Sunday, February 26, 2017

Killing Some Time

Just because I haven't been blogging (or FINISHING blogging; case in point, this post), doesn't mean I haven't been DOING things that may or may not be blog-worthy (case in point, this post...).  

In January, the College Boy and I went on a couple of adventures (I do love an adventure). First, we went to Oklahoma City. It was cold. And windy (it's always windy in Oklahoma - you know the song, "Ooooooklahoma where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain" and they ain't a-kiddin'). I had several hours to kill while College Boy was at his appointment, I didn't want to hang out at a mall, so I went to the zoo

A week later, we made a little trip to Omaha. In January. When a massive ice storm was predicted, as in wild-eyed meteorologists speaking of power outages and impassible roads across the entire mid-section of the country. He needed to be in Omaha on a Saturday morning, and we planned to drive up the Friday afternoon before and return home on Sunday. Then Icemageddon 2017 was forecast and our plans had to change (and no, we could not change the appointment and yes, I will explain why at a later date - be patient). I had already made arrangements to rent a car that got better gas mileage than my Sequoia (there's a reason it's named after a tree), and man, I was ready! I had that little car stuffed to the gills with sleeping bags, water, healthy snacks (plus M&Ms, because, come on), blankets, a bag of kitty litter (for traction), ice scrapers, heavy coats and boots, plus our luggage for a three day trip. 

(Interesting factoid: the College Boy was not allowed to drive the rental car, because you must be 25 years old to do so. Kid you not. He can vote. He can go to war. He can drink legally. He can BUY a car. He cannot, however, RENT a car. Go figure.)

We hit the road and got to Omaha late Thursday night. The College Boy's appointment wasn't until Saturday morning. Do you know what you do when you have a whole day to kill in Omaha in January? You guessed it - we went to the zoo.

Omaha has an AH-MAZ-ING zoo - the Henry Doorly Zoo, and if you ever have a reason to go to Omaha, you MUST pay it a visit. We visited it about 8 years ago on a trip to Colorado (and if you want to take a minute a look at a map to see how very NOT on the way that is from Southwest Missouri, you will see why you should make an effort to go there if you ever get a chance).

I had never been to a zoo in the winter before (and now have been to two within a week), and I will tell you that you will pretty much have the place to yourself when it's 22 degrees with a windchill of 14 degrees, but here's a few things I learned from my two zoo trips:

Zoos smell much better in the winter than in the summer.

College Boy HAAAATES getting his picture taken,
selfie or otherwise. Especially selfie.

I understand animals like elephants and lions and giraffes being taken off exhibit and put somewhere warm during the winter, but that pansy ass grizzly bear had absolutely no excuse.

You see a grizzly? No, no, you don't.

I have always been more concerned with wearing a cute coat than in being warm, and now that I have bought the warmest coat I have ever owned, I see just how really stupid that line of reasoning has been. Bonus: the coat is cute.

Some animals are cute and some are ugly and some are fierce and some look like a cartoon illustration.


Not exactly cute.

Fierce. Him, not me.


Cats are cats. Some will kill you and eat you, but all of them like nothing better than sitting in a box.

Giraffes deserve their own door.

Look closely. People door on left, giraffe door on the right.

Shhh! They're still getting used to their indoor digs.

I can't speak for all baboons, but I'm pretty darn attractive to one of them.

Parts of him showed his love for me more
than other parts....

The look of love.

Henry Doorly Zoo is known for their gorillas. Here's one now.

College Boy: But what if I drop my cellphone? Then what?

Gotta be a ninja to take a picture of him.

And the ice storm of the century? Didn't happen, or at least not where it was predicted. We made it home with nary a drop of freezing rain. Ate all the M&Ms and most of the healthy snacks on the drive home. And my favorite zoo animal was waiting for me when I got home.

My Nora Pearl loves me more
than that baboon ever could.

Saturday, February 11, 2017


2016 did not play nicely. It took away my mama and my beloved precious kitten Ruby. Several friends have lost a parent this year, including two very recently. And I'm not even going to talk about the election.

But the worst part is I have lost some of my motivation to write. And I hate it. 

I WANT to write. An idea will flash through my brain, but before I can grab it, it slips through my fingers, like trying to catch smoke with my hands. 

It's not just blogging, either. I feel as though my brain is like an old electrical outlet that I remember from my childhood. Too many cords, all of them cloth-covered and some of them frayed, plugged into my brain, which then overheats and shuts down. So far, I haven't completely blown a fuse or caused a fire, but it could happen.

With the beginning of a new year (okay, beginning plus a month and a half), I'm going to do my best to rewire all those cords, maybe even plug them into a fancy surge protector instead of an extension cord. A few of those cords might not even be needed anymore. I think I'll unplug them one at a time and see what happens (lights flicker ominously...).

My first step in the rewiring process is that I have stepped down as host of Ten Things of Thankful. I've been a lousy host for months now, not writing OR reading posts, but by officially unplugging that cord, I will no longer feel a little shock when I brush past it.

2017 is going to bring plenty of things to write about. I have one kid graduating from high school and one from college. I'm going to participate in the A to Z Challenge again this year. I'm planning to go on some adventures. And there's Nora. Oh, that Nora!

Soon, I will write. 

Linking up with Ten Things of Thankful 

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Pre-Thanksgiving Thankfuls

'Twas the weekend before Thanksgiving, and I HAVE A COLD. I have a cold EVERY SINGLE YEAR  at Thanksgiving. 

This is a by-product of working with small children.

I am not thankful for this. The cold, not working with children. They're pretty fun.

Job perk.

How 'bout a list of what I AM thankful for? Hmmm?

1. Since my nose is stuffed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, I'm not wanting to eat much. This could work in my favor.

2. Two day work week.

3. Believe it or not, I'm actually thankful the weekend is OVER. I had to bake desserts for two nights of a show choir fundraiser AND for a Project Graduation fundraiser. I is tired.

This tired.

4. I went to the oncologist this week. Only five more monthly injections until I am DONE. 55 down, 5 to go. That's manageable!

Funny story about that visit. The morning of my appointment, I didn't eat anything until snack time at preschool. We had cupcakes, and I ate one, and it was good. As I was about to leave preschool and head for the doctor, I grabbed a handful of candy corn out of the cabinet, just because I saw it there and thought, hey, candy corn. As I was getting out of the car at the doctor's office, brushing candy corn crumbs off the front of my shirt, it hit me that I probably should have rethought my breakfast and lunch choices when I was about to get bloodwork done. I gave my doctor the head's up about what I had eaten, just in case my blood sugar came back a little high.

So, the next morning, I got a voice mail from the doctor's nurse, and she is laughing. Apparently, the doctor had noted what I said on my chart, and my blood test did, indeed, come back with a high reading on my blood sugar, as in it was 198 when it should have been in the 80-100 range.  Whoops! Fortunately, I am now sufficiently burned out on candy corn for the season. Can that be another thankful?

6. I got all the fall decorations put away.  Now I just have to get the College Boy to get the Christmas decorations down out of the attic.

Gratuitous kitten picture, because she's cute.

7. My husband did all the laundry today. If he would put away my stuff, I could make this into two thankfuls, but alas, he just leaves it in a stack on the bed.

8. Did I say two day work week?

9. Obama/Biden memes.

10. This:

They've been talking about singing this for three years, and they picked Senior year at the show choir fundraiser to do it. Yes, I cried. 

Don't wait until Thanksgiving to remember there are thankfuls all around you.

Ten Things of Thankful

 Your hosts

Friday, November 18, 2016

Thoughts From A Muddled Brain

Random thoughts to crowd out the ugly results of the presidential election:

Nora is the Tasmanian Devil. Or maybe the real Devil. Except when she's not. Right now, she's sleeping on the foot of my bed, and she's dreaming, maybe of chasing butterflies, maybe of putting a choke hold on Fletcher, but she's sweetness incarnate right now as her toes curl and her nose twitches while she sleeps.

I heard one of our local news anchors say "her and I" on the air, and I can't unhear it.

Unfollowing people on Facebook post-election has been so satisfying. You may think unfollowing rather than unfriending is passive-aggressive, but you know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, plus I'm a sissy.

Lin-Manuel Miranda is my new boyfriend. 

One of our two boy cats (we don't know which, as they don't sign their work) pooped in my husband's closet while we were at my dad's last weekend. (Nora is innocent, as she was with us.) We found out this happened when my husband put something in the closet, stepped in the poo, then tracked it all across our bedroom and down the hall before he noticed. 

Without being TOO graphic, the poo was, shall we say, not in solid form, and whoever it was got it in (INSIDE, people!) two different shoes, one tennis, one dress, besides three places on the floor. Oh, yeah, and out of 3800 square feet of house, guess which space is the ONLY space in the entire house with carpet in it? Mmmhmm, our two walk-in closets.

I'm pooped out.

Spotify > Pandora

My dad bought himself a new sewing machine. He has some projects to do, he says. More power to him.

My husband was so inspired by my dad that he's now watching sewing tutorials on YouTube, and I know this because he's doing this without benefit of headphones.

Shotgun watches for deer.

Toilet paper is not optional and should be provided to everyone for free.

A happy heart is good medicine.


Sunday, November 6, 2016

Halloween Is Over And Other Thankfuls

I would like to start a movement to make Halloween and the day after a national holiday. Our school district does realize that trying to have real class on Halloween is an exercise in futility, so the kids only go half a day and have parties, with the other half for teacher in-service. We held our parties at preschool the week before, since Halloween was on Monday this year, so Halloween was just another day at preschool for us, except for the fact that it was HALLOWEEN and the kids were WOUND. UP. Then the next day? November 1? Don't even get me started on how kids are the day AFTER Halloween. I guess that will lead me to my Ten Things of Thankful rather nicely.

1. Preschool is only half a day.

2. We had amazing weather for Halloween. It was warm and clear. That is a thankful for those who trick or treat, not particularly for me, as our neighborhood is the "cool" place to go trick or treating and the warm weather brought them out in DROVES. We had 970 trick or treaters that night. Yes, you read that right. 970.

3. I told my husband I wasn't going to participate in Halloween next year. We spend a small fortune on candy and it stresses me out to have so many people crowding around me (we sit outside on our front steps and hand out candy, and there will be a line of 20-30 people on our sidewalk waiting to come up). Next year, I said, we're either going to be gone or we're going to hide inside. Then former preschoolers come to my house to trick or treat, just so they can see me, and I realize I'm not going to be hiding in the house next year.

4. I bought candy I don't really like, so I wasn't tempted to eat any much of it.

5. Tub Ball lives on! One day a year or two ago, my son tossed a bouncy ball into the (empty) jacuzzi tub, Ruby chased it, and a new game was born. Ruby entertained herself by endlessly chasing that ball around the tub, and when the plastic cup I use to rinse the tub out got knocked into the tub, she added that to the game, knocking the ball into the cup and fishing it out again. When Ruby died, I set the bouncy ball on the side of the tub by the cup and never touched it again. Then last week, Nora was bouncing around and annoying Fletcher, so I got the ball, bounced it into the tub, and she was hooked. The downside to tub ball is that it is NOISY, but it's a noise I can live with.

6. We have a barred owl hanging around outside at night. This one isn't saying "Who cooks for you" but is making a different sound. I looked it up and it's still a barred owl. Wish I could see it, but, you know, night.

7. Nora not only went to the vet for her third set of kitten vaccinations, but she also made "Patient of the Day" on the vet's Facebook page! She's a star! She's now 3 lbs. 12 oz., and will get her kitty maker and front claws removed (don't talk to me about this if you are against it - I don't want to argue the point with you any more than I want to argue with some one about why the HELL they would seriously vote for Trump) in a few weeks. The fleas are better, but I'll be damned if I didn't pull her out of her carrier and find one peeking out from right between her eyes. 

8. Emma was scheduled to take the SAT yesterday at a little college in my hometown, an hour away from here. We went up Friday evening and stayed with my dad. I had planned to take ingredients up there to make us dinner with enough for him to have leftovers for a few meals, but he insisted he wanted to cook for us, so we let him. He has taught himself to make a roast and potatoes in the fancy non-stick pan he bought himself at Bed, Bath & Beyond, and by golly, he's got it down! He's really doing well since my mom passed away in July. I'm very proud of how he's learned how to be domestic, and I will never, ever turn down his offer of fixing me roast beef and potatoes!

Nora making herself comfortable
in my dad's lap.

Yes, that's a grape. Yes, she got it out
of a bowl on the kitchen table. Yes, my
dad not only watched her do it but
also encouraged her.

9. While Emma was taking the SAT, my dad and I went up to the Methodist Church for their annual soup and pie lunch. You get to pick your own dessert (homemade pies of every kind) and they bring you a big bowl of vegetable soup that is ALMOST as good as the vegetable soup my mom used to make. They have a Christmas bazaar as well, although we didn't go through that. My mom never missed a year going to this event, meeting her friends up there and browsing at the bazaar before eating, and I attended it many times with her. It made me miss her a lot, but it was nice to transition it into something my dad and I could do together. And we both picked coconut cream and it was excellent.

10. I voted early! My husband has to be out of town on Tuesday, and he found out he could go to the courthouse and vote absentee, so I did the same, as I have a very small window of opportunity within which to vote on Tuesday, and there was no way I was going to miss my chance to vote in this election.

How about you? Thankful for anything this week? How about the return to Standard Time? Fer it or agin it? (I'm fer it myself - I hate it when it's dark in the morning when I have to get up.) Link up with us. You still have HOURS to write a post and join us!

Ten Things of Thankful

 Your hosts

Friday, October 28, 2016

Well, I'm Not Thankful For Fleas

This week went by like a freight train. Or make that a coal train. The coal train goes through here loaded when it's heading south, empty for the return trip up north somewhere. Without fail, when the coal train passes, I sing this line from the John Prine song Paradise:

Daddy, won't you take me back
To Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River
Where paradise lay?
Well, I'm sorry, my son
But you're too late in askin'
Mr. Peabody's coal train
Has hauled it away

Every time. Never gets old. Well, not to me. It does to anyone in the car with me, especially since the railroad track goes diagonally across the entire town, and you stand a pretty good chance of running into that train four or five times if you're headed across town as it goes through. 

Sooo, Ten Things of Thankful? Coming right up!

1. The week went by fast.

2. Pumpkin Parties were this week at preschool, which is why #1 is #1.

3. The preschool staff Halloween costume theme this year was Nursery Rhymes, so we were Three Blind Mice in my room. Best. Costume. Ever. Assistant teacher Janet's husband made us canes out of dollar store mop handles, we wore gray shirts and leggings, mouse ears, a tail and sunglasses. I had a terrific time being a blind mouse. Ask anyone.

4. Little Debbie Devil Creme cakes. I used to think Swiss Rolls were my favorite, but I'm pretty sure they just fell to second place after experiencing a Devil Creme cake (and a half) at Thursday's Pumpkin Party.

5. I wrote a post this week! And it felt good. It's been a long time. Too long. 

6. My sweet high school friend Ruth even commented on Facebook when I posted the link to my blog post that she had missed my writing. Ruth always knows the right thing to say. Always.

7. I'd make this thankful that I haven't seen a live flea in 24 hours, but I don't want to jinx it. Pretend I didn't say it.

8. This is pretty big, I think. Emma was officially accepted at the University of Arkansas. We have a Razorback in the house!

9. DAMMIT. Just found a live flea on Nora. This is NOT a thankful. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT THANKFUL. 

10. I bought Halloween candy that I don't like, so no worries that I'll eat half of it before Monday night.

Find your thankfuls and link up with us! May yours be flea-less.

Ten Things of Thankful

 Your hosts

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Life With Nora

People get a second kitten for the same reason people have a second child; you forget how DIFFICULT it can be when they're little, because they're so darn cute.

We have had Nora for just over a month. That sweet little puff ball who was rescued from a ditch where she had been left for dead shows no sign of her ordeal. None. Left hind leg working fine. Missing fur on tail grown back in. Abrasions healed. 

Now she is a holy terror.

The big boys hate her, naturally. 

She left her mama too young, so she didn't learn some basic kitten manners, like DO NOT BITE PEOPLE ON THE NOSE. Or anywhere else. Those teeth are like razors.

But she sleeps with me every night, starting out the night on top of my head, purring and snuggling in my hair (weirdly pathetic, as she still has miss-my-mama issues). At  some point in the night, she crawls under the covers and sleeps at the foot of the bed. For hours. The other night, my husband thought she had to be dead, because how could she stay down there for so long without any fresh air? He nudged her and got no response. Nudged harder. Nothing. Reached under the covers and hauled her out, and sleepy and bleary-eyed, she flopped back down and continued her snooze. She's down to probably 7 lives at this point.

The latest Fun with Nora Pearl event happened Friday evening. I was sitting in my big chair while Fletcher laid on the arm next to me. I pulled out the kitty brush and began brushing him (which he loves). As I pulled fur out of the teeth of the brush (it's a de-thatching brush and is AMAZING at getting all that loose hair out of an indoor cat), something moved. Yes, MOVED. 


Bear in mind that my cats DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. And we don't have a dog or goat or any other animal that might be the reason fleas got in the house, and that means...


I brushed and brushed poor Fletcher until he was nearly bald (and this is entirely possible, as I de-thatched Pete so enthusiastically when I first got that nifty comb that I did, indeed, make a bald patch on his back). Then I brushed Nora. Between the two of them, I got maybe a dozen fleas total. That's two dozen too many. I located Pete and brushed him (which he hates). I didn't find any live fleas, but I brushed out a LOT of flea dirt (for the uninformed, "flea dirt" is a nice way of saying flea poop, and flea poop is made out of your pet's blood, and yes, it's gross to think about). It seems the fleas were feasting on Pete, but hanging out on Nora and Fletcher, as neither of them had any flea dirt on them.

Now, my husband is sitting across the room the three hours or so that I brushed cats. Knowing the thought of fleas would alarm him, to put it mildly, I just kept my pie hole shut. Eventually, however, he noticed the brushing marathon and started asking questions. I dodged and deferred (no pun intended), but when I went to bed and Nora wrapped herself around my head, I had to keep telling myself that if there were fleas jumping from Nora onto me, they'd been doing it for quite awhile and I might as well just not worry about it.

Didn't sleep so well.

Saturday morning, under the umbrella of "running errands," I went by the vet's office, walked in the door, and said, "We have FLEAS!" Nora, otherwise known as Patient Zero, and who has had two doses of Revolution (for ear mites, although it also treats fleas and other parasites (ick), did not need anything further. The vet tech then asked for the boys' weights so she could get them the proper dosage of flea medication. Fletcher got the regular adult cat formula for his 12 lbs. (and he's down about three pounds since early summer, something that will need to be addressed at some point and that is hopefully just attributed to the fact that he's over 13 years old now). 

The problem was that the dosage only went to 19 pounds, which is a VERY BIG cat; just not as big as MY cat.

The tech texted the vet for guidance. I was there when the vet called back and could hear her through the phone.


Long story short, lard ass Pete had to get a dog dose of flea medicine.

When I got home, I dosed the boys, then washed all the blankets they like to sleep on, just in case, and it was then that I broke the news to my husband that the cats all had fleas.

"I KNEW you were up to something when you spent three hours brushing cats last night!" he said, followed by, "I itch! I itch!" to which I responded, "No, you don't" although as I write this, I'm scratching my head where a certain kitten likes to lie and telling myself that people aren't natural hosts for fleas.

One of the items I washed was a fleecy cat bed that my mom bought for one of my cats many, many years ago. Pete used to love it, but he quit using it, and we assumed it was because he outgrew it. Ruby slept in it occasionally, but it pretty much languished in a corner of my bedroom until Nora came along, and she slept in it those first couple of weeks when we had to keep her segregated from the boys. What I didn't know was that the cover came off, so I threw it in the washer and put it back on the foam form and next thing I knew, Pete had wedged himself in it and has pretty much stayed there ever since, leaving only to eat or pee in something he shouldn't (another story). 

So back to Nora. I have broken up no less than 16 brawls between her and Fletcher today, removed her from the kitchen counter about five times, stopped her from climbing my leg like a tree three times, dodged a nose bite probably ten times, took her out of the refrigerator four times, and tripped over her maybe half a dozen times. I keep an empty Diet Coke can with 11 pennies in it (because that's how many were lying on the kitchen counter) that I keep between the screen door and my front door and shake at her when I come in, because she has taken to trying to make a break for it when the door is open, and I know the mailman must think we're crazy for keeping a Diet Coke can there, and I probably should tell him why, but maybe it's best just to keep him guessing.  

Fletcher, annoyed.

She clears off tables either by taking a flying leap onto them and sliding across the top or by sitting there and purposefully knocking each and every movable item off with her paw. She plays with cords. She ambushes all of us, human and feline. She gets in the dishwasher. She gets in the clothes dryer. She unfurls the toilet paper. She has about thirty toys scattered all over my bedroom and then lies in her empty toy basket. She sticks her head in my glass and tries to lick my ice, dumps over my towel basket so she can sit in it, chews on boxes, tips over wastebaskets, and yesterday, Emma was in the kitchen with her, heard her meowing, and found her INSIDE the kitchen wastebasket. 

Note turned-over trash can behind her.

I just picked a live flea off of her and it got away.

And I love her.