So, here I am, working on a scene in chapter three, all curled up on the couch under a throw blanket (I won’t turn on the heater until after the temperatures stops bouncing up and down by 30 or 40 degrees).  And who decides to come and “help”?  Why my once feral cat.

She refuses to lay on my lap until it’s cold enough to have that blanket on my lap.  Then she’s all lovie dovie.  Before then she’s difficult to hold (she’s all legs) and wants out constantly.  Now I’m all twisted with my laptop to the side and trying to write.  She doesn’t care one whit about it.

oh well…  I guess I’ll be doing that home version of yoga (and you cat owners understand exactly what I’m talking about!)


Author: sondrabateman

Hello, I'm Sondra Bateman and am currently working on a historical fiction novel set during the middle ages in Scotland.

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