9 pennies later

so my quest continues. finding joy. yesterday my large (over 16 pounds) striated cat stretched out across my lap and resorted to kittenhood. mewing and kneading my various parts with her well developed claws. fortunately i had a sweatshirt on.

i had to sit very still for a very long time for her to remain with me, stretched and sharing the warmth of our body heat, basking in the sun. my daughter hitting tennis balls against the house. it is amazing what "hurts" kids. sometimes i just have to say, c'mon. she got clobbered (and not even in the nose like my sister did once at a softball game, or the time i made her into a unicorn with a meat thermometer, it was sticking out of her forehead. i was mean. i also slammed a wrought iron gate which she intercepted with her forehead, just before the insertion of said meat thermometer if i remember. yes, we survived childhood. and my sister was and is a trooper. none of this, "ouch" for being hit by bouncing tennis balls. so it is hard for me to take my daughter's complaints seriously. i know what it is to hurt, and how well it can be handled...i better call my sister, i'm feeling pangs of remorse) by a bouncing tennis ball. pleeease!

anyway, i sent her away to jump on the trampoline, a requisite, hundred times before returning. and when she did, you'd have thought the girl struck paydirt. she produces the deadest twig in the yard and pronounces it a salvageable bush. but having read about budding rods, i'm not going to doubt the child. she may have a prophetic unction i know nothing about. (see, i have moments of kindness.)

she proceeds to produce a container, very small. and plants the twig.

i am reading annie dillard out loud, and enjoying the warmth of my sleeping cat (when they turn their head over and expose their belly in your lap, it's pretty cool to have that kind of trust from a relatively wild animal. i had just cleaned up the leftovers of one cute and fuzzy bunny. discovering a new definition of cute. if your head can be chopped off and you're still "cute" that is pretty darn cute.)

into the workshop my child goes, producing another, larger vessel for her "plant" (or weed as her dad calls it).

she proceeds to plant and water this twig. i keep reading aloud. the cat kneading in her sleep.

after about a minute, my girl says,

look it's greening.

wow, i say. and continue reading.

the cat departs, the bush comes inside, gets watered. and now resides in her room. i'm still counting pennies, i'm a rich woman.