First things first: Nance and I have launched a new cooking site! Actually Nance (and Rick and Alex) did most of the creative website-creating stuff – I just did a couple of posts.
Nance and I are planning to do a tandem (?) recipe each week where we both make the same recipe and post about it. We’ll also each do our own posts. Go check it out!
Also, please note: if you have questions about the recipes on that site, please ask them over there, would you? I promise one or the other (or both) of us will get back to you!
I spent my weekend in my pajamas (or rather, sleep pants and a hoodie and no bra). It was gray and rainy and dismal outside both days, and if that’s not the kind of weather when you can slob around in your jammies, I don’t know what is.
I didn’t do any of the stuff I wanted to get done on the weekend, but that’s okay. Weekends are for being slobby slackers. Aren’t they?
I feel like the sun hasn’t shone in like 45 years, and that it’s not going to shine for another 45, and excuse me Mother Nature I HAVE THREE VERY BLACK CATS THAT I NEED TO GET EXCELLENT PICTURES OF AND IT’S HARD TO DO WHEN THERE’S NO SUNSHINE.
Mother Nature is a whore. That’s right, I SAID IT.
Maybe today I’ll get the garage cleaned out and the recycling taken to the recycling center. Maybe I’ll carry my cedar trunk out to the garage and sand it down so that I can polyurethane it. Maybe I’ll vacuum and dust and clean the bathrooms.
Or maybe I’ll just snuggle up on the couch under a blanket of cats and watch TV. That seems more likely to happen, don’t you think?
Friday afternoon, I was covering for the regular Friday evening cleaner at Petsmart. She’d posted and asked if someone could cover for her, and because I hadn’t had a chance to have a proper visit with Patty and Charlie Peppers when I dropped off the Sons and brought the black Peppers home, I offered to cover for her. This way, I was able to check on my boys and also give Charlie and Patty some snuggles in the course of cleaning and scooping and refilling food and water bowls.
When I walked by the cages, the Sons were all flopped out, sound asleep in their cage. Charlie and Patty were doing the same in their cage. I spent a good hour and a half there, cleaning and snuggling with cats (my fosters as well as the others), and while Patty was a bit nervous, she let me pick her up and cuddle her. Charlie was more interested in chasing the kittens around and playing with them, but he let me pick him up and pet him several times.
Saturday afternoon, I was laying on my bed reading when Fred came upstairs with my cell phone. He’d heard it ring and answered it, and knew I’d want to talk to the person calling.
It was the shelter manager who was calling to me that Charlie and Patty? Adopted.
I think y’all know how very very glad I am that these two will be together. I mean, remember this? Remember how protective Charlie was when they first came here?
And how Patty would follow him around and kick his butt (and he’d let her)?
And how generally most of the time they were at least in the same room, if not right next to each other?
Oh, I am so so so happy that they get to be together. SO HAPPY!
And so glad that I got to see them one last time before they were adopted!
Bye, my sweet Charlie and Patty Peppers. Have a good life, and Patty – don’t kick his butt TOO often. It’s not good for his self esteem. Let him win every now and then, okay?
The Sons, as I mentioned, were sound asleep when I showed up at Petsmart on Friday. They lined up at the door to their cage and peeped at me ’til I let them out, and then they ran around like little demons.
I had intended to take the camera with me, but forgot OF COURSE. I’m covering again this Friday evening, so perhaps this time I’ll remember.
None of the Sons were adopted over the weekend, but they’re so unbearably adorable that I have faith it’ll be soon enough. After all, Charlie and Patty were there for just over two weeks. That’s not as fast as I’d like (I’d like ALL cats to be adopted immediately, but of course that’s not realistic), but I can live with it.
It’s funny how worried I was about Everett, Sally, and Lucy. I brought them home Thursday night, and they were acting freaky. Friday morning when I opened the door to go in and scoop their litter box and say good morning to them, they met me at the door and twined around their feet. All three of them – but especially Everett – do this thing where they walk around with their tails sideways, like they’re rubbing their back ends up against something, even when they aren’t. I’ll try to get a picture (or video) of it.
They are such gorgeous cats, all three of them, sleek and silky and friendly. We let them out of the foster room Friday evening, and it went so well that we let them have all day out on Saturday. For the time being I’m still planning on putting them in the room at bedtime – which they don’t seem to have a problem with, as soon as I go into the room and call them, they come right in and gather around for some petting.
Saturday, we got out the feather teaser and were reminded why it is Fred gave Everett the nickname “Crazy Eddie.”
It’s so rare that I see Stinkerbelle sitting calmly on the kitchen floor that I had to grab the camera and document it!
She actually got a little flirty with Spanky, who was walking by minding his own business. Any kitty who tries to get flirty with Spanky is wasting their time, though – Spanky just looked at her like “I do not understand the language you are speaking” and kept on going.
2011: No entry.
2010: If you have a few super-skittish or semi-feral kittens, try separating them – like I said, we’ve never had it not work for us.
2009: I forgot how much hotter Sawyer was with short hair!
2008: Since it’s getting late and I need to scoot out of here, how ’bout some links to check out, some pictures to admire, and a promise to see you tomorrow?
2007: Questions answered.
2006: You can’t ride two horses with one ass.
2005: No entry.
2004: Damn Home Depot.
2003: Yep. READY FOR SPRING!
2002: Sam’s rocks. Just so you know.
2001: I don’t know how on earth I missed it the first time around. But I’m sure it was Fred’s fault.
2000: “Fred, is F-A-G a bad word?”