Tag Archives: daily life

Approval Ratings

The surveys are in. Polls have been taken. And my approval rating is at an all time low. I’m really going to have to do something special to improve or another Girl will be able to move in and beat me at the next election.

First there was Jigger-gate last weekend. Enough said.

Then, once we finally got that resolved, The Boy and I both made bad political moves by returning to work on Monday. Not only did we not ask Kitten Thunder if it was okay, we disregarded their opinion when they reached out to us.

And it was a busy week.

I had what some might consider a “crap ton” of client work, plus two bracelets to finish for the silent auction at the Fur Ball that is this weekend. The Boy had a 6:30 a.m. meeting (WHA?!?) and a meeting Monday night. I also had a meeting Monday night, but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I spent half an hour driving up and down the road looking for it before giving in to my headache and going home. Where I had more client work. And bracelets. This meant NO snuggle time for either kitten.

Unacceptable.

Tuesday was more of the same. I worked all the way through the day with no lunch break. Oliver supervised from his box on my desk. He mostly expressed his displeasure in no snuggling. But I did NOTHING to fix the situation, other than suggest that HE should come sit in my lap. Why, he wanted to know, should he do all the work?

On top of this, Obi wasn’t asking for belly rubs. Tuesday night we finally confronted him. Was he giving up belly rubs for Lent? It turns out, he wasn’t asking because he didn’t want to be rejected. Now that is cleared up and The Boy’s approval ratings have soared. It also doesn’t hurt that The Boy is fighting off a cold so he’s had more couch time than usual.

In an attempt to bolster my own ratings, I announced my plans for Pajama Wednesday. Kitten Thunder loves Pajama Wednesday. But, after a small spike, my ratings plummeted when they discovered that I intended to work. At my desk. And THEN, in the afternoon, I got dressed. IN CLOTHES! (This last paragraph isn’t quite true…I didn’t actually intend to spend all day in my pajamas and only realized I wasn’t IN the clothes I’d ironed when I started thinking about leaving) And then I left.

Unacceptable.

This morning, I was the one with a crack of too early in the morning meeting. The day started out great with my curling iron going berserk and frying a chunk of my bangs. It was so hot, the whole section just disintegrated. And it smelled horrible.

Obi did not approve.

Then I was gone all morning. When I returned, I sat on the couch to eat lunch. Oliver was not coveting on the back of the couch and he wrinkled his nose because my hair still smelled like I’d set it on fire.

Oli did not approve.

Then I left again.

No one, not even me, approved.

Now, all the big projects are done and tomorrow is just another work day. Hopefully the kittehs will stick with me until Saturday. I think I can pull out all the stops on Saturday and recover in the polls.

After all, I have a great platform: the couch.

 

Squirrels on Rye

The Boy and I don’t eat the same kind of bread. Being the only people in our house, we hardly ever finish a loaf of bread before it gets stale or molds or I just buy another loaf because I forgot to see what we had before I went to the store. This leads to a lot of extra bread.

Squirrel bait.

The same happens with tortillas, though not as often. When it was -20 degrees, I wasn’t putting out food because squirrels aren’t crazy. That is the exact type of weather that they store nuts or whatever for. So we had a surplus.

A giant stacks of the ends of breads and tortilla dregs. I did what anyone would do in this circumstance: I set up a taste test.

The results: Squirrels prefer rye bread over tortillas. But they’ll eat them both.

Next week we’ll be testing to see if they like my wheat bread over rye. Seriously…who wouldn’t?

Oh Brudder

I’ve mentioned that we have a new morning routine. That includes Oliver leaving our post-breakfast snuggle to take a bath in the recliner. Then The Boy comes by and covers him with the blanket. At first he was tucking the grey kitten in. Lately, though, he’s been carefully draping the blanket over both arms of the recliner, making a nice big cave.

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Oliver can stay in this cave for hours. Unless his brother wants to thunder.

This morning, Obi came tearing across the living room and jumped onto the “flat surface” of the blanket. He didn’t know Oli was under there, he swears. The blanket started to move and Oliver’s head popped up between the blanket and the back of the recliner. He climbed out of his cave.

Obi jumped down and ran a couple feet. He looked back.

Oliver resettled himself on top of the blanket and went back to sleep. Somehow, the blanket remained held up, slightly, by the arms so the grey kitten enjoyed a hammock. For a while. Then the brown kitten returned. Obi climbed into the cave and poked his brother from below.

Then he jumped down and ran a couple feet. He looked back.

Oliver was not chasing him.

Obi came and sat with me, sighing. After he’d maxed out mom time – about five minutes later – he went back to the recliner and tried again. Climb. Poke. Jump. Run. Look. It didn’t work so he went to get a snack. And tried again. Climb. Poke. Jump. Run. Look.

Nope.

The brown kitten tried all day to get his brother to thunder. As far as I know, it never happened. Eventually all the effort wore him out. He stretched out on the loveseat for a nap and I draped the big quilt over the whole seat, kitten and all, to make a nice big cave.

And Oliver has hopped up on top for a nap.

 

Bad Kitties

While I was gone, Kitten Thunder hatched a plan. They always want under the sink in our upstairs bathroom but we’ve put baby locks on the doors to keep them out since the time we went on vacation and they spent some quality time in our walls. Accessed, initially, from the hole in the wall under the sink. Then they knocked a utility panel down and that made it easier.

There was also that time that Obi locked Oliver inside the cupboard.

So…baby locks. The kittehs “help” me clean the bathrooms, thinking I don’t know they are waiting for me to open that door to get the sponge. But I do know and I’m prepared to block them.

The Boy did not know.

One of the kittens exploded in the master bedroom on Sunday. I got a text from The Boy: “the boys are being naughty.”

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That would be Oliver’s butt as he disappears into the wall.

bad2And Obi, not interested in coming out when his brother had been grabbed and locked out of the bathroom.

He’s also not interested in having his picture taken.

 

Whovian Naps

Oliver has started laying on the recliner a lot. The Boy has started tucking him in under the TARDIS blanket. Naps are bigger on the inside.IMG_20140212_085958_770

 

But sometimes a kitten gets a little peckish and has to leave the TARDIS for a snack. If The Girl doesn’t notice and make a TARDIS cave by pulling the blanket tight over both arms of the chair, the kitten has to make do by sleeping on top of the blanket.

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It’s big enough on the outside.

Winner Winner

I made chicken noodle soup for dinner tonight. This involves Kitten Thunder and I torturing ourselves all day as the chicken cooks in the crock pot, filling the house with the scent of yum. Then, an hour before dinner, I pull the chicken off the bones and stir it back in with the noodles.

Oliver and Obi are always available to help.

Oliver sat at my feet as I worked on the chicken. He told me his woes. He told me about how long it had been since he’d eaten. I mean, yes, he had just finished eating kitty crunchies four feet from where I was standing, but that’s not really food. It is merely subsistence. So much woe for one grey kitten.

I finished the chicken and started working on the noodles.

Obi came into the kitchen and collapsed at my feet. So hungry.  He had NOT just finished eating kitty crunchies so he was really very famished. And too weak, he was, to walk to the breakfast nook for subsistence crunchies. So much woe for the brown kitten.

Once everything was back in the crock pot – because I was hungry and no way was I eating subsistence kitty crunchies – I started to pick a pile of chicken for the kittens off the bones that were on the cutting board. It was a healthy pile.

I split the pile in two and placed the piles onto Kitten Thunder’s plates. Oliver, of course, inhaled his and the speed of smell. He then went after his brother’s share.

I stepped in.

“You had yours,” I said with my hand on the grey kitten’s chest. “Your brother should get to eat his, don’t you think?”

No. No he did not think. But Oliver relented and stomped off to the living room to tell The Boy how I had ruined his life. After that, he plunked down in the dining room condo to glare at me while I did dishes.

After a while, I looked down and saw that Obi had some chicken left on his plate. Oliver was in the kitchen again and I told him he could have the extra. He perked up, life un-ruined. For now.

But then a brown kitten came tearing into the kitchen to reclaim his chicken. He hadn’t realized that my defense of his share wasn’t permanent! He wolfed down his portion and gave a pointed stare. First to Oliver. Then to me.

It’s a sad, sad world where you can’t leave freshly cooked chicken unattended on a plate on the floor and not worry about it disappearing.

Sheesh.

Box of the Month

Oliver and Obi were signed up for the box of the month club for Christmas. Another box came today. They would like it better if the boxes didn’t come filled with beer, but something is needed to hold the box down if UPS comes when The Girl isn’t home.

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***

Yesterday was a holiday. I didn’t realize this until dinner time on Sunday night, in spite of the fact that I mentioned it on numerous client Facebook pages. But it was a nice surprise.

On three day weekends, I kind of split the difference between working and not working because there’s really not a day that I don’t work a little bit. I did a little bit of client work. Then I started to clean my office.

I haven’t worked in my office for about two months. At least. Part of the problem is that it is colder in that room than any other in the house. Another part of the problem is that there were shelves that kept my chair from rolling around freely, making it hard to back up far enough to access the power strip for plugging things in – things like my laptop and a space heater. So, yesterday, I fixed it.

I moved the shelves from behind my chair to under the window. I thought they would be slightly too tall, but they fit perfectly. And they are just right for Obi to stalk vicious leaves that blow up onto the outside sill.

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Oliver walked into the office, sniffed the sewing machine, scratched his chin on a box, and left. Obi had to bring him back in to show him the new shelves.

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After I moved the condo out, I put this box on my desk. It is the perfect size for a kitten.

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Or two.

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