"What is fame? an empty bubble:" so said James Grainger back in the 1700s. But I like bubbles, especially on sunny days when sitting on the grass with children, bubble wands and bottles of soap suds in hand. And fame? I think the closest thing I'll come to it is my portrait which appears now in my profile here and elsewhere.
I have learned that my friends are quite capable of conspiring behind me to reach this end. My dear and distant friend Lisa, herself I suspect to be a card carrying crazy cat lady, hatched a scheme and roped in Debbie who asked Ali who checked with Liz who studied my cats closely. The result is indeed a small treasure. Haven't checked with the cats, but suspect that MrP will be unimpressed as usual, mainly because he doesn't have centre stage. Basil will be disgruntled that he has to share my lap, and doubtless hoping the book doesn't get too heavy and begin to lean on him (as indeed books have in the past).
Ah, black cats, I have never had one but my sister had the memorable DJ and I don't think she ever wanted another cat after he died because he was that much of a remarkable character. He loved her dearly especially when she sang, had very picky tastes, and went so far as to push a needle off a record because it was rock and he didn't like rock. He was an opera and classical cat. He was something else. Your cats sound marvelous and quirky - just like a good cat should be! I do love my calicoes as a rule but a black cat will probably be in my life someday!
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