Well -- That Didn't Take Long. . .

Robert left this afternoon to go pick up a friend of his from the airport about 11 minutes ago.

What's significant about "11 minutes", you ask ?

Well, I'll tell ya.

Approximately TEN minutes ago, Scooter brought in another DANG BIRD.

This one was still breathing, thank goodness, so he's now ensconced in the cat carrier next to our fireplace that only has the pilot light going. (I wanted him to be able to warm up, not have roasted tweety bird, after all.) Scooter was plied by a liberal administration of the kitty treats he loves best, so I am not perforated, either.

Anyhow, this is yet another post that demonstrates my husband's unique and absolutely mystifying sense of timing.

Thoughts ?

Update: Please play taps on the nose flute. Bird decided to squeeze out of the carrier holes while I was in the shower for five minutes and Scooter made sure that the bird won't do it again. I have sent the bird to the Great Feeder in the Sky in one of my soon-to-be-patented Ziploc bird coffins. (With extra spearmint as greenery.)

Weird Things that Happen At My House

"I'm a deadly spoon ninja."

*crash - from the living room*

Two small white & black bullets follow their chosen escape route up the stairs as quickly as huma. . . err. . . *cattily* possible.


Cats have tipped over the Christmas tree. Again.
Ornaments are scattered about on the floor. Again.

We took a moment to de-skew the tree and threw the skirt on.

Now that the tree is again upright. . . it has lost all its interest for them. Either that, or the adrenaline surge from the fear that Momma might be going to tie them together by their tails in a winner-take-all death cage match might, *might*, have tuckered them out.

Stay tuned for the further adventures of. . . WILD (Giffords) Kingdom.

Thoughts ?

Random Thoughts Late at Night

I'm sure that this has been fully explored in the intellectual musings of the Austin Powers trilogy, but. . . have you ever noticed that the villains in every action movie are always the ones that are totally Type-A and punctual ?

The heroes, on the other hand. . . are usually late. This comforts me a little. =D



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Yes. This means that christmas cards will be going out late this year -- again.

Thoughts ?

And, Yes -- I Know That I Have Been Neglecting the Blog

Blame Santa.

Or the elves.

(just don't tell 'em I said so)

Thoughts ?

What Makes a Cat Dig In a Basket on Top of the Fridge ?

Well, I'll tell you this -- it took about two weeks to find out. 13 days and 23 hours to chase him off the refrigerator repeatedly and about 15 seconds to identify the open bag of teriyaki-flavored beef jerky on the floor when Robert and I came back in from Christmas shopping the other day.

See ? Scootah not stoopid.

*sigh*

Thoughts ?

Well, I Went And Voted. . .

for the lesser of two evils.

And that is all I will ever say about it.

Thoughts ?

Kismet + Big Paper Shopping Bag with Handles. . .

equals equal parts loud hilarity, cat panic, and utter clutter disaster on the stair landing.

Plus a kitty hiding underneath our bed for about an hour (which, for her, is like 7 3/4 months in purgatory.)

Momma ? I know you know what this looks/sounds like.

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Anyhow, I keep all the kitty toys in a big paper shopping bag in the corner in our bedroom. They have been there for months because it's easy to grab something out of there, play with the kitties, and then just toss it back in the sack when they get tired.

A couple of nights ago, Kismet apparently got a little curious about the toy smells in that lovely bag. (She loves bags of any kind, paper, plastic, suitcases, whatever, so this wasn't really a concern. Evidence below. =D) She nosed around and made the bag crackle but, again, this is pretty normal behavior.

What ended up being our first indication that something might be wrong was a small, sleek, black LIGHTNING BOLT -- fleeing for her life out of our bedroom, dragging the sack WITH HER. She had gotten her head stuck inside one of the handles and was skedaddling as fast as her four little paws would go.

All we heard was the sack rustling behind her and the thumpity-thump of terrified feline. And then -- we heard the crashing. Up and down the stairs. Smashity-whack, thumpity-run.

Before I could stop and figure out what just happened, she reappeared in the bedroom, again at a dead run. Again, with the sack still ON HER. CHASING HER ! Eeeee.

She came to rest, hiding underneath our bed, having ripped the handle OUT OF THE BAG. Bag was underneath the bed with her, but she was SAFE. Phew !

It took us another ten minutes to quit laughing DIRECTLY at her, even after we made sure that she was okay (no bones broken, no blood, everything intact except her kitty pride.)

Poor baby. *snort*

I felt terrible for her -- at least until I saw EVERY TOY THEY OWN scattered to hell and gone all over the landing AND STAIRS. Yeah, that took a while to clean up.

Thoughts ?