Lee just sent me an email with the subject: "Wait 'til yo mama gets home."
The following pics were attached...
Apparently, I need to keep my stash elsewhere, or secured in a better way. Lee said he didn't see Rico actually doing the deed, but Rico seemed willing to take the credit for it.
Now that we have 3 cats, it is even harder to tell who was naughty. My money's on Sibbie, as she has been known to take all of my skeins of yarn to a different location, as if they were her babies.
However, Rico could be framing her. He's a bit of a wild card, yet.... he DOES hoard toys under our bed.
Murray would NEVER do such a thing. Or is that what he wants us to think?
Murray, too, has an interest in Gone with the Wind. His interest may be a bit more superficial than mine.
I asked Murray why I loved him, and he curled up his little paw and tucked it under. Oh, right. That's why.
Do you do this, too? Start to clean something out, walk away for a "minute" to do something else, come back an hour later and find the mess you made, only now your mess has been made larger by helpful felines? Happens here all the time.
The part of "Helpful Feline" is being played tonight by Rico (aka: Mr. Skitterpants)
I had to clean out my stash tonight. I've got a bunch of made items that do not have a home, and they were taking up valuable real estate, that should have been used for actual stash.
Here is part of the process... (the part where I pull everything out, then walk away and forget I've pulled everything out, then come back and am surprised.)
Helpful Feline 2 is being played by Furry Murray Fuzzy Pants, who took this interesting approach to help me write this blog tonight. He often does this, and I usually wouldn't mind his warm little body on my lap, but he keeps touching my mouse pad and messing me up.
Will Not Be Surprised...
My tendency is to pack very well, and then when I get to my destination, my items explode from my bag. Lee thinks this is humorous.
I THINK he thinks it's humorous, or else he rolls his eyes in his mind. (He's not allowed to roll his eyes at me anymore.) :)
I hope he can live with it, because it appears to be part of my nature. Here's what happened when I got home. (It was worse earlier.)
Also, this happened this morning. We've been gone a week. We had a friend checking in on the cats, but they were ALL OVER US this morning... regardless of what I was trying to accomplish.
Yes, that's Sibbie trying to push my laptop off my lap. She's a jealous one.
We are just choosing to ignore you...
With disdain.
And extreme prejudice.
Rico and Murray have been chasing each other around lately... I think it's a good sign... and Rico's been fighting back, when Sibbie starts batting at his head.
They seem to have an agreement while sleeping. I don't know what kind of negotiations were necessary to set up the perfect equilateral configuration they've got going on. I've only got one question... where are Lee and I supposed to sleep?
Every good story needs a sequel.
Murray, Murray, Murray... this is becoming a bad habit of yours! You're keeping us down! We've got stuff to do!
Oh hi. I haven't been blogging because Lee has been blogging, and I was having a crisis of words. I think Lee was stealing them from me! Pretty sure. Also, I was feeling boring.
I came home from work recently and flopped onto the bed without taking my coat off. Within SECONDS, this happened. That Murray! I think he missed me. Or maybe his natural instinct was to gravitate to the warmest thing, which in this case, was between my shoulder blades.
This is also often why Lee and I can't get out of bed on time. When a 10 pound cat flops on you, it feels like 50 pounds...
Speaking of instincts... I think War is missing the gene for reflexive eye closure. I took about 8 pictures of War with a flash, and he never closed his eyes. If he looks greasy, it's because he was... had his ears cleaned out at the vet.
You can see he seems to be settling right in... sitting in the cat-bird seat. Um, that'd be Murray's spot on the kitty-condo.
Here's how the other cats feel about it... they are less than pleased...
Hissing is decreasing, but Murray and Sibbie are still surprised when they see him. They spend a lot of time watching him.
Lee set the date for last Friday for the Kittens of the Apocalypse to have their kitten-making apparatuses removed. Who's up for corralling some kittens? Friday a.m. found us being outsmarted, outwitted, outplayed by creatures with brains the size of walnuts... but they have EXCELLENT survival skills.
War was no problem. He trusts us, so I just picked him up and stuffed him in a cat carrier. He wasn't happy about it, but didn't make a big fuss. Then Lee set the live trap (after I'd left). He got mauled by Pestilence, by grabbing her without gloves on. Not that gloves would have helped him hold her. He trapped Famine and accidentally let him go. Thought he trapped Famine again, but turns out it was Death, which was surprising, because Death usually watches from afar, and won't eat until we've gone inside. Then Lee didn't want to try to get Death (who was going ballistic in the trap) into a carrier, so he just took the 2 kittens Friday.
Lee picked them up Friday evening, and we put them in a closed off part of the basement. We set up a convalescence area of 2 cardboard boxes on their sides with soft blankets on the bottom. War was just as happy as could be and started exploring right away, although with his tail tucked between his legs. (Well, who can blame him for that!) Death... ah, Death. Death sat in one of the boxes, hunched up, face to the corner, whimpering. It was very pathetic. Eventually, he came out and found a hiding place worthy of Houdini. He and War somehow get up behind the utility sinks... we think they're sitting on the pipes.
No bad smells, as both kittens seem to be using the litter boxes. Score! We'll let Death go after we've gotten the other 2 done. War is probably going to become a permanent resident here. I KNOW... I don't want 3 cats. But he seems to have chosen us, and is very much like Murray in temperament, which makes him an ideal cat. I'm not opposed to giving him away to a good home that won't de-claw. So, he goes into the vet again tomorrow to get him up to "house standards." IE: de-earmited, more shots (we only got the others the rabies).
We're taking the other 2 kittens tomorrow: Pestilence and Famine. I caught Pestilence through great skill and cunning... and, erm, incredible good luck. We kept the cat carriers out on the deck and started putting their food inside. AHHHH... see how clever we are! Pestilence went in with her back to me and I closed the door. I was shocked. She was pissed. She started twirling around like a whirling dervish, banging into the sides. We put her in the basement, still in the carrier, and covered it with a blanket. She calmed down right away.
Lee wanted to keep all the kittens in the basement from now until Spring, since that's only for a "couple of months." I pointed out that it'd actually be 5 (!) months, and that wasn't going to work. We're a little worried about their survival, but they've been well-fed for months and will continue to be, and they've got shelter (under decks in 2 yards) and each other. We're thinking about what other kind of temporary shelter we could give them.
So that's our kitten saga for now. I was balking at the cost of neutering "strays", but Lee said "You can't put a value on life." Well, shoot. It's not like I can argue with that statement. I mean, if it was between my kids and cats, well, I'd choose appropriately. (The kids, of course!)
There have always been cats and kittens living in and around our backyard. We don't really mind as long as they don't poop in the lawn. In June, a kitten got up in the wheel well of our car. Great. We coaxed it out with food. Soon this kitten was hanging around our house. It was teeny tiny, and CRYING, so we fed it. (You wouldn't think it was teeny tiny judging by Sibbie's -one of our indoor cats- reaction. When she saw it outside, she tried to climb the windows, much to our amusement.)
A couple of weeks later, another kitten showed up. We can't remember if it was the all black one in the wheel well or the black with white feet. Anyway, we started occasionally feeding these two kittens. We knew they were probably off-spring of Senor Botas (whom I wanted to name Mr. Boots, but we couldn't, because we don't like such obvious names for cats... so we named him Senor Botas, or, in Spanish, "Mr. Boots"), who was black with white feet, and was born last year behind our neighbor's garage.
Suddenly, it was as if every cat we saw near our house was black with white feet. So, we named the big one Bass, the medium one Alto, and the kittens, of course, were the Sopranos. Ha ha.
It took us awhile to cotton onto the fact that there were indeed THREE kittens... one black with white feet, and TWO black ones. Ah ha... that's how they could seem to be everywhere. We can now tell the black ones apart because one is very bold, and will look at you like you owe him something.
I kinda got used to the Sopranos hanging out with me in the garden. Sometimes Alto would be there too. I think they were still being weaned at this point, because we weren't giving them more than a treat every once in awhile. One day, I saw a pile of kittens sleeping in the sun. There were the 2 black ones, the black with white one, and... a tortoise shell one. What the?!
4 kittens. I admit that we made a tactical mistake here. We started putting food out regularly. The mama (Alto) came a couple of times with all the kittens, but then she stopped coming. (Oh, and did I mention the pregnant Alto2 that had been hanging out too?) Now the 4 kittens hang out on our deck and we feed them every day. So, yes, we are chumps. Since they let us get close, we'll probably get them fixed when they're old enough. I think we've reconciled ourselves to the fact that we've got 4 outdoor cats now.
Oh, and we decided on new names for them today... since there are 4 of them. Pestilence, Famine, War, and Death. We'll probably change their names again when the mood strikes.
Check out pics of them on the left.... and tell me, what the heck would YOU do in a situation like that? Please, no haters.
Anyone know how to get melted CAT out of the carpet? Anyone?
Hmmm... maybe opening a can of tuna would do it...
"It's so hot, it could melt a cat."
That's a saying, isn't it?
Isn't it?
I have found new love with this project. The colors are not as hideous as they appear in this picture. I love my camera, but it doesn't do so well at night, indoors.
It is a French Market Bag from Knitty.com. I saw it on this website, which you should really check out. Lene's is so very classy, mine is using up my stash. I, of course, mis-read the instructions, so let's just say, I'm making a design change... whoopsie.
I told you about how Murray personally inspects each piece of knitting. I turned my back for a second and look what I found. He managed to sit on the WHOLE thing, AND was still able to take a nibble at my needles. Ha ha, Murray, they're metal, not bamboo.
You know, quality control has really gone to the dogs lately. (Or to the cats. Ha ha.) I bought this 6 pack of paper towels, but there was a soft, fuzzy surprise inside.
It may seem like I take more pictures of Murray than Sibbie. I guess I do, but it's only because Sibbie almost always looks peevish for pictures. I can only get good ones of her when she's sleeping. Here, they're both looking peevish with their helicopter ears, but there was just a territorial dispute over who got to be in the bag. Eventually Murray vacated and Sibbie was able to "hide" in the see through bag. See picture below.
Everybody needs a Murray. How do you all knit without a Murray? He is so very helpful. He stretches out his little paw and "chirps" to remind me to rest my wrists a moment to pet him. Isn't that thoughtful?
Here, I'm working on the baby kimono. I finished the increases for the sleeves, then started the straight knitting. After a few rows, it became clear that one sleeve was longer than the other. Blast! (I blame StarGate SG-1, Season 8) However! Score one for the home team, because I was able to pick up the stiches a few rows down, with NONE of them being twisted and ALL of them accounted for. Go me.
So, here's a pic of the kimono with both sleeves being the same length. Ok, except you can't tell because I cut one off in the picture. Duh. You'll just have to trust me that I can count. Eventually. :)
Lee has been wanting a new guitar for awhile. He's had his old one for 9 years now. There's nothing "wrong" with the old one, except it sounds bad when plugged into a sound system. It did not come with the pick-up originally. It sounds fine when played "unplugged," but even I could tell it sounded bad at church. So... here is Lee's new baby. I know nothing about guitars. It's got a hand rubbed oil finish on the front, so it smells good. I had him play the new one, then the old one to see if I could tell the difference. I said "Well, I don't know if it's the smell or what, but I think it sounds better than the other one." It's a Martin, if that means anything to you all... I'm told it does. I've heard of them.
Ah, Murray... just when I thought he only had ONE or TWO talents, I discover more... and these are just in the last couple of hours!
Here he is holding my fabric down. JUST IN CASE. It isn't particularly windy in the room, but YOU NEVER KNOW.
And here he is Sorting Laundry. I think that's what he's doing, anyway. You can't hear the purring in the picture, but it was there. This laundry basket is about 3' high... he jumps up and over and baskets himself. To get out he has to climb the inside until it falls over. (He jumped into the garbage can once.... hilarity ensued... for US... he was not happy, and looked over his shoulder at us with the look that said he considered it OUR fault.)
Sibbie, the demon cat, stalking us from under the TV stand. It was hilarious watching her get under there... she must have been through basic training with the Navy Seals.
Murray "helping" me wind yarn. It's good to have helpers.
Miters are all the rage. I was so enthusiastic about them a couple of days ago. Now on my 8th one, I'm losing steam. I'm trying to use up all my random leftovers of Nature Spun wool. I'd guess I'm about 3 blocks away from having used up that stash. My wrists hurt from the straight needles, I think. 
Murray approves in the only way he knows how... by rolling on them, sitting on them, and then, as a final seal of approval, cleaning his heinie on top of them. Ew.
Chris - here
Lee - absent, but back tonight! :)
Murray - here
Sibbie - here
mouse - here
Wait? What? Murray woke me up at 5 a.m. hissing and growling. That can only mean one thing... a mouse cowering in my undies... the undies that ALMOST made it into the laundry basket... not the undies on my person. Just so we're clear.
Lee did not want me to put the poison out in the room where cats can't get to, so I didn't, but this Seek and Destroy method of the cats isn't working for me. (Actually, it's more of a Seek and Play method.) Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have the cats alert and interested... kind of... but maybe I'd rather not know. Shudder.
Anyway, the mouse is still somewhere in the house. Murray thought it went up on the little shelf in our closet. I'm hoping it went out of the closet, because if it didn't, that means it has climbed up in our clothes. Gah. I didn't check it out too closely. Did I mention that Lee will be home tonight, and I have officially deemed it "His Problem" ?
