5 posts tagged “sylvester”
... to be a better housekeeper!
I have no excuse whatsoever. I have been off work all week, and yet just LOOK at the size of the dustbunnies I've let accumulate in my dryer's lint trap:
Oh, wait - that's NOT a dustbunny. It's a dustkitty!
I sure manage to amuse myself taking pictures of my pets in my appliances, don't I? Sometimes I complain about the fact that my house is so small that my laundry facility and my kitchen are one and the same. It leads to the kitchen table becoming my laundry-sorting place. And then, because laundry is BORING, I stop halfway through and have to move the piles of clothes to the living room come dinnertime. Of course, they then sit on the couch for a day or two ...
But anyway, if I had a basement or a laundry room, I wouldn't be opening and closer the dryer in the "Grand Central Station" area of my house. I'd have many fewer incidents of curious critters wanting to check out the warm noisy thing in the kitchen. And curious critters are so darn cute!
Really, though, I do need to be a better housekeeper. But you know what? I think I'll make trying to write more my New Year's resolution instead. Resolutions should be attainable, after all!
Happy New Year, my friends! We'll be bringing in 2009 at the pub with the family and some friends. Right now, the wind is howling so much outside that if my family didn't have a pub right up the road, I'd probably opt for a movie and snuggle night for New Years. It really looks icky out there. And Lee is out erranding, and just called to tell me he was driving up the road and a flying trashcan plowed into the van. It didn't do any damage or anything - it was a light plastic one. But still, how Wizard of Oz is that?
Appropriate for the New Year, I guess. Because there is no place like home!
You know that wonderful feeling of taking warm blankets out of the dryer on a cool fall morning and feeling how soft and cozy they feel on your skin?
Well, it seems Sly must like it too. He watched me do just that, padded around on the freshly dried blanket, and before I knew it, decided that a spin in the dryer might be a good thing for HIM!
Next time someone says "take me for a spin," don't assume they mean in your car!
I've spent a lot of time goofing around with the camera recently. So since I've been somewhat sporadic with my MAMM posts lately, I figured I'd make up for it somewhat with a twofer this week.
First, here's "Me and My (Mongo-Huge) Marigolds.
I've never seen marigolds grow so tall and big before. My neighbor Caroline gave us the seeds earlier this summer, and we planted them around our flagpole. The big yellow ones have completely overtaken the smaller, more traditional orange-red ones. I'm sitting on the grass here, and they're taller than my head.
Next, "My and My Sly"
They say cats want things on their own terms. Sly proves it here. Give him a kiss and he's all like "why are you buggin' me?"
But when HE wants a snuggle, there's no stopping him. No matter what:
Reading a book? Too bad. The book is now a kitty launch pad.
And last but not least, I don't know which of us is more easily amused, me or Sly. When I was outside taking the marigold photos, he was watching intently in the kitchen window. I went over to see him, and we had some quality time head-butting each other through the window:
I like the way this one turned out because the reflections in the window let you know it's there, but yet it really doesn't look like there's a pane of glass between my head and Sly's.
Happy Monday!
OK, people, I know the girl-person in my household is having a tough time at work, and wrote about it here.
And yes, I know I can't relate to the work woes of the two-leggers who go and make-da-money. I'm a cat. My days are spent spinning around the house like a whirling dervish in search of the bestest dustbunny, or snoozing in the window during the time of day that the sun hits it just right. The hardest part of my day is figuring out just the right tone of "meow" to tell the peeps that I don't want that can of chicken cat food, I want the tuna and salmon one instead.
So no, when the girl-human comes home all frazzled and stressed and talking about people making crazy decisions and too much bad data and meeting overload and wondering how they expect her to do ALL this, I just don't get it. Alarm clocks and business buzzwords mean nuttin' to me.
But still, I think she's got SOME NERVE. She writes a post all whining about work being so hard it makes her cry sometimes. Meanwhile, I'm stuffed in a tiny box they call a carrier and taken to this place called a vet, where there are lots of other scared kitties and it smells like medicine. They give me shots and poke things up my butt and then they knock me out cold and when I wake up, my balls are gone! Or not gone, exactly ... just sort of different.
I'm sorry, but you can't tell me that too many meetings and dumbassery at work even compares to waking up in a strange place without your balls. I'm the one who had the bad day yesterday!
I'm still just as cute as I was in this picture taken before this little incident, by the way. I am King of the Cute. But seriously, something feels ... missing ...
People have no clue what a bad day means. Now where's my comfy window?
Last night, I dropped the cap to my bottle of iced tea and before I could pick it up, Sylvester pounced it. He found this thing more entertaining than any cat toy we've ever gotten him. Guess I figured out one more way to cut corners with the rising costs of groceries and gas, huh?
Anyway, he was having so much fun whapping this thing around the house that I let him keep it. But later, when Lee had gone to bed and I was still reading, I realized he'd gotten pretty darn loud with it - scooting it across the floor and clanging it into walls. Lee's a light sleeper, so the next time Sly got near me with his bottle-cap toy I swooped it up and put it in the pocket of my jammies. Yeah, I know, how lazy can you get? But I was in the middle of a really good chapter.
Anyway, I forgot all about it and went to bed. And then, I kept "dreaming" all night that something was poking me in the hip. I pulled a muscle a while back that still aggravates me now and then, so I just assumed it was acting up again. I woke up this morning with a little round bruise on my hip, and a bottle cap in my pocket.
Why yes, I AM a dumbass.
It was a miserably hot day here today, so I found all sorts of indoor chores to avoid going out in the heat, even though the fridge is empty and was practically crying for me to take a trip to the grocery store. Lee was braver and did a boatload of yard work.
And now, I'm freshly showered and contemplating making a pot of coffee. The boys in my house are all snoozing. Vin is curled in his hammock, Lee is crashed out in bed for a nap after a swamp-ass hot day of yardwork
The Vinster's under his blankie, and you can't see much more than a covered lump. No real photo op there. I'd take a picture of Lee, but he'd get me back. No one likes to have their picture taken when they're sleeping. He did that to me once, when I was in one of those deep, dreamy sleeps that just might involve drooling a little. I'm a little gunshy with the camera after that, knowing that revenge is sweet
But Sylvester, on the other hand, is fair game:
He's crashed out on a tiger blanket in our old recliner. I guess he's showing the Big Cats who the real king of this jungle is, huh?
Heading out to the pub a bit later (its one of those days where I won't brave the swamp-ass weather in the daytime, but will venture out at night - I sometimes feel like a vampire in the summer) to hang out with my mom and perhaps my friend Sully. Tomorrow we plan to tackle the grocery store (or so we say anyway) and then hit the pool, which is the only place I AM guaranteed to go when the Swampass Season arrives.
Wouldn't it be awesome to just be a cat, snoozing away the hottest days in air conditioning and nary an errand to run, and finding yourself amazed for hours by a bottle cap?
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