Update

How was it possible I didn't post anything throughout the entire months of May and June? Let me catch up on a few things. My last post in April finished with a dramatic cliffhanger. It was about Anne, our old neighbour. She had been away for so long that we almost forgot about her. And then came the message about her departure from this world. We visited her grave some time later, a very picturesque graveyard with a view.

Both our girls were spayed at the end of April. It was a stressful time, but we got through it. The bald patches on their sides have almost disappeared.

In the meantime we bought tickets to spend some time in July at my family home. We also bought a new fridge — tiny in comparison with the trendy ones, a little black midget. We'd love to have a fridge without a freezer but it's not so easy to find a suitable one. It was necessary to buy it now, as during our holidays we'll have a pet sitter looking after the house.

Since the last post, I've finished reading ca. fifteen books, one of the best of them was Zyta Rudzka's Krótka wymiana ognia. So far only one book by Rudzka has been translated into English, Dr Josef's Little Beauty (I have it as an audiobook and plan to listen to it after our holidays).

June was taken over by builders. Several contractors are working on our little house. The heating system was modernized (we use a heat pump now), the windows and front door were replaced and they are still working on the insulation. Most of the time it's been a nightmare, they have already destroyed parts of our garden, and some eejits cut down the lavender that was growing close to the walls (I complained officially).

Anything else? ... Stay tuned ...

Catching up with the good stuff

This is how you supposed to listen to Virginia Woolf's audiobook — with a cat in your arms ;)

Little Mary ... you can still see that her lower lip is a bit swollen. We're not quite sure what happened, but it's been like this since last Thursday. A few more photographs from the past three weeks:

Rusalka on its premiere night at the Bord Gáis Theatre, coffee time at 3rd Place, evening walk, one of our lazy lunches (fish and chips from a local fishmonger), our girls, and coffee with my former boss (last Thursday; he's a good chap indeed). 

Random snaps

Below, there are some photos from the past few days:
Little Mary and Bron sleeping through Sunday; the book I'm currently reading (Jon Fosse, the photo was taken on Tuesday morning in a coffee shop); our wee village during an evening walk on Wednesday; an absolutely ridiculously huge Thursday pasta; and the last three photos are from today – we went on a date to Dún Dealgan, there was some sushi and some coffee involved, and of course a bit of sky-watching (I spotted some Christmas ornaments!); we also strolled into our favourite local bookshop, because that's what we do :)

Blepping

I didn't know it had a name. It was only today, while comparing two photos, that I noticed: Little Mary is blepping every time she meows. It might be because her muzzle is a bit shorter than Bron's, who has more of ancient Egyptian cats silhouette. And perhaps that's why Little Mary snores. With her rather stocky build and tiger-like gait, she resembles our dear Richard more and more.

Work and beyond

Once again about work: indeed, things just aren't going my way. But somehow, I've already made peace with that. I've decided it's a sign, though I don't believe in signs. A sign of what, you may ask? That I'm still not working to my full potential, and instead on feeling stuck here, I should treat this as a part of a journey. So I will. I'm taking it day by day, like a proper zen queen, but I've got one eye open for new opportunities.

Below, the rest of the week in pictures: on Monday, we discovered a Mexican bistro; on Tuesday, girls on Fred's lap and an evening stroll to the beach in our village; on Wednesday, another new find, an Italian place that suits us both; on Friday, we went to see Mackbeth at the Gaiety Theatre, so there's a glimpse inside the Gaiety, just before the play began, and a late-night view of a Dublin street; on Saturday, after a bit of rain, golden delicious apples glistening in the garden; today, Little Mary with her daddy.

Not set in stone

A lot has happened since the last post. 

The Saturday before last, we went to a concert at the National Concert Hall. It was called Viva Verdi, Viva Wagner; a very nice evening for us both. And this is an unexpected piece of art I created on the way back home, at 22:36 (I think, I was trying to take a photo of the moon hiding in the woods):

On Monday, I became my own boss. I signed a new contract this week (Thursday, to be exact), not very exciting, but it was what was offered, and I took it. Once again in my life, I feel I can change my mind at any time. It's not set in stone, and I like it that way.

Our little ones are bigger and bigger. That same Monday afternoon, we went to the vet for a check-up. Little Mary is 2.5 kg now, and Bron just a bit less, 2.3 kg. Nothing has changed with Little Mary's peeing issue. We'll have to come to terms with it, I suppose.

Then on Wednesday, my husband had his post-CT scan visit with his oncologist. It's always been fine, fine for the past eight years. But this time was a bit different. They've found a tiny nodule in his lungs, too tiny to biopsy or remove in any other way. And that means only one thing: waiting. Fred's doctor was optimistic, he told my husband that the nodule had already been there in the previous scan, back at the beginning of the year, and they've spotted it only now. According to the doctor, it hasn't grown in the last six months. We shouldn't worry. We try not to worry. Waiting is a cruel game.
That day, the sea was quiet.

I came across an old piece about Eileen in the Irish Times. I liked it.

Friday creatures

If someone says it's not worth trying to save a seagull,
'cause it's just a pest, like a rat, or a mouse,
I'd say, I like rats.

*

Below, Bron having a morning kip on my husband's lap; a clever bumblebee dozing beneath an anigozanthos; the young seagull I tried to save, in vain; our latest coffee spot find; sunset at the beach (Fred's legs); Little Mary relaxing after a garden adventure; evening walk at the beach.

Home routine, behold!

Little Mary, this morning: I licked your face, and you smell of fish, so I love you even more.

*

Yesterday marked the anniversary of my first visit to Ireland, eight years ago. When I was thinking about migration (not that I gave it much serious thought, I was happy enough, had a decent job), my destination of choice were Canada (been there in 2011), or Sweden (still waiting on that one), or Germany (as the most logical place to relocate). I'd never have guessed, back in 2015, where I would be ten years later.

We had a Sturgeon Moon last night.
I stayed up late and read about it, but was too deep in my own world to look outside. That's what my husband's absence does to my Brain – I drift from reality. But that's that. It was Fred's last night in town. Today we had a lovely afternoon coffee in Costa, than fed the Dog, cleaned the house, locked the door, and finito. Home routine, behold!

Below, said coffee in Costa in the evening sun.

Pee-stained pages of Norwegian prose

That's what a book looks like after the close encounter with cat piss. I choose to laugh rather than cry. It must've happened sometime around the first week we had our kittens, and it was partly down to my own laziness. For at least a week, maybe two, I refused to check what's going on behind the couch, though I knew that frightened Little Mary had been hiding there the first night. She didn't climb onto the bookshelf, little peanut, but when the girls were playing, some of the books from the pile fell to the floor and were left there, unattended, for a while (a long while, as the books stink like a dead mackerel). I'd decided to help them with vinegar; the one in the photo still stinks, maybe there's no magical cure :(, but I'm trying once again.

Going back to the book itself – I love Vigdis Hjorth, I love her passion. Over a year ago I discovered two brilliant Norwegian writers: her and Jon Fosse (actually, Fosse much earlier, in autumn'23). The latter got the Nobel Prize, which means a lot of his work has been translated into English and my mother tongue. Vigdis is far more obscure. Just yesterday I found myself frustrated that I don't know Norwegian. Only five of her books are available in English, only four books translated into Polish, luckily two of them are different from the ones in English, but still a big part of her work is inaccessible to me. Feck! Only now have I realised that both, Hjorth and Fosse, debuted the same year of 1983. Both their voices are of extreme literary beauty.

I've read Hjorth's Is Mother Dead, A House in Norway, and Will and Testament so far. I got If Only, on paper and as an ebook (the exact one in the photo, smelling of Little Mary's pee), and Long Live the Post Horn! on my e-reader waiting for their turn. As for Fosse, I'm reading his writings in two languages: have read I-II and III-VI of Septology (in Polish, translation of the the last part is coming out soon), A Shining (in Polish Białość), and two in English: Scenes From a Childhood and The Dead Dogs. I don't tend to read just one writer intensely, so it'll take me a fair while to get through more of their work. Still, even thinking about it makes me happy.

Garden turning with the season

Feels like autumn in the air. It's barely quarter to ten, and it's already dark outside. Fred drove to Dún Dealgan to mind the Dog (two nights left, we're almost there). Bron's two bottom baby fangs fell out this morning, and it's clear that she's got two new, tiny teeth ready to grow big and beautiful. I've been wiping Little Mary's nose and right eye every morning and evening, trying to help her with whatever's bothering her. We had our small litter victories today with Little Mary (I swear, I need catternity leave to give Mary the extra reasurance, our special girl).

Below, our garden in the late afternoon.

Just not yet

Yesterday, we had a Polish dinner – proper comfort food: potatoes with fresh dill, fried eggs, and kefir. At my family home, and going back a bit further in my ancestors' time, we’d usually have naturally soured milk, but kefir works just fine. And, of course, we eat with cutlery in the "European" style – fork in the left hand, something I’ve only really noticed recently; it struck me how different (some) Americans are about that.

The girls are growing so fast! (their little faces are in the background). They had the last booster two weeks ago, and we’ve started introducing them to the harness and leash bit by bit. They’re doing well, getting more confident every day.

I’ve been thinking about writing more often, but I already have a Polish blog, kind of a diary of my daily life, so I’d like this one to be a bit more random and back-and-forth, not strictly tied to what’s going on day-to-day. I've been in a strange headspace lately (hasn't that been the general mood all year?), I'd say it's to do with changes in my work life. Everything's shifting, I'm waiting to settle in, but some things are out of my hands. I'll get there, just not yet. And once I do, my writing rhythm will shift as well.

Watching them grow

It’s been a while :) I just didn’t feel like adding anything new for a bit. Not that I’ve been super busy, I’m really trying to avoid that (kind of my natural talent, I guess), but there were more important things going on, like being present with our girls.

I was watching them closely, knowing how shelters are full of viruses. Bron’s eyes were a little weepy for a while, and her nose wasn’t always clean. She sneezed now and then too, but nothing urgent, she was playful and hungry, as always. Looking back, though, I reckon that explains Little Mary’s mysterious illness. Our calico woke up in the middle of Monday with her right eye badly swollen (she was totally fine that morning). They were both due their booster that day anyway, so we had a vet appointment booked, which meant we could check it out straight away.

Turned out Little Mary had a high temperature. The vet gave her antibiotics and eye drops. So now we have sickness in the house. Mary’s not sneezing, and the eye drops seem to be helping. She’s still dribbling and sleeping more than usual, but thankfully she’s eating, though it takes some time and coaxing to get the antibiotics into her. Between naps and meals, she manages to fit in a bit of playtime with her sister. Watching their bond grow is honestly amazing.

Bron used to be the younger and smaller one. Her limbs are getting longer, her eyes bright and clever. She’s full of energy but also really attentive, makes these gas little head tilts when something catches her interest. Little Mary’s growth has slowed a bit with the illness, but I’m sure she’ll catch up (she’s still heavier, but her sleepy little eyes make her seem younger, almost babyish).

During last weekend, I also realised that our girls had been peeing outside the litter box, and it had probably been going on for a while. I’m fairly sure now it’s just Little Mary; I’ve caught her in the act a few times. She’s the anxious one too, so that could be part of it, stress can bring out illness. I’d been cleaning like mad, but now my focus has shifted. I’m being more patient, more caring.

Window watch

Take two

The story goes like that: on Friday I got a call from ***, the woman on the line asked if we’re still interested in a black-and-white kitten. It was fairly clear that the little tuxedo one we'd hoped to adopt on Sunday was already gone, but there were still two kittens left from a litter of three we saw a week ago; she mentioned one of them was a shy little girl. 

After checking in with Fred, I rang them back around half an hour later. No one picked up the phone, so I left a message saying we’re ready to take both kittens, because, clearly, we’re not right in the heads.

 

The next day, once I’d finished work, we shot over to see who was still there and what’s going on. Reality check: there were two black-and-white kittens, but both turned out to be males; in addition, whoever I’d spoken to before had been mistaken – one of the kittens was already booked (again!), and his new family were due later that day. 

Well, we didn't waste time: we’re taking the smaller, quieter fella, since no one wanted him yet (his brother was much darker). But! Just as things were settling in my mind, I spotted another pair of eyes. Tucked away in a cage was this tiny calico kitten, sitting there like she was trying to disappear. She hissed and spat when we came near her, terrified out of her wits.

We had to talk it through again, and to be honest, it was one of the fastest discussions in my life: we came here for two cats, and we’re leaving with two cats. That was that.

Paid €50 for each one, got their health info (both microchipped, both had their first jab), Fred whipped out the carrier, and just like that – off we went. No hanging about.

Now, the kitchen has to stay shut all the time, we’re squeezing in the hall, trying to walk around a drying rack, and we're very happy and proud when we see a poop in the litter box. Healthy, I say, what a smart boy, what a lovely girl. Surely, we've lost our minds.

They are here, our little ones