Sylvester

Hey Syllie,

It was sudden for us, you turning sick on Sunday. We took you to the vet on Tuesday. She said something was wrong with your kidneys and that we should bring you back on Thursday for tests.

Thursday morning, you were admitted with severe dehydration (10% of the normal required fluid levels), so the vet said she'd feed you and put you on the drip so she could do the tests the next day. We stopped by to check on you before they closed, since you aren't used to being away from the family.

You looked better.

I was the last one to pet you and after giving me one long look, you set down your head and closed your eyes for a nap. An hour after we went home, we got the call that you'd died.

I think you waited for us to come. You looked better because you were glad to see us one last time. I think you knew you were going to die, but didn't want to show us. And I think when you went for that nap, you knew you wouldn't wake up. But you felt better drifting off with us there. Having seen us.

And if you think I'm being stupid and sentimental, you might be right. But then, you don't know what a remarkable cat you were. How you touched each of our lives. Or maybe you did, but just didn't really pay attention to the fact.

After my brother's previous cat had been killed by a car, my mom went to the animal shelter to get him a kitten, since he'd been distraught for weeks. There were three kittens in the cage one day. One was cute, one was beautiful, and one was this scrawny, ugly little spotted thing that didn't look like it'd live long.

My mom, being the soft touch, took the two healthy kittens and walked away, only to be stopped by a bang against the cage's wire. It was you, Syllie, trying to get out and follow her, refusing to be left behind. So she took you home as well. And you and my brother fell in love.

You were devoted to us in general and him in particular, always going out when we did, doing who know's what. Somehow, you always always by the front door when we returned. You just knew when we were coming back.

Remember when you were still a scrawny kitten, dogs slipped into the room where we kept you, your brother and your sister? Luckily my grandmother heard the ensuing drama and saved the three of you. When you were big enough to live with the dogs, you started a reign of terror by beating them up for the smallest transgression. They never chased you again. Not even Ben.

You always demanded rather than requested anything, as was your right as household cat. And you refused to show affection in public. Always in private (and lots of it). The only exception to this was yesterday when you said good bye.

So for the eight short years you were with us, you supplied plenty of entertainment, stolen cuddles and kitty attitude. And every time I come home now, I find myself glancing to the spot where you awaited our many returns.

I know, Syllie, that wherever you are (which is probably on a bed of nails, because pillows and fluff never were your style) you're counting down the days until you have to meet each of us at the pearly dates. Because (regardless of what the dogs may think) I fully expect to see you there, walking up ahead of St. Pete, mowling at me for taking so long to come home.

Thank you for being part of our lives.

Love you, Syllie.

Misha (Slave 3)

Goal Check

Whoops! End of September came and went without me doing a goal check, but I have a great reason, which is in my progress report... Updates are in blue...

Writing: 

Continue querying Doorways. 

Not only have I done this, but The Vanished Knight (Doorways part 1 post publishing deal is on sale now. It was released on 4 October, with me rushing like mad to put together the final edits and a blog tour...) 

Finish the draft to Guardian. 

Done. 

Rewrite: 

Don't Look Back

Done. 

(Working Title) Otto

Not yet.

(Working Title) Guardian

This neither, and it might have to be postponed to early next year. Have too much to do at the moment...

Maybe finish the draft sequel to Doorways: Unlocking. 

Done. 

Reading: 

Just to read more. I'm going to go easy on myself and aim for 25 books for the whole year. Any genre or classification. Crits not included because I consistently fail to keep count of them. 

More than done. I'm at 45 books to date...

Life: 

Keep working on my voice. 

Sort of done, although this is a busy time for me and my instructor. 

Get back to guitar lessons. 

Unlikely, due to my writing, singing and publishing schedules. 

REALLY to take French and Italian, since it will be useful to my day job. 

I decided to postpone these to next year for the same reason, but am now back to reading in French to pick up the language.

Exercise regularly. This includes activities like gymming, fencing, dancing, yoga or any combination of such activities. 

Fencing once a week, yoga three times a week, also, horse riding once a week, which I deem to be exercise until cantering stops making my thighs ache. 

Eat and cook healthier food. 

Eating healthier, yes, but not cooking regularly, yet. Lucky me, my family are all keen to eat healthily.

Make a point to meet more people with whom I have things in common. Sort of feeling tired of having my real life conversations ending in blank stares. 

Point made, as well as some friends, but it seems I'll be doomed to blank stares from the majority of people I meet. Oh well...

I also want to paint more. Maybe even finish an exhibition's worth of art?

Sort of realized yesterday that I haven't painted nine months. Have a sketch ready, but when the light's good, the timing isn't, and vice versa. Exhibition's highly unlikely at this stage, but I'm not ruling it out for next year...

That's me for now. How are you doing on your goals? 

Not my will, but Yours.

Please Note: Today's post is about God and being a Christian, so for those of you who aren't interested in reading, please feel free to check out my writer's blog instead. 

Lately, I've been noticing something about the people coming to this blog to read posts. Almost none of them comment, so I only hope that the post I'd written fulfills their needs.

You see, the number 1 search topic bringing people to my blog is this: "Not my will, but yours." I know it goes to one of my posts from early from when this blog was still young. Sadly, I can't seem to find it, but I decided to write this anyway.

Because this is something I know people struggle with. Heck, I spent about half my life as a Christian (which is about eight years short of my whole life) struggling with it.

There's you. And stuff you want to do. And things you worry about.

And then there's God. Who sometimes lets things happen that we don't want to see happening.

So we (being delusional) have this tendency to think that we can do better at making sure our lives go well.

We believe in God. We're pretty sure He loves us, but we have this sneaking suspicion that if we let Him, He'll do a Jonah with us and force us to do stuff we absolutely refuse to do.

And since we're not all that thrilled at being swallowed by whales and prophesying (because that means standing up in front of people you don't know and who might ridicule you), we cling to the steering wheel in our lives with all we're worth.

Or maybe, something bad happened to you and you don't want to get hurt again.

Everyone has his or her reason to want to follow their will and not God's. All of them seem to be some form of self-preservation.

But letting God lead us is the best form of protection we have:

Trust God from the bottom of your heart;

don’t try to figure out everything on your own.

Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;

He’s the one who will keep you on track.

Don’t assume that you know it all.

Run to God! Run from evil!

Your body will glow with health,

your very bones will vibrate with life!

Honor God with everything you own;

give Him the first and the best.

Your barns will burst,

your wine vats will brim over.

But don’t, dear friend, resent God’s discipline;

don’t sulk under his loving correction.

It’s the child he loves that God corrects;

a father’s delight is behind all this.

Proverbs 3:5-12 (The Message)

The bits I made bigger are promises.They don't say He might keep us on track. Or that He'll think about blessing you sometime. It says that if we let God take the lead in our lives, He'll never lead us in the wrong direction. We'll never be brought to face something that we aren't prepared for.

It also doesn't mean that we won't lose loved ones, or that we'll grow rich.

But it does mean that if we follow God's will, and are willing to be a blessing to people He guides you to bless, He will bestow blessing upon blessing on you. The more you do, the more He gives with which you can do things.

Best. Rewards Plan. EVER.

So in the smallest thing, in the biggest thing, in that thing that's been niggling you but that you think is too silly to ask Him about. EVERYTHING. Talk to Him. Refuse to make a decision until you're certain that it's what God wants. (And believe me, it's usually not a long time to wait.) Always be willing to embrace challenges. He won't ever lead you astray, even if you have to go through some troubling times first. Even if you disagree with the decision. Because if nothing else, He knows what's going on much better than you do.

I wish I could give you an easy way to do this, but I can't. It's a choice you make. Every single time something comes up. Only you can do it.

And I pray God blesses the socks of you if you do! 

Reflection on 9/11

It's strange, really. The passage of time relentlessly dulls down our pain and bad memories.

Today is the twelfth anniversary of 9/11. Granted, the real anniversary will start an hour or so after this post goes live.

But right now, I'm sort of wondering, because it's 10 hours and 30 minutes into my day and I've come across only a single mention of it. There wasn't even mention of it on the news.

Maybe the US is still sleeping. I'm not sure how the time zones work at the moment. But the rest of the world isn't talking about it. Up until last year, 9/11 took over the Twitter trends. Everyone posted memorials and thoughts on it. Maybe there are many posts up that I just haven't seen.

It's just... I don't know. Quieter. Less raw. As if the gaping open wound has finally scarred over.

And although I feel sad for the people who lost loved ones on that day, I think this change is a good thing.

The scars remain, but the pain isn't as intense.

We've wept. We've grieved. We've mourned. We've learnt.

We've all been irrecoverably changed by the attacks.

But we didn't lose. 

We didn't bend under the immense damage a few insane people wrought.

We're getting back on our feet.

In a quiet way, I'm actually very proud of us.

Still, I just want to remember those who lost their lives and loved ones on 9/11. May you never be forgotten.

I'm Back, sort of...

Hey all,

Just a quick note to say that I think I'm ready to return to this blog again.

For now, my posts might be a bit sporadic, but I do have some stuff to say, so I will be writing some posts in the very near future.

In the meantime, how are you doing?