New Year’s Ponderings

She wondered, “Seriously, where do all these mismatched socks in the laundry come from?”

She sensed the silence sneering back at her, unwilling to divulge her secrets.


Finally, Kitty Wisdom Prevails!

black cat.jpg

We have a kitty. Her name is Jingle Bells. She thinks she runs our house, and that illusion is only upset when she goes exploring at 4 a.m. and starts knocking things off the counters or clawing at the rug in front of bedroom doors. Then it’s out!

Out into the winter cold.

Out into the winter dark.

Out into the winter pine tree that acts as her sometimes condo in the yard.

When she is quiet until 6 a.m., she gets to stay in.

In, where the furnace is running.

In, where the couch is comfy.

In, where her food and water are provided for her.

In, where we love to have her, when she is quiet in the wee hours of the morning.

It seems that finally, this week, our kitty has learned that the cold winter outdoors is connected to jungle behavior in the house. She has finally stopped jumping all over and knocking things off, in favor of maintaining her warm and comfy lifestyle indoors.


I don’t know about you, but I think dogs are much easier to train than cats. Cats think they own us!

Do you have a cat?  Does she stay in at night?


It was widely accepted within their group that she was too much for him. Too much mouth. Too much drama. Too much to-the-point-with-no-backing-off bluntly honest for him to handle. It wasn’t that he was necessarily inept, or weak, or even unintelligent. It was just that he’d never been schooled in the art of manipulation. She was too good, and while he might miss that fact…not see it because of pride blocking his way, it was clear to everyone else. He could not handle her. It was therefore with a look of complete shock on his face that she called him out in the bar.

“You hate me, don’t you?”

Looking around him to be sure she was talking to him before answering, he said, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, I’m talking to you. Do you see anyone else sitting at this bar?”


“Answer the question!” she demanded, much too loudly for him to feel comfortable with her demeanor or the environment in which he now found himself.”

“I wouldn’t say I hate you,” he replied. “I would say that I don’t like how you’re behaving right now.”

“Oh, no?” she said, “and why is that?”

Oh, how he wanted her to go away. He wanted, himself, to melt into the woodwork. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to drink his drink, and more than anything he wanted to tell her what he thought of women who acted like she was acting, but this was not the place for emotional outbursts. He believed civility mattered and that people who let their crazy out in public places were defective. He would have no part of it.

He turned to walk away, but not before she caught the corner of his lapel and pulled his jacket from his shoulder. He jerked right quickly and she fell from the stool, twisting her ankle. All this he’d repeated ad infinitum to the security staff and administrators of the wax museum. The bill for her recasting totaled $3,215.86.

Give It a Rest!

old womn

“Options are important,” she said. “Without them we’d all feel like caged animals looking for a way out, but never finding one.”

Nan shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, I can see what you’re saying, but I’m not sure it’s relevant to my situation.”

“Not relevant?” she answered. “How so? He’s putting up fences, locking you in, with no choices at all. How is that not relevant?”

“I don’t see what Lloyd is doing as restrictive,” Nan countered. “I see it as loving. He knows that I have a problem with decision-making and that given enough time, I can make any mole hill into a mountain of complications. He’s being loving by narrowing my scope.”

“You see that as loving?” Vivian said. “I see that as being controlling and not helping you work your way through the maze that is your indecision. Why can’t he explore some options with you, look at all the alternative, and then help you figure out which of them is the right one for you? Why can’t he do that?”

“It’s pizza and wine, Viv,” she answered. “Pizza and wine, nothing more. Sheesh, can you please give it a rest!”


Pumpkin-Eating Deer


Funny story:  As I was getting ready for work this morning mister pulled open the curtains in the living room and gasped.  He was face-to-face with a deer who was trying to steal one of the little pie pumpkins we had put on the front porch for decorations.  As hubs pulled back the fabric on the curtains, the stealer was trying to get his teeth around the pumpkin stem.  Needless to say, both mister and the deer were shocked and surprised by the other, and only inches apart at the time. The deer broke first and ran away, taking his family with him.

After the initial shock wore off and we laughed about the incident, hubs threw the rotting pumpkins that remained on the porch out into the hay field so the whole deer tribe could enjoy them.  They’ve now become their treat. Last thing I want to do is invite the deer up onto the porch. Can you imagine?  They do crazy things and I do not want that kind of surprise when stepping out the door in the morning.

No thank you!

As for the pumpkin throwing:  Yeah, that guy I married, he’s got an arm on him. Whoa, those things just flew.  I think he could of played for the majors!

He could’ve been a contender!!

First World Problems

Under the heading “Are You Kidding Me?!”, this:

Textaphrenia: A disease found in teens, in which they have heard or felt a new text message vibration when there is no message.

It’s a real thing, people. Look it up!  Ugh!

Here is an example of real trouble:


Giorgos Moutafis/Reuters

When have you been tempted to lament first world problems?  Couldn’t textaphrenia be cured by simply shutting one’s cell phone off?