Yang deftly took ownership of my green jacket in December after I left it on the bed after boot camp early one morning. It’s an actual cat place now, as in “Yang’s been on green jacket since lunch.” (And it’s not even the green jacket. It’s simply green jacket, like Atlanta or Birmingham.)

He likes green jacket to be spread out on the foot of our bed, and he often demands that we escort him there from various parts of the house. He does not object to the laundering of green jacket, although I have to move quickly to get it back in place in a timely manner.

It’s good to be the cat at Casa Shaggerty.

On Sunday, I posted this photo to Facebook, noting that I had owned this book since I was 2 1/2 years old.

It took a friend approximately three minutes to name two of the kittens (Paddy Paws and Toddly) featured in the tale. He also quickly found a link to the series, titled Books for Young Explorers, on LibraryThing.

Looking at the inscription date — December 1974 — and considering the fact that the book was from a branch of the family with whom we did not usually exchange Christmas gifts, I can only reason that this book was offered to me as a consolation prize after my little brother was born.

A kitten would have been more appreciated.

My real question is how I didn’t manage to obtain this entire series. Because a quick look at some of the titles (Amazing Otters, Animals of the High Mountains, Animals that Build their Homes) tells me that this series was written specifically for me and my kind.

It’s made it through a lot of moves and book purges, I think because I love the title so much: Little Tigers in Your Home. I also must admit, however, that flipping through page after page of kitten photos never gets old.

The secondary flowers from large bouquets usually last longer than the main flowers. When broken down into sub-bouquets, they stand on their own as quirky little arrangements.

Yang agrees.

Yep, it’s a tiny bowl filled with tiny pine cones (seriously, they’re each approximately the size of a fingertip).

I felt compelled to pick hundreds and scatter them across the mantel. Instead, I gathered five and left the rest for squirrels to throw at one another (that’s what I like to think squirrels do on their days off).

Fall brings open windows and interesting scents.

Poor Franz. He’s been stuck in 1980s beige and gold ever since I rescued him at an estate sale a few years ago.

One trip to Michael’s and $9 later, he’s looking tres dramatique in black and white.

I wish the weeping willow wasn’t notorious for invading sewer pipes. I would love for my back yard to be covered with this gorgeous canopy.

There will be no setting up a cute stuffed animal/real animal shot with Yang, a light sleeper who dislikes such hijinks.

I finally got around to making poblano souffles again. And it totally worked.

Ground cherries

Unwrapped