As you might imagine, one who is prone to sentimental-sadness and an enormous love for cats might have constructed an altar of Objects of Great Meaning on the windowsill beside the bed one shares with one’s bearded cat-finding companion.
Here it is.
There is the now-empty bottle of Riesling in the shape of a cat, given to me by Suzanne and Dave. We drank it, stuck a candle in it, and now it illuminates the last 5-15 minutes of each day that Jake and I share. We’re on our second candle now, and the wax has come to drip down enough to make it look like the poor wine kitty is crying.
Here is the lucky-money-cat Christina and I bought one friendship-forming day two falls ago in Philadelphia, bonding over girls we hated. (She has a matching one, and it lives in the adjoining room.) Trolling through Chinatown, we passed two seedy looking men who, upon appraising us, said, “Oh my gawwwwwwwwwwwwwd”. I WANT ONE MILLION DOLLARS. (Jon claims to have the same one.)
At his feet are the two kitty-cat chopstick holders our old housemate Jacqui gave to me before we left New Zealand. They are small and adorable, which are two qualities I hold in the highest regard. LOOK HOW SLEEPY.
**pictured, but not cat-related items: pink lighter used to light our candles, anjou pear soy based candle that was already in the apartment when we moved here, stones collected in New Zealand & Lusby, MD to represent wonderful and soul-affirming places I have been, Jake’s cigar box full of precious objects and important documents, photo of Kazia and I at her wedding smiling and looking happy, and scrunchie-faced.