Author Archives: Miss Kitten

Things I’ve failed to do.

1. Floss. I promised the dentist I would but I only did for about a week after my last checkup. Why did I say I would? Now I’ve lied to a dentist and I feel really awful about it.

2. Get a Driver’s Licence. I did try pretty seriously at one point. Even took driver training classes. But I suck at it. I took the driver’s test three times and I failed it three times. At this point I’ve come to the conclusion that I just wasn’t meant to drive, especially now since my epilepsy diagnosis won’t allow me to drive anyway.

3. Ridden in a Limousine. Probably the only realistic opportunity to do this would have been on Prom Night, but I never went to my high school senior prom because I was a huge dork and most boys wouldn’t talk to me, let alone ask me to the prom.

4. Gotten Married. At my age that’s pretty pathetic. Then again, at my age, I really don’t see the point. My boyfriend and I have been living together for seven years and we’ve already done almost everything that married couples do, like buy furniture together and occasionally have sex.

5. Had Kids. Not from a lack of wanting or trying, though. Well, perhaps from a little lack of trying. I am woman with a functional reproductive system and my boyfriend is also fully functional, but I remain non-knocked up.

6. Go to the Gym. I really hate exercise. I mostly just watch TV in my free time, which currently makes up most of my time in these post laid off from work days. I very occasionally do other stuff, but laziness is my predominating characteristic.

Maple Leaves

Each leaf is drawn and painted freehand. I did two test paintings of leaves before doing this one, which something I rarely do. I tend to paint like I wrote poetry. Most of the time I just get on with it with no plan or preparation. However, this time, I really wanted to understand the maple leaf. It has such a beautiful and unusual shape, and I’ve seen them in all colors, from crimson to yellow green as bright as a traffic light.

Not Yet September


Today I saw
some maple saplings
already turning red and gold.

You are too eager, baby trees.
For it’s not yet September.
Not yet.

Perhaps being so young,
they did not know
it’s still summer,
even though
it is getting colder.

The grown up trees know.
They’re still as green and leafy
as they were a month ago.

Now the autumn chill
seeps through the crack
of the open window,
and penetrates the thin fabric
of my sleeves.

My arms are cold.
Time to take out
the heavier things.

I won’t close the window.
For it’s not yet September.
Not yet.

While we’re on the subject of pens…

Ohhh…I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay. I write with a girly pen all day…

Perhaps, dear readers, you have already heard about Bic’s new “for her” line of ball point pens. They are nice and soft so as not to damage a woman’s delicate hands, and come in appropriately girly colors. Oh bless.

Okay, stop laughing. Take a deep breath and calm down. While this is definitely a “what were they thinking” kind of product, one may perhaps understand where they were coming from by examining some of Bic’s other products. They do produce pink disposable razors “for women” which are purchased most enthusiastically by the fairer sex. So why not market a special pink pen just for women?

Makes sense, right? Well…no. We’re not buying it, both literally and figuratively. However, while these women’s pens are totally stupid and utterly sexist, they have produced a number of hilariously ironic reviews on Amazon. This one is my favorite:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a pen.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a stationers, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their salespeople. However, this has not always been the case for young ladies.

“My dear Mr. Hodgson,” said my lady to me one day, “have you heard that Bic are making writing tools for ladies at last?”

I replied that I had not.

“But they are,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.”

I made no answer. Surely this could not be true, why would a woman have need of such a thing?

“Do not you want to know who will buy them?” cried my wife impatiently.

“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it,” I said.

This was invitation enough.

“Why, my dear, you must know, a well known online retail establishment have been selling these, and it has encouraged young Lizzy to attempt to write down her fanciful ideas . Apparently a young lady from a nearby town has even done so and attempted to write a book!”

“What is her name?” I asked her.

“Austen.”

“Is she married or single?”

“Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A man could never want to marry a young woman who thinks anything she has to say is so interesting it could need to be written down,” said my wife, most accurately.

And so it was that I assured her that there would be nothing to worry about, that women do not need special pens, no matter what Mr. Bic may think, and that nothing would ever come of this young ‘Jane Austen’ girl and her flights of fancy.

The End.

P.S. Lizzy says she is a bit fed up of pink and purple, when do we get some in a nice floral pattern?

Portrait of Lissie the Cat

Here’s a painting I did recently as a birthday present for a very dear friend who just lost her beloved cat. The photo was taken at night so it’s a little dark. I first lightly sketched out the image in pencil and then drew it in pen. Then I shaded and added details to the image and the background, and then I painted it. Over all, it probably took about four hours to do. Looking at it now I wish I done a better job, but my friend absolutely loved it. She almost cried when she saw it, and said it was one of the nicest gifts she’s ever received.

Lissie was the sweetest little kitty, with her beautiful harlequin face and her directional ear.

The Domestic Philosopher

There are many things to wonder about,
Whilst taking all the garbage out.
Like why we throw out so much stuff.
Are we recycling enough?
And what if a truck came everyday,
To take all our past mistakes away?

There are many things to contemplate,
Whilst watching laundry agitate.
Like how detergent really works,
When washing away all that dirt.
And if it’s good at cleaning clothes,
Can it also remove stains on souls?

There are many things that make one think,
Whilst scrubbing out the bathroom sink.
Like whether to get a plumber there,
When the drain is all clogged up with hair.
And can we really ignore our worries away,
If we don’t think about them everyday?

These are the things I think about.
The things I try to figure out.

How come it’s harder to clean up my life,
Than it is to clean my house?

In response to the following news article: “Swerving to Miss Moose, Norwegian Man Slams Into Bear”

For some reason, that headline really speaks to me.

Oh, Miss Moose,
You silly goose.
For when I saw you there,
I swerved to avoid you,
For being hit,
Would have annoyed you.
And would have been unfair.
Sometimes it’s hard,
Being a Norwegian.
When moose are legion.
And nearly everywhere.
But then a brown bear,
Caught me unaware.
So hit it I did,
And it ran and hid.
Looks like irony,
Ran right over me,
When I ran into that bear.