Ironic Inauguration Birthday

Two pieces of information: 1) Peter hates his birthday. 2) I would place him approximately to the right of Lord Melbourne (Queen Victoria's first Prime Minister) on the political spectrum, which is why he had to leave the country for two months to avoid seeing a Democrat elected. So how ironic was it that his 65th birthday fell on Inauguration Day? (Or that Inauguration Day fell on his 65th birthday.)

Yet, to my extreme surprise, he had a wonderful birthday! He played with the cats most of the day, watched a bit of the Inauguration without noticeable discomfort, and was delighted with his birthday gift, which was a Drinkwell Platinum Water Fountain for the cats. "You could not have given me a birthday present that pleased me more," he told me earnestly. The little cats have such pleasure in swatting their little paws in the stream. And then, two of our dearest friends who are a newly unemployed editor and an newly unemployed journalist respectively, turned up at the Novel Cafe to give Peter some home baked raisin cinnamon bread for his birthday. Generosity, nobility, kindness, friendship in dark days. As we walked back to the car Peter was heard to say reflectively, "This was a very good birthday." I'm thankful it was so.

We are all waiting to hear the gory news of severe budget and staff cuts at work. What can you say? Brother, can you spare a cat?





A birthday present for the man who has everything (or nothing): Cat water fountain

The Most Fabulous Anniversary in the History of Catland

Martial and Catullus in the Planter




Peter and Pindar








Yes, unbelievable as it may seem, on January 10, Pindar, Martial and Catullus celebrated one month's residence with us. Here is a retrospective exhibit of their behavior and ours as we have been learning to live with each other. (The exhibit concept alone is so barmy, it shows that the Birchall household is already long past the point of no return on its startlingly precipitous descent into Crazy Cat Shelter.)




Pindar in Vermeer mode



The Mad Face of Martial










They have taken over the workplace





They do love windows




Pindar is still relatively small





Sometimes they sleep












Two lines Peter wrote about them...

Sweet, darling, little beasties, such as climb
My shoulders as I search for phrase and rhyme


And two lines I wrote...

Tiny little cat
with a silver tail



Morning Story

Seven A.M. I find them in Peter's study, eagerly looking out the window, all lined up together.



It's a good thing we had a new screen installed...



There is much to see...birds, even squirrels on the power line...






It's unusual to see them all together.





Aspiration




A tender picture of Pindar and Martial's beautiful faces in the morning light





A portrait of Catullus, dressed in shining fur





Pindar and Catullus. The colors of their coats show up in the morning light.

Hey! Wait! Don't take me away yet! I don't deserve the hook! You haven't let me show the pictures of the cats fighting in an empty bathtub yet! They bash their little skulls against the porcelain and then they stop and wash each other's faces. I know everybody will want to see that! And what about the one of Martial with her face in a sour cream bowl? Come on! I have a LOT MORE CAT PICTURES! Honest, I do!

Reading Goes Better with Cats

Or: It's My Blog and I can Post Cats if I Want To
Honestly, I will get back to trips - and books - and incidents - and anecdotes. But during this, our Cats' Honeymoon, what else is to be expected?

The Book:


















The Readers: Peter and Catullus














Peter and Pindar

CATeat Emptor!

Pindar, the Beauty of the Family





Affectionate Martial




Clown Catullus


If you are already massively bored with my cats, Cateat Emptor! I have fallen so cravenly low that (I can hardly believe it) I am writing a blog about their progress after a visit to the vet. Once I wished to be a world beating author, then I was glad to settle for being published and selling a few copies, but never in my wildest dreams did I know that I would end up no more and no less than the commonest Cat Bore in the Creation. But surely, these faces are some reason? When acting was proposed at Mansfield Park, Mr. Crawford said, "Be it only half a play, an act, a scene; what should prevent us? Not these countenances, I am sure,” looking towards the Miss Bertrams. And surely these cat countenances are some excuse for my dizzy plunge into cat besottedness.




Eating in Company, a Companionable Tail


So I brought the Mesdemoiselles to the Vet. They are such good sweet angels they didn't even mind going. They got shoved into the carry case, but they only purred. Once in the car they mewed a little, but I talked to them and the sound of my voice soothed them. At the vet, I was absolutely astounded to learn that since their last visit, only two weeks ago, they have each gained A POUND!! Martial is a Five Pound Cat now. Catullus the 3 pound runt is now up to 4.3! The vets couldn't make enough fuss over them and said they are Thriving and are some of the happiest, most darling kittens they've ever seen. They also fussed over me for rescuing them from the shelter, and I said we were so lucky they turned out to be such sweet cats, but the vet said, the cats were the lucky ones, to have such an obviously loving home! They had their nails trimmed, and poor little Catullus and Martial had their narsty vaccinations and were pronounced in super health.

Pindar is still sick, and the vets say the upper respiratory infection can linger a long time, and she'll have to be on antibiotics, interferon, and lysene, until the cold is completely gone, however long it takes - could be many weeks. But they say she's fine, in no danger, very bouncy and eating well. I like these vets. Even though they're the clinic the shelter uses and you don't have an appointment but have to wait, I don't mind. I got to talk to other people who've recently adopted cats from the same shelter, who are also sick with this cold. (I even recognized their cats.) The clinic is inexpensive, they only charged for Pindar, and the visit including the two injections and all the new meds, came to $100, which seemed very reasonable. All three cats got full attention and advice (to which they did not listen) and I took them home and they collapsed in three little furry splayed heaps, utterly exhausted by their great adventure which I believe that, on the whole, they cheerfully enjoyed. And I sat down to write about it. Such a somnolent tale, it would make a good bedtime story, would it not? "The Three Little Kittens go to the Vet." Oh, what has become of me!




Boxed Set




Cat fight




Incredibly, the book they're fighting over is...The Great Cat Massacre! Click to enlarge if you don't believe me!

A Novel Christmas

Peter, me and Paul at the Novel


On Christmas Day, we went to the annual party at the Novel Cafe. The Novel is a used bookshop/coffeehouse in Santa Monica where my family and I have been regular habituees for...17 years now. I know because Paul moved back to Los Angeles from Chicago (where he'd gone to the University of Chicago and lived after college) in the early 1990s; he was 27 then and he's 44 now. We found the Novel that year, and it's been our coffeehouse, our home away from home, all these years! It's been my workplace, in particular; I've done a good deal of my work there, both writing and story analysis, though somewhat less in recent years, as the place has declined since its heyday.



Me and Peter dancing


It's still a comfortable place to work; I like to sit at my counter with a cappuccino and my laptop, for at least a couple of hours every day. No one bothers you while you're working, and for someone who works at home, it's nice to get out for awhile. And even though I don't engage with people much, it's good for people-watching of a sort I probably wouldn't get to do otherwise: there's an interesting mix of professionals and homeless, students and screenwriters and neighborhood people. Homelessness has long been an enormous problem in Santa Monica, and it's always been difficult for the management, to keep the welcoming bohemian feeling and yet not be entirely taken over by street people so as to make customers uncomfortable.





Music




Christmas food




More music


On Christmas Day, however, the Novel opens to all for a party in the early evening, and the mood is warm and cheerful. I think this year wasn't as joyous as last year, when there seemed to be more of what Emma calls a "dancing, singing, exclaiming" spirit; I don't want to be so banal as to say maybe it's the general economic mood, but it did feel just exactly like that. Nobody seemed to be feeling very blithe or exalted. Still, people were clearly enjoying the food and the music, the fact that dogs were allowed inside for once, and everyone was saying "Merry" Christmas to each other with nice smiles.




Paul at the Novel




Conversation




Jennifer, me and Peter



And where were the three little kittens? At home, dreaming of sugar plums...We had our Christmas turkey later, with friends Andy, Jennifer, and Lee. Pindar, Catullus, and Martial were little angels and stepped neither upon the turkey nor upon the pie...





Catullus and Pindar asleep

A Happy Jumble of Jane Austen and Cats

Professor Kay Young of UC Santa Barbara, and me, speakers at the JASNA-SW Christmas event






"The Courtship of Mrs. Elton"


Our JASNA-SW (Jane Austen Society-Southwest) winter meeting was a great success; about 90 people at the Los Angeles Athletic Club, which is more elegant than it sounds. The morning speaker, Professor Kay Young of UC Santa Barbara, spoke on Emma and the imagination, and after lunch I gave my talk on Mrs. Elton: The Bride from Bristol, which explores the implications of Mrs. Elton's origins and how Austen used this character as a foil for Emma. In fact, the day was rather like a quote from Emma: "For ten minutes she could hear nothing but herself." Only it was a lot longer than ten minutes, and I was drained!




Me and Paul acting













Lunch at the Los Angeles Athletic Club


Then there was a reading of my playlet The Courtship of Mrs. Elton. Readings have been given, to date, in Vancouver, New York, Edmonton (twice), Calgary, St. Louis, Florida, and Arizona. This one went over gratifyingly well, and for me it was special because I had prevailed upon Paul to play the part of Mr. Bird, the Puppy. This he did with enormous skill and brio, playing him as a kind of simpering Mr. Fezziwig, and rendering his poetic lines with all the ridiculousness they deserve. Very special. There were other special moments, as when my friend Natasha Zwick, playing Miss Milman, spontaneously threw her stuffed kitty across the room - just like I do Martial when she gets into my study. Or maybe you had to be there...



Catullus on Chinese Pillow<

The Twa Torbies Settle In

Pindar

I'm thinking I should change the name of my blog to Cat Bore pretty soon! Still, it's not every day a petless family adopts triplet kittens, and the combined tyrannic earthquake and hurricane only happened two days ago; so I think I have some excuse for monopolizing my blog with cat mewsings.

So here are a few more Portraits of the Queens. Today I'm doing my talk and my playlet at the Jane Austen Society-Southwest's winter meeting, so perhaps that will distract my mind from things Cat. (Jane Austen has not one single cat in her novels.) For the story of the invasion and total rout of the Birchall family, please read yesterday's post.




Peter, bemused by Cat on Computer Tower






Catullus on a Pedestal



Pindar on Printer



Cats and Peter. Click to discern heap of cats




Cat sandwich




Three little heads