The favorite toy is a tiny mouse-shaped ball of cloth with a few fluffs of feathers sticking out of it. Almost all of the feathers are gone. She finds it and fetches it to me to be stolen from her and tossed, and she starts all over again.
There will be a well check at the vet this morning, and as soon as someone finds the baby gate and installs it at the top of the stairs, we'll give her the run of the third level.
As much as her antics entertain, I look forward to some calm camaraderie. Play, even. The brief introductions have been as expected; expressions of disgust, but no overt hostility.
Bailey and Salem will be reaping the benefits of her room with a view once everyone can come and go as they like - indoors.
~⚓~
A scene I've been working on got (and remains) bogged down. For inspiration on the power of pacing, I returned to this book. Only a few chapters in, and I read the news that the movie has been made. I sure hope they haven't messed it up.
I am reminded of how the score of "Shakespeare in Love" moved the story along like a leaf on a brook that fed a stream that fed into a mighty river.
I hope the makers of Hamnet remembered that as well. A writer has to make music with their words. No small task
It's hard to believe that I may have already seen the best pool days this year. Even though the sun is strong, it's suddenly dipping into the sixties at night, and that chill lingers in the water.
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