ndrosen

My relationship with Cynthia has had its ups and downs, and she was miffed with me driving me back to my apartment the day after Thanksgiving, but we have been in communication since, and she told me that she was looking forward to my planned visit on Christmas and the next day. There has been use of heart emojis by both parties. However, she then emailed me that she doesn’t want me as a gentleman friend and future husband (not her exact words), and hopes that we can still be friends.

So be it. I’m glad that we have eaten meals together, that we have chastely cuddled, and that some of her cats have been friendly to me, and let me pet them.

My ladyfriend Cynthia has a total of fourteen cats, some of which I have barely if at all seen, as they’re shy. I will say a few words about some of the cats whose acquaintance I have made. Linus is a black cat, and Chief Operating Officer; he seems to be the boldest and most social of the cats. He is not afraid of new people, and has walked over to me, both during my first visit and my recent visit, and accepted petting.

Abby is a friendly cat who butts with her head, and likes to be petted on her head and elsewhere. Cynthia has told me about how she rescued Abby from a horribly abusive home, abusive to some of the humans there, and to Abby. Abby was only fed a small tidbit if she first begged five times, and was malnourished and ill when Cynthia first adopted her. Cynthia told me that at first it was hard to get her to eat; she didn’t understand that she was allowed to eat. Now she’s sleek, healthy, and friendly.

One thing that impresses me is that Cynthia seems to have socialized a bunch of rescue cats so that they mostly behave themselves and refrain from fighting with each other. It must have taken considerable patience and good will.

Beaker is a longhaired gray and white cat, who occasionally swats the other cats. He has rubbed against my legs, but we haven’t gotten into real petting. He used to be a feral cat, whom Cynthia caught in a humane trap, and adopted. At first, he didn’t get along with the other cats at all, except for one young female, now deceased, who Cynthia thinks may have been his daughter, since tomcats sometimes are paternal to kittens, especially kittens without a living mother.

October 28th was Cynthia’s birthday, which she celebrated by coming to Alexandria, where we got a takeout meal from Namaste Jalsa, and ate it at the Patent Office. Dessert was a pair of my chocolate chip cookies, and then, in addition to giving Cynthia a small bag of more cookies to take home, I gave her her birthday present, a silver and turquoise pin made by an Ashiwi artisan. (The Ashiwi are better known by the exonym Zuni.)

She drove me home, and we hugged at length before I took myself and my impedimenta upstairs. After putting a few things away, I slept, and I’m planning more sleep after a bit more screen time. Cynthia and I have plans for another date, and a second visit to her house in Culpeper, in two weeks. 💕💕💕

On Saturday afternoon, Cynthia picked me up and took me to her house about 80 miles from DC, where I met her more outgoing cats; others remained more or less in hiding while a stranger was present. We talked, we held hands, we walked around the neighborhood, we cuddled, and we discussed the possibility of cooking a dinner, but ended up getting takeout from an Indian restaurant, which was good. There were two samosas (an appetizer which we split), there was plenty of rice, and there was dal tadka and a mushroom-and-green-pea dish, both of which we shared. There was basil naan, which I think we both ate, and another kind of naan with nuts and raisins, of which I ate a piece; the rest went into the freezer for Cynthia to enjoy after her medical procedure Wednesday, as she currently is not supposed to eat nuts.

As we cuddled, she argued with me to abandon my separate bedroom protocol, and called on me to defend it. I said, as I recall, that there are good reasons to avoid sex before marriage, and in consequence, to avoid two people of opposite sex sharing a bed. She assured me that she had excellent self-control, and claimed (as I recall) that Linus, one of her cats, supported her position. I pointed out that Linus was neutered, and did not need to exercise self-control to avoid improper behavior, at which she laughed and laughed. She finally wore me down, and I agreed to share her big bed, although with a sword between us, or at least a blanket or something. After I showered, we did share the bed, remaining on opposite sides of it. Several cats shared it as well, at least at some periods during the night. Early in the night, Cynthia asked whether the light from her phone was bothering me, and I assured her that it was not. For one thing, I said, I had eyelids that could be closed, and for another, I could take afternoon naps under bright light.

In the morning, I made pancakes for two, which we ate with blueberry preserves, we packed a peanut butter sandwich for my lunch, and then Cynthia drove us to the Apple Harvest Festival. We visited various booths, and I bought a gallon of cider; the actual apples for sales didn’t seem all that appealing. Cynthia bought several items, including caramel apples for herself, a wrist-rest for working at a computer, and rough wooden chairs for her cats (for the catio, I think). We went to a shop and restaurant two tenths of a mile from the festival, where we bought a bottle of water (to wash down my peanut butter sandwich), and ice tea (unsweetened) and a piece of cake for her. In due course, we returned to her house.

She commented in my previous entry on my reading; while visiting, I read a short book of hers, Timothy Snyder’s On Tyranny, which I recommend, as the age of Trump and his would-be imitators is not over.

Cynthia told me that she didn’t want to let me go ❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕, but did in due course drive me home. We hope to see more of each other.

My inner pedant notes that in one of her comments on my previous post, Cynthia refers to listening to a piece by J.S. Bach on the radio. Actually, it was a symphony by Johann Christian Bach, who, together with his brother Carl Phillip Emmanuel Bach, departed from the Baroque music of his father, Johann Sebastian Bach, to write classical music similar to that of Haydn and Mozart. That’s what comes of taking Music 15 in college, to balance my physics and math courses.

I had dinner with Cynthia; she showed up, we found a Seven Eleven where she got a cup of coffee, and then walked to Namaste Jalsa to pick up our takeout order, and back to the Patent Office. There was a little drama because the dinner didn’t include plastic utensils, and neither of us had brought silverware, but we checked the doors in three kitchenettes (on the fifth, fourth, and sixth floors), and found a couple or wrapped packets of plastic dinner utensils, so we were able to eat. I had mulligatawny soup, and then a spicy eggplant dish; she had bread and korma. Then I presented the chocolate chip cookies, one for each of us to eat then, and a baggie containing four for her to enjoy later.

She drove me home, and we hugged goodnight.

Cynthia and I had dinner together at Namaste Jalsa again tonight, and conversed at length, as well as holding hands on the walks to and from the restaurant. I tried to order a chickpea dish from the menu, but the waitress suggested something else, not on the menu, but a dish of chickpeas and spinach that they could make, and so I had that. Cynthia paid, and I told her that I would pay next time, which meant that we would have to have another date.

Cynthia and I have been in further communication. We didn’t take a walk together this weekend, but we’re planning to go to a local park on Labor Day. I don’t know where we’re headed, and I don’t know whether we are really suited to each other, but any rate, we can talk.