Visiting the kitten, poetry and a beautiful memoir

Juxtaposing completely unrelated things, as I am wont to do here on occasion: 

|  Branwell is growing so fast, or at least it seems like that to me, as I only see him every two weeks or so. He is at the stage where the shape of his head is trying to keep up with the growth of his features, and he has the cutest long nose. He is more like a dog in character, following you around in outbursts of enthusiasm, not afraid of water and generally a loyal, attention-seeking companion.

|  The third Skylight 47 issue is out, and I am delighted to have one of my paintings in it. If you like poetry (I certainly do), you will love Skylight 47.

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I am also reading Staring at Lakes by the Irish Times columnist Michael Harding, which ended up being kindly lent to me via serendipitous circumstances. This is a memoir filled with beautifully rendered insights into depression and anxiety, middle age, love, Ireland and the human spirit, told with warmth and often self-deprecating humour. I am neither male nor middle-aged, but it feels so right to be reading this at the moment (and it is another example of Gretchen Rubin's observation that we often learn more from "one person's highly idiosyncratic experiences" than from more general, universally applicable offerings, even if we have little in common on the outside.)