A New Story, The Tale of Molly Kitten, Bits Bobs And How Our Childhood Creates Our Beliefs

Yesterday I worked in the garden a little and planted our Confederate jasmine on the iron trellis my dad welded many years ago. It will be the perfect arch for Zoë Kennedy and Ethan to exchange vows under (they are excited to be married at Zoë Kennedy’s grandparent's home, which I think is quite lovely.) I related to Jeffrey Shawn we must fertilise with vigour the vine so it will stretch accordingly by the time it's wedding bells, for it must be delightfully wonderful and covered in pretty white petals. He thought I'd gone off when I told him I went to Lowe’s to purchase the star jasmine. He quickly reminded me that I should remember he has the authority to purchase everything wholesale and did I forget to sniff my smelling salts. Heh... He then returned to his senses, to which he responded, “Oh, I forget sometimes I am married to a determined redhead and thus stubborn and waits for nothing.” He then kissed my forehead with a little giggle mug upon his face.
On another topic, I've been working up my social skills with the feral kittens that were born in my dad's smithy, and what has occurred is that I had the loveliest idea to write a new little storybook about rejection and abandonment based on these feral kittens. I've often shared on this blog and YouTube about experiences that I have had in life, and understandably, once in childhood, I had two terrible abandonment experiences with a few cats/kittens, which undoubtedly contributed to my belief that everything I love always builds up and then stands to be taken from me. In addition, because of the incidents, I swore off cats my whole life. These upsetting times are why and where we develop disconcerting beliefs in life. Many moons ago, I was determined to innocently manifest a feral cat for the mice issue we were having in the chicken coop; little did I realise I would actually grow sentimental affection for the two kittens born in my dad's smithy. In fact, I didn't know kittens were born in my dad's forge until he made mention one day, whilst sitting on the porch rocking chair upon declaring, “those are the same kittens that were born in my forge.”

May you become aware that when something mortifying transpires, we build up our guard to that experience; not realising the occurrence that took place sets us on a path of imprinting beliefs, whether that be good or bad. It was never about a feline per se; it, in addition to other scenarios, is what placed me on a course of the “feeling” which became a belief. The back story is that I lost my first childhood cat and her kittens. And to keep this post from becoming unsettling, I will simply not say the actual horror of what indeed happened. We, as women and ladies, build resistance and barriers to prevent (or think we're preventing) from ever having to reencounter such distress. It's perfectly comprehendible to acknowledge this is from which our beliefs present themselves. So as to not be hurt again in such a profoundly horrid manner is hence why I rejected kittens and cats from then on forward. In my past, I would echo, I like cats as long as they are someone else's, or clarify I am a dog person. I will say I think today I am generally an animal-loving person, and I like both cats and dogs. My heart's truest nature is I quite fancy and adore all animals, respectively.

Last week I came into my folk's cottage from gardening, and my mum called me Ellie May from the Beverly Hillbillies. I said why is that? (I don't recall watching that television program, in all honesty, I never watched much television, well, with the exception of Little House on the Prairie.) She said because one minute you've made friends with the feral cats, the next minute your toting chickens around and then walking bunny rabbits and dogs on leashes. That was a compliment.

As a little girl, before I wanted to be an author and artist, I wanted to be a veterinarian; I pruned short the desire upon the realisation I would have to euthanise pets and decided that was entirely too emotional for a sensitive little ginger-haired Pisces heart such as mine. I feel very attuned to my higher spirit when animals surround me. And so, might you see that when I write my children's storybooks (written for the young and olde), I make sense of and heal my soul through the books? I am convinced that my books will reach the hearts of children and adults alike. Human folks are much more similar than they are different. I have the mind to reveal I do believe quite a number of folks have incidents when rejection, abandonment and feelings of loss are concerned.

The book is called The Tale of Molly Kitten. Upon petitioning my spirit guide, Beatrix Potter, to conjure up a book title, I was busily watering the garden and instantly felt her telepathically say, look up the nickname of a female kitten. I followed suit and uncovered the female nickname of a kitten is called a Molly! I was unaware, were you? Also, as you may know, I am constantly flattering and on the take with Beatrix’s book titles. Whereas my book is nothing like her book The Tale of Tom Kitten, with regards to a set of naughty kittens bent on destructive disobedience, it is similar as it is written delightfully cheering and of sound English dignification. 
The first page I will share with you: 
The Tale of Molly Kitten

[Once upon a time, there were three little kittens, and their names were Smoky, Molly Mipsy, and Twister.

They had dear little fine coats of fur, deemed village kittens, for they were all born in Mr Lane's smithy and thereafter abandoned with no mother to call their own.]
The one kitten I named Molly Mipsy (has become quite the endearing character whom sleeps outdoors on our rocking chair, purs, and follows me at all times) and the other kittens I named Twister and Smoky. Twister (which may be a boy name to most, yet, she is a girl kitten); however, I make no bones about giving her that name, for she has earned it. She reminded me of a twister in the way she bolts all over with skittish movement and, on one occasion, even hissed at me. She is a bit more spirited, but I like spirited. These kittens have been another way of healing a particular wound I had around abandonment and cats, so, therefore, that is why I am writing another charming little spiritually-laced children's book. To write and create books is so healing for me, and I do believe in my heart of hearts; they will heal millions around this big blue marble. I have had to believe in myself even when no one else has. Do you understand, my dear friends? We, as landlocked mermaids, must be the awe-inspiring heroes for ourselves, and then the world will learn of it.

I do believe it is time for me to fly, and rest assured, we shall have another proper conversation soon. 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady raquelxxx


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