![]() ![]() Here our two are when they were kittens, 4 years ago: the ginger tabby (marmalade, orange) cat is the boy, Ian who I wish we'd called Little Snuffy the tortoiseshell with green eyes (not blue) is the girl, Clarissa, who should have been called Marianne because of her passion for dead leaves. It might not attract much attention - like her Martha Quest series, or the once stunning Golden Notebook - or the profound Good Terrorist, or her memoirs, African stories, not to omit her journals and science fiction, not have much of a following. It really moved more than many professedly seriously emotional or comic books have in a long time: Doris Lessing's On Cats. One of them had me laughing aloud and at times close to tears. ![]() While riding on a train or car or (once) bus from place to place, I read books, each time one shoved into my handbag for when I was walking. The admiral and I were away this past week - in NYC and I've written a travel piece on our time there on Ellen&Jim Have A Blog, Two Three nights & days in Manhattan. Misssylviadrake"Knowing cats, a lifetime of cats, what is left is a sediment of sorrow, quite different from that due to humans: compounded of pain for their helplessness, of guilt on behalf of us all" - Doris Lessing, "Rufus the Survivor" ![]()
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