Oliver decided to sleep in The Boy’s arms last night. I mentioned to Oli that not everyone likes to breathe through a fur filter. He turned up the volume of his purr and pretended not to hear me.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
On my way home from work every day I see a house that reminds me there’s one thing that was on my must have list for a house. One glaring absence in an otherwise perfect home.
When I first move to Cheyenne the house I rented had a sun porch. Oh, how Poco and I loved that porch. In the winter it was “out.” This would be a great time to mention that we moved to Cheyenne in March so we’re lucky that March and April are still winter here. In the summer it was a cool place to read in the outside breeze but it was inside so I had a comfy chair.
Also? I planted tomatoes in a pot in April. By the time I bought my house in August they were more than six feet tall and we had to bungee cord them to the ceiling of the moving truck. I haven’t had garden success like that since I raised (possibly homicidal) pumpkins with attachment disorder during my senior year botany class.
Anywho, I’ve missed having a sun porch at my house and now we don’t have one here. Only five kabillion windows and an awesome porch that we’ll enjoy. Someday. If it ever stops snowing.
What makes me think about it, though, is people who are ALMOST as good at cat servitude as me. Their sun porch furnishing consist of two kitchen chairs. One always has a cat in it. Usually she’s laying down. Sometimes she’s sitting. There was one time that she wasn’t there and I almost crashed my car. The other chair, I assume, is in case a person needs an audience with the cat. Perhaps they could discuss why that chair doesn’t have a cushion!?! Seriously, people, a cat on a hard wooden chair? The cat-manity.
Today is my birthday and Kitten Thunder has enjoyed my presents very much. Their favorite present? The cardboard string that came off the FedEx box.
It. Is. Awesome.
And that’s all I have to say about THAT.
Happy, happy, happy cake and candles to you! Your card is in the mail – went yesterday. PLEASE do not have a heart attack because you have not gotten a card from me in a bazillion years. When you see the card you will know why you got one this year. Do not, however, expect one every year – I can’t take the pressure. Shmily!
Cards are so hard. No pressure from me.
“([P]ossibly homicidal) pumpkins with attachment disorder?”
That’s all we’re going to get? Who/what was (allegedly) murdered?
You don’t remember my pumpkins from Mr. Andersen’s class?
Happy birthday! I’ve never encountered a homicidal pumpkin, but most plants under my care turn out to be suicidal.
Happy Happy Birthday! And I also need to know about these pumpkins… I will trade you the tale of my neighbor’s belligerent plant?
Happy Birthday! You’ve just reminded me to water my seeds!
Okay. Thursday we’ll tell the tale of the homicidal pumpkins.