I’m having on of ‘those’ weeks. Not all over the place – just in the blog world. It’s a week when everyday, several times a day, I think, “Man, I got nothing.” No great tales to share. No stupendous events to babble about. No amazing lessons to be forwarded.
Granted – the last event was the loss of our cat – and I’m fine without another one of those. Thank you all for your kind words – I’m happy to report that the folks seems to be doing well and, rumor on the streets is…they might be on the hunt for the next member of the family.
Oh, wait – there’s a story.
Mom accidentally hopped on Marley’s Cats website. If you’re in this area, you’ve probably heard of them. They are one of the many rescue groups that hock their animals on the local news station during the lunchtime report.
Yeah, so Mom looked on the site and saw the cutest little guy just begging her to submit an application.
Now you should know that being a pet in my parent’s house is very, um, un-pet-like. It is very much like living in a furry Shangri La with full access to just about anything. I mean, they do have limits. I’m just not sure if anyone knows what they are.
This means when I go camping with them and I set up my pull out bed – I start out the night with plenty of relaxing space. Until three seconds later when I am joined by a collie. Collies are not small dogs. Then three more seconds later, I am joined by another collie – who, upon seeing the first collie in bed, turned a little green with jealousy. And therefore decides just getting in the bed isn’t really enough – she also has show who the better snuggler is. Did I mention the size of these dogs? So, I generally spend the night squished between two big furry butts. I should also mention that my parent’s motor home is not small. Which means there is actually plenty of floor space for said dogs. But see…who would really say ‘no’ to such big teddy bears. And even if you did say ‘no,’ – all you’d get is a tremendous feeling of guilt when the dog looks up with these sad, pitiful, “Did you want to hear about my last life?” eyes.
Right. You get the picture. If you want to be reincarnated, make sure it is to come back as an animal in my parent’s house. You will have full access to beds, couches, dog beds and laps (no matter what your size). You will be given intricately designed meals courtesy of Chef Bo – and if you aren’t so hungry at meal time, you will be given many other chances throughout the day for a snack.
So back to Marley’s Cats.
My folks are a shoe in to adopt a pet, right?
My mom got denied like a teenager in a bar. Their reason? That if she couldn’t adopt two kittens, she couldn’t have one kitten. This may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. My mom didn’t want two kittens. She wanted one kitten. To keep the same combo of animals that they’ve had for years.
But the rescue thought that two kittens was better because then the kittens would have each other to bond with. Hello? Have these people ever had pets? The whole point is that they bond with their owners. That’s what makes them pets, I believe, and not just a pack that got sidetracked from the forest.
Isn’t the whole purpose of a rescue to place animals in wonderful homes? From the minimal details I’ve already given you – do you not think this is a wonderful home? Never mind that animals in this household get to explore the world by motor home travel. I don’t know a single kitten out there that wouldn’t give up bonding with another kitten in order to gain a few stamps on his Passpurrrt.
No need to start mailing kittens to us. One will turn up eventually (unless you have a Siamese type kitten at your house that you want to send to Eden, in that case, mail away).
Moving on. You’ll all be thrilled to know that I got picked up by a guy at the grocery storelast weekend. This was after my botched gym trip – where I didn’t realize they closed at 1pm. I realized I was the only person actually working out and for a glimmer of a second thought, “Man, I’m hard core.” Moment destroyed when they asked if I wouldn’t mind leaving.
Since I was starving – I went next door to Lowe’s to get two things: Milk and a Cantaloupe. Here’s why you don’t go to the store after the gym. I went through the line with a ball of fresh Mozzarella, a pre-made sandwich, salad from the salad bar, a bag of apples, a bag of bananas, Oreos and a whole watermelon. What single girl buys a whole watermelon? I love watermelon. But I haven’t even made a dent in that thing. In the meantime there is watermelon juice on every surface of my kitchen because I also can’t control it.
And while at Lowe’s – a young chap came up to me to see if he could get to know me better. In the grocery store. While I was covered in sweat. And my hair was plastered to my head. And there may have been an odor. Could have been flattering, but he was wearing a Dallas Cowboys shirt. And may have been just over the legal age. Still – I do have his email. I just haven’t used it.
I’m in my summer lull right now. I’m in that span of time prior to vacation – where I’m all excited about vacation and it can’t get here fast enough but I don’t have enough stuff going on to make time fly. I’m not really even close enough to vacation to start packing (something happened to my need to pack months ahead of time).
No, I’m not going international this year – just down to the beach for a week with most of the family. We’ve already got our reservation on the Deep Sea Fishing boat so I can once again demonstrate my prowess for catching anything and everything that is under four inches long.
This year we are chartering a boat for some privacy. It even has a fight chair. Which is dandy because, oh, wait – I’ll probably never use it. OR, keep checking back because maybe this year I’ll have a picture of myself hold something gigantic. And I don’t mean the side of the boat while I’m in the midst of sea sickness.
So while I wait for vacation, I’ve been watching the days drag by. I generally mess up my Fourth of July plans because work is so crazed the days before that I think all I’m going to want to do is lay around and recover.
But then by the second day of recovery, I’m bored out of my mind and realizing that I never checked in with any of my friends to see what they were up to. And if they wanted me to be up to it with them.
That being said – I did get some things done. Vacuumed. Cleaned the kitchen fairly thoroughly. Bought a pile of landscape timbers from Lowe’s to outline the front mulch beds. Cleaned out the back beds and planted some flowers (okay, yeah – I know it’s already July and I’m only about two months behind on that one).
The problem with most of these projects is that I totally overestimated how long it would take to do any of them. I do this all the time with vacuuming – it may be how I avoid it. I think, “Oh man, I gotta vacuum, but that’s going to take hours…so I better wait for a holiday weekend.” Then I get to it and it takes under twenty minutes.
Same thing with the flower beds. Planned time…three hours. Actual time…less than one.
Same thing with the landscape timbering. Planned time…six hours or so. Actual time…under two.
So that’s how I ended up with way too much free time and a bit of an addiction to Words with Friends.
And also how I ended up with just about nothing to talk about in this blog.