Like free and incredibly cute entertainment? There’s a cat for that. Got menstrual cramps? There’s a cat for that. Wanna cry it out on a purring pillow? There’s a cat for that. Need a boost of oxytocin snuggles? There’s a cat for that. Want unconditional love? There’s a cat for that.
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Guys, it’s getting really bad. I’m drinking all the time. Licorice root tea, green tea, orange peel with ginger root and eucalyptus, red rooiboos, rosehips, honeybush, nettle, raspberry leaf, lemongrass, peppermint, spearmint, dandelion, jasmine, chamomile, saffron. I’ve started hoarding cute little bags of organic green tea, petting them with shameful delight when nobody’s looking, keeping an assorted stash in my bag while I’m at work. I’ve got a cold-steep bottle with me wherever I go. I must constantly pee. My friends may not have fully seen it yet, but my skin is looking alarmingly sexy, increasingly free of blemishes, and I’m menstruating normally like a female in full moon. This could be bad. I can stop anytime, but maybe I’m too far gone. Next I’ll be foraging and brewing my own from the wild. My friend said I’m on the risky road to herbalism, and there’s no turning back. I’m so thirsty I can’t go a few hours without sneaking a sip. I fear I shall never recover.
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Two nights ago, Grandma and I read together Ursula K. Le Guin’s, “Buffalo Gals, Won’t You Come Out Tonight?” and last night we saw Life of Pi. I like both these stories!
Buffalo Gals was read to us in Anake, and I was so tired that week that I fell asleep in the middle of it. But what I did hear slipped into my dreams, and I wanted to go back and hear it again. The next day, Marcus said to not worry if we did not hear all of it, because maybe you weren’t ready to hear the whole thing.
Animal spirits are more clear to me now. I understand how completely alive animals are in their own right, whether wild or domestic. They feel love in their own way of being that isn’t dependent on our recognition of it.
“Eco” means “house”, and to animals, their habitat is their bedroom of life and dreams. Now there is a similar comfort of being at home in these wild places as I feel in my bedroom sanctuary, or my camping tent. And I understand now the human-animal way of true belonging in the world, safety in storms, the world itself the one great comforting tent. I wonder if the people of the Tanakh felt their desert tents were a traveling world-home, at home wherever they go with the wild God of the Original World.
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