Meow

It's Women's Day... so today I may acknowledge my maid / editor's existence by allowing her to hold me for eighteen seconds. 🐾

Meow Meow

If you’ve been waiting for my next book, the wait is almost over. In two weeks, my new book will be released. I would describe it as a masterpiece, but modesty prevents me from saying so too loudly.

If you haven’t been waiting, well... you probably should have been.

Meow

I, Iran in fur

Mouse breath quick beneath my paw

Hunt ends how it must

Meow Meow

 Hazel

Meow

I enjoy watching my kittens as they stride through this house like aristocrats inspecting their estate. They're not even one year old, and yet they have learned so much. They study me constantly: how I enter a room, how I pause before speaking, how I sit in a way that tells the editor, "Yes, I am aware you are lucky." My mini majesties know that the editor exists to open cans and admire genius, but, frankly, she is more than that: I allow her to clean the litter boxes, too.

Meow Meow

Can you believe it? My babies are 11 months old — nearly a year of chaos, charm, and criminally cute behavior. They climb higher, nap harder, and sass with bold confidence — a clear reflection of their stunning, brilliant, and impressive mother.

Meow

 when the editor leaves
her wearable blanket unattended