The diary
Slow stories from a
kitchen full of cats.
I don’t post often. Just when something happens that feels worth telling — a new arrival, a quiet milestone, or one of those evenings where the whole house finally settles down at the same time.
Earlier entries.
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The day Raven arrived
She was so small in the carrier. So small, and so quiet. I sat on the kitchen floor with her for a long time before I even opened the door.
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Why I finally wrote the book
I was never going to write a book. I am very much not a writer. But I kept being asked the same questions, over and over, and one day I sat down.
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Winter bowls, and the cats no one sees
There's a colony three streets over. They don't have names that I know of. But they know the sound of my boots on the gravel.