She had known, really, that somewhere there had to be such a house. A house that smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and fresh-baked bread. A house with embroidered cushions tied to each carved pine chair and a canary as yellow as butter that sang and sang and sang. She had known too that such a house would have a cat with whiskers like cello strings which jumped on to your knee the moment you sat down... ~ Eva Ibbotson
3 comments:
I don't have the butter yellow cushions (can't hide cat hair) but I do have 2 cats with cello whiskers.
I would like to live there!
Its' from her book of short stories "A Glove Shop In Vienna."
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