Woman’s Work

I have horrible posture. Horrible.

I can try to remember to stand up straight and sit straight at the beer or dinner table, but at my desk… Horrible.

Not wanting to be hunchbacked by 50, I decided a kneeling chair was worth trying. It’s really hard to slouch on a kneeling chair.

It arrived this afternoon. The Boy is at work.

Obi inspected the elements as I went to find a screwdriver. Tools? Maybe we should wait for The Boy, the brown kitten suggested. This looks like man’s work.

Pish, I said. I mentioned that I owned a home before The Boy. I lived alone. I built my last desk. Oliver flipped his ears back, remembering the cussing, crying and bloodshed of that night.

If I was going through with this, they would supervise… From a distance.

All I had to do was bolt the pads onto the frame and put on the casters. It took ten minutes and I only mushed my fingers once. Okay, twice.

Once I left the room, they inspected my work.

We’ll see, they said. But maybe The Boy should check it when he gets home.

***

In case you’re wondering, I’ve been sitting in the chair while I wrote this blog. And I’m sore already, but it’s the sore of a person who doesn’t use her back muscles to sit up straight. I’m optimistic.

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Shelving your birthday plans

It’s my birthday and we’ve celebrated Thunder style. First, a birthday snuggle.

Then I was allowed to get a pedicure.

On my way home, I received a text from The Boy. Obi was supervising from the ironing board.

I got home to see the fruits of his supervisory labor.

New books shelves for the reading nook!

And now, a bonus snuggle from Oliver.

Happy birthday to me.

Why I Have Such a Big Data Plan

Oliver has been sleeping on the cat shelf, enjoying smell-o-vision, all day. So when he came down at 5:04 p.m. and I told him I was still working, he let me know in certain terms that he did not approve. In fact, he was desperate for a snuggle.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat at my desk, working from my phone.

That is what technology is for.

The Switch

Hello. Have we told you about the box?

I poked this head sized hidey hole in it so I can see my brother coming…

And hide.

TADAAAAAA! I leap from the box!

Did someone see a brother come through here?

Hello. Have we told you about the box?

Best box ever.

Nothing to Report

On Friday morning, The Boy left town for a train show. And it snowed. And hailed. And thundered. And rained. And snowed.

So Kitten Thunder and I ordered pizza, wings, and brownies.

And then, aside from when I went to the gym to work off the brownies, we spent the whole weekend like this.

So… That’s what happened.

Imposter!

This was supposed to be a cute post about Obi coming home from his teeth cleaning. I thought maybe there would be a cute video of a drunken brown kitten. But it was not cute.

Obi had his teeth cleaned and two teeth pulled. Dr. Tiffany called to let me know he was enjoying his drugs and heating pad and not really showing any interest in coming home at noon.

At 2:30 p.m., I went to pick him up. He was still groggy. He was a little crabby and have me a hiss as I held him. Tiffany suggested that he stay in his carrier at home for another hour until his legs were steadier.

I still had high hopes for cuteness.

At home, I set the carrier down. Oliver had been worried for his brother all day so I wanted them reunited, even if it was through a door.

But someone hissed. Then it became a battle.

And I made a big mistake.

I took Obi out of his carrier, thinking Oliver needed to SEE his brother. The fight escalated and I had to get up to protect a floppy brown kitten. Obi hissed and things got even worse.

If you remember the great battle of the black cat from last year you know that NO ONE speaks to Oliver’s girl like that.

He started leaping at Obi from the floor. It took three tries of me running into a room and trying to shut the door to get a barrier between us.

I tried to get Obi to nap in my arms, but an angry brother flinging himself against the door wasn’t restful. Eventually I settled Obi in a box in the basement, closed the stairway door, and let Oliver out.

An hour later, we tried again. Starting with rubbing The Boys pillow case all over the brown kitten to get rid of the vet office smell. That worked… Until Obi moved.

Imposter! Oliver cried at the wobbly kitten.

I picked Oliver up and locked him in the basement.

We tried again when The Boy came home. The belly rub was great. Then Obi walked.

Imposter! Oliver went back to the basement.

After another hour, The Boy went to cook dinner and let Oliver up. Obi and I stayed on the couch. Casual. The grey kitten came in. He checked me out. He walked cautiously up to Obi

Ears… Obi.
Back… Obi.
Tail… Obi.

Then Obi got up to walk away and Oliver followed him a couple steps before knocking him down. For a nice long bath.

It was a tough day for both kittens. Obi is taking a good nap under the watchful eyes of his big brother – who is making sure that stinky, hissy jerk imposter doesn’t come back.

Is It Cheese?

The bag says cheese…

It looks like cheese, though it is a little chunkier than usual…

There’s only one way to know for sure…

Nope, the cheese taster says “not cheese.”

The whole time I wrote this, I thought about this:

Still one of the best uses of online video for marketing. Ever.

http://www.willitblend.com/

There’s the Rub

Oliver and Obi love the box of paper. But there’s an issue. Obi now runs to the box at belly rubbing time. The Boy keeps insisting he can’t rub a belly in a box.

Kitten Thunder has put their fuzzy little brains toward a solution. If you’ve got any ideas, we’re open.

Diagnosis

Dr. Tiffany and Laura came for Obi’s annual veterinary visit yesterday. There wasn’t too much drama since Obi had always been healthy so his experience with doctors is pretty positive.

She did jam her fingers in his mouth to show me how to brush his teeth – he’s got some raging red gums and is headed for a teeth cleaning next week. He didn’t like that much. Maybe the cat teeth brushing will be The Boy’s job.

Oliver got an allergy shot. Aside from his Fight Club face, covered in cuts and bruises from kicking himself to scratch, his allergies haven’t gotten too bad. She didn’t have to clean out his ears or anything.

The highlight for him was getting weighed. He has lost two pounds since October – possibly, hopefully, because his nose has been stuffy. But the fact is that he was right when he told us he was wasting away (not that I could tell from the morning stompings). He hopes to reopen the discussion about kitty supper.

The most important diagnosis came at the end of the visit when Obi showed the doctor the latest addition to his belly rubbing area. Her diagnosis?

Yes, this is a very nice box.

Podcats

Sometimes I don’t get a lot of interaction from my social media posts for my clients. There are just days when no one is talking.

Then there are days when everyone is talking. Like when National Beer Day and National No Housework Day are the same day. And, of course, those are also the days that I have other projects on which to work.

But there are many hours in the day and, as long as I’ll spend some of them on the couch, Kitten Thunder is willing to work with me.

Oliver helped me with the sound editing for a podcast tonight. If he’d had his way it would have been four minutes long and the music track would have drowned out the human voices.

But he’s very post modern about this sort if thing.

***
We’re sending some purr therapy therapy out to Goblin tonight. He’s in kitty hospital tonight for pee problems.

We offered to give him Obi’s appointment time tomorrow, but it turned out to be an urgent problem. It is good that we didn’t have to push our appointment. Obi is in perfect health and is just getting his annual exam and play time. But Oliver is in desperate need of his allergy shot. I’m sure we’ll be talking more about this on Thursday.

***
Hi Grandma!

***