Cats

Vegas does yoga
Laura Ingalls does yoga

Cat communication

Hey, I thought you two hated each other!

Cats Cleaning

Laura Ingalls giving herself a cat bath
Vegas bathing with grace
Laura cleans Margeaux

Cats on the Treadmill

I have a project going on where I walk 1/2 hour per day on the treadmill divided into three walks a day. I am entertained by cats while I walk. Margeaux is fascinated by the True logo going past. She also likes access to the window beside the machine. She has a ball in a circle toy right there too and it isn't unusual for her to play with that the entire time I'm on the treadmill. She walks the thin strip of edge on either side of the belt. Vegas is curious too. Both cats have ended up ON the treadmill with me fancy-footin' to avoid stepping on them. I wish they'd just learn to walk on it! I know there are videos of cats on treadmills at YouTube but not our cats. I am busy walking so I can't even snap pictures of their cute behavior!..

The Shoulder Holder

Laura Ingalls is known as the "shoulder holder", crawling up whenever she can. She'll crawl higher and dig in her back claws. She'll wrap around your neck like a stole. It can be very painful to be loved by the shoulder holder. Dee's shoulders are her preferred holding territory.

The Demon Margeaux

Margeaux is our beloved grey tabby. She is the one who is like Little Sparta of YouTube fame. She is still full of kittenhood and evil intentions. She will not shut up and whimpers in her sleep at night and chatters to us all day long. She taunts Daisy who is dumb.

She is the destroyer of our possessions and thief of the screen in my shower drain. She eats like we're made of money. She is also very VERY cute. She uses that factor to win our affection and get away with things her older sisters (Vegas and Laura Ingalls) cannot. Just look at her - she's a cat.

She's BAAAAACK

Not only are we back, but Margaret is back with her old Volvo. So far she hasn't come over to ring the doorbell. When we returned from Ohio, the Volvo was in the driveway next door. We were at once horrified and cautious. Normally, she will show up at our door and ring the doorbell over and over. When we answer, there is the inevitable half-dead flower arrangement, questionable food product, or time-consuming monologue and worse yet, the invitation to come sit down and chat. So far, she's not even pushed the button.

On my way home for lunch today, I pulled around the corner and heard a loud voice shouting. As I pulled up I noticed it was Melissa, looking thinner than usual but shouting just as loud. Melissa is Margaret's developmentally disabled daughter. I cringed and parked, wishing I'd pulled into the garage. I will do so tomorrow. With Melissa about, Margaret cannot be far. When I went back to work after lunch, I noticed that the Volvo was gone. I called Dee to let her know it was safe to go out - no Margaret. She is plenty friendly, full of advice to get one through the end times, with many stories to tell. Maybe I'll be better at getting her picture (which will say 1000 words) than I am at getting pictures of cats.

I'm curious about her return but not curious enough to endure the narrative.

Inside

I slept in this morning - of course time sprang forward but I also slept in. Dee is at an Army school. Daisy is at the kennel. I have to go to Jefferson City for a couple days this week and Dee wanted her to have her dog house at the kennel so she took her before she left for Army camp. I read a murder mystery after sleeping in, did a little laundry and cooked a little food. The overshadowing unease I've had has been because my computer is infected with a trojan and spyware - it's my fault - I was surfing, pretty much unprotected, and I knew the moment it happened. Now, I must get this stuff off of here. How annoying! No wonder people are paranoid! UGH!

This cloud hanging over me, means I've not left the house all day. I haven't put on anything but sweats and a sleepshirt and I've been a curmudgeon. I am getting ready for my work week and will have to get energetic enough to put on my office face. Yesterday, Berkeley came bounding across the alley just as I drove through.

Is Margaret Gone Forever?

Our neighbor Margaret left in November I think to go to Florida. She has a developmentally disabled daughter and she herself seems to have issues, possibly mental illness. She is a doomsday warner - advising me about the end times and how many cans of beans I might need. She isn't a bad neighbor really except for the fact that she is a trash picking dumpster diver and brings home boxes of half rotten vegetables and fruit.

She told us she was returning in January. It's almost mid-March and we haven't seen her yet. We know the house is full to the brim of junk - there's hardly a path to walk through the place. If she has abandoned that particular sinking ship (that house is a mess), then someone is going to have a major clean up. It will be a big production.

Public Face in a Small Town

In my life I've always just gone places "as is" on off days. There must be a French term - it's not al fresco but it means that I roll out of bed and put on some sweatpants and shoes and meet the world - mascara under my eyes and bedhead.

Now I live in Moberly, I'm becoming self-conscious. I am aware that I have a semi-cleaned-up-work-identity and a my guttersnipe self - unclean, unkempt and not caring. So what if I go out to do my chores with greasy (greezy) hair? I have never felt that I would be judged though. I always felt I could be anonymous. Even in Columbia I felt as if I could do my errands - usually very early in the morning. Moberly starts later on Saturdays. Wal-Mart is always open but I really don't want to go to Wal-Mart. I want to go to Bob's Butcher Shop, Aldi, Leisure Living, maybe SaveMore, and Brewed Awakening. By the time these places open, everyone is awake, bathed, primped, and wearing makeup! The town is small enough it is almost inevitable that I at least see (and try to hide from) someone that I know. I cannot avoid it. So I try to disguise myself by wearing a hat and going as early as possible.

Perhaps I have to go while everyone is in church! But WAIT - things aren't open on Sunday morning in a small town. I think I just have to NOT go out as a guttersnipe. I have to do a few basics and present myself at least GROOMED or go to another town to shop anonymously. That is a hilarious thought.

What astonishes me is the level of grooming that I see out in public - sculpted hair, eyeliner, lipstick, and heels. Come on! I can't rise to that level but I will - brush my hair, put on clean clothes, wash my face (to remove mascara under eyes) and put on powder. That HAS to be enough.