I may not be beautiful, or lissome, or even average in height, but I make up for my average looks with what I am going to call CHARACTER.

I have spent my life constantly being short-changed and underestimated—by myself as well as others. And yet, when something is important to me, I don’t give up easily. Eventually, I will do everything I say I am going to do. I will go the distance, even if it’s often a two-step forward, one-step back progress.

I think this is because I just can’t let things lie. I’ve never been able to, and when I was a kid, it got me in trouble more often than I’d care to remember. Even as a kid, I knew I was being given strong values, which would usually bend me to the more ethical and compassionate end of situations. I *knew* in the end that my goal was the correct one, and that all those who were standing in my way, pressing on me to abandon my goal so they could have their self-interested, quick fix solutions, were unable to go the distance on anything of importance.

Having said that, I do let obstacles, real and imagined, get in my way from time to time. I’m not really a bull in a china shop. However, I believe in hard work, in hard-won battles which can take ages to resolve. I do not think I have ever been given anything easily or with little effort, except maybe Esso’s love (but of course, that has been tested and tested again over the past 18 1/2 years).

I work effing hard, folks, and eventually, I reap what I sow, for good or ill.

It would be better for all of us if you would work WITH me, rather than against me, because I believe I am going to do something of significance at some point in my life. I’d like you to be there when I do.

I’m feeling much better today. So much better, in fact, that I am making a roast beef.

The truth is, there’s a lot of love in this house. From us to the two remaining cats, from those two to us, and from us to each other. Mo is not really gone if we remember her, and I’m sure, where ever she is, she’s purring and happy, just like she was when she was here.

God, I miss her purr.

Anyway, the thing is, we were lucky to have her, and all my boys are lucky to have me, because I AM A COOKING GODDESS! (LOL). Got a right proper menu lined up, and I’m enjoying the process. I just wish this kitchen was bigger. (no, I don’t give the cats scraps, it’s not good for them, and anyway, they’re not moochy).

Today, I watched the Michael Jackson Memorial on-line (streaming technology has come a long way), and cried. I wasn’t exactly crying for MJ, though. I was crying for Mowgli.

Mo’s ashes were given to us this afternoon. The urn is so small. I know Mo wasn’t a big cat, but this container wouldn’t hold a child’s cup of applesauce. Not since she was a teeny kitten could I hold her in one hand. I can barely speak.

I’m not doing well today, is what I’m saying.

I miss Mowgli so much today. I have been here, in the Atom Mill town, since Monday, and the first night was just awful. The second day was kinda melancholy, and the past couple of days were okay. Today, however, I am aware that Mo is not at the vet, or in another part of the house, but gone. I’ll never get to hold her, or rub her fur. She’ll never purr in my ear again.

Freddy seems to have “claimed” me. He seeks out my attention, sits on my lap, lies next to me on the bed, and loves it when I rub the base of his tail. I’ve never seen a cat’s butt go so far up in the air. He is lovely and soft, affectionate and sweet.

But he’s not Mo, nor would I wish him to be.

Esso used to say, “home is where the cats are.” No. Home is where the Mowgli is, and Mowgli isn’t here anymore.