Tortoiseshell Cats!

Hiya, Welcome back to PEP. Not too much to write about today. This post is later than usual as I had several errands to run this morning, including picking up my two cats from boarding. I currently have a 5 yr old polydactyl tortoiseshell named Lucy and a 5 yr old diluted tortoiseshell named Lily. For those that don’t know, polydactyl means Lucy has five toes on each paw instead of the ordinary four most animals have, another term is Hemingway cat. Lucy has the typical black and russet coat of a tortoiseshell and Lily is diluted in that she has the pattern but is gray and silver instead. Both are gorgeous kitties and were in for boarding this last weekend as a test for this November when I’ll be out of town on a cruise and don’t have any other arrangements for them. They did fantastic so I feel much more comfortable leaving them. You’ll hear a lot more about them as this blog goes on as I love animals, especially my own. I’d love to hear about any of ya’lls pets.

LilyandLucy1Lily is on the left, Lucy on the right.

Last week, I mentioned I was experimenting with some international baking and would be trying my hand at a British Cherry Cake. It went fairly well, you can see the pics on my Instagram and Twitter linked down below. It needs practice but so does most things in life that you are passionate about, even those you’re naturally talented at. I’ll be baking something else this week though I’m not sure what just yet. It won’t all be international, some will be American, though I suppose to many that would be international to them just as some of what I consider international isn’t to them. If you’ve tried your hand at some baking or even cooking, I’d love to hear about it!

This week’s journaling question: What is a mistake people often make about you?

My answer this time is pretty simple and on the surface only really. When I was younger, pre-teens, everyone always guessed that I was older than I actually look. However, once I hit 16, everyone started guessing I was younger than I actually am. No matter whom I ask, who guesses, they’re always at least two or more years lower. I am in fact in my late-20s but everyone always guesses 21-23. I don’t drink all that often but I can count on one hand the number of times I haven’t been carded. I don’t know how generic that phrase that is but it means asked for my ID to make sure I’m old enough. I can remember once when I was in a grocery store just a couple of years ago, and there was a table with samples of wine. The person I was with didn’t get asked for her ID but I was asked for mine before I could have this little bitty sample. I find it amusing and in most cases complimentary now but when I was younger it was pretty aggravating. But I know when I’m older I’m going to be really grateful for my luck with genes.

This week’s writing: “You’re right above ‘clown’ on my creepy scale.”

The young man clutched his chest as if she had gravely injured him with her words.

“I don’t know why! I haven’t done anything! Yet.”

“There’s the keyword, yet.”

He grinned nervously; she clearly wasn’t supposed to have heard that last word.

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“But everyone else is up for grabs?”

The brunette man winced, he was fouling this up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied well enough. Leave.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, the door’s right behind you, don’t let it hit you on your way out.”

“I really can’t.”

She raised a trim black eyebrow, “Oh?”

“You see those people out there?”

She glanced uninterestedly towards the window currently being fogged up with the breaths of the mass crowded against it.

“I head out there without protection; I’ll be mobbed and torn apart.”

“Okay. That’s a problem?”

He flinched; he’d really pissed her off this time.

“I know I fouled up.”

“It’s a bit difficult to mess up when you’re a complete stranger but I think you’ve actually managed it.”

He swallowed tightly, “I’m not a complete stranger.”

Her brown eyes narrowed and he didn’t like how they darkened, he was used to seeing that look on her face towards other people, not himself.

“What do you mean; I’d remember someone like you.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant that in a good way or not, “Do you remember three years ago?”

She scowled, it was well-known amongst her circle of friends, that she had lost a year of memory three years ago after a harsh car accident, but she’d kept it from the public beyond the direct aftermath.

“What’s it to you?”

“That’s a no, then. Before that car accident, you knew me. We knew each other really well, actually.”

A spark lit in her eyes and he hoped perhaps she remembered him.

“You’re the mystery boyfriend everyone refuses to talk about.”

“Uh, refuses?”

“Something about you vanishing after the accident and never returning and the wreck was your fault.”

“I didn’t disappear out of my own will and the wreck was most definitely not my fault. Something that bad can’t be one’s fault if they weren’t even in the country at the time.”

“I suppose you have a point. If I help you sneak out the back, will you fill in the blanks?”

“Happily. I’ve missed you, this is just the first time I’ve been able to find you and haven’t been blocked from you.”

“Let’s go.” © Paula Crofoot

Also, I’m obsessed with music, amongst many things, so starting with this week’s post, I’ll post what song was running on my iPod at the time of posting this week, putting it on shuffle each week. This week: Hey Angel-One Direction MITAM.

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