Saw this idea, I’ll get his name later, and am going to try it. Drag you along with me, of course!
A handful of soil and a slurp of water since the soil was quite dry. Wack the lid on and watch what happens. Did that a few hours ago.
Now, at 3.45 pm, telling me there’s life in there exploring its new boundaries.
The tiniest of worms/nematode? Makes me wonder did I add too much water?
Can even see its gut with food in it?
About five years ago, I reworked what would’ve been the next couple of chapters to submit to Worldbuilding Magazine, for an installment they were running on relationships, V3I3: Gender & Relationships
Since I was extracting the story from an ongoing Lodestar Saga and wanted eventually to be able to come back to it—as I am doing now—I changed Srese’s name and backstory. But, although she is called Kate in this chapter and has a whole different history, she is still Srese. As you will see.
Scrim’s parts in the whole deal have not changed, and that part of his life–as it is described here–fits in well with what’s coming for him.
Enjoy!
We have a new thing in the garden. Ha ha, bet I tricked you there. It’s irony, of course. Of course you didn’t know cats do irony. I assure you I have no difficulty woth it.
Any way, the new thing. The boy brought it. I think he’s trying to soften me up.
After the man and the boy and the prancing foal-child left, the old woman brought the new thing inside. Set it on a dessert plate and on the home-made kindergarten chair.
Within easy reach, she said.
An invitation I could not resist.
I’m laying here impatiently waiting for the next thing.
These are the cross roads, you understand? The place where I’ll be ready for anything. A couple of cat-lengths southwards of my tail the old woman is having her breakfast.
Behind my back is the kitchen where food is stored. In front is the primary space for playing and hunting. Northward is my den, where I have my water well, my bed and my wood for scratching.
Sniff. Sniff. Oh, I’ll just take another turn through the woodland. I believe I may have missed a cache or two of kibbles. The old woman keeps finding new places.
Kibbles both inside and on the top? I made short work of them!
Then it’s time for her to clean the den.
I’m looking forward to an uninterrupted day. Both Friday and Saturday we had far too many visitors for my comfort. I spent most of Friday under the couch, and a good half of Saturday under the big bed.
Big try out this … it’s a bit rough, but at least we’re back in the game … forgot the title I see. It’s part 16 … OK, no I see it in the header. And sorry, forgot to take my notes for the template from the end. I said it’s rough.
Bag 1 is done.
After balcony gardening for an hour this afternoon, playing with Moggy in between ten or twenty moves, thought I’d start on my Lego new project.
It’s my first set aimed at adult fans and promises to show me some new building techniques among other good things.
Now to try and fit it into Bosley & Co’s world. I bet there’ll be some disbelief, and even resistance. Because this thing looks bigger than any place they have up to this point.
Still, who could resist a …?
Now that I’ve proven that I know how to play, the old woman is constantly thinking up new games. My favorite one so far is hunting kibbles.
Round about her lunchtime she’ll wander around with a small handful of kibbles and drops them tinkling into the various little plates and bowls she has hidden around the unit.
I know she means me to listen for the sound of them hitting the china but why would I? I just watch her bending over here and there to pour them from only a little height.
Then … this afternoon … she totally tricked me! We had a parcel delivery this morning that came in a cardboard box. After unpacking it, she set it in the living room.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Find out what’s in it. You should be able to smell them.”
First I just walked past it. It smelled new. Cardboardy. After her lunch I walked past it again. Hmph, still new and cardboardy.
By mid afternoon I’d worked it out though I continued lying around. A box with flappy bits—like that—seems like they’ll jump up and get me if I try to jump in between them.
The old woman weakened and lay the box on its side. That’s when I made my move …
Rita de Heer 