Like a Rock Star

Maybe like an NPR commentator…star.

I’m no Bret Michaels, but all within 24 hours this weekend, I:

*Made fire which led to s’mores and bad back lit photography. Any fire that leads to s’mores is a good fire. This is a handy guide for evaluating any future fires you may encounter.

Fire leading to s’mores = GOOD

Fire leading to skin graphs = BAD

Fire good, photo bad.

Fire good, photo bad.

*Was bossed around by a 15 pound cat who thinks she is entitled to walks outside. My mom’s calico is accustomed to morning walks in the garden. She knows that once the coffee is percolating, it’s time for a walk. She does a perimeter check, inspects all the chipmunk holes, eats some of her favorite grass so she can enjoy throwing it up later on a carpeted surface, and generally ignores any human urging her to hurry up. She’s wearing a fur coat so she’s unconcerned that it’s windy and 46 degrees unlike those of us who followed her out in socks and pj’s.

I am not the one in charge.

I am not the one in charge.

Not caving to her demands, results in loud, continued vocalization that sounds like, “MEOW-OUT! OUT! OUT! ME-NOW!”

*Ate a fish sandwich while watching it hail on the aforementioned sandwich. Discovered that the perfect reuben has been hiding at the Lowell Octoberfest all these years, but I’ve always gone for the “Fish Special.”

*Discussed snake poop at great length. The snake that has invaded my mom’s work space in the garage has left her 3 different skins and recently pooped on the floor right where she stands to work on projects. She said that the poo contained chipmunk fur and a tooth, but she didn’t even take a picture! Seriously, a tooth! If you poop out a tooth, take a picture. Good grief. I mean, I send her all kinds of pictures of the weird poop I find in my yard!

*I HELD KITTENS!!! Amazing little fat bellied, fit in your cupped hands puffballs that make me wish that I could have met all of my fur babies when they were that little just too see what they looked like. Thelma and Louise were found outside the nursing home where my grandfather is staying. They are living in a small office in the home and are brought out to visit with those that need some furry love. We saw one of the nursing staff transporting them back and forth. Between the staff, visitors, and the residents, these kittens are getting socialized like nobody’s business. They were immediately friendly little purr machines when I picked them up. They were so small and seemed so fragile in comparison to my cats, that I couldn’t even use my whole hand to rub along their tiny spines.



They also have an affinity for WWF Kitten Wrestlin’. At that age they are high energy up until the second they lose consciousness on the spot. Kitten nap. Hopefully they will fit in with the two dogs and caged birds that also reside in the home.

Kitten wrestlin'

Kitten wrestlin’

2 thoughts on “Like a Rock Star

  1. Pingback: Makin’ Copies | possumscatsthingsgnawingatme

  2. Pingback: Spring Break: The Recipes | possumscatsthingsgnawingatme

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