Aacreep - Jonathan

Tomboy-esque

Merry Christmas to you all !  

Here are some tiny studies of my foggy neighborhood. 

I really don’t care how you identify or which bathroom you use as long as you don’t make a mess and flush when you are finished.

Pocket

Forest Palace by artist Maxime BiBi.

Excerpts for a 1920's newspaper during the Spanish Flu

Hello :), we know your thoughts on dogs Mista Gaiman, what about cats?

I went through a period of about twenty years when I never had fewer than five cats living in my house, and normally had about eight or nine, if you included the two mad sisters in the basement who did not mingle. And when the last of them but one died (her name was Princess) I felt like I'd been there for so many dead and dying cats, and had buried too many friends (not including Furball, who was hit by a car and I didn't find out about it until it was too late to find and bury her, although I hunted for her body along the country road for a day) and that I was okay in future with not looking after any more cats.

If I wind up living somewhere else that cats appear at my back door and move in, I won't throw them out, but I don't want to seek out more cats. Too many goodbyes, too many heartbreaks.

(And for that matter, it's been a little over a decade since Cabal died and I'm only now starting to imagine a world where, if I live somewhere else, I might possibly share my life with a dog again.)