Should have simply just gotten up and done homework reading, or grabbed a needle and thread and begun to turn the binding and stitch it in place....something! But I lay there, hoping to get back to sleep in the darkness and resumed quiet.
Originally, I was awakened by the sound of Cleo (as it turned out) retching. She ended up not tossing a hairball; it was a dry heave dry-run. Although, I am certain the main attraction will happen some time today, and probably when I am not around to locate it (before stepping in it).
After having lay there, unable to turn my mind off, I began to wonder what time it really was....and how much time I had actually put into the quilt. A lot of folks have asked, and while I began the project keeping pretty good track of the hours, I managed to let the task fall by the wayside somewhere along the way.
I turned on the TV to quickly ascertain the hour, and found it was 4:40AM....darn it! I lay on my back and noticed a spot moving on the ceiling overhead.
Quickly springing to my feet, I darted out of bed and found something to dispatch the sneaky spider before he could rappel from his space to my face. Ick!
Cleaned up the spider smoosh and returned to bed, but of course I was no longer the least bit drowsy, so I grabbed a pencil and some paper and began ciphering.
After a while I found myself becoming groggy, so I rolled over to enjoy a couple of hours of sleep in the lovely pre-dawn darkness....but it wasn't meant to be.
Not too far from me, somewhere in the dark, the familiar sounds of a cat about to deposit a sloppy, messy hairball sent my mommy-mode into hyper drive. Who and where, and can I get the transgressor to an easily cleanable surface? Nope, too late.
Hobbes stood motionless in front of me, about five paces off, finishing the process of making my day.
Paper towel, bottle of vinegar, a baggy to place the used towels and furry masses into. Armed with the tools of the trade, I quickly clean up and wonder what's next. I wash my hands and tumble back in to bed, hoping my blankets will love me more than the cats apparently do.
Nope. The Sandman and anything living in my home with four feet are in cahoots, I tell ya.
Hobbes jumped onto the bed and padded around; Flop crossed my legs and hopped off. This was a curiosity for Hobbes, since she's lately taken to picking on Flop, attempting to displace her any chance she gets in order to usurp Flop's spot in the sun, or on the bed next to the pillow, etc., etc.
Once Hobbes was convinced she had the bed to herself (my presence notwithstanding and quite inconsequential), she set about finding the most pleasing spot to lay down. This meant crisscrossing my chest and hips a few times, stepping stealthily up to my face and sniffing for signs of life, then finally coming to rest right next to my thigh....and grooming with a vengeance. After a bit, she settled and purred us both into a stupor, just as the gurking noise began in the distance.
That's right - Flop was now one level away and revving for a throw-up of her own. Hers are always messy, and usually on furniture or a rug.
On went a bedside light; up the stairs I ran; quickly I halted and located the position of the throwing-up cat with my mom-sonar. She spooks easily, and will trundle off to an unreachable spot if you disturb her mid-vomit.
Flop is a double-spewer.
I calmly spoke to her as I reached for a light switch, hoping to locate spillage number one, since she rarely stays too close to the first puke to deliver the second round.
Ah, there you a....eewwww! I found the first steamy pile....with my foot.
[heavy grossed-out sigh]
OK, so I am no longer thinking sleep is an option for the remainder of this early morning. I'll grab a nap sometime mid-afternoon when I am feeling it wash over me. For now, perhaps I will just head back to a spot on the couch and begin reading my chapters for class - again.
No comments:
Post a Comment