I feel most like myself in the early morning – as if maybe there is one more chance for a dud. It may or may not be a true intuitive feeling, but so far, I keep giving it a chance. I guess hope and dawn feel good.

I think that paragraph was an aside, before there were any remarks to be an aside to. Which perhaps requires its own definition, but, heck, I just typed “I bought a free (Kindle) book” and that is an iffy sort of transaction. I’m going to let it go.

I ordered a cat story book; I do not like cats. My mother left me with a cat and my daughter-in-law and granddaughter are caring for her. My son too. As for the two of us – that cat and I – we tolerate each other and I wonder what in heck brought my mother to take to cats after decades of being a dog person.

I think it may have been a wish to have a companion; I think it may have had something to do with the fact the first cat showed up on Christmas Eve after my aunt had died; I think a series of books about cat detectives slowly brainwashed her. As my father used to say in reference to one cat, “Yo-Yo and Co-Co saved that cat.”

So, anyway, I was drifting along the titles of free Kindle books and came upon on that actually had the word cat in the title. I thought of Mother and went on down the list. Then I came back and read the synopsis; I wasn’t impressed, but the note on the author caught my attention:

Anne L. Watson is a retired historic preservation architecture consultant and now pursues a variety of interests, including photography, soapmaking, and baking with cookie molds. “Skeeter,” her first book, has been followed by several others, including the literary novel “Pacific Avenue.” A former resident of San Pedro, California — the setting of “Skeeter” — Anne currently lives in Friday Harbor, Washington, with her husband and fellow author, Aaron Shepard, and one formerly-stray cat.

i think the primary hook for me was soapmaking, although I’m pleased with the historic preservation part. My mother liked old buildings and once she made home-made ketchup, maybe because she thought my dad would appreciate its taste. It wasn’t bad, but some did blow up. KABOOM. (I have such learned some people stick problematic canned acidic foodstuff in sand. Now that is an aside.)

It is on my Kindle now. This one’s for you, Mother. Just don’t expect me to go hugging a cat.