Saving Sunday

I thought about posting something nostalgic yesterday, but time got away from me- which is rather ironic because yesterday, I did absolutely nothing except cook lunch, then dinner, and cleaned up in-between. In other words, time was on my side. The couch and I have been reuniting as of late and let me tell you, it's been a long time coming.

A few weekends ago, I remarked to the husband that I had developed a love/hate relationship with the weekend. To be more specific, Sunday had become the day of dread simply because Monday was the train wreck that could not be avoided. As a result, Sunday was spent watching the clock and bemoaning each passing hour and every bit of work-work that I had to cram into that given day.

(Work-work as in paycheck work, not the payless work found in everyday housework... definitely worth making the distinction).

So, the man in whom I have become so dependent on to keep me sane grew silent- which is unusual in itself, took a long breath, and looked me straight in the eye. Being the dreamer that I am, I anticipated his next words to be something along the line of "Well, just quit."

I was also once a sixteen year-old girl who was convinced my dad was going to find a way to get that 1986 Mustang GT Convertible, white with red leather interior, from the showroom floor just for me- or, at the very least, bring home that snazzy, red Pontiac Fiero from the used lot.

Like I said, I'm a bit of a dreamer. 

Alas, much like the unattainable dream of a sports car at sixteen, the husband did not tell me to quit or produce a winning lotto ticket or empathize with me for even a minute. To my teary tirade of what a mess Sunday has become for me mentally, he simply and matter-of-factly stated, "Then take your Sunday back."

With those words, which were oddly enough said on a Sunday morning, he turned and walked away, leaving me reeling in wave after wave of emotion and thought. Take my Sunday back? Such a ludicrous phrase, and yet I couldn't help but wonder. It sounded just crazy enough to work. After all, the man has never led me astray to date. I took his words to heart and two weekends later, I have done just that. I'm still in the beginning phase and not totally convinced that I'll be able to keep this up, but I am much more relaxed and as a result, determined to make this the new normal. I have also been more focused during the actual week knowing that, as Ecclesiastes says, there's a time for everything.

For the record, the first Sunday was rough. Every hour I would head to my laptop just to remind myself, "Nope." I fought off feelings of guilt and laziness and a general sense of "not good enough." But I also cooked a guiltless dinner for my family because I wasn't cranky and took my time cleaning because there was nothing sitting in a queue for the printer to print. I went to bed relatively relaxed and still managed to have a successful Monday even though I had not spent the Sunday prior staring at a screen.

So that's why the couch and I have become reunited. I've watched tv and read an actual book and napped at random times. I even decided to jump on this cobweb-encrusted blog as you can see (or read). If I keep this up, those freed-up Sundays might just produce that spark for which I've been waiting.

Better rest up.

Side Note: It's been a little over 2 months now, but Benny Boy left us for greener pastures and unlimited birds to chase. Those who have been around here for a while will know him. He was always my writing buddy and my constant companion back during those long days at home. I miss him dearly.

Being A Life Coach Is NOT On My Resume

A new calendar is on the fridge. It's a Gary Patterson... we do the same cat theme practically every year. Can't risk shaking things up too much.

The youngest asked me earlier if I do New Year's resolutions.

The answer?

Nope. Notta. Not worth the pressure.

I'd like to lose weight. I'd like to read more. I'd like to watch more basketball. I'd like to be a better wife, mother, friend. I'd like to read my bible more, pray more, give more. I'd like to be nicer, friendlier, happier. More optimistic. Less negativity. Cook more, clean more, walk more. 

A whole lotta MORE.

But you know what? I am who I am and to be perfectly honest, no one has ever accused me of having too much ambition. Let's face it, here I sit on this computer, in a recliner, the Wisconsin/South Carolina football game winding down. I have floors to clean, fans to dust, and papers to sort.

And most likely none of it will happen.

Oh, I have tackled laundry like a champ and managed to declutter my dresser, but other than that, my cleaning spree is about to come to an end. I'm in the midst of a good series on Netflix so even though reading is a passion of mine, the book has literally been put on a shelf for now. Papa John's did the cooking today. My bible has yet to be opened.

No wonder I don't do resolutions.

Nevertheless...

Happy New Year!

I'm all for new beginnings, even if I don't make promises to myself that I could never keep. Don't think of it as low expectations... think of it as a reality that I refuse to deny. I'll get where I'm going, one Gary Patterson calendar at a time.

Lost Cats & Sewing Machines

I'm slightly disgusted with people right now- no one family or work related, by the way- so I thought I'd reach down into the depths of my positive-thinking compartment (yes, I do have one of those hidden away by years of dust and neglect) and find something uplifting to talk about on a blog that I've not done much with lately.

Whew. How's that for a sentence?

I started with a time of confession with the daughter. Exactly one week ago I wrote a short entry pertaining to her cat that I saved in my archives, but did not publish. It went something like this:



If I were a cat, where would I be?

I'm not kidding here. I came home to a house that should have two cats lounging on the clean laundry, and I can only find one. This is not a good thing when you've got the youngest away and you're in charge of her cat.

Not a good thing at all.

I've checked every nook and cranny. I've shook the treat bag. I looked under the table, under the chairs, and on top of the washer. I've called here kitty, kitty in a pitifully sweet voice (which does no good considering this particular cat doesn't like me much). If that cat is here, she is keeping her presence under wraps.

She has to be here.

The doors were locked. The windows shut. Unless we've had a cat burglar (which makes me chuckle), that cat has got to be in the confines of this house. The other cat is of no help. He just looks at me with total disinterest and jumps on the table as soon as I turn my back. Heck, for all I know, Old Man Cat might have taken care of Young Feisty Cat himself. Even so, I'll still be the one to take the blame.

I simply must find that cat.

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The cat was found hiding inside the couch, of all places (torn lining.... who knew?). She made herself known only after the oldest roamed the neighborhood posting signs. We made a pact not to tell the daughter. The time was right this afternoon, however, so I confessed my lack of cat-sitting skills and we moved on.

Which, in a round-about way, brings me to my feel-good story.

I was cat-sitting last week because the youngest, that daughter of mine, was away on a mission trip. The details of the trip and the troubles that attempted to hold her back are not as important as the outcome. On her last day there, she called me to talk about a sewing machine that she helped a lady set up in her home. Now I don't know if this is as big of a deal as what it was to me, but let me ask you,

How many young teenage girls do you know who understand sewing machines? 

Apparently this particular lady had been in possession of this machine for a few years with no one to show her how to use it. Along comes my girl, who for all intents and purposes had been wondering about her place on this trip, and presto! She set things up and gave a few how-to instructions. If that's not God putting you in just the right place at just the right time, then I don't know what is.

It all makes me think of Queen Esther, my favorite of favorites in the Old Testament, and therefore gives me that feel-good feeling that comes from closing the drawer on the negative and spending some time with the positive.

In my book, that's a good place to be.

Wet Cats & Country Music

We are the home for two cats.
Two very, MAD cats at the moment.

I would take a picture, but out of respect for their self-esteem (do cats have such I thing?), I will refrain. Let's face it, nobody looks pretty coming straight out of a bath... especially a cat.

That daughter of mine is a trooper. She jumped right in and gave the first one, the old and clawless one, a Dawn-infused soapy bath without too much excitement. For cat number two, the younger one with claws, she sported a long-sleeved shirt at the advice of her older brother and fearlessly battled the flying suds for the one she loves.

And once again I cannot help but wonder,

How in the world did we end up with animals in the house?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Summer marches on our house. In our neck of the woods, it's been nothing but rain every day. The sun will shine for brief moments and if you're lucky, you might catch a glimpse of blue sky before the clouds close in. Our grass has never been so green. Seriously. That's the plus side of our rain-soaked forecast. The down side? It's almost impossible to get that green grass mowed. Oh, and if your job happens to involved the outdoors, like the husband's... well, that just throws another curve into the already curvy road of life and bills.Typically at this juncture of July I would be complaining about the heat.

I know. Some people are just never happy, huh?

Speaking of bills and never being happy, I'm thinking of taking my education to the next level. I figure I've got student loans that aren't going anywhere anytime soon, the rates (for new loans) just shot up anyway,  and hey, who knows what might be around the next corner.  I keep thinking there's got to be something more.

Which makes me think of a song that brings me to this video.

Don't worry. I have no plans of hitchhiking or running away and I am happy, but if I ever do pack a suitcase, I'm taking my mom with me.

Right, Mom? ;)

The Cat That Almost Earned A Tombstone On A Cool Morning

This is the third time I've sat down to write something this morning. The first time was going to be all about how I'm really not a morning person, but when the weather is cool and sunny and not a drop of humidity in the air, my coffee cup and I turn into definite morning material. I read a fellow blogger's entry about Decoration Day, however, and my mind drifted to the days of driving my grandma around so she could decorate her own designated graves. I remember one time driving her about forty-five miles or so with three little kids in the back seat on a hot, May weekday. As she pulled weeds and place flowers in mason jars, she talked of days gone by. I figured those stories would make a good entry, but before I could write anything, I had to get up for a kleenex (you know how thinking back always makes me cry), and that's when I noticed the cat was gone.

Vanished. Off the porch. Not in his usual spot.

You see, Old Man Cat is clawless on his front paws. He's been a pampered indoor cat all his life and as much as he would like to think he could tame the wild, I'm fairly certain he would lose dreadfully on his first go-round with any other four-legged creature, squirrels included. He loves the front porch, though. The back porch is screened-in with a cat's eye view of the little garden pond below that attracts all sorts of birds and the ever-present squirrels of the neighborhood and if all else fails, he will sit out there and contemplate his next move. But, if I'm on the front porch, forget it. He would much rather be there (and I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with me). I think he likes the wide-open feel... nothing to hold him back but the crazy lady who keeps telling him no.

He will usually sit beside me on the swing if he's not stretched out in a luxurious manner in front of me. If that's not to his liking, he'll creep across the porch and try out the sunshine by the rocking chairs. I can always look up from what I'm reading and spot the fur ball on the first- sometimes second- glance. Every now and then, however, he'll pull a fast one on me and slip away. It's those times that my heart will skip a beat or two and my coffee no longer tastes good. That's exactly what happened this morning. That turkey was off the steps before I ever knew he was thinking about it.

So there I was... the funny-looking neighbor lady in a pink, fluffy robe and brown flip-flops wandering the yard calling his name. I looked under the front porch, back porch, and shed porch (we have a lot of porches around here). I knew if I sounded angry he might hunker down and wait it out a while, so I used my sweetest here kitty, kitty voice. I listened to myself and felt something akin to pity- I've got it bad for this cat. The oldest joined me in the search and much to my relief, I finally heard, He's here, Mom. I walked back around front and there he was perched up on the porch like he had done nothing wrong. A quick look under his belly gave him away, though. You don't pick up sand, pine straw, and dry leaves from lounging in the sunshine.

The cat is back inside, the oldest is gone, and my coffee is cold.
And I'm gonna log off for the day before something else comes along.
Mornings, tombstones, and a lost cat. Maybe now that title makes a little more sense. =)

Why I'm Comparing CATS To People, I Have No Idea, But...

I am watching an old cat play with nothing more than a corner of a rug and stray particles of dust dancing in the sunshine. He complains loudly every now and then about his empty food bowl only to return to the task at hand: chasing things that aren't there and cleaning his paws like there's no tomorrow. He's had somewhat of a stressful life (though the husband would say the cat's got it made) and he doesn't get too excited about too much anymore. Every so often, however, you see a spark of what that cat use to be and let me tell you, it brings a glimmer of joy to my heart. Even now he his performing his trademark acrobatic trick to conquer the  feet of the middle as he walks by. Pure bliss.

I think I've pondered before the attitude of a cat. Sure they're moody for the most part and leave no doubt as to who they think is in charge, but their needs are relatively few and once they're satisfied, they really don't complain a whole lot. They prefer the solitude of a window sill to a rowdy group on a street corner (and I have no idea where that comparison came from). At any rate, they are much more relaxing to be around than most people I know.

Oops. I should probably rephrase that. I love being around the people I know.

Just not the ones who complain every Sunday morning that there is not one decent church left on the planet. Really? Or the married ones who drool publicly at every half-dressed member of the opposite sex that crosses their path. Come on, now. That's just tacky and insulting to your supposedly better half. If you must, drool in private at the very least.

Okay, okay. I'll stop with that. This could get ugly quick if it hasn't crossed that line already. Besides, I've got to get ready for my own church service which I happen to love even if it (or the people in it) are nowhere near as perfect as heaven will be...  imagine that. Meanwhile, there's a pair of big, green eyes boring into me, sending me a silent and yet forceful message:

Fill my food bowl and I'll be your friend for life.

I love that old cat.

Over & Out

One week after that awful Friday, I dropped my kids off at the high school for their last day before Christmas Break. They were loaded down with books for their final exams, gifts and cards and cookies for their friends, and big smiles with goodbye waves for their mom. Everything looks brighter on a Friday, especially the Friday before the big winter break. I came home to the local news detailing heightened security surrounding public schools and images of candlelit vigils for lives forever changed last week.

This is why the television is off and my attention drifts between what I think I want to write and the dirt and grime between the keyboard keys. One cat is cleaning his paws while the other cat chows down at the food bowl. I can smell the spice of a candle that's not even lit and hear the howl of the unusual wind currently assaulting our house. If I'm not mistaken, the Christmas tree on our front porch has just blown over again. Fragile limbs and vulnerable pine cones periodically tumble and clang their way down our metal roof.

And I'm going for another cup of coffee.

Even with all the nonsense taking place in our world today, I am excited for this coming week. Although there are few presents under our tree this year (the fewest our tree has ever seen), I can't wait for them to be opened. As I told our kids, this is the year of The Thoughtful Christmas Gift. We surrendered our credit cards, went cash only, and the result has been a pretty much stress-free holiday for the mom. When you've got nothing to spend, there's no sense getting out. When you don't get out, there's no traffic and crowds to deal with. When there's no traffic and crowds to deal with, there's no frustration. You get the idea.

Although I would like to get out tonight.

Even Holly Homemaker needs a break from the Christmas apron.

I'm anticipating a busy week with little time to blog. If the weather and health holds, my parents will be here in a few days and of all the things I plan on doing, sitting at this desk is not one of them. Of course, all that is subject to change pending my mood and computer availability, but just in case...

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. And Everything In-Between.

A Itchy, Scratchy Check-Your-Ankles-For-Bites Flea Tale

For somebody who doesn't seem too interested in what I do, that girl of mine sure keeps up-to-date on my blog posts:

Haven't posted anything in a while, huh, Mom?
I did just the other day, Daughter.
Humph. Guess I missed that one.

I think she secretly admires her mother.

We have been engaged in the Battle of the Fleas at our house. It doesn't happen very often around here, but when it does... whew! Those little pests are hard to kick. I spent my morning yesterday washing and vacuuming and spraying everything in sight while the cats were banished to the screened-in porch. When the kids got home from school, I paid two of them twenty bucks each (payday!) to wash and soak the cats in a Dawn dish soap bubble bath and remove and wash all the furniture on the back porch where they had been hanging out all day. They were glad to do it. I was glad to pay it. I call that a win-win situation.

The flea status as of this morning looks favorable. One cat looks entirely flea-free while the other one (all black) is a little harder to tell. I think I am gonna let 'em back inside to at least part of the house (no bedroom access included). I've got a couple of flea bombs lined up for later this week and I'm keeping that flea killer spray as handy as a six-shooter pistol in a hip holster. I'm wishing I had a walnut tree nearby. When we lived back in the Midwest, my grandma swore by keeping walnut branches (with the leaves) stashed under the furniture to ensure a flea-free home. I don't where she got that idea- maybe my grandpa? -but we lived in the country with a dog and multiple outdoor cats and never really had a problem with fleas.

Sheesh. I can hear the pitiful meowing coming from just outside the backdoor.
Even I can't take that kind of pressure. Release the hounds felines!

I've got my sharp-shooter ready.

The Kittens Have A Home (And It's Not Mine)

Well, I expected today to be a better day, and it did not disappoint.

Three hours were spent in blissful solitude as I sat tucked away in the old curator's office of the museum. My postcard assignment continues and for the most of the morning, I read through fragments of a pre-World War I era. I've said it before and I'll say it again... this is right up my alley. If only a volunteer position could miraculously transform into a paid position, all would be perfect in my world. The husband keeps telling me I should pursue a master's in museum studies and I keep telling him, "If only I were twenty years younger." I don't know. I might apply for entrance into our local university that offers such a program. I might. Things like more loans and oral exams (for acceptance) scare the heck out of me, to tell you the truth.

If only I had a job.

But then again, I was thanking the Lord this morning that I am available to take the kids to school and pick them up; that I'm available to take to them to appointments and not stress about how we're going to get them here or there; and that I look forward (for the most part) to planning meals and cleaning house and doing other mundane daily tasks.

This is the occasional pep talk that always works.

At any rate, I topped off the day with my pre-planned pumpkin spice latte and sat outside in a sticky, ninety-plus degree kind of southern, September day. I thoroughly enjoyed it. At home, my girl sat with me as I sorted through my dresser drawers and closet space (bonding time, she called it) and later served up supper to three teenage boys (of which only one belonged to me). The husband left to get parts for our tired van and I fixed a cup of decaf.

Like I said, a definitely better day.

And, lest I forget, remember our kitten dilemma from a few weeks ago? It turns out that the mama cat-  the cat that we thought was a stray all summer long and ruined our screens and filled our shed with fleas, actually belongs to our neighbor.

Doesn't take a genius to figure out where the kittens are tonight, does it?

Cute & Cuddly & So Not Gonna Keep 'Em

Houston, we have a problem.

Two problems, to be exact.
Two little-bitty, cute, cuddly problems.

Remember the stray cat from a while back?

Just click here for a refresher.

Well, that cat decided to hang around, destroy a couple of our screens, and have babies. Just our luck. These little gals were found inside our shed yesterday with Simba purring happily beside them. She obviously kept them hid from us a while... probably worried about what the crazy red-headed lady would do. Yep, she's definitely a female through and through. She waited a few weeks for them to grow just enough to waddle when they walk and squeak when they meow. Do you know what this does to a crazy red-headed lady? It makes her look like the world's worst mom for even considering a call to the shelter. I'm out-numbered around here, both by cats and people.

But these furry little felines simply cannot stay. We've got two cats in the house, one of which goes insane when she sees another cat outside... not to mention that we would have to bear the expense of getting every one of these ladies "altered" so we wouldn't be going through this kitty-cat drama again in a few months. There's just no way around it. We still have to get the before-mentioned screens replaced. We can't afford any more cat food. No more cats in the house. Do you get where I'm coming from?

Anyone?

Sheesh. I've gone from the crazy cat lady to the mean cat lady.

I hate being that lady.

Eat More Chicken! (Or At Least Learn A Lesson From A Couple Of Cats)

I'll tell you, people never run out of having something to talk about complain about, that is. Between the on-going headlines about the tragedy in Colorado (is anyone else sick of seeing that bright orange hair?) to the recent back-and-forth about Chick-fil-A and their stance on biblical values (including valued opinions [HA!] from Miley Cyrus and the Kardashian clan), I am weary of clicking on any online news link. For that matter, my own facebook page is driving me insane. Come on, people, even my cats get along. They don't always agree... like who should have dibs on the food bowl first... but the older one will wait patiently why the younger, more immature one has her turn. When the more feisty, young one (with claws, mind you) pesters the more laid-back, been around the block more than once, older cat (without claws), the old just watches the young with little interest waiting for her to run out of steam.

Call me crazy, but I think there's a lesson there.

And this entry was just interrupted by my daughter's alarm. She's not even here and yet the sound of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" was playing from her room. I'll have to ask her about that one later. I can never figure out her alarm to turn it off, but I can figure out the yanking of the batteries. I've never been a fan of Christmas in July.

Back to business, though. There is real life happening out there, remember? A good friend of mine had a scare yesterday with her grandbaby-to-be. My husband's grandma is still recovering from a car accident that happened over a month ago. Drought-stricken states are arguing with government agencies about whether or not they can use what corn they do have for food or fuel. Regardless of what mainstream media polls or a late-night-show-hopping president has to say, unemployment is still a big problem. And on a more pressing note, we are having issues with ants and other creepy crawlies in the house. A woman can only take so much, you know.

Meanwhile, families in Colorado are learning what life is like when the cameras and reporters turn their attention to the Olympics and what Team USA will be wearing while they are still minus one at the dinner table. And when it comes down to it, does anyone really care where you get your next chicken sandwich at anyway? I mean, I'm all for Chick-fil-A, hands down. I've always admired their company and Closed On Sunday policy (much like Hobby Lobby), but the real reason I go there is for the service (and well, they do have the BEST chocolate chip cookie ever). I'll be there next Wednesday for the big appreciation day, but I'm there at least one day out of the week anyway. I also like KFC for my Sunday after-church dinner and Wendy's new almond-chicken-berry salad any day of the week.

Yes. I just like chicken.
I also like rainbows in the sky.
And cats that play nice.

Happy Thursday!

Two Cats + One Cat = One Too Many Cats

We came home tonight to find a scrawny black kitten galloping across our yard. The youngest was the most natural target and so now, some two hours later, she is still outside pampering that cat. Although another inside varmint is not in the cards, I wouldn't be entirely opposed to a roaming outsider. I'd bet everything I don't have in my wallet that she comes in with that kitten already named.

*door opens*girl walks in*
You got that cat named yet?
*guilty smile*
Simba.


I am sitting in my usual spot on the couch. There's a laptop in front of me, a nook tablet to my left, and a cell phone to my right. Do I really think I'm gonna miss out on anything? On the television is a rerun of America's Got Talent. It's the same episode from last night. Evidently prime time is running out of ideas. Imagine that.

Ooooh. I guess there is a new one coming on.
I think I'll skip it and head elsewhere.
I'm sure this same one will be playing tomorrow.

Yeah. I must be running out of things to talk about.

Except that graduation is coming up and my parents are driving out next week. The job search continues and the printer went kerplunk today in the middle of a resume. I guess there are lots of things to talk about, but I think we'll save all that for another day.

And if you're in the neighborhood and need a cat, feel free to swing by and pick one up. You're certain to find one curled up on our front porch.

Losing Track Of Time

I looked at the date of my last entry and have been trying to figure out what I have been doing in the past week. I'm thinking a whole lot of nothing... and a whole lot of everything. Know what I mean?

I've been watching what started out as just a few blooms on this tree literally explode with flowers in just a matter of a couple of days. Beauty can be deceiving, however, as we all know. This tree, as pretty as it may seem, stinks horribly when in bloom. The oldest compares the stench to that of wet cement... not pleasant at all. Speaking of the oldest, he is still job searching and watching his savings account dwindle and worrying about his friend, the one we had as a surprise guest not long ago. Her situation has only deteriorated since she last stayed with us and it's hard to look your child in the eye and admit that you don't know what to do about the whole thing.

I've spent a lot of time of the front porch reading schoolwork (see next picture), listening to kids talk, and occasionally letting the cat out. Although we had a lot of rain over the weekend, we thankfully dodged all the rough weather that seemed to envelope most of the nation, the Midwest and eastern half, anyway. The husband is currently in the midst of digging and planning a storm shelter and is bewildered by my insistence that I am more afraid of being underground than I am in the wide open. Personally, I don't know why we have these discussions anyway because I can assure you, I am no fool. I've watched the footage on the news. I've looked at the pictures online. I have no doubt that if our home or neighborhood or county was under an imminent threat of a tornado, my petty fears would vanish and I would be knocking someone out of the way to get underground (sorry, kids).

Here is all that reading I was talking about (ignore the obvious dusting that needs to take place). My nook is buried under everything that must come before it; for that reason it hasn't seen the light of day for at least a week. I am in the middle of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, or maybe the title is the other way around, and I must say that I am not impressed. This is one of those rare occasions when I hope the movie is better than the book. Snore. As far as my schoolwork goes, though, SIX (and a half) weeks left. I received great news last week in the form of a job doing substitute teaching work. I am excited and nervous and scared about the whole college thing coming to an end, but the day I hold that degree in my  hand will be a happy day indeed.

And not to leave out the other cat (you're welcome, daughter), this is where she spends much of her time. Sometimes it's there by choice... that cat loves watching the birds, and sometimes it's there due to a cat-imposed time-out... yes, having this cat is like having a small child in the house. Looking at this picture reminds of something that I devoted an entire day to last week and that was cleaning the screened-in porch. I was reluctant to do so because I noticed the pine trees have the tell-tale signs of what I call baby pine cones. All that means is that in a matter of weeks everything will be covered in a fine, yellow pollen to the extent that even twice-a-day sweepings will not control it.  I never experienced anything like it until I moved south. It's one of my least favorite things of spring.

So I've been busy with cleaning and reading intermingled with lounging on the front porch and just generally dealing with life as it comes. I look at the calendar and find it impossible that we are already five days into the third month of the year. It seems like February was just getting started.

Time flies when you're having fun.

Smelly Choice Of Words

Everybody loves the cat, but nobody wants to clean up the crap.

That was my first thought of the day... well, my first thought when I walked into the kitchen anyway. I was going to use that for a title, but then thought the complete lack of tastefulness might be too much for an otherwise beautiful Sunday (not to mention un-pleasing to my mother). We all love our little (fat) kitty-cats full of fur and sunshine. Unfortunately, I'm the only one~ And I Do Mean The ONLY One ~that makes use of the litter scoop.

Yeah... that's probably more about my life than you need to know.

My actual first thought when I woke up was What is up with these dreams? For the last week or so, I have been having pretty consistent dreams about being in a classroom. In all of them, I am cleaning up or preparing stuff or doing something just to get things ready. Do you think that's a sign? Oh, and I'm usually giving someone a lecture about what they should be doing. Ha! That makes me laugh. Things might be weird or different in my dreams, but I am always true to myself.

Whatever the reason, my daily thought is Come on, Lord. Move somebody out of my way. No, I'm not asking for anyone to be sick or removed tragically or otherwise displaced, but face it... we all know that there comes a time for people to move on, and sometimes those people have a hard time moving (been there, done that). If He is preparing that way for me to move in somewhere, then He has to be preparing to move someone out. Or add something new. I am not going to get caught up in the details.

I've got enough crap to clean up on my own.

Sorry, Mom.  I couldn't resist.

How'd we end up with all these cats anyway?

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

The weather is cold in our neck of the woods today, but like the husband says... cold for us is now any temperature where we can't have the windows open. We've had a fire going most of the day to avoid running the furnace and I'm planning on soup and grilled cheese for supper tonight. It is most definitely a stay-in-kinda-weather day. I think we might pull out some Christmas decorations tonight and if the kids play their cards right, I might treat 'em with some Hershey's hot cocoa.

My three-week visit to the Midwest ended Saturday night when I arrived home to find a very upset cat, a spilled bowl of water that was mixed with litter (some used, some not), and an empty food bowl. Mr. Kitty did not seem to understand that I was not the one who left him in that predicament, but he blamed me just the same. Time heals all wounds, though, and seeing as he is now spread across my feet lazily content, I would say he has forgiven me. Moody cat.

Our job search continues. I am putting in for some substitute work and the husband is drifting back toward law enforcement positions. Between the two of us, we have applied for five jobs in the last 24 hours. Things can get kind of snippy when you have two people who are tired of filling out the same information over and over again. Yesterday was the 19th anniversary of our first date, but I don't think either one of us really cared. We'll celebrate when we get through this.

And get through this, we will.

Thank God for savings.
Thank God for a working fireplace.
Thank God for a happy cat.

Anybody Want A Cat? (just don't tell my daughter)

I've got a cat who won't stay out of the bathtub, a couch full of laundry to fold, and a heart that is heavy. Not a great way to start a Tuesday, but a Tuesday that has been started nonetheless.

Our little cat thinks she's a dog. She plays fetch, acts like she wants to drink out of the toilet, and torments the bigger cat day and night. Even as I write this, those two are chasing each other around the recliner and bouncing off the walls. They are driving me nuts.

Laundry is just laundry. I got a late start on it yesterday and will be paying that price today. Anytime I want to grumble too much, though, I just remind myself that at least I'm not beating our clothes against a rock by the creek. I love my Downey fresh clothes.

And as far as my heavy heart, I'll just leave it at that. Only the Lord knows, and only He can do anything about it. I am really growing weary of this making me stronger stuff.

Is There A Doctor In The House?

In the morning hours before church, my girl torments two cats with a red laser beam. Okay, so torment might be too strong of a word. They love it. How a cat can endlessly chase a tiny red dot around the living room having learned long ago that he (or she) doesn't stand a chance of ever catching it... well, I'm here to tell you it's solid family entertainment.

I am experiencing the woes of the un-insured. Health care, that is. About two weeks before the husband lost his job and our health insurance went out the window, I had went for to the doctor for an infection that you really don't want to hear about. Short of the story? It's back and I am up a creek. The husband has his VA, the kids are covered by the state (yes, we had to go that route), and I have been hung out to dry. I'm hoping to get my own veteran benefits rolling sometime in the future, but for now my hope remains first in Jesus (we had a talk just the other day) and second in an appointment I've got at a free clinic for Friday.

Well, technically it's not free, more of a based-on-your-income type thing. I had called around this past Friday when I was next to miserable. Take any clinic and try to walk in the door without insurance. The cheapest I found was $108 and that was literally just walking in the door. Put into the equation lab work and all that... $200 is a good guess and that's before a prescription. Lord have mercy. I am by no means an Obama fan, but I have had great fun telling my husband that if he would only leave Obama alone, all my health problems would be solved.

And that is a joke.
A really big joke.
But it drives my husband crazy.

I'll just wait till Friday and continue to consume large amounts of water and cranberry juice (figured it out yet?). In the meantime, I am working on schoolwork, watching some football, and anticipating the cooler temps headed our way this week. Labor Day is going to be a wash-out, but I don't know that anyone really cares around here. We are so ready for rain. The forecast last night showed a number I don't think we've seen since March. 80s. Hallelujah. Even my husband did a little jig last night when he saw that. I am ready to throw the windows open and turn off the air. Our screened-in porch needs a good cleaning and a lot of use. I'm ready for pumpkins on the porch, pumpkin bars in the oven, and a pumpkin latte in my hand.

Anything but cranberry.

Hanging On

I've got one cat at my feet and another one sitting on my leg. I'm starting to feel a little bit weird... it's like I sit down and they all start to gather. For the sake of my reputation, we will not be getting another cat.

I typically like Mondays, but I gotta say this one was no good. Yesterday went downhill after church and today was spent recovering emotionally. Yeah. It was that bad. Some days are just lousy.

Now we sit here watching some Japanese game show. Monday night entertainment at its finest. I would prefer something chocolate to add to the mix, but settled for marshmallow cereal instead.

The youngest cooked supper (very good).
The middle is playing guitar (not bad).
And the oldest is washing his truck (in the dark).

Meanwhile, the husband and I are just trying to hang on. Remember I said a month or so ago that September would be an interesting month? Well, things are shaping up for that to be the case.

You all pray for our job situation, would ya?

I really, really like our house. =)

Taking A Nap With The Cat

Ahhhh... the second day of school. The anticipation is no longer there. One kid is upset with me and another kid is just upset with the concept of morning, I think. At least I've got one who is happy. One out of three ain't bad.

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I stopped writing this morning when I determined rather quickly I did not like the direction my thoughts were going. I was going to use that wonderful thing called the delete button, but then decided against it. After all, things are what they are.

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I've spent the better part of the day sitting outside although I'm starting to think that it's getting time to head in to the a/c. The porch has been a nice shady spot that has served my schoolwork well, but things are starting to heat up. Combine that with the fact that even the cat is starting to look miserable in his furry coat... well, I would say he won't mind when I scoot him inside. Besides, he's laying around my feet and it no longer feels cozy. It just feels hot.

In a little over an hour I'll be heading out to pick up two of my three angels (?!) from school. The third one is enjoying his newfound driving privileges. He offered this morning to take the other two to school if I would pick them up. Just trying to help you out, Mom. Help away, Son. I waved goodbye from the front porch while still wearing my bathrobe. I knew this growing-up thing wouldn't be all that bad. I'm thinking, though, that when the realization of an empty gas tank kicks in, he'll be changing his tune. I'll enjoy it while I can.

That crazy cat. I felt him shifting around my feet and peeked over the edge of the chair. All I see is a white belly and feet sticking up and his eyes closed. I know just how he feels. When we head inside, I just might assume the same position on the living room floor. Yep. I am definitely back into my old routine: coffee, cleaning, coffee, school, coffee, lunch, nap. By the time I do get back to work my body (and mind) will probably rebel. This two-year vacation I've been on has turned me soft (okay, call it lazy if it makes you feel better).

My, oh my.

Could this be any more exciting?

Let's head inside, kitty-cat.

Mama needs a nap.



Cat vs. Squirrel

Do squirrels grumble when they're happy or mad, or both? I've got a couple behind me barking non-stop at one another and driving the cat nuts.

Ahhhh... weekend entertainment.

And now the dumb cat is inside. He went barreling off the porch to tackle a squirrel only to pull off a few somersaults in the pine straw.

Guess I shouldn't call him dumb. He's only acting on that built-in instinct of a cat.

Kind of like the hormones of a teenager.
Or the slow moving line that I always pick at the grocery store.

Some things are just gonna happen no matter how much you try to control it or avoid it, if that makes any sense.

He's a mad kitty now.