kittens in my mouth.

Sarah keeps moving her babies. They are 2 weeks old, little meow-y furballs. We had them and their mama in the laundry room, but if we left the door open, she'd sneak through the house with a kitten in her mouth and take them to Doug's closet.

I don't know why the laundry room wasn't good enough. Too busy? Too hot? Too loud? Just not what she had in mind? Sarah herself may not even know why she's so determined to move the kittens, but she definitely is determined.

So now she and her babies are under a table in my scraproom (I'm trying to think of it as my *studio*). The TV's on, kids in and out, sewing machine, crawling baby, etc. But she seems so satisfied and of course her kitties don't care.

Watching her moving those kittens over and over made me think of myself. I know I don't want to live right here. But where to go? I am not really sure, but I do want to move. So I'm kind of like Sarah, sneaking around with kittens in my mouth, knowing I want out of this particular place, but not really knowing where to go.


Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Colossians 3:15