If you do what you have always done, you will get what you have always had.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Mystery solved

Vicky gets the prize for finding Ryan's secret hideout. Because it's secret, I'm not saying where those containers are in my house. It's too embarassing anyway.

The Ryan Kitty seems to be adapting to his new environment quickly. The girls are on their toes, but that's ok. He was trying to play with them this morning. We must have the end of a weather front coming through or something because he's full of vinegar. When he's not chasing anything that moves (the girls, toy mice, my feet...), he's walking around grumbling. It's a funny little sound, and it doesn't sound like something a cat his size would do.

He's come so far. Two weeks ago we were thrilled because he was eating and knew what to do with a litter box. Now he's exploring the house, finding hidey holes, and chasing the girls. He still hasn't shown any interest in going outside. I guess the dog-free environment agrees with him, but it's going to be very interesting when Mom and Trixie come to visit again.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

OK, I'll be a writer when I grow up

I've gushed here about Jennie Crusie before. This spring she has a book coming out that she wrote with mystery auther Robert Mayer. Apparently it went so well that they're doing another one, and they're blogging together. However, they don't blog every day, so I don't read it every day. I went over this morning and was pleasantly surprised to find several new posts. I love that.

A little teeny thing in Sunday's 'He Wrote' solidified my decision about pursuing this writing thing I've been waffling on:

"I was sitting with Terry Brooks in Maui"

I know! It's not even a complete sentence! You can read the whole thing for yourself to get the context. It's quite funny, trust me.

The thing is, while we have Terry Brooks' books upstairs, they're Eric's. I'm not a particularly big fan. Eric and Terry are detail oriented. I prefer to let my imagination fill in details, and I let my reader(s) do the same thing. I also don't have any driving need to go to Hawaii. I'd like to visit sometime, sure, but I'm not rolling pennies and pinning up pictures of sunsets and beaches.

Having said that, the thought of sitting in an exotic location, sipping daquiries with umbrellas with bonafide authors just gets me all fired up. Too bad I have to go to work pretty soon or I'd go fire up the laptop. Alas, we have a Red Hat party today, and that means I might get a share of the tips! Tips are my friend, but waiting tables is my nightmare.

Before I go get dressed, I'm changing my screen saver: Scrolling marquee: "I was sitting with Terry Brooks in Maui".


Sunday, January 08, 2006

Feline teleportation

Jean recently posted about feline teleportation. Her cat was sitting in the entryway, and when she turned back around, the cat walked out of the bedroom. She had no idea how she got from point A to point B without Scotty's assistance.

We just had our own instance of this. Ryan, who, by the way, is not a small cat, disappeared. We searched the whole house; inside closed closets, under beds, you name it, calling his name the whole time. We went out and searched the neighborhood, alerted the neighbors, etc. After a short dinner break we were trying to decide what to do. I was looking out the front door and noticed that I hadn't brought in the decorative lights I'd intended to put away until spring, so I went out, picked up a few, and brought them through the house and out to the garage. I was going to open the garage door to get the rest, but I'd left the door to the house open. Tess was nosing around, and I didn't know Chloe's whereabouts. I didn't want to chance losing two cats in one day, so I went back through the house and got the rest of the lights. When I came in, Ryan was sitting on the landing.

I know, I know, he was probably asleep somewhere upstairs. But where??! We looked everywhere, and he usually comes when we call him. Besides, he's ten freaking pounds! I could understand if Chloe went missing; she's four pounds after a big dinner. She could hide in a shoe box. But Ryan is not a little boy!

Anyway, he's accounted for, and that's all that matters. I just have a few more gray hairs.