Sunday Journal – Why Cats?

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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Fur. It’s everywhere. Yesterday I got home from my day job and sat down at my desk to write. My middle cat, Nadya, hopped up on my lap for some cuddles. I pet her, and loved on her, and she jumped down.

And I had fur in my glasses. Between the glass and my eyeball. Hrr???

So why do we put up with this?

Because cats are cuddle muffins. An Austrian friend of ours calls it “snoogling.” Cats are great snooglers. He believes male cats, especially large ones, are better snooglers.

I think it depends on the context. For example, if I’m at my desk, Nadya will climb up on the shredder to my right and then onto my lap. She knows she’s not supposed to be on the desk, but she’ll wedge herself between my stomach and the desk and lean… on… my… hands… while… I… try… to… type… sajs;lkdfjl;dkja;ls…

She full on lies across my husband’s mousing arm when he’s trying to work on photo editing for his business.

Boria, our largest and oldest cat, isn’t interested in snoogling if you’re looking at him. He’ll only snoogle if you don’t look at him and “don’t notice” he’s there.

This is difficult when he’s twenty pounds and white.

He likes to pin your legs to the couch or the bed. In fact, I think my kid’s legs are stunted because he grew up with a cat on them. (This is an inside joke, because my kid is a head taller than me or my husband.)

And then there’s Kolya. Most of the time he runs around like his tail’s on fire. But when he wants to cuddle, it’s when I pull out my journal. Or my knitting. Or my loom. Or my beads. Or… You get the picture.

I wish *I* could get the picture, because his other favorite thing to do is chew on my glasses. I have to put them in their hard case at night, or risk waking up to perforated spectacles. My last pair had little teeth marks all over the ear pieces from when he was a baby and before I was on to his dastardly plans. Now we know better.

And then there’s when they barf on the bed because of fur balls. Or, my favorite, on the lintel of the bathroom, right before I get up to go in there and am not yet awake, nor wearing my glasses, so I can’t see the floor clearly. The stuff oozes between your toes and you know you’ve been gotten by a smug ball of fur that will soon be a hat, complete with tail.

Remind me, why do we have cats again?

Oh, yes. The snoogling.

What about you, Dear Reader? What are your favorite pets?

Throwback Thursday – Suffering from amnesia / a talking dog / refused to leave the bathtub.

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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Introduction:  I love writing from writing prompts.  Over the years, I’ve amassed a collection of story bits from various prompt circles and exercises.  A particularly fun one to play with is called The Amazing Story Generator.  You pick three pieces at random and write a story based on what comes up.  

Writing Prompt:

  1. Suffering from amnesia
  2. A talking dog
  3. Refused to leave the bathtub

Flash Fiction Snippet:

“No.”

“Ralph, come on. You have to get out of that tub! Now!”

“Why? And who are you, anyway?”

“Oh, Ralph. I’m Louise.”

“Louise, come on. Just leave him in there.”

“Dad, you can’t. He’s gonna clog the drain!”

“Janey, don’t whine. And put your phone down; this does not need to go on Facebook.”

“Oh, Mom.”

“I’m hungry. Are you people part of my pack? Where’s the food?”

“Yes, hello? Animal Control? Harry, I got through. Yes, hello? This is Louis Hancock and six-two-five Crescent. The dog won’t get out of the tub.”

“Damn right I won’t. None of you will give me a straight answer. I’m hungry, too. Hey, is that a cat? I could eat a cat.”

“Mooom!”

“Yes, he’s a Siberian Husky, but he’s from Canada, not Siberia. He doesn’t have any Russian accent at all. What? Who? No, Harry’s from Poughkeepsie. The dog’s from Saskatoon.”

“Janey, your mother said no Facebook. Ralph, you may not eat the cat. You love that cat. You’ve known him since he was a kitten.”

Want to give it a try, Dear Reader?

 

Throwback Thursday – The Martian Babies

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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The Martian Babies

“Xaxon, you space hound! How have you been?” The hail came from behind Xaxon Broxes and he turned.

“Javnon Pequent?” Xaxon blurted. “Is that really you?”

Javnon strode up, his lemon-yellow ship-knits clashing horribly with his shock of long orange hair. “Of course it’s me, you pirate! You still piloting that elderly old bird of yours?”

“The ZX-5 is the best in its class,” Xaxon retorted stiffly.

“Of course it is!” Javnon agreed airily. “Come. Buy me a drink?”

By the time Xaxon realized the direction of the suggested transaction, Javnon had already clamped onto his arm and was leading him steadily toward the central grav bar. It floated, gently bobbing, the anti-grav field generators nearly invisible under the heavy synth-wood construction. Brilliant cyan electrified gas tubs leant the drinkers a cadaverous air, but Javnon elbowed his way in to plunk his ample bottom on a stool and dragged Xaxon down onto the adjacent one.

“Two Glaks!” Javnon boomed.

The bartender, a pert Saturnian with electric fuchsia hair and perky breasts – all four of them, nodded, bored. She set the foaming brown sludge in front of Javnon and waited expectantly. Xaxon sighed and swiped his credit chit. She flounced away while Javnon turned to him.

“So. How did you make out in the Martian debacle?” Javnon all but whispered, looking around furtively.

Xaxon shrugged. “I wasn’t stupid enough to get my nose in on that one,” he answered and took a sip. The Glak was stale, but washed a parsec’s worth of space dust out of his mouth.

“Stupid. Yes, hmm, well,” Javnon mumbled. He took a long swig of his Glak and burped phenomenally.

“Nice one,” Xaxon murmured. “You, um, didn’t actually give them money, did you?”

Javnon sighed. “Yes, actually.” He waited a moment, then added plaintively, “It seemed like such a good deal, too!”

Xaxon nodded sympathetically. “But don’t you know the Martians love to defraud us?” he admonished gently. “I mean, what did Binxman say?”

Javnon flushed. “She left me,” he said into his Glak. “Six cycles ago, actually. Got fed up and left me for a Wormhole wildcatter, lucky bloke.”

Xaxon felt a flash of envy. He took a sip of his drink to cover it and looked at Javnon. “You didn’t lose a lot, I hope.”

“Most of it,” Javnon admitted. He glanced at Xaxon so quickly that Xaxon only got a flash of green eye and then was looking at Javnon’s ear again. “The ship, too.”

Suddenly everything made sense. Xaxon’s heart sank. Sure enough, Javnon looked at him pleadingly.

“You don’t have space in your crew, do you? I mean, even if it is just a ZX-5…” he trailed off.

Xaxon thought it was rich to insult his bird at the same time as he asked for a job. But, he’d known Javnon for a long time. “I’ll think about it,” he hedged. “I just might have need of a mechanic.”

“Not a Starnav?” Javnon said hopefully.

Xaxon laughed at that. “You don’t think small, do you?”

Javnon looked guilty, but met his eyes easily enough. “No,” he agreed cheerfully.

Xaxon made his decision. “All right. Meet me at Bay 14 at oh-nineteen station-side.”

Javnon beamed. “Thank you! You won’t regret this!”

Xaxon wasn’t entirely sure he agreed with that, but shook hands dutifully. He checked his chrono and stood. He downed the rest of his Glak in one shot and patted Javnon’s shoulder. “I’ll see you shipside,” he said and left the bar.

He arrived only five minutes late for his appointment with the prostitute. She let him take his time and didn’t overwhelm him with exotic positions, and he enjoyed himself immensely. He even left her a thirty-percent tip in gratitude.

He reached the ZX-5 five minutes before oh-nineteen and saw Javnon waiting with four heavy carbonite crates. He slowed, frowning.

“What the asteroid is that?” he blurted.

Javnon flushed, looking furtive. “It’s just a little cargo, Xaxon. Nothing too weighty…”

Xaxon stopped. “What is it, Pequent? I’ll not have contraband on my ship.”

“It’s not contraband,” Javnon protested. “It’s … um, specimens.”

“Of what, Pequent?” Xaxon pressed.

“Martians,” Javnon whispered, glancing around fearfully. “We should go…”

Xaxon was thunderstruck. He started to step forward, to yell or thrash Javnon’s ridiculous red-headed body, he hadn’t decided. The station klaxon let out with an almighty squeal and Javnon’s face drained of color.

“All ships not cleared for station undock are detained by order of Stationmaster Sylipsyn,” a voice intoned. “All ships not cleared for station undock are detained by order of Stationmaster Sylipsyn.” The voice droned on, repeating its warning in Martian, Salubrian, and even Saturnian – although hearing Sylipsyn pronounced in Saturnian would have made a cat laugh. Unfortunately, Xaxon was not a cat. Nor in a good humor.

“Get on board,” he snapped. He snatched the controls for the nearest crate and jammed the button down. He thumbed his comlink in his collar. “Minkis, coming aboard now. Four new crates and one mechanic. Clear station now, before lockdown. Is that clear?”

There was a startled pause and then Minkis responded. “Aye, sir.”

Xaxon was relieved Minkis was on duty. He was calm in a crisis. He swept on board, Javnon behind him, and they stowed the crates in cargo bay 2.

“Strap in,” Xaxon snapped at Javnon and moved aft to the bridge. Javnon, after momentary indecision, stumbled along behind him. Xaxon ignored him. If he wanted to fly about during undock, fine.

Maybe he’d break that red-headed noggin and save Xaxon the trouble.

They cleared the station doors just before they started to close. Xaxon strapped into the Captain’s lounge and watched Javnon slip into the Starnav’s console. Minkis thumbed a switch and the wormhole flared to life.

“Here we go,” Xaxon murmured.

“Let’s hope they don’t follow us,” Javnon whispered nervously.

Xaxon turned his lounge to stare at him. “Who?”

Javnon turned innocent green eyes to him. “Their parents, of course!”

 

Originally appeared on Explore the Worlds of A. Catherine Noon, 03/14/2008.

Monday Morning Pages – Using Diary Techniques

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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Writing a journal or diary has a long history.  It’s taken many forms throughout the years, and diarists have developed tools that help get at the heart of the self.

Two of my favorites are cathartic writing and listing.

In cathartic writing, we write about something that evokes strong emotions – a memory or an event that happened to us.  If we’ve experienced trauma, it’s a good idea to do this with the assistance of a therapist.  But cathartic writing can help us get the emotion out of our heads and onto the page, where we can begin to work with it and make it something positive.

In listing, we make lists of related things.  They might be lists of tasks to accomplish, or it might be lists of places we’ve lived – roommates, pets, apartments, etc.  Listing can be a way to free associate – for example, start with coffee and make a list of all the beverages you can think of.  Setting a timer for five minutes can help add structure to this exercise.  Try listing things in your bedroom at home, if you’re away from home; or your office, if you’re at home.  Use it to strengthen memory, by listing everything in your bedroom growing up at the age of five, then eight, then twelve.

What about you, Dear Reader?  What tools do you like to use in your journal?

Sunday Journal – Sicky Sicky Boo Boo

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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I hate being sick.  It steals my motivation to do anything.

I have, though, managed to keep up with the laundry.

Yippee.

So, rather than leave you with nothing, I share this shot I took at our annual writers retreat in Utah, USA, this past September.  The vistas were truly stunning.

What about you, Dear Reader?  What are you doing this weekend?

Saturday Sojourn – Travel and Research

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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So, when you’re planning a writing retreat, don’t invite the pissed off, territorial racoon.

Jus’ sayin’.

This particular one snuck up on us.  My buddy and I were walking back up to our cabin and we both froze.

He’s staring at us, Ray…

Here’s a couple other travel tips:

  • Consider timeshares.  This one is on the mountain above Ogden, Utah, USA, and is absolutely gorgeous.  They tend to be very reasonably-priced.
  • Don’t overfill your agenda.  Pick, at most, one special thing to do each day.  People like to sit around and gab.
  • Set the atmosphere.  A candlelit dinner can pull people together.  Let each person talk about what they’re proud of that happened in the last year.  (And as a tip, have some tissues handy.)
  • Bring some story prompts and a timer.  Getting on the page can be a lot of fun, especially on a trip with a new setting.
  • Set the menu plan ahead of time.  It saves money to shop at a local grocery store and to make meals at the event.  If you have a kitchen, it’s super helpful.

What about you, Dear Reader? What’s your favorite tip for group events?

Throwback Thursday – No Humans

Noon and Wilder Posted on by
She's Looking At Me, Ray...

Image ©2015, A. Catherine Noon; All Rights Reserved

Succession

Tik-tik shivered and ruffled his fur in a wave from his whiskers to his tail. He sneezed. Rain again. Four suns of the stuff! He started forward again and stepped through a patch of dead leaves into yet another puddle, burying his paw up to the first joint. He hissed involuntarily.

Kao turned his head and clicked his teeth, black tail lashing. “Quiet!”

Tik-tik glared at him and heaved himself out of the indentation. “Knock it off, Kao. You’re not the boss of me.”

Kao whirled on one hind paw and swiped his claws past Tik-tik’s nose, making his whiskers wave in the wind of their passing. “Not yet, maybe,” he purred. The white fluff on the end of his foot was spattered with mud.

“Your feet are dirty,” Tik-tik noted.

“Pheh!” Kao spat and turned back to the path.

Tik-tik licked his chops and started after Kao again. The rain continued relentlessly.

“Tik-tik!” Mai-mai squealed, loping out of the cave to meet them. “You’re back!” She whizzed past Kao without acknowledging him and pressed her nose into Tik-tik’s shoulder. “It’s raining!”

“You only realized that now?”

“Hi, Mai-mai,” Kao greeted.

“Hi, Kao,” Mai-mai said without looking. “Tik-tik. Paw-paw is here.”

Tik-tik’s ears lowered. “When did he arrive?”

“Start of sun. He’s not well.”

Tik-tik, looking right at Kao, saw the flash of hunger in his eyes. Kao said nothing, just turned and went into the cave. Mai-mai watched him go.

“Tik-tik. Kao–”

“No, Mai-mai. Hush.”

“But…” She trailed off, worried.

“Come,” Tik-tik said. “I’m hungry and dirty. Let’s go in, see the others.”

Mai-mai clearly wanted to argue but followed him docilely enough.

Kao had walked over to the circle where Paw-paw lay and touched noses. Paw-paw barely responded.

Kao turned and saw Tik-tik. His lips were curled up in a smile. He looked to his left, past Tik-tik, to where Bo sat with his two females.

“Kao,” Bo greeted, his voice carrying in the small space.

“Bo.” His tongue curled out insolently and licked his chops. “Paw-paw isn’t doing well.”

Bo blinked and stood up, tail lashing. “Show respect, Kao.”

Kao glanced at the ailing form behind him. “He can’t hear me, Bo. He’s nearly gone.”

Bo stepped forward and growled. “You are out of order!”

“Tik-tik!” Mai-mai whispered urgently.

“Shh.” He stepped between her and the impending fight.

Kao saw him move. “You can’t protect her anymore, Tik-tik!”

Tik-tik blinked as Mai-mai’s tail lashed angrily. “Why do I need to protect her, Kao?”

Kao snorted. “Coward.”

Tik-tik roared. It came out of him almost from his claws and felt good, powerful. The sound filled the cave and Bo laid his ears back. Kao, on the other hand, looked satisfied. “I can’t fight Bo until I challenge you, Tik-tik. You’re his second.”

“Paw-paw is not dead!” Bo shouted.

Kao whirled and one paw shot out, his claws extended. The spray of blood flew all the way to the cave wall and Paw-paw collapsed in the gravel, his throat a bloody ruin.

“He is now,” Kao spat.

Bo stepped forward, his fur on end and his hackles bristling. “You should not have done that!”

“Why?” Kao sneered.

“Because now I can help Tik-tik, Kao! You are out of order!”

A brief flicker of uncertainty went through Kao’s eyes, but Bo didn’t give him a chance to react. He sprang forward with a deep, coughing roar. Tik-tik leaped with him.

The fight was unlike anything Tik-tik had fought to that sun. Kao seemed half mad with a wild insolence. Bo moved next to Tik-tik like they’d rehearsed it, but Kao was faster than both of them. His claws were everywhere and he nearly snapped Tik-tik’s foreleg with his jaws, missing by a whisker-length.

Tik-tik crouched, preparing to leap onto Kao’s back so Bo could take his throat. Some sound or movement made his eye dart to the side. “Mai-mai!”

Mai-mai, ears flat to her head and fangs clearly visible as she growled, stalked forward, front low to the ground. She hissed, a low and angry sound unlike any Tik-tik had heard from her. Kao paused, startled.

Bo jumped forward and his jaws fastened on Kao’s throat. He bound Kao’s forelegs in his own and curled onto his back, his back claws tearing bloody rents in Kao’s side and stomach. Mai-mai darted forward and swiped her front paw, all five claws out, across Kao’s muzzle.

“You will never have me!” she screamed.

Bo growled and tightened his grip. Kao’s struggles became wilder as he fought now for air. Bo strained, and Kao’s breath exhaled on a gurgle. He collapsed, dead.

Bo stood and shook himself. Glancing at Paw-paw’s body, his ears flattened momentarily. He met Tik-tik’s gaze and Tik-tik bent forward in a bow.

After a moment he heard the others do the same. When they all were bowing, Bo stood up to his full height and roared, deafening Tik-tik. Tik-tik straightened.

“Bo. You are leader,” Tik-tik said, his voice loud in the silence that followed Bo’s roar.

Bo looked at him, whiskers forward. “I…”

Tik-tik took a step toward him. “Bo. Paw-paw was old and his time was close. It would have happened anyway.”

Bo licked his chops and sat, his tail curling around his paws. “Tik-tik. I choose you as second.”

Tik-tik’s ears perked forward. “Thank you.”

“Mai-mai. Will you take Tik-tik?” Bo asked then.

Mai-mai blinked and stepped forward. She sat next to Tik-tik, her tail brushing his side. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Tik-tik blurted.

Mai-mai looked at him, her pupils dilated. “What did you expect?”

“I…” Tik-tik didn’t know what to say.

“Go, my friend,” Bo coaxed. “We will clean up the home. You chase your mate. You’ve earned it.”

Mai-mai was purring. She glanced at Bo and then swiped a paw across Tik-tik’s flank. “Catch me, if you can.” She whirled and was gone.

Tik-tik took off after her. The rain didn’t seem so bad, anymore. His tongue lolled out briefly and he sped up.

This post originally appeared on Explore the Worlds of A. Catherine Noon, 03/13/2008, as part of the March FADness (flash-a-day) competition.

Writer Wednesday – Snail Mail

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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Hello, phone company? You sent me a cat in my bill.  I’m not sure that’s part of my calling plan.

Today’s Writer Wednesday is about the joys, and the whys, of snail mail.  Without further ado…

Five Reasons To Send Snail Mail

  1. Getting non-bill mail is way more fun than getting bill mail.  Sorry, phone company.
  2. You suddenly have a reason to use all those stickers you’ve been collecting your whole life.  (No, I’m not spying on you; I have the same kind of collection.)
  3. Here’s a Zen reason:  when you’re full of ideas, and feel like an over-filled balloon, writing a letter instead of sending an email or talking on Facebook can help you get the ideas out of your head and onto the page.  This will help you bleed off some of the pressure and help you keep in touch with your friends and family.
  4. There are even Meetup groups centered around snail mail.  I’m serious!  If you’re here in Chicago, here’s the one I belong to:  Snail Mail Revolution.
  5. You might find that you like it so much, it will kindle, or rekindle, an interest in small mail art.  There’s a large, global community for it, too!  My friend Shellie Lewis talks about it on her blog – and she’s got a ton of other inspirational stuff there, too.  Check it out, here.

What about you, Dear Reader?  What’s your favorite kind of mail to receive?

Tuesday with the Tauruses – Travel Tips

Noon and Wilder Posted on by

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I’ve met some of my closest friends online.  (I’ve also met some nutballs, but I’m choosing to ignore that.) Way back when we met, in 2008, (which is the dark ages as far as the internet is concerned, lol), I knew that I wanted to meet in person.  I thought the idea of having a retreat together would be buckets of fun.

That dream became a reality and we’ve been meeting ever since on an annual basis.  It reminds me, to be honest, of my friend’s family reunions – when she started, it was just a few people, but she’s grown it to a huge affair with over a hundred people.  Now, I don’t intend to have such large gatherings for our modest little writing retreat, but here are some travel tips I’ve put together for people who’d like to meet in real life, and not just virtual.

Five Travel Tips

  1. Pick a weekend and camp on it.  For example, the last weekend in such-and-such month will be our regular meeting time.
  2. If you can, host it in locations where a member of your group can have people camp out.  It’ll be like a giant slumber party, but for adults.
  3. Watch out for time zones.  Traveling from Chicago to Portland, for example, means going back two hours in time zone, so you want to account for that when making travel plans.  This means, allow for a day to travel on either side of the event itself (say, Friday and Monday for travel, which allows a full day Saturday and a full day Sunday for play).
  4. Not everyone is used to travel.  Make sure to prepare a list of everyone’s travel plans and include their mobile phone numbers, as well as their spouses who have stayed behind, in case it’s needed on travel days.
  5. Not everyone can afford to travel.  Avoid making someone feel left out and utilize technology to your benefit.  Google Hangouts and Skype are both free, and with some careful scheduling, the people who can’t attend in person can attend virtually.  Make sure you have someone, or more than one someone, take photographs and document what’s happening during the retreat as well – this will be for your own memories, of course, but also so that people who cannot come can feel like they’re a part of it.

What about you, Dear Reader?  What are your favorite travel tips?