Okay, so after this post, I will probably be curling up under the bed or a blanket fort and not coming out for quite a while. Because, autism and having been hurt before means I relish the anonymity the internet provides me — but I’ve also found that other humans relate better to bloggers that they can see. And since I do not actually look like the design layout on my pages (nor, am I, in fact, a moth), here we go…
Above is Toby (my cat), and although I frequently use him as an avatar for myself on social media, no, he and I are not one in the same. I’m using a (cute, of course) photo of him as the icebreaker for this post. Just past him you can see a bit of our front yard. Since this detail does not actually confirm which quadrant of the galaxy I inhabit (another thing I guard the way Smog guards his gold), I’ll let it slip.
But, here is me…
This was back when I used to read in bed because Muffin had not yet dominated quiet cozy bedrooms. (By the way, that’s a copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel I’m reading — because of course this is the most important information to be found in this entire photograph.) Anyway, this was in fact a pose — I was honestly just reading, and my husband came along with the camera and made me pose. He wanted The Moth in her natural habitat, basically. (Not that he was wrong…) And for those of you who are curious, I still have the alarm clock, but this room is now White Fang’s, and therefore looks much, much different these days.
Here I am being daring by revealing a profile shot. (My extreme apologies to your eyes for the horrid wallpaper. It is in the process of coming down and being replaced.) Don’t even ask me what I was doing here, I have no idea. Off to my left, you can see just a tad more of the aforementioned yard.
Here I am with my constant sleeping companion. He and I were inseparable at nighttime for a few years. Lately he waits until I sit down to read after Muffin has finally hit the hay; then Toby makes it impossible for me to move. But I forgive him a little more than any humans who try to interrupt my plans. After all, Toby does understand me better than people do (because, remember, autism).
This is me holding Muffin when he was still in the NICU. He’s approximately 5 days old in this picture. You can see the monitor behind him, that he was consistently hooked up to by several sensors that were stuck to his tiny feet. When we had the chance to hold him outside of the incubator, we had to be careful how we wrapped the blanket so that we wouldn’t accidentally dislodge a sensor and make the monitor flip out.
Here are White Fang, Muffin, myself, and the Furry Angel in the backyard when Muffin was about 16 months. It gives you an idea of what our neighborhood is like, while, again, not fully disclosing our concrete location. (Along with our real names, this will probably remain secret forever.) A version of this picture was used in a post I wrote a while back called “Sometimes We All Just Need To Sit In The Grass.”
And I’ll finish you off with the Polecat on the patio, looking at heaven knows what (but you can better see his lovely tan tummy and his stripes). Bow down to the cuteness.