Welcome, Verusha!

From the time I was a very young child, I grew up with cats.  My family’s first – Blacky, a neighborhood stray – adopted us when I was in first grade, and we ended up letting him in the house mostly as a hunter to clear out mice.  Others followed after that (though most remained outside, where we fed them on our porch and let them sleep in a box we kept for them there), and over time we also had, Midnight, Caramel, and Cinnamon Sugar and her kittens, Applesauce, Butterscotch, Vanilla, and Licorice. (She became pregnant so soon after she came to us, we didn’t have a chance to get her fixed first.)  All of them were wonderful, and even beyond our own pets, I loved cats generally.

In the end, however, they all either adopted new families or aged and died.  And some time after that… I found myself allergic.


It was exceptionally interesting, then, the day I first found reference to hypoallergenic cat breeds.  Now, I understand they don’t necessarily work for everyone, but the idea of possibly being able to have a cat without constantly suffering allergies or taking medicine was too tempting to ignore.

Long story short, after much research, consideration, and waiting, my husband and I now have a kitten of our own!

She is a Russian White, so my husband and I decided it would be appropriate to look for a Russian name.  We decided on the name Verusha, which is the diminutive of the Russian “Vera,” which means “faith,” though it is also sometimes associated with the Latin for “truth.”  We loved both the sound and the meaning, and after all, what more can you ask for in a name?
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A Meeting Between

A Daughter of the Lilies and Children of Eldair

Crossover Fan-fiction

Thistle, Brent, Lyra, and Orrig belong to Meg Syverud of Daughter of the Lilies.
Embera, Koe, Iva, and Indri belong to Jemma M. Young of Children of Eldair.
The Bazaar Between and the Unnamed Bookshop Owner are stage dressing that went out of their way to unduly lengthen the story by trying really, really hard to become characters in their own right.  (Jury’s still out on whether they succeeded.  But waiting for a consensus would’ve lengthened the story even more.)

In a world that’s not a world,
There’s a space that’s not a space,
Where the meetings that could never be
Just happen to take place,
When the farthest-flung of fiction
Find they’ve stumbled on the scene
Of the twining, colored crossways
That form the Bazaar Between.

Along a bustling row of crowded booths and shops, four figures thread a throng ranging from the familiar to the utterly foreign.  Indeed, though displays of brilliantly colored, exotic wares line each side of the thoroughfare, they can hardly contend with the true riot of color that swirls down the street in the forms of dresses, robes, scarves, scales, skin, fur, hair, and wings. Continue reading