Yup. Thankful. Thankful for all the things and people and ideas.
However I’m also thankful to have learned where deer come from. They emerge fully formed from cats’ butts. Tilly is like a Tardis: bigger on the inside.
I’ve not so much learned as confirmed that my family’s taste buds’ adventure levels have not changed much. They like their ice cream vanilla; and if my sister orders a plain sandwich, that is what she fucking means. Meat and bread! Things like cheese and mustard are for crazy bitches! I will give them credit that in recent years, they have expanded their taste palettes and willingly add sour cream, cheese, and some garlic to the mashed potatoes. However me wanting to do the same thing, but with PURPLE POTATOES! was too much. Everyone took a teeny tiny bite and now I am the proud owner of purple mashed potatoes. (They tasted great and were soooooo pretty!)
Cats don’t appreciate disco balls. This was our big Black Friday (shop local) purchase specifically to entertain GGK and Tilly. UN. IM. PRESSED.
My cats are excited when I get home after being gone for days. When I got home, Birdie just kept staring at me. I’d open doors, come around corners, and there she would be with her huge dilated eyes. At one point I asked her, “Are you high? Are you in pain?” Nope. Just happy.
Good to know.
The best holiday is over and it’s time to clean up. Three perfectly good pumpkins to nibble on, and my squirrels extracted all the vanilla scented candles.
Although their positioning for this one was pretty hilarious.
We tried revisiting the pumpkin photo shoot, but per usual the felines are awful models.
Birdie was as obsessed with sniffing the pumpkin cat’s butthole as she is with sniffing everybody else’s.
I tried keeping my models a little hungry, but added in some catnip and strategically placed treats. That backfired.
Sookie refused to even remotely get involved. “Nope. Just nope.”
Olivia sort of participated, but her eyes ask, “What the cat shit are we doing? And when’s dinner?”
This was probably the best shot-Thanks, Miles-, and we are officially done with Halloween for the year. Now I just need to figure out the Christmas cards.
I knew I had waited too long to buy pumpkins when I found that someone appeared to practically be living in them. The cashier told me that they had live-trapped a raccoon in the garden center that week. My concern, of course, was the two cats that roam the store. Everybody’s okay though including the raccoon.
Halloween snuck up on me. I realized the weekend before that I hadn’t even thought about carving pumpkins which is something I really enjoy doing. Life skills: gourd art. Typically, I steer clear of anything that seems to originate in the evil realm of Pinterest, but I did see this idea online and …well…it’s my life.
Successful pumpkin carving requires good Halloween based shows or movies although there was a point when I really wondered if I should be holding a knife and watching something with so many “jump scares.” I made it through the extended “Murder House” episode of American Horror Story’s latest season. Not bad in terms of jumpiness, but I am definitely being bullied by “mean girls” in my class that are annoyed that I am always an episode or two behind them. They want to talk about it now! They are not going to be happy to hear that my DVR shit itself last Wednesday and didn’t even record the next episode.
Since Halloween seems to be the only horror movie that any channel will air, I headed to Netflix. I’ve seen all the variations of House on Haunted Hill and read the related Shirley Jackson book, so I was drawn to a new series The Haunting of Hill House. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Don’t watch this with a pumpkin carving knife in your hand. Do watch it alone on your couch in the dark. I only lasted two episodes that night because it was late, and because episode 2 had me sobbing to a point my stomach hurt. Warning: box of haunted dead kittens.
***Side note: This isn’t just a cat thing. I HATE it when the horror genre brings in animals, whether it’s the family’s pet or just a random stray who wanders on screen or that fucking horse in season 5 of The Walking Dead. It is always gruesome, upsetting, and completely unnecessary to the plot line. Stephen King, I’m lookin’ at you too.
Most of my usual work supervisors went to bed although I was able to pique Birdie and Olivia’s interest with some strategically placed treats. I may have to try again for our usual cats vs. pumpkins photo shoot.
My favorite photo is the tongue action in this shot. Happy Halloween!
I can’t stop crying. She just keeps quoting Samuel L. Jackson something about striking me down with furious anger.
Do you mean FUR-ious anger, Bird?
Birdie’s obsession next to my comforter.
This pose requires a strap. Twist head and front legs in the opposite direction of back legs. Strap may appear to come out of butthole.
Curl around block. Close eyes and acknowledge your breaths. Extend front legs for full possession.
Roll, stretch as long as possible, spread toes claws extended. For an extra deep stretch fold ears back.
End on flat tummy.
Wrap self in blanket. Firmly grab remote. Extend hand. View latest episode of The Walking Dead.
The Target $1 bin never fails to amuse me. I know Birdie is grateful I shop there.
Tragic Unicorn is her look.
A herd of unicorns stampeding through my kitchen was just what the end to an exhausting day called for.
You can almost hear their tiny hooves.
However every story needs a little drama so I threw a shark into the herd.
Cue the music from Jaws as he scans the depths for treats!
duunnn dunnn… duuuunnnn duun…
duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn dunnnn
No! Birdie, look out there’s a shark!!!!
Shark: “Nope. I’m not messing with her. Movin’ on!”