Category Archives: our furry overlords

When One Day She Said To Me

Posted by Tata on

Someone small literally ate his way across my garden, after which I'm sure he was quite full.

Last night, Pete discovered wet carpet in our bedroom, puzzling because he could determine no source of moisture. We cleaned it up and scratched our heads. At 7 this morning, we heard a ruckus and found Sweetpea horking up a storm. I cleaned it up and frowned a bit. This afternoon, we returned home to find Sweetpea cooling off under the sideboard. I was talking to Mom when I heard the unmistakable sounds of impending cat yakkitude, but I turned around and found a disturbingly large puddle of existing yak. “Mom,” I said slowly, “I gotta go.” As I cleaned it up, I discovered the goo was clear and bright yellow. I got out the book I turn to first: The Natural Cat. I read every description of puke and called the vet. He did not seem alarmed and asked me to give her 1/2 teaspoon Pepto Bismal.

Sweetpea wore at least as much pink bismuth as she swallowed, but then she and I sunned ourselves on the porch and she let me brush her smooth. Later, she quit hiding and curled up on our bed. That cheered us up a little, though we could see Sweetpea felt like crap and wouldn’t drink water. We never saw her pad upstairs to the litter box either. An hour ago, we gave her water flavored with the cat gravy Georg recommended keeping on hand for kitty emergencies. I wore as much watery gravy as Sweetpea drank, but she’s lounging on a window sill now. We’ll give her some more water before we go to bed and hope for a quiet night. I’m trying to stay calm and think clearly. In her role as Narrator, Topaz keeps trying to tell me something.

And Your Blood Will Sing

Posted by Tata on

Topaz and Drusy approve our yarn purchase. We have enough for at least a month's blankets.

The weather finally turned today and I bicycled to work again. It’s been nearly two weeks of wild rainstorms, showers, dry lightning and mud everywhere. The garden is practically singing. In related news, I found a supplier of locally grown rhubarb and tomorrow I’m going to dehydrate a bunch. This might not seem all that exciting, but I feel inspired, damn it! I don’t know about your evening plans but I’ve got grapes tonight that I hope will be raisins tomorrow. Cha cha cha! School’s in and I’m at the head of my class.

Who Just Crumbles And Burns

Posted by Tata on

Topaz is curled up in my lap. She and Drusy came to live with me a little over four years ago now. It’s been about sixteen months since prickly Topaz threw caution to the wind and climbed into my lap to cuddle. After awhile, it’s time to get over what was, what we did, who we might have been. If Topaz can, I can, too. Today, I looked up the video for Fake Plastic Trees, which I’ve never seen.

For fifteen years, the memory of this and and depression were enough to turn me inside, but not today. I waited for a feeling of familiar devastation that didn’t come. Waited. Waited. Nothing! Then I felt stupid for expecting to feel small and broken.

Well, whaddya know: I might be over it. Whaddoo I do now? If I am free, this is a new life.

A Forest Than A Street

Posted by Tata on

Drusy is so adorable your heart could stop.

About a week ago, our kitchen fridge started making a heeeeee haaaa heeeeee noise, not unlike Felix Ungar’s hinky sinuses. Pete whacked it a few times and unplugged it. We moved everything into the now-packed spare fridge in the basement, so it wasn’t a crisis, but running down and up the stairs was hard for me. Pete’s dad owns the house, but he was visiting relatives on the other side of the country and not fridge-shopping. Even though we had stuff to do, lives to lead and influence to peddle, we put those nefarious deeds mostly on hold and spent our evenings hunting for a deal. A treasure hunt through appliance stores can be exciting if you’re into it, but staring at ice machines makes for shitty blogging. Last Friday, Pete and his dad bought a fridge. It was delivered today and is cooling off now. In a bit, I’ll start moving things from the basement to the kitchen. As problems go, this one was small and annoying, but time-consuming and attention-hogging. Putting it behind us will be a pleasure.

The cats freaked with people in the house. Their fur stood on end and they went Full Kitty Invisible for a couple of hours. I later found Sweetpea in a spot behind the couch where I’d looked for cats and did not find them, but Topaz and Drusy’s hiding spots remain mysterious. As I write, Topaz crouches on the dining room table, blinking slowly at me. The noise and the hubbub were too much for them, which makes them cuddly and suspicious now. Sweetpea snores softly on the couch and Drusy crunch-crunch-crunches kibble in the new quiet of the kitchen.

To Step Out Into the Dark

Posted by Tata on

Mama, don't take pictures of me where the only measure of perspective is your own rack.

I could quit my job and still not have enough time to read everything I’d like to about food. Facebook offers a pile of nostalgia crap – no, I do not really need to see the same pictures from high school Class of 1456 ten thousand more times – but it can also let me find people who survey the food blogs and point to interesting projects. I’m about to toss out used jar rings with rust spots, clean and reorganize my storage shelves and put my supplies where I can use them. This is not an interesting project, so I’ll leave you out of that, but I will document tidy results because cleanliness is next to impossibleness and when a miracle occurs, someone should be standing nearby with a freaking camera.

It’s been a long time since my brain fired on several cylinders. It’s fantastic, being brainy. Spin this 45, baby:

Tata: Smart is a great feeling.
Dad: What does feeling smart feel like?
Tata: Smart feels like you can see in every direction.
Dad: You can see in every direction. I have to think about that.
Tata: Yep. Think of traveling with the light of the lghthouse on a foggy night.
Dad: Not being the lighthouse?
Tata: Nah, they just stand around lookin’ purty.

At the moment, I can’t see the screen without reading glasses, but I’m optimistic. I think I can learn more about simple techniques this weekend. I feel like light.

Don’t Say That You Love

Posted by Tata on

A little while ago, Topaz did this strange thing where she started chirping oddly. Topaz talks a lot and pretty clearly for a person disguised as a 6lb. black cat, so I asked her what was going on.

Tata: Hey, Topaz, what’s going on?

Topaz chirped, bounded in a circle and went to the bottom of the stairs. Pete caught on.

Pete: Open the doors upstairs. Drusy’s locked inside somewhere.

When I opened the third door, Drusy gave me a look like my necklace was in her cosmo and sailed downstairs to the living room. That’s how long it took her to forgive me, but it was a painfully long fifteen seconds. It’s your turn to forgive me. I’ve got a project to prepare. You’ll see it soon. For the moment, know that I still find you captivating.

Army Had Just Won the War

Posted by Tata on

Drusy keeeeeesses me.

While I’m typing, Drusy walks across my keyboard and finds the other side of me is not more to her liking than where she started, so she walks back. That side does not excite her so she walks back, but again she is not satisfied and again steps across the keyboard. And walks back. She flops down lightly with the front half of her six-pound body leaning on my return key. Whatever I was typing has been launched up the page as my cursor plummets to the bottom, but Drusy’s eyes are so green I don’t remember what I was writing anyhow. She rests a hand on my arm so I hang on her every word.