Rain was in the forecast (and then part II)

and I shared the news with Mr Puffy Pants.

It did not go over well.

He had an emotional fainting once here

and later here.
I told him that I had nothing to do with it, and that sometimes water had to pour down from the skies.

Now, we go to Part II, which is going to be titled

"What happens between 5 and 7 a.m. on a rainy day"

or, alternatively,

"Sometimes my little wishes come true!"

One of my little wishes is to simply be able to sit on these stairs in a space that is not strangled with demands. On this rainy morning after the cat boys spent a good hour outside that little wish came true because it started to rain and good boys that Ollie and Gussy are, they did not want to get their furs too wet. So, in they came and that is how my wish came true.

I quickly made a cup of tea, ran up the stairs, said a small prayer because I wanted to create that space, sat down on the stairs, and started looking out my hourglass life with my companions about. Of course the big companion was upstairs sleeping.
Mr Sweet Pants made a spot for himself above my head, still not too pleased that he had to be indoors.
And Mr Puffy Pants was playing the game of running up and down, to him every moment is a moment reserved for games.
He decided to investigate the narrow space between the rug and the comforter on the floor.
Does anyone know what that big lump is?
Peek-a-boo! I wonder who that is under the covers...
Two paws?? I wonder whose they are!!!
Mr Sweet Pants wondered about his brother.
Now Mr Sweet Pants is drinking tea.
And now he is absorbed into another world, another wave of rain, the rapid drip drip of the October sky that was oh so blue yesterday had him mesmerized.
Rain
Rain
Rain
He is too precious for words, his little tongue sticks out when he tries to think very hard.
Mr Puffy Pants finds his own corner and
reflects quietly
as I read to him....

O YE PEOPLE THAT HAVE MINDS TO KNOW AND EARS TO HEAR!

The first call of the Beloved is this: O mystic nightingale! Abide not but in the rose-garden of the spirit. O messenger of the Solomon of love! Seek thou no shelter except in the Sheba of the well-beloved, and O immortal phoenix! dwell not save on the mount of faithfulness. Therein is thy habitation, if on the wings of thy soul thou soarest to the realm of the infinite and seekest to attain thy goal.

Later he will recite this to Mr Sweet Pants.

Cat boys send you faithful kisses and lovely wishes...

Ciao!