Here in Jersey it’s gotten quite foggy in addition to the steady drizzle that’s been falling all day. The woodburner here has been fired up as well. Dewey went out for a short time but is back inside. JK’s book reminded me of a book that was my favorite as a little girl (oh just say it, Joan, it still is!). I read the book so much after a while I didn’t have to open the book to read it! So, in the spirit of the day, gather ’round kits, because here it is.
“A Cat Called Cindy” A Whitman Tiny-Tot Tale
Cindy was a cat. Not too skinny, or too fat. Just a big, black, fuzzy, furry cat.
Cindy had a toy. She also had a boy.
The boy had a sister, whose father was a mister.
The mister had a wife. What a happy life!
They lived in a house, with not even a mouse. So Cindy had time, to run and to climb.
But Cindy was sad. Not glad, but sad. Not mad, but sad.
For, most of the day, they all were away, to work, to school, or to play.
So Cindy would sleep, not creep, not peep, but sleep…
and sleep…
and sleep.
Mother told Father that Cindy was getting lazy.
“I’ll fix that,” said Father. “I’ll go buy a Daisy.”
A daisy? Whatever is that – for a cat!
But –
Now Cindy is glad, not mad, but glad, not sad, but glad.
She has no time to be lazy,
for she has a friend named Daisy!
*JJ closes book, gently lifts a small kitten from her lap and tip-toes from the pile of slumbering kitties.*