I ventured out again to the shops on Monday afternoon, hoping to get a bit more of my Christmas shopping done. I managed to get a few items knocked off the list. I also managed to scoot into one of our Goodwills for a peek around. If my selective memory serves me well, I actually hadn't been there for close to three weeks and was just beginning to experience the first pangs of withdrawal.
I found another cast-iron match holder. That makes 3 and moving forward I will now refer you to my 'collection' of match holders, lol. I haven't hung it up yet.
Here's the rest of the collection:
This handmade turtle from Ecuador is part onyx and soapstone.
I like the detailing on the turtle.
I spent a long time looking over the cookbooks, hoping to spot a unique one and also the children's books, keeping an eye out for any illustrated by Peter Parnall - nothing.
My time was not wasted however, as I came across this darling book which contains correspondence between 6 feline couples in love. I would like to report that these are all love stories, but apparently the course of true love is not always a smooth path ... even when you are head-over-tails.
A sample correspondence:
Miss Tonya Gabbeldoff to Mr. Peaches L. Keen:
Dear Mr Peach,
I have something ridiculous to tell you. I should have told you this evening when I saw you chasing moths across the lawn, but I held my tongue and am now foolishly writing instead. You will say to yourself, "Here is another poor cat in heat trying to throw herself at me." You will hiss in my face, you will chase me from your garden. You will say, "Here is a stupid creature, barely more than a kitten, and she is carried away by the spring weather." I am in love with you. I have been since the first day you moved into the house next door. I thought maybe we could become friends. But that special feeling in my whiskers - do tomcats get it, also? - has let me know that friendship is not enough. Now, whether lying by my kitty dish and contemplating my milk, or sitting in the window and watching butterflies, you are all I think of.
For now, I'm content to worship you from afar. Foolishly, deliriously, with both ears quivering.
Yours most sincerely,
Mr. Peaches L. Keen to Miss Tonya Gabbeldoff:
My dearest Tonya,
Do you think I hadn't noticed? You must think me a callous and worldly cat. Oh, what a sweet and ingenuous kitten you are! I may not have felt it in my whiskers (no, tom-cats are different in many ways, as I hope to teach you), but couldn't you sense my friskiness, barely contained, as I played in the front yard tonight? I saw you first among the geraniums this afternoon and thought: "Will she come over? Or will she chase bugs by herself?" Yes, yes - my tail can barely contain itself. Meet me by the birdbath at midnight.
Yours - all yours,