Yes, it’s cat-day again, I just cannot help it, look at this face.
He’s only big, but not fat, that’s his fur all over that makes him look small-headed, and the perspective. He’s large, that’s true.
Still, he’s a cat master of yoga and stretching, no doubts:
Billy loves that we’re home (as we mostly work from home), and looks so distressed and relaxed and comfy that I really want to take classes from him. Master Billy.
He’s like pure, relaxed, fluffy happiness.
Though I’m happy too, even with my little existential issues. Especially after having laughed till tears for like half an hour with my mom on the phone. That’s one of the best things, understanding each other’s humor and being able to laugh together on life.
Our black cat, Sort, is really the one who’d rather be Master Yoda, as he just knows when to come and when to disappear. When to comfort, when to heal, when to enjoy, and when to escape. A real wise cat. But that’s another story and another postcard.
16 days of Catalan in a row are done. We’re really dedicated and it feels good not to fail. Actually, even with my shitty pronunciation, it feels good. And one day, I know, all will just begin to make sense and it will sound lovely and correct, just like learning to drive and learning to use the mirrors. When it clicks, it’s done.