wooden fence, folktale, snow!
wooden fence: a favorite memory
I have quite a few, but the thing that pops up in my mind right now is the time I made friends with Monty. I met him in October 2009 and he took until Christmas to open up to me, he was such a timid boy. I stayed over with sig. other’s family during the Christmas holidays - I had a bed upstairs, and the first night I was there, Monty decided to come into my room and sit with me for some time. Because it was quiet and calm (unlike most of the times I’d been at sig. other’s house), he probably decided at that moment that I was safe and valid after all. 😂😂😂 He nuzzled against me a bit, purred and kneaded the covers, then eventually fell asleep with his head against my wrist. He was very soft and warm.
he’s still going strong. hes baby
folktale: what stories remind you of your childhood?
I can’t think of a story that reminds me of my childhood, particularly... I sure remember lots of books that take me back, but these are just books I read during my childhood. They don’t necessarily remind me of my childhood.
Perhaps this is because I didn’t grow up with a lot of the signifiers of childhood people my age share. I never read Terry Pratchett as a child, for one, nor Tintin (not translated into Korean when I was young), Roald Dahl (same), or the usual children’s classics. I didn’t really identify with fairytales or folktales either (Western or Eastern), until I grew up and found out they were a lot grislier than they usually tell you they are. The books I read as a child were usually encyclopedic, classics I wouldn’t understand for a very long time, or the average school media everyone had to read. Things would have been different if I’d been raised in a Western society, I think.
I tell you what, though. Talking about cats up there and childhood books just reminded me I was extremely scared of black cats as a kid. (This was before I ever got to meet a real cat. Cats were 100% conceptual beings to me until I was seven.) This is because I’d had a collection of short stories from all around the world, the ending piece of which was The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe. Looking back on it, I had no business reading that at five years old. My copy ended with a full-page illustration of a dead bloodstained woman immured in a wall, a one-eyed black cat standing on her shoulder, yowling straight at the viewer. I was so terrified that I had nightmares the first time I saw it, and then I literally got my dad to staple the end pages shut for me so I didn’t have to see that illustration ever again. But I still remember it to this day, it was that traumatic. And after that, for a few short years, I was terrified of cats and being immured. That is my childhood horror story.
I love black cats now. My sweet sweet Mimikins :”)
snow: what is your favorite time of year and why?
Autumn. About now is a very good time. All the harvest starts ripening and the days become cool enough for me to walk around at any point. There is just enough rain to keep it fresh. I love it so much.
