Tiny Stories

I share Austin Kleon’s post, 100 things that made my year , and one person challenges me to write my own, and encourage others to do the same. But I like Austin (from Austin) - he’s young (it’s relative!) and playful and bold and scared and real. His ezine and posts have kept me going this last year, as I pledge to create a habit, a habit of creativity . Never one to let a challenge go by, or follow the rules (100 is overwhelming), I start writing, and generate a list. So here, in no particular order, are 27 things that made my year in 2021. Twenty seven into 21 - that's 1.285... Bunnie: notoriously hard to photograph but fun to try. Being bold enough to ask for a piece of art in exchange for a funeral, the heavy cast bunny a tribute to a special woman, a kindred soul who left too soon. And - as if it comes with a bonus - the forging of a friendship with her long-time friend, another who makes the journey far from home, and needs company and time to build shared memories. Walking t...

What I’ve learned from my cat: Trips to the SPCA on Boxing Day are irresistible to two young boys who are used to cold-blooded fish and frogs Multi-coloured cats leave white fur on black pants, black fur on white shirts Calling a cat’s name only elicits a response near dinnertime Neighbours who bring battered and bleeding cats to your door at dusk are to be revered forever for their generosity and humanity A cat will always seek out and find a sunny spot, but is equally happy to share the space  A ball of fluff can banish the loneliness caused by divorce and shared parenting A cat’s purr can drown out the sound of waves crashing on the nearby beach The vet’s threat of removing the ear of the world’s most beautiful cat will send me into a tailspin of grief, rivalled only by the act of amputation itself If you’re wondering what that strange noise is, investigate, quickly There is no need to photoshop out the tiny tattoo in a cat's ears unless you are selling her images on Unsplash - ...

  Warning: death and dying are covered in this blog. Please look after yourself and those around you. If you need help, free text or call 1737 anytime within Aotearoa/New Zealand.    It’s a balmy summer afternoon, and I’m heading to my friends for dinner, where Korean Chicken will salve my growing hunger. Fur Elise starts to play gently on my phone, the tune a memory of the days I had an old piano. My son is calling, distraught, an accident with the cat, an injury, the vet at Carrington. Cursing at insolent drivers and praying for green lights, I arrive, forgetting to scan in, rapidly hugging an unexpected friend in the waiting room who has her own tragedy to deal with tomorrow. I stroke Thunder, the diminutive Co-share Cat, who is lying peacefully in a box. My son, his friends, me - we weep. Deep belly weeps, blue eyes stained with tears, sobbing from the soul. Later, I watch them. Sam’s hands are bandaged, the wounds Thundy inflicted in fear and agony now treated with a...