Heads Up

Yeah, I changed the header, see? That’s the Leo pic I wanted to use a while ago, but I have a tiny little problem with CHANGE. Not so you’d know, of course, since, you know, I’ve done SO WELL with putting things behind me. Ahem.

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Zee Stress, She Make Me Weary

Man, if tired were dollars, I’d be in high cotton.

Leo got sick over the weekend, and it turns out he’s VERY sick. He had a high fever and is now in the hospital with fluid on his lungs. I am afraid for him, and sad that he is scared and hurting and miserable, and there is not one thing I can do for him. I woke up this morning with him curled against my leg. He never does that, I think because of the body heat we both produce. He was clinging, poor baby.

Me? I’m still fighting a sinus infection, and back pain, and a half-dozen things-gone-wrong around the house, so yes. Weariness, she eez belong to me.

I hit the ground running today. Around lunchtime I checked with weather.com and found that it was only 85 degrees out. BULLPUCKS, I said. Then I saw the heat index: 94. THANK YOU, GA HUMIDITY! You have made me sorry I grew my hair out, even tho I haven’t been called “sir” ONCE since I did. It now hangs down in ringlets that irritate the heck out of my forehead, in an “I’m-not-touching-you” sort of way. You have taken what would be a perfectly marvelous weather pattern in another state and turned it into a sauna, Hades, really. Humidity, I don’t mean to be critical, but you suck.

Geez, I love this place.

Ok, advil’s kicking in. Gonna totally rock the sheets. Later, peeps.

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One More Day

My final paper as a grad student is due tomorrow. What a birthday present, eh? I plan to finish it tonight – I promised myself I wouldn’t wait till the weekend, but I did. Yard work, sleep, laundry, and the babies all made EXCELLENT diversions. See?

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Four Boys, Four Months

It has been a while since I posted new pics of the babies. It appears that the four boys will be the new family crowd. I am amazed at their personalities – they’re just cats, right? Anybody who says that has never spent time with one, let alone more.

Lewis is the picture of calm assurance. Very little upsets him or scares him, and even though I didn’t really lavish the attention on him, he is perfectly happy to love and be loved. I think he’s extremely bright, personally. He’s also the clean freak, preferring to lick me before he lets me pet him. I guess I should take the hint.

Frankie looks at me like he’s looking for approval. He is the first to find the front cat door, as far as I know, and he was the first to open his eyes at 5 days old. He doesn’t need me, but it seems like he’s not so sure of that.

Max is skittish, and terribly misnamed. He is the spitting image of Hobbes, Calvin’s tiger buddy. He knows Max, though, so Max it is. He’s a sweet boy who likes to curl up next to me in the bed, but the least movement or sudden noise scares him. He comes back, but I hate it that I scare him. I haven’t tried to, I just do.

Leo…well, I’ve written about Leo. He is destruction in a skin. One night he started talking to himself and tearing around the house in an absolute tizzy. Even his brothers looked at him like he was out of his mind. That was something to watch, lemme tell ya’, schizo kitty on speed. I do love the little guy. He’s starting to look just like his mama.

OK, the finale. Pics. Can you tell who’s who? How well do you know The Boyz? LOL

Later…

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I Can Haz Do-Over?

My babies are retarded, and very masculine. That may be redundant. Buddy the Bully, who chased off my less aggressive cats, has adopted the three wanderers. I noticed that he was nowhere to be found when the musketeers disappeared, and sure enough, he came back and they straggled in a bit later. They cuddle with him and try to nurse on him, which he doesn’t appreciate, and they wrestle him without fear. I think he was neutered before Ashes got knocked up, so I don’t think his genes are represented. His coloring is, tho, so I could be wrong.

Leo is the exception of the crowd.

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Mea Culpa

God is going to get good and tired of me railing on Him when crap goes wrong. But apparently He is in a good mood at the moment, and somebody has been praying for me HARD. In the midst of my grief over losing not one, but four kittens in one day, I said some pretty serious things to Him. I meant them. Then my guardian angels stepped in and softened me up a little, and I managed to not cut my wrists.

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Happy Birthday, Mama

Today my mother would have been 73 years old, had she made it this far. When I was a kid, I used to wonder why she never seemed to be bothered by my cuts and scrapes and falls and such. It bothered me until I realized I’m a raging hypochondriac of sorts, so no wonder. Maybe I became that as a way to get her attention. I dunno. I’m screwed up on so many levels, there’s no way to really pinpoint a cause.

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Not That It Matters…

I often wonder at what point I became an intolerable whiner. I have recognized my tendencies for a long time, and while I try to change, it seems to be ingrained behavior. I am easily irritated and completely impatient with stupidity, which means I’m irritated a LOT. Little things really get under my skin. It makes me an intolerable human, an unlovable, bitter, semi-old spinster.

Note to Redbird: The annoy-a-tron has arrived and will be pressed into service Tuesday afternoon. Over.

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On the Road Again…

In less than 8 hours I’ll be headed down the concrete highway to Hotlanta. Woot? WOOT! Um, yeah. I got nuthin’ done music-wise this week. Between kids and house hunting and making offers and packing, I did squat. I guess if those people have waited 8 months for my stuff, they can wait one more.

OK. The good news.

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Can I Just Go Back to Bed, Please?

Let me apologize ahead of time for the disgusting content of today’s post. If you are a parent, most likely nothing can turn your stomach, so read on. If you are a pet owner, you’ll understand. If you are neither, you miiiiight wanna come back another day. Heh.

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