Shoo!

[waving hands frantically in all directions]

SHOO!

I mean it.....scat!!!!

Sod off

'nuff said.

Looks can be deceiving - I hope that's true

Guess we'll find out together, eh?

Fellow world dwellers - ENJOY!

In lieu of a post today I am opting to share an incredible video. INCREDIBLE!

It may start a little slow, but the music builds and so does the action. If you aren't smiling by ;00;25 in, I'll apologize to you personally.

Where In The World...

I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have watched this, and it never ceases to amaze, amuse and confound me. It makes me joyous - down to my very soul.

Please allow yourself the pleasure of the next five minutes.

Enjoy!

Hi

....and holding

Holding at a nearly-tolerable, temperate temp of 83*F indoors.

In a few short hours (probably around seven P.M.) we will turn on the attic fan simply to get the air moving - that's after the sun begins its downward journey toward the horizon and ceases to pound relentlessly. Pulling through moving warm air versus superheated air is a little more reasonable to my way of thinking.

Thankfully, there is a heavenly breeze moving around out there, and the cross ventilation we are feeling sporadically has helped to keep the house from becoming 100% stagnant.

Thank you, Lord, for the little heavenly things.

83* and holding.

Too h-o-t!

For those of you who love this sort of weather - WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!?!?

[whimpering]

Yes, I'll admit it. I am a heatwave-ist! I do not enjoy temps when they climb over 76*F (yeah, I don't know what that would be in Celsius...sorry).

Melting is not a hobby of mine and I've never been a fan of the hot weather.

In fact, as of 7:18 this morning, we had already hit my desired high temperature, and have so far easily cruised past it over the last three-quarters of an hour.

Have mercy on this heat wussy. Mercy! [sobbing] It's still only June, for crying out loud!

[drip, drip]

Oh. By the way...

Technically, we are holding at number nine.

However, we did catch number ten yesterday, but since it somehow managed to get it's head stuck in the trap (under the whacking bar the way it's supposed to work), but kept breathing and moving around - trying to free itself - we decided to set it free, so long as it could hold its own head up and walk straight.

Bud released it from the trap and threw it into the neighbor's backyard; we haven't seen it since.

We are waiting for a knock at the door, though.

Spazzed

I am surrounded by spazzes.

My cats spaz out on each other over any other cat who touches the yard and comes within view.

My sons spaz on one another for no good reason - and at a moment's notice. Karl spazzes routinely over online video game antics. Oh, the things he bellows at the PC and unknown/unseen opponents.

My mom spazzes during a phone conversation, and when I'd be justified to do the same thing to her because she is not listening (or, because she puts her own slant on something without gathering information first), I don't do it more often than do (neat spin on the phrase, right?), because it would just cause more friction....and I would feel the guilt for ages.

Directors spaz - in the form of huge hissy fits - and literally get in your face; and/or throw things (like hot set dressing and props) and spew, then expect everyone to completely forget the behavior and the scene they just ad libbed.

Yeah. Right. Not so much.

I spaz over stupid people behind the wheel of a car - and there are far too many of you for comfort. One of these days, I will be driving down the road in your vicinity and one of you will do something absolutely typical of a DABTW (Dumb Ass Behind The Wheel). I will spaz and you. will. know. it's me.

"How will I know it's you?" you wonder.

Because my mouth will opening and closing in your direction and then...SPLURT!!! My head will expode all over the inside of my car in a spaz meltdown.

Congratulations.

My favorite kind of spaz, though, is when the girls (my cats) spaz over treats.

Treat time is the best time of the day. Well after breakfast and just before the day-long siesta, I will pick up the pouch of treats and crinkle it just a tad, and - shoom! If they weren't nearby at the time, within seconds they are gathered at my feet, prutting and begging for the yummy little snacks.

It's amazing what a certain sort of noise will do to a cat's demeanor. The spazzes.

What trips your trigger? What makes you spaz?

Life is funny

Not "ha-ha" funny, or "odd/peculiar" funny - although it can be at times, I suppose.

No, I think I mean life is rye-ly humorous. It's mockingly clever. It's never obliging or commonsense, or without paybacks or caveats, but it's never (seemingly) hurtful on purpose - unless you're r-e-a-l-l-y asking for it.

And let's face it, shall we. There are some clowns who do ask for it.

Now, to my way of thinking, when somebody it 'asking for it,' I think life should give it to 'em right then and there, but as I said, life is never obliging, so sometimes life retribution is delayed (and sometimes delayed a bit too long in my estimation), but eventually it all comes and goes around as it is meant to.

I am not particularly enjoying my current state of standing in one place, but apparently I am not learning the life lesson I am supposed to be gleaning, so here I am! In the meanwhile, I am applying myself to learning new things; lolling about in classes and adding layers of knowledge to this youthful middle-aged mantle (and, yes, I used the correct version there), acquiring new skills to keep moving (hopefully) in a job-filled direction and perhaps toward a *new career field.*

*Sad and dreadful, but necessary in today's economy.

Anyhow, it's past the halfway mark in June, more than half of this new year is now over and gone, and while I feel ready to step into an office anywhere and begin working for the almighty paycheck once again (which I have been for quite a while), I do feel oddly incomplete. What that feeling is exactly I cannot say, so perhaps I will use this time to explore what it may be and where it's coming from.

Life is funny like that.

^x.x^

'Nuff said.

Well, well....

Number eight did not get away!

It's been a busy day, to be sure, and seeing their movements and understanding how they are trying to gain entrance has helped with the positioning of the trap for optimum chipmunk dastardliness. At least, I think that's what this is.

Seems cruel, but I cannot handle any more destruction to the house, nor can I manage any more repair type expenses. Their 'antics' in the wall is almost more than I can bear some days, so this is me getting even.

The gloves are off, baby, and I intend to win this battle, doggone it!