shift:  My yard kittens have discovered cat treats.  They are for them, as Tom Lehrer would say.  ;D

I have also found that cats cannot scent good smells as well when it's cold, which makes sense.  Poor kittens!

Now they will sit impatiently waiting for me to disperse treats.  I feed them first, they oughtn't have cat candy and no supper.

Fluffy, who is the best fed, quickly found that I would give more treats if her sibling was along.

She is faster than Chaosium, however -- perhaps he was less awake? -- and got more than he did today.  Well, until he figured out some had fallen onto the patio stairs...  8)


Yesterday I accidentally dropped one treat yesterday into the stairs, which are not long for this world.  Apparently the kittens felt that the one treat was more precious than anything else and tried to dig their way through the top step.  [Stairs are already coming apart, looking like driftwood, so this isn't as hard as it sounds.]

I forgot to tell Dad that the kittens were helping with stair removal... I think he'd be amused.


The Interweb says they are still kittens, not quite to juniors stage.  I never heard of that one before.

Today I deliberately fed them first -- and myself too -- before I called Dad.  Lately I've been a touch more depressive, not focusing as well, and easily distracted far longer by email or the rest of the 'Net.  Typically the yard cats get fed first.  Even if I'm having a bad day, or starving, I feed them first.

They are babies.  Whatever scum dumped them off failed the first test of caring for dependents.  Pets are dependents.  Not disposable like Kleenex.

I've had cats in my life since I was a small child, and began caring for them myself when I was ten.  Really wish I had a little cat house for these waifs, since this isn't my house...

I hug the kittens in my mind for you and me both.  Since they are too skittish for that.

Poor Fluffy, she wants a brushing badly.  She's a longhair.  It must be easier to be outdoors if a one is a shorthair, like her two cat-sibs are.