watching horror movies since 1974

Our little Biscuit has gone on beyond the sea.

At about 11 0′clock this morning, we helped him move from this life into the next, and away from his suffering and pain. We will miss him so very much, but never forget his funny ways and the precious lessons he taught us about life, death, and the strength in letting go.

He was an unusual, remarkable, confounding, delightful little guy. I will miss his loud voice and whiny-cute requests for meals, his voracious appetite for his mush (canned food), his adorable “fake out” game of standing on a toy and pretending not to see it, then suddenly kicking it up with his back foot and attacking it as if it came out of nowhere, the way he curled up by my shoulder in his special spot on the bed, his fur getting everywhere, his loud loud rumbling purr – popping corn, as mom calls it – and even giving him injections and sub-q fluids and cleaning him and so many other endearing, difficult, silly, wonderful things that were unique to my little character.

In Japanese, kokoro means “heart,” but not the heart in the chest. Rather it means the “heart and soul,” the heart with which we love and long. My Kokoro was my heart and will always be in my heart and soul. I am so grateful and so much more for having known him.

The two girls looked sadly at the remains of their pet…”Cats have nine lives, so tomorrow he will wake up someplace as somebody’s kitten and start a new life,” said Ramona.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Beezus, “but it sounds logical. I hope his new owners give him melon rind. Picky-picky loved melon rind.” She picked up the shovel and started to fill in the grave. “We should have some flowers for him, but there aren’t any.”

“I wonder which of his lives we got him on,” said Ramona as she gathered damp brown leaves to strew on the grave. The girls stood looking sadly at the little mound left by Picky-picky’s coffin.

“He was a good cat,” said Ramona.

From Ramona Forever by Beverly Cleary

I was just thinking about the day D & I were married. It was very warm, and the sun was bright and radiant. My bare shoulders were quite red by the end of the day, and the wrap my StepGrand made for me at the last minute, when I had panicked about the cold weather, was quite unecessary after all.

It was a really, really, really good day. I was drunk on a little sake and a lot of happiness. Everyone smiled for us. I tripped on my dress a lot, but even that was joyful. I remember catching my relfection in the windows of the lovely lodge every so often and thinking, “that’s me in the white dress today.”

I’m tempted to say it was the happiest day of my life, but that wouldn’t exactly be true. Every day since, every day that I’ve been married to this wonderful man, has been the happiest day.

Happy Anniversary, Darling Mine.

Christmas II was celebrated in the Hyphen Household this past Saturday – the last Saturday in February being the traditional day for it.

We had such a great day – it was just the carefree silliness I needed after a couple of cold, dreary months of winter (I’m really beginning to dislike watching steam rise off of dog poop in the frigid air, but it’s still better than working for my boss back at The Agency).
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Drink a toast to the Norwegian Royal Family today, and to my dear Norge friend, J.