RedHead Confetti

This is a ramble, a meander, more like a stream of conscious than anything. But I need it today. If you came to my blog for funny, snarky thoughts on random shit, this entry isn't for you. I'm not going to go into everything that's been going on, and contributing to my impetus to write this-- but I know that you'll understand. Thanks for reading! <3 I've had a shit couple of weeks-- close to 6 weeks, if I'm completely frank. I know everyone goes through tough times, so I've tried to keep my head up, my eyes open, and do what I have to do to get through it. You know how it is, it's not easy to put on your "helpful telephone voice" to deal with the same four questions over and over again*, when your stomach is in knots and you haven't had a good night's sleep since May. But, if you're like me, you keep using that perfectly cultured telephone voice, sometimes in person with clients and people around you, and pushing through. I...

We have been fostering kittens since April; this means we take them home, feed them, care for them, socialise them and love them to pieces until they reach the magical weight of two pounds. When they're at two pounds, they can handle the anaesthetic and surgery for sterilisation; much like us, they have to be healthy enough for surgery, and it's my job as a foster parent to help ensure this. The first group was ten kittens; two litters, one of six, and one of four. The six-litter was older, perhaps six weeks old; the four was barely three weeks, and all of them still had blue eyes! One group had been dropped off at the Hermitage, and the other was abandoned at Valley Animal Hospital-- in a tupperware bowl! Imagine our horror, those poor babies, just dropped off like they were rubbish to be left on the side of the road. We worried ourselves sick over the little dudes, as the tiniest ones (their names are Bavard and Finn, now!) were barely fifteen ounces when we got them. Kir...