Nature loves me

I know people who believe our departed loved ones are represented by something (or things) that they themselves took delight in while they were alive.  For example: one of my friends has written a story about her mother's respect for spiders, and the way she took care to never kill one.  If found in the house, her mom would go to great lengths to remove a spider to a better place - every time.  So when my friend now sees a spider - especially in out of the way places or at odd moments - she feels her mom's presence quite strongly.

Others believe the sight of a cardinal means your loved one is with you at that time.  They 'appear' because you are confronted with a decision or an issue that has you in turmoil, and the cardinal's presence means you're not alone.  Cardinals also 'hang close' when those who are gone corporeally have been heavily in your thoughts.  It's a comfort thing...a blessing.

I believe in those things, too.

Although personally, my missing loved ones are represented by cranes.  Well, cranes and herons, but this is a distinction without a difference - to me at east.

This week was especially blessed when, on the drive to work, I saw five magnificent cranes flying directly over me.  I am absolutely certain they were my glorious girls and boys, and all at once I felt immediately saddened and delighted; there's no other way to explain it.  To see them all together made me catch my breath, and I wish with all my heart I could have pulled over and simply watched them soar until they were well out of sight.  I'm pretty certain the other drivers around me would not have been as thrilled with that decision, so I gawked as best I could given the circumstances.

All five in a tight pod.  Sleek and powerful, and beautifully bonded - and I knew straight away that this apparition couldn't have been anything other than Cleo, Flop, Hobbes, Jake, and Booker letting me know they'd found one another.  A bittersweet message to receive on the way in to work, yet it filled me with comfort for much of the day - even as the memory of it wrung tears periodically.  Isn't it amazing how similar the feelings are between happiness and sadness?

Even when all else around me is a disappointment or a struggle, I know nature loves me - thank God.

Dropping like flies

The headcount of those ill continues to grow around the ol' casa, now numbering three-of-six. That's two humans and one feline to be specific.

Hobbes seems to have been the first one of us to fall, followed closely by Brian. 'Beana' (Hobbes to you uninitiated blog readers) is the eldest of our furry family members, and had a high metabolism which keeps her constantly hungry. Although, for all of the eating she does, she never tops anything more than five or six pounds on the scales - if THAT. Her cold keeps her sniffing throughout the day and night, snorking and wheezing; blowing little kitty snot-bubbles in an attempt to clear her nose. Usually, the snot-bubble events happen in the still of the night, as she lies next to me on our queen-sized bed - she, slumbering (or preening) at her pillow and me snoozing blissfully on mine. I am awakened at intervals of what seem to be half-hour to forty-five minutes apart, and then never fully allowed to fall back into anything remotely close to a deep sleep. She doesn't hate me, she just thinks it's amusing to play the part of the mist off Niagara Falls in my face.

A stuffy nose is no different for a cat in its discomfort or inconvenience level than it is for a human, but humans can adjust easily to mouth-breathing if we have to - cats don't like that practice at all. And Hobbes...well, Hobbes likes to share.

And her stuffiness makes eating a bit of a chore, too, so I am met with a lot of uneaten food in her bowl. Good thing her fluffy sister has no issue with poaching leftovers.

At any rate, Bud's illness began in the form of the annoying throat-clearing which only seems to raise my hackles - and my mommy alarms. By the time he was really "a-hem, uagh, a-hem, mgg-uaghing" enough to make me want to smack him with a two-by-four, it was too late to pre-emptively strike with Airborn or some other nip-it-in-the-bud OTC remedy. Nope, he was in for a bit of a sick spell; but it went from a headcold to his chest. Then that mucus-to-throat issue created vomit a-n-d now an ear infection to boot! Along the way, he also seemed to be bothered by chills and muscle aches just as the headcold appeared to abate, so I am flumuxed by this round of sick.

However, Karl began throat-clearing, drippy nose, and sore throat complaints two or three days ago, then developed the dreaded "D" yesterday, just to make it interesting. Last night he then began to complain of aches in his joints, a headache and chills...so off to bed he went!

The remaining two cats and I are keeping some distance where we can, and are avoiding touching tissues irresponsibly left around the domicile. Other than that, everyone is well.

Oh, except I seem to have a repeat of a nasty eye infection of my left eyelid - again! Second time inside of a month, and it seems to happen after teaching at the JAF. Gotta be kid cooties, eh? Hoping the swelling is gone by tomorrow, since it looks as though I lost a round to a boxer, and you can't put make-up on that.

Hope everyone is fairing better wherever you are.

Catching up

I took the time yesterday to finish the paint job I began last week (before leaving to stay with mom), but ended up in tears.

Everything was moving along fine, then I began to peel the tape at the wall junctions and at the ceiling. Yup, you guessed it! The paint came of in large pieces along the ceiling, and by the time I could get it to stop, several inches were gone! Today will be a day of cleaning up the edges with a blade; using plaster to fill in and smooth it all over; sanding the dry compound; washing the wall down in those areas, then; priming the repaired spots and repainting.

Although, to be truthful with myself, the priming and painting will most likely happen tomorrow. Everything needs drying time, and I don't want any further issues with this paint job!!! Besides, there were also spots in the middle of the wall where it bubbled up and pealed, too, and those will need the same treatment. So I have enough to do with the filling and such to keep me from priming and painting today.

I don't know why this happened, since the first layer went on without any hitches or glitches - this just doesn't make any sense. It was/IS all very frustrating and disappointing, and I washed up everything in a flood of tears last night.

The boys had their own clean-up to attend to, since Hobbes lay down with her tail draped across the lid of the paint can! I couldn't believe it - the one time I grabbed the can to pour more paint in the tray and went right back to work without replacing the can lid!!! Really, Hobbes?!?!?!?

I'm still shaking my head over that one. I'll keep you updated on everything. Sadly. I won't get to move the furniture to it's experimental spots, but that's the breaks I s'pose. Of course, it also means there will be a further delay in hanging the art back on the walls and getting the new quilt pole hung as well.

[heavy sigh]

Random blah

My mind is so scattered and restless, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what or why - I just feel so uninspired and blocked.  Broken and useless.

Usually, when something like this creeps up on me and settles in, it's only one of those sorts of feelings, and I can busy myself with something or other to vanquish the bugger - to drive the feeling away.  It's never the gamut, though - never altogether.  So what is this?

I awoke this morning, not too very early, but felt lackadaisical about crawling out of bed and putting my feet on the floor.  Hobbes was by my side waiting for my eyelids to flutter, breathing patterns to change, and movement to begin.

She was unusually quiet, though.  Patient, even (very unlike her - eSPEcially first thing in the morning).  This morning she just sat nearby grooming and fussing with this and that - paws, chest fur, stray tufts here and there.  Eventually, she lay down, purring softly while staring out the window.  She became entranced by the soft light invading our space, and then she spotted something which made her start.

I strained to catch a glimpse, until I realized the only thing moving out there was snow.  Sparse small flakes falling and tumbling by the glass.  Then all of a sudden, the snow began falling with a purpose!  As though someone in the sky was throwing handful upon handful towards the ground. 

It's now roughly two hours later and it appears the snow is now falling with a vengeance.  Everything outside the back patio door is drowned in thick white, freshly fallen snow.  The cars out front are awash in it; and the lawn, all bushes, flowerbeds and tree limbs, are simply a tapestry of white.

It all almost echoes my mood, but somehow, the snow looks lovely.  My mood is anything but.

Still cranky

Yes, I am still cranky over the (substitute) mail carrier 'creasing' my mailbox, and I know I will be EVERY time I have to use that very bent handle to attempt opening the flap to retrieve my mail.

My eldest cat has gone painfully hard of hearing (which has become very evident over the past two months), and I feel awful for her; seeing us move our mouths and looking her way, and wondering what has gone wrong.  I can't imagine the grief this must cause her little brain.  What cruel trick are we humans pulling on her that she has no noise to accompany the sights she is used to?  Poor old dear.

Brian has been sick, but seems to have thankfully avoided the flu-ish portions of it all.  He is still very stuffed up and somewhat congested, but also seems to be on the mend.  Hooray!

Karl passed his second Algebra test with a 90%!  He says he is feeling more confident in class, and is able to spot when he gets to a section of the homework where the instructor hasn't yet gotten to in class. [happiness]

The thrill of K's success in class is somewhat offset by the little demon she-beast who stalked him last year; who once was a friend but became quite twisted and bossy, displacing her frustration with me (long story) onto him, and emotionally hampering Karl on a daily basis.  He finally got wise and cut her off, cut her loose, tuned her out and moved along.  It was a hard (but good) lesson for him, and he sailed through it with a modestly small amount of discomfort overall. 

However, she now seems to have found him on campus and narrowed in on his routines, haunting his route and yelling out taunts as he walks by.  Odd that she wasn't in these locations for the five+ weeks of class which have passed from the beginning of the semester to now, so I have to wonder what may be next.  Stay tuned.

Yesterday was sunny and enjoyable, but today is back to cold, grey, and snowy.  Tomorrow is to be a mix of snow AND rain along with the low temps (WHY??), and I feel moved to admit I am quite tired of it all.

Busily working on a number of projects; my intentions are to have one - if not two - items to enter into the next AQS event for 2013.  Also have another Sewing 101 class added to my calendar for the very beginning of March, but if I have not received payment for the remaining 9 classes I have lead since mid-January up to now, I will be turning down anything further.  Perhaps this will light a fire under their payroll department (and anyone else who needs to keep up-to-date in making my payments appear in a more timely fashion).

One can dream.

More another time, at present I am feeling muddled and need to step away from the keyboard. Ciao!

My cat's insane

...and I have free time!

Woohoo!  Just realized I can begin something that I won't have to stop doing to leave for tonight's class.

Merry Christmas and happy birthday to me!

Oh, yeah...and my cat is a raving loon.

October observations (of the feline sort)

Cleo - the epitome of a housebound tabby

Hobbes - the meticulously over-groomed foghorn

Flop - our opulent 'fraidy-cat'

Shock and ew

I almost flicked it with my toe.

I did! I was going to test a theory.

I caught a glimpse of something sitting on the carpet, next to the packs of snacky treats we feed the girls. At first, I gave it almost no thought, believing it to be just a design in the weave of the rug. But then, it dawned on me that there seemed to be a three-dimensional 'feel' to it. Was it my imagination or a combination of the fact that I wasn't wearing my glasses and the poor lighting?

I had given thought to dropping my foot on the area and sliding it about to test the shadow/design theory, but stopped abruptly and crouched down to further inspect this curious spot instead.

So glad I did.

It was, indeed, a dooky. A butt bisquit. A Beana berry. A poop!

I suppose it's high time we invested in diapers for Hobbes; she's become quite incontinent in her kitty dotage. Poor poop-dispensing dear.

Heave ho!

I've been awake for the better part of the past two hours - that is, as near as I can figure out.

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.

Rainy + foggy = Fainoggy?

Fraingy?

Roggy?

England?

It equals today in Michigan.

Ah, well. Let's move on.

September is already 2/3 gone, and I am nowhere near ready for October. But, the way the allergies are acting up, I will be glad (for both Karl and myself) to have the frost do it's thing. It will be a sad day when we have to close up the house for winter, for despite the pollen, fresh air wafting through is always welcome.

At present, Hobbes is sitting in one of the front windows having a staredown contest with our resident chipmunk. The chipmunk is unflinching, but 'Beana' is stiff competition. However, he is driving me mad with his endless chirpy little bark, so excuse me a moment, please.

Okay, I'm back and the noise is gone - at least for the time being. Sorry, cat.

I made a decent dent yesterday, in the first row of the quilt I am working on. Wish I could post a photo, but it would give away the design, and I can't afford to do that - just yet. Suffice to say, I was very happy to have gotten as much done as I did (for a change), and progress can be seen in snitches and snatches at www.truenorthquilter.blogspot.com if you're interested.

Today is supposed to be a warmer day - once the fog moves off. And since it rained overnight and into the early morning hours, it most likely will be a humid day, too, with the temps in the predicted high seventies. Yug.

Need to get Karl to corral his classwork and notes into a binder today. His armful of stuff is getting a little hazardous to carry, and impossible for him to find anything in. He likes it that way, but there is a way to organize it all, and Karl needs that practice.

Be quiet, Peanut Gallery.

And me? I have plenty of things to do, so I suppose I will close for now and get to them. Hope you have a productive day!

It's gonna take me a while before I sit on that sofa again

So....what I thought was Hobbes just sitting on the edge of the sofa, chillin' after a hard morning of rounding up mousies, was in fact, not the case. 

"Why aren't you still gnawing on the mouse?" I chided her. "How could you let it get away?"  Of course, I had no way of knowing exactly what did happen in my brief absence, but because there was no body, I had to assume the worst and hope for the best. 

Aside from the awful thought that there is now a mouse 'underground entrance' into my home, I do at least have the satisfaction in knowing I will not be waiting for the smell of rotting mouse to fill the air any time soon.  Hobbes was apparently keeping the little bugger warm while she was perched on the edge of the sofa.

That's right, my latest gift from the girls was nestled all comfy-like on the sofa - under Hobbes keister that whole time!  And it looks like she groomed it to death.

I've since cleaned and scrubbed the spot (and the surrounding three feet) well with soap and water, then with rubbing alcohol, but it is still going to be a memory that I am going to have to work to blot out of my mind.

Seriously?

Where's the @!&$ mouse?

You would think if someone had [gulp] eaten it, there would be some evidential glorp on the floor.  A schmear to clean?  Something!

[quaking with ickiness]

I'm not afraid of a mouse.  I'm afraid of the smell of a dead mouse.  Have you ever had the pleasure of smelling a decaying mouse corpse in your home?  You can't get away from it, you just have to wait until it fades.

On the farm, we would lay out bait, and of course, it would be eaten.  Stupidly, we figure the critter would go off and die somewhere - never figuring it would 'go off and die somewhere' IN THE HOUSE!!

Sheesh!

I had hoped I would be able to tell whether or not somebody had ingested the little fella by way of a diminished appetite at breakfast.  But, no!  I could picture it, all the girls in their eating positions, waiting to be served.  Hobbes, sniffs at her portion and pushes back with a burp.

"No shanks...nones for me [urp]. How 'bout just a cup of coffee and a Rolaids, please."

Guess I know what I will be doing all day (until I find the corpse, or proof of ingestion).

[glurk]

Intrepid hunters

Sleep interrupted by three mouse-hunting fuzzballs.

I thought the feet I heard creeping down the stairs were on the way to the box, but then there was a second pair of (nearly) silent feet.  I think the excitement of the chase destroyed all evidence of stealthiness on somebody's part.

Clearly, I missed the first set of feet entirely.

My aging, former barncats are now bumbling and fumbling over what next to do with their quarry.

Flop crouches near an unrecognized diminutive figure on the floor, growling as quietly as she can at Cleo, who is in the shadows - far behind the action.  Hobbes is hot on the trail and has cornered the seemingly crippled (or very dazed) mouse, and is 'on point', where Flop is still trying to find what is truly in front of her.

It's all too funny, and sad, and curious.

Hobbes is still carrying on with her very quiet talking.  What I cannot discern is if she is chatting to the mouse or squeaking instructions to the other girls.  Of course, it wasn't until I turned on my bedside lamp and peered over the edge to the floor, that I saw what exactly was going on.

Wobbly Mouse was either playing dead or was truly one foot in the grave.  Hobbes was sitting within nose-to-fur position, poking it at 12-second intervals to illicit movement.  Flop was alternately looking for said mouse and grumbling over her shoulder at Cleo.  Cleo...well, Cleo was laying on the floor, about four feet behind it all, cleaning her face and gazing in the general direction occasionally with mild interest and zero enthusiasm.

I hopped out of bed to grab a piece of paper towel with which to grab the soon dead carcass, heard a little commotion, and when I returned, mouse was nowhere to be seen and the cats had called off the chase.  Flop and Cleo had come upstairs, and Hobbes was perched on the sofa, looking neither satisfied or eager.

WHERE'S THE MOUSE??!!??

Jeez, I love a good farm cat.

Uh-huh...just what I thought

I walked in from garden patrol with muddy hands and a desire to soap them clean and brush up under my nails. Inside it was cool because the AC unit was on and a strategically placed, oscillating floor fan was wafting the air to and fro.

I kicked off my boots and mounted the two steps from the back door to the kitchen. Then I heard it.

The unmistakable sound of rustling tissue paper.

At the same time, Hobbes peeked out from around a corner and began her usual meowling conversation. Although, I can't quite say if she was asking me for more food, the chance to go outdoors herself, or if she was tattling on her little sister. Knowing Hobbes, it was most likely a combination of the three.

I concentrated on the tissue noise and looked over to find Flop attempting to skulk off the kitchen table while trying to keep eye contact with me (if she was spotted) and look adorable. She had been resting on my sewing on the table!

Hobbes: "I told hers nots to be theres. I told hers it was wrong to bes theres. I told hers she was goings to gets in troubles. I told hers I wanted to bes theres, but she woulds not shows me hows."

Me: "What are you doing up there? Get down! Flop! Get down."

Hobbes: "Can I gets more foods?"

Flop: A silent meow and an attempt to look adorable as she repositioned herself from a terrified flight crouch to a new state of repose on my dress.

All I can figure is that since I have moved, and begun using, the material in the shopping bags (that Flop would lie on) from the library floor, she just saw the easiest remedy was to follow the soft, squishy material from the bag to the kitchen table. Fair was fair. And the fact that the tissue paper makes the same noise as the plastic bag is just a bonus.

But how to account for getting stuck with pins? That had to be a shocker from time to time.

Well, at least now I know how it is that my perfectly pressed patterns and assembled pieces came to be wrinkled every now and again.

Fun and collateral damage

Have you ever watched a cat get into playing with a toy? I mean really get in to knocking it around, tearing at it and 'ripping it a new one?'

We have three girls who love their little mice. Just little nothing dollar apiece toys...and I don't even think there is any catnip employed in the process of making them.

They are fairly realistic in the size and shape - right down to the little leather tail and felt ears sticking out from the head...but they are not catnip toys. Yet, Beana, Flop and Cleo could care less about anything except getting their paws (and jaws) on one and batting the daylights out of it all around the house. Usually one of the girls will romp around while the other two watch in delight. So we bought three mice, just to keep it fair (and fun).

One day we realized a mouse or two had gone missing, so several more specimens were purchased and added to the lot.

I should mention we also have a fairly large jar of catnip, and we try to keep the stock of mice 'steeping' in the jar when not in use. Makes the cat-n-mouse games so much more interesting for us, and delicious for the girls.

Ain't that the way it goes?

It's barely 6a.m. and the cats have been fed, Brian has been up to the bathroom to be sick, and I discovered one or two of the little furry family members objected to my work around the lower level yesterday by peeing on the floor, approximately 3 feet away from the box.

Today is going to be some day.

I was startled awake by the unmistakable sounds of a cat making a hairball. Judging from the sound coordinates, she was over in the area of the sofa - ON THE CARPET! - and about ready to let loose.

- This is when you discover how quickly you can get out of bed when you have to. -

I had already been jolted awake easily half an hour earlier by Flop objecting to Cleo's arrival in the 'hood - with the usual growling and hissing - which only makes Cleo act all cute and playful. When Flop says "go away", Cleo usually wants to know why, then proceeds to push the envelope when asking. She must be the younger of the siblings.

Anyhow, we got it sorted out and purring, Cleo joined me on the bed, while Flop maintained her dominant position on the freshly repositioned living area.

Just as I was drifting back to sleep, Flop made with the hurking noises, and the panic ensued.

To sleep, per chance to......sleep! Ahhh, there's always tonight, I suppose.

I spent the second through the sixth with my grandmother, and came home to find Karl had washed the dishes - yea! While in Livonia I looked for work online, a lot, and found two good leads. Let's see where they take me.

I am thinking, while it is quiet, I will go to the market and get some necessaries. Brian works today at the mall job, so I will get my running around done before he has to leave. (He thinks this is the source of his upset stomach - too much work. He worked quite a bit of last week, and then the weekend at the festival, and now back to work with no time off in between. I keep telling him this is the real world, unless he finds a way to become independently wealthy.)

Yes, I am still without a car, but I figure getting one right away is not a critical need, as I won't be here for two months once October arrives. After I return home, then I will buy a car, mostly because then I will have some serious money to invest in a better one.

Oh, and before I forget, I did nothing wrong in caring for my vehicle. I took great care of it, and two (TWO) mechanics said that there was nothing to be found to indicate the trouble I had was imminent. So, sour grapes and raspberries to you! Next time you are having an off day/week/month, don't sling your poo in my general direction. Go find a punching bag and have at it. I believe you know who you are.

Cleo tells me she is still hungry, and my hair needs blowing dry or I will have Karl hair all day, so this is where I will end it for now.

Around 10 or so this morning, the gas people will be moving my meter to the outside of the house. No more squeaking wheels to listen to when the water heater does its thing and the heat comes on this winter! Now, if they will just fix the damage that occured from the hole they made when the meter and line were first installed, that would be groovy. Here's another series of phone calls to make - but ain't that the way it goes?

Have a great day all!

Uh oh, Karl is pukey

I began penning this entry (because if I had said: "I began fingering this...", [Pssst, meaning "typing"] nobody would have been able to get past the first line) and Karl was already in the throes of his bug or viral thing. While his bouts and trips to the bathroom are infrequent - thankfully - it hasn't yet come to an end.

I heard suspicious noises and hurried out of the library only to find Karl quickly entering the bathroom in a frantic state.

He began tossing his dinner around 2:30 a.m., and I would never have known that had Brian not come to me to inform me that his little brother was wretching like a fiend.

As I began to climb out of bed, Brian told me Karl was actually back in bed himself, and that he would let me know if any other activity happened. Now, normally, I would have been up the stairs like a shot and hovering and fussing, but Bud seemed confident - and eager - to assume the mantle of Vomit Monitor, so I let him. Although, as any mom knows, you don't easily let go of those reins and fall asleep knowing something is amiss under your roof. So I lie there, in the dark, thinking about not thinking about it. A complete waste of non-sleep time. How do you not worry?

I suppose that is why people drink. No clues = no worries.

Anyhow, Karl had no other trips to the bathroom last night, and up until right around 8:30 this morning, he was episode free (with the exception of heave-ho number one). So, now, he's pretty regular, having to hit the head every two to three hours. Poor kid. Still, that's better than it could be, right?

I divide my time between sitting with him and checking to see if there are any requests for ice chips, water, Pedialyte, etc., and doing some house work or sending out resumes.

Brian is getting ready to leave for class, and he is armed with information about/for Karl's tutor, letting her know K won't be in today.

2:45p.m.

Hobbes has taken it upon herself to be the medicine cat, sleeping with Karl, or just putting up with the groaning and movement. She is quite the trooper (although, I suspect she began with ulterior motives. Karl loves a good breeze in his face when he feels ill, and has opened the window above his bed for fresh air - she sticks her nose out for a snootful every once in a while, too).

4:17p.m.

Karl is less tortured with getting sick, now, but it all seems to be moving 'south' and concerning him in other ways. While he still feels slightly nauseated, we are sort of happy that the throwing up is over and that he is now hungry. I made jello cups this morning, and he is having the first helping. Let's see how it goes.

I trust everyone is well, and that all your loved ones are in tiptop shape. Enjoy the day.

Poor little Cleo

Yeah, she's having health issues again, and it appears to be the struvite crystals, as before. It was treatable, but costly, and it took a considerable amount of care and watchfulness...special diet, pushing fluid, giving meds. It was all worth it - she is a dear cat - and we were all relieved to be able to treat her and not have to put her down. But...

That was back about three years ago, when I was employed and that sort of thing wasn't a problem or a concern. Knowing that costs have gone up, and the diagnosis and treatment will be the same (even though I will take her to the same vet), I am slightly hesitant to put out the cash. But I will do it, simply because she is a member of the family, and I can't handle the thought of losing her. Brian knows that the alternative to taking care of her might be an agonizing decline, so he is mentally set to have to put her down, but I know it will rip a hole in his heart.

It's funny, we have three cats, and each one of them corresponds to one of us - either in temperament, personality, physical maladies, what-have-you.

I seem to belong to Hobbes. She is vocal and the "mom-cat", watchful, busy, fussy, but mostly vocal (and a little spastic). She is the first to volunteer in the kitchen, always wanting to eat, make sure others have eaten... She is gregarious and social and afraid of no one.

Flop, now she belongs to Karl. Or, rather, he belongs to the fuzzy one. She was his choice when I told the boys they could choose one kitten from the litter to bring with us to the new house in Clarkston. Someone to keep Hobbes company - and oh how they disagreed on which one (which is how we ended up with three cats; a long story I will tell you some day).

Flop is stand-offish and timid. Quick to lash out and yearning for attention, affection and contact, but unsure and clumsy in obtaining it. A bulldozer of a critter, but adorable and cuddly; so very much like Karl. She amuses herself much of the time, and from our locations in the house more often than not we can hear her having fun...but never really see it happening. It takes her a long time to come out of hiding, but once she adopts someone into her inner circle, she allows them to see her and get close from time to time.

Cleo and Brian are strange soul mates. They also have similar qualities...Brian had kidney stones a year ago, which oddly enough is just too similar to Cleo's issue. They are both open and friendly, sweet, playful, good natured, rough and tumble. Ready to have fun and be active, but most times would rather just hang and enjoy some quiet time and cuddling.

So, it turns out we have to get Cleo to the vet once more, so it was a good thing I spent some time babysitting great Gram - the capital made will help to pay for this unexpected cost.

Think good thoughts for the little fuzzyhead, and I will keep you posted.

Another year older and deeper in poo

For my birthday, the girls caught a mouse!

I don't know when the fun began, exactly, but right around first light, Flop followed the quarry noiselessly to the lower level. Despite her big cottony feet she made enough sound trying to move the furniture to get to the little Mickey-wanna-be, that I was awakened and very curious. Flop was desperate to get to the bugger, and of course, the little coward (mouse, that is) took the most direct path to the sewing area...and THAT'S when the fun began.

Eventually, Cleo joined the fray, and the real entertainment began! Between the two of them, the mouse was too scared to move more than a couple of feet. Once I moved some storage bins from their slots in the Ikea funiture tower (see a previous quilting entry for photo), there was pretty good access to the little rat fink...at which point Cleo poked it in the butt, and the mouse took off like a shot!

There was a darn good chase around the living area, culminating in the capture and release program held in the weight room.

Then Hobbes arrived.

She had that thing in her little vice-like jaws and upstairs before the other two knew what had happened. Hobbes does not monkey around!

So happy birthday to me...I got a mouse, and a DVD version of Love You to Death, a chocolate cake from my mom ("remote control delivery" via grandson number one), a gift certificate to JoAnn Fabrics, and lovely green buds on trees and shrubs! Who could ask for anything more?

Well....I could. May I have a full time, PAYING job, please?

Thanks for tuning in. More PRODUCTION NEWS soon. In the meanwhile, pray for a job, please.

I feel compelled to post a photo of Flop

Cleo and Hobbes have had their moments here in the blog, but poor Flop, darling that she is, hasn't been featured. I think that it is only fair to get her picture out here for all to admire and coo over (LOL). So, without further ado, here is the Flop-meister.

Sometimes, there is peace in the kingdom, and the three will share a favorite place in the sun. More often than not, you will only find two together in any given spot...so these photos of triple sisterly bliss are few and far between. But these are my girls.

^Clockwise, from the 12 o'clock position, there is Cleo, Hobbes and Flop.

This is actually a grazing photo from last winter into spring. Those little boxes of grass were a great source of amusement for us, and usually led to a mowing session in the living room after the little jaws stopped chomping.