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a little boy and a cat 2001-11-15 This morning when I woke up I remembered it is my birthday, and almost immediately after that I remembered a little story that Anne Lamott wrote--I believe it was a part of a larger story. I thought she had mentioned it in her book, Bird by Bird, which I have, but I couldn't find it in there this morning, and I looked for a long time. Therefore, I will have to try and paraphrase it for you: There was a little boy who had been looking forward to his birthday for weeks, and on the morning it finally arrived he woke up happy and feeling special, and he got dressed and went downstairs. His parents had apparently been fighting and were upset and distracted, and didn't seem to remember it was his birthday. After hanging around for a little while, not really sure what to do, he went outside and he saw a cat. He went up to the cat, knelt down and petted it for a long time, and then he leaned close to the cat and whispered, "It's my birthday today." If that story doesn't rip your heart a little, you should look deep inside yourself and determine whether you are, in fact, Hannibal Lechter. I know I got some of the story wrong, but the salient points are there, and based upon this story you can see for yourself that Anne Lamott is a fabulous, terrific writer. Next time you're at the library you should look her up. Happy Birthday to me, and Happy Thursday to you (unless it's your birthday today too, in which case Happy Birthday), and I'll write another entry later--one that is more upbeat and does not contain a poignant, sad story for your weeping enjoyment. Love to all,
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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