Caturday Ammendment

Ehh, my brains, they be too tired. New post it is. Also, I would like a roomba for my birthday, please. To vacoom...because I'm an Old...that's the only reason...

Where was this on Meow Like a Pirate Day?!?

Ahoy! 🤣🤣🤣
Happy #Caturday pic.twitter.com/n5LqOGzoYF

— Dave (@SpotTheLoon2010) September 24, 2022

Morning Email Check Says...

 

Yeah. I'm going to get nothing important done today. It's Trivia Tuesday for Pet Plus US, the weekly giveaway they hold on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Easy entry on any of their pages - or all for extra entries - for a chance to win a $25 Pet Smart giftcard to spend on your furbaby. 

Have a great day right meow, me mateys!

Whistling Past The Cemetary

 🎧  Nothing To Fear

Have you ever had a day where it feels like there's a grouchy shadow hanging over your shoulder? It's not anxiety. I know anxiety in every ugly form. Depression has also been a beast I've finally slayed and that's not what this feeling is. Trying to describe it leaves me struggling...but it's as though I'm the little kid who won't look under the bed because there might be monsters lying in wait. No matter what I try, and I've been trying all day, it's just...there.

There's nothing specifically wrong. My Saturday's been spent writing, answering emails, entering contests, taking a peek at the news and fiddling with the blog. Upbeat soundtracks have kept me company and Mia has given insistent snuggles. 

A neighbour answered my mayday note and that woman is going to heaven when she shifts off this mortal coil. She dropped off two coffees and said I could warm one up tomorrow. Oh, kind but silly woman, surely you jest. Dey be gone. I am not an novice.

When a friend asked what kind of beer I wanted her to pick up for me and the answer was "something light" she called it a rude, but hilarious, name that I can't share. She also implied I am a novice beer drinker in her eyes. She's not completely wrong. Having lived for a decade and a half with someone who had a daily, multiple 'fizzy pop' habit, I was completely turned off it for years. Recently, I remembered how much I enjoy it under the right circumstances. I'd gone camping with Kitten and her BFFs, it was perfect summer weather, and it's hard not to want a cold beer around those ladies. Funny as hell, strong, independent, single and hard working moms, they're her rock and I'm so grateful she has them in her life. It's a girl's weekend away for them and there's talk of riding a mechanical bull. I posted on her IG that the town ought to lock up their sons. I swear, if she throws her back out and I have to wait on her for the next two weeks, the pist mist is gonna fly. I can be pissed off and laugh at the same time. Multi-tasker, c'est Moi.

The skill is something I managed to pass on to all my offspring. Belle is working her second job tonight. Her text update included: (a) She has to be out of her condo by 30 November, (b) Her second interview, with the decision maker, is on Monday, (c) The cat got a promotion, and (d) Further confirmation the kid is mine: 

It doesn't diminish my pride, but sometimes I really feel for my kids. Imagine drawing the mother card and getting me?  McSteamy is off-grid camping, which he neglected to tell me about, but it's probably because I always get all momish on him about BEARS!!!! The rolling of his eyes can practically be heard over the phone. He once texted me to say he'd just had a bear burger and my reply was mock horror that he'd eaten his favourite childhood teddy, Tickle Bear. They really just don't know what to expect when they reach out. 

To be honest, neither do I...

Part of reason for taking up blogging again is to get back into the practice of writing daily. The rest is...therapy. Which I clearly still need, amirite? Cheers!

Whiskers Wednesday

My Mom used to take great delight recounting the story of how, when I was but a wee one, I used to begin stories with, "When I was a pussycat..." 

No doubt I believed it with all my young heart. Truthfully, I'm not even sure young soul-me didn't know something grown-up me was taught isn't possible. If it is possible, one of my past lives was surely spent as a scruffy street cat, scrapping away at life wearing my battle scars, a squinty eye, one torn ear and a bad cattitude. 

It's safe to say from my earliest memories that being a batshit crazy Cat Person was  my destiny. Hard core. There's just so many things about them that earns my respect. Obviously, I'm not alone; the internet was basically invented for them, right? That's not to say dogs and other animals haven't held a special place in my life, heart and soul.  There are a particular few who blessed my life greatly. So many of my furbabies have crossed the rainbow bridge and I'm trying to collect their photos to share here along with my memories. 

For now, onward with the Roll Call of Present Furbabies...

Originally I was only supposed to foster this fellow while a new acquaintance sorted out a difficult living situation. Newly moved into my own apartment, and coming off a long stretch of being without a pet, I was wary of getting too attached. We shared affection, cuddles and playtime but when I spoke of him, he was The Cat. After dropping him off with a half a bag of food, some litter, a ton of thanks yous and promises, she patted him on the head and we never heard from her again. As I said, I tried very hard not to fall in love with him. My heart was already in a battered state and another loss was not on the agenda. But I can be pretty stupid about trusting people to keep their word. After a month had passed, another friend finally convinced me that she wasn't coming back, he was mine, and I better give him a proper name. This is Fetch. Yeah, I made that happen. Tribute to Gretchen Weiners. Never give up on your dreams, girl! How cute is the heart on his nose? He looks so over everything but he's dialed in to it all.

Nobody can convince me angels with whiskers don't exist. His appearance doesn't convey the sweetest personality, but he's provided so much love and comfort to myself, my Mom, Kitten and Mancub over the years. The young lad was three when Fetch came into our lives. I'll never forget the pure delight in his voice the first time they met, as Fetch ran to him, he exclaimed: "He likes me!" Sally Field's Oscar speech had nothing on the kid. Whenever the tiny human came to visit, this kitty would wait for him to fall asleep, park himself by his head, and would not budge. They lived with me for a time and he bonded with both like a pro. Once they moved, I used to bring him back and forth as I bounced between their home and mine. He really didn't enjoy the car and we ultimately decided he would live with them. So, they have custody of my cat and I have weekly visitation twice a month. He's pretty happy with the arrangement; Kitten buys the expensive treats and makes sure he always has catnip mousies to toy with. He is known as Good Sir Fetchimus, Our Cat.

This young lady is Callie and she'd just scared the heck out of me when I walked into a dark room. She really likes to be up high where she can spy on observe everyone. Once I found her sleeping in the little useless cupboard over the fridge. It's become one of her favourite hangouts, as is this tall coffee holder. Apologies for the poor picture quality but this girl doesn't sit still long enough to get a good shot. She has eternal zoomies. Athletic, lean and lanky, her Parkour antics are truly amazing but there's never enough warning to capture the hilarity.

She's technically Mancub's, but I'm to blame for bringing a straggly little kitten into their world.  They'd just returned from visiting the wasband and Mancub was missing the dog. Kitten had been thinking about adopting another cat for him once Fetch had traitorously abandoned their sleeping ritual in favour of her bed. He can't be blamed. The boy kept getting bigger and has lengthy conversations in his sleep. She's got a king size bed and barely moves once she closes her eyes. She still hasn't learned it's probably not wise to let me in on all the things she's thinking of doing though. Allow me to believe this. 

There happened to be a crate of free kittens when I stopped in a store. I impulse cat. Perhaps I should be ashamed of the number of stories that begin with me walking through the door with a new cat, however I remain unrepentant. When I walked in with Callie, Mancub got so emotional that he cried. What an unforgettable moment for me. It's quite something to watch a ten year old boy try to tough out tears of joy. She's a little pain in the ass, but we adore her and I was forgiven my transgression. Fetch slid into big brother mode without incident and she bosses him around. Why we give pets nicknames in addition to their name is beyond me, but she's Calliekins.

Which brings us to Mia, a.k.a. Meems, Meemers, Meemerella, and My Best Friend. She's another angel with whiskers and has seen me through the aching loneliness of The Thing That Shook Us and nearly two years of grieving my previous best friend, my Mom. That they happened at the same time was especially difficult. It may sound as though my life is terribly empty when I say this cat literally saved my life, but it's not. For what is probably the first time in my life, I really like where I'm at. During lockdowns and ever-changing restrictions, though, having to isolate from the people who make my world matter, in pain and uncertain what the future held, it would have been easy to fall into a pit of despair. The experience is not unique, it's just mine, and there were days caring for and being comforted by Mia was all that kept me hanging on. Here we are in a rose-coloured glasses, heavily filtered, selfie. The Rona had gotten me and she plastered herself to my person like this for hours each miserable day. 

She loves to travel in the car and would probably be very content if we lived in an RV traveling to and fro. A country girl at  heart, she's another example of my affliction. Impulse catting. Wow, that sounds very weird. While spending a weekend at Mancub's paternal grandparent's home, I was delighted by three nearly identical kittens. They were all attention-seeking, deeply affectionate, and had the loudest purrs, but the one with a little white on the tip of her tail seemed special. Meems came home with me. She's still wildly affectionate, her purr can be distinctly heard over the phone as she vies for my undivided attention, and while I jokingly refer to her as my personal assistant, the truth is she's the queen.

Lest you think our relationship is all sunshine and butterflies, Mia is quick to let me know when I've displeased her. In the early spring, I threw the windows open and went on a cleaning spree. As it happens, one thing led to another, chaos ensued and it had gotten late by the time I sat down to have a coffee. That's when I noticed it had gotten very cold once the sun had set. She had been suspiciously quiet for some time. I glanced up and saw she was giving me the classic feline rebuke. Her majesty ignored me calling and cajoling her, for almost an hour. When I texted this pic to Kitten and Belle, their automatic replies were along the lines of, "Oh, you in deep shit nao." They know. 

I could have made a point that she clearly had enough padding to keep her warm, but I know how to read a room. Of this I'm pretty sure: fat shaming any cat, let alone a female pissed off cat, will lead to nothing good. 

So there you have an accounting of the present fluffs in my life. Previous posts have also mentioned my furgrandbabies. Yeah, I call them that. Yeah, I'm nuts. Who cares? The fact that all my kids have grown up to be animal lovers is a point of pride. High on the list of rules in my life to follow is to never trust a person animals dislike. They listen to their instincts. As should we. I love them all, sometimes more than people, but there are no plans for more. Keep in mind, I'm a little spontaneous and once had two dogs and nineteen cats. Yep, that's another post though.  

Who's Laughing Now?

Grandma is a label I cherish. Crazy Cat Lady is also label I wear proudly. So it is for all the women in our family. Asking Belle to call me at 3 am, my time, especially on a Saturday night is foolish business. I know this, but she's a tough cookie to read over text. "I miss your voice," I whined. Instead, I received a video. This woman, my child, lives alone with her cat... ...and I know exactly how drunk she was from the elegant sound she emitted and the immediate follow-up "nitey nite mama" text.  Ohhboyohh, do I miss her.

Monday Mishmash

 My trusty Google Calendar tells me today is National Chocolate Milkshake Day. I have questions:

• Isn't that every day?
• What nation? Can anyone participate? Who is policing this?
• When was the last time I had a chocolate milkshake?
• Are these celebratory days getting out of hand? 
• How can I get a milkshake, like, right now?
• Remember when Belle worked at McDonald's and had to dress in the Grimace costume during a heatwave? Where is that pic? Will she murdalize me if I post it? Would it tempt her enough to get on a plane? Cost/benefit analysis? 

Yeah, I just threw all that out there without really trying, after a little four-word prompt. There are more. There's always more. Hence, the attempt at a book. Speaking of, I received a nice surprise in my email yesterday... 

A book!! Of course it was a book. It's my favourite sort of prize and I am delighted. When it arrives, I'll post more about it, but this particular one has already gotten me back in touch with so many memories about my childhood and the peacefulness I found in books. It feels like a good omen. Thanks again to the sponsor, Lilac, of Pausitive Living. For very good vibes, drop by her site or Instagram and show her some love. She shares giveaways along with crafts, recipes, and lifestyle content and has brought many smiles to my face in the past few weeks. And, she's Canadian, eh?

The stars descended on my hometown over the weekend for the annual Toronto International Film Festival -- I remember when TIFF was a wee start up -- my, how you've grown! Steven Spielberg choose #the6ix for the world premier of his new film, The Fabelmans, and he doled out some high praise for my Turranna. 

The latest issue of LCBO's Food & Drink is out, and omgoshyouguise, the recipes are awesome. If anything is going to jump start my fall baking buzz, it will be Burnt Honey Pie. Rawrrr.

As it's nearly impossible for me to exist without mentioning cats, I'll use a loose LCBO connection to drinking to falling over to flopping over and TAH-DAH! We're there. I highly recommend you check Floppy Cats for love of Ragdolls and general information about our furry feline friends. I prefer keeping my furbabies indoors, but have had housing where it was impossible to keep them (all) in consistently. Many a time has found me out in nature, shaking the Temptations can and annoying my neighbours, incessantly calling for Fluffy. What a relief it would have been if Fluffy had a GPS collar, right? You could win one for your Fluffy, or Mittens, or a very, very small child. 

My mind, she wanders. When I saw this pic, my first thought was, "Yo, chaps, I'm the Prince of Wales now! You can doff your cap at me here. Come, peasants." While I'm cognizant of the historical significance we are witnessing, I did make myself snort when I typed the tag WpOw and realized it sounded like the whipped sound effect. 

Finally, an update on the persistent Sebastiano: 

That's a lot to ask of pasta, amore mio. Is it too soon to call him my internet boyfriend? Ciao for nao! 💋

Insomniacrazed

The following was previously published on another site.

Slowly building new socials, with my long term goal in mind, may seem random to others but it's part of a plan. Or a grand delusion. Whatever. It keeps me off the street as my Ma used to say. Doing this requires a lot of screen time and actually a bit of a learning curve. Thankfully, I've stumbled across things that made me laugh way too hard. Granted, insomnia may have something to do with it. Why did I wake up? Whyyy can't I go back to sleep? Am I a lunatic? Probably.

TikTok has been a revelation. On so many levels. One that comes to mind is that I had no concept of how many people would spend their precious time, watching other people, on a little screen, just...cleaning. Is this fun? I. Think. Not.

I don't care what anyone says. Twitter on #Caturday is the most splendid place evah. Bar none. Last weekend I tweeted: "I'm FINE. Why do you ask?" In the replies, a work of minimalist art appeared, just like magic. There are no words to express how much I LOVE THIS!!! It gets funnier the more I look at it and think somebody, somewhere, took the time to do that.

Copywriting and TMing the whole thing up thar. Tag, tag, no erasies.

On the Canadian news front:

No judgment here, Luke. Some people dig casinos, fantasy sport leagues, or a night at The Bingo. I'm enjoying contesting. My advice to anyone thinking about doing it is to take the time to open a dedicated email account first. The volume of emails can get out of control. My Gmail got a little Grated. Yes, I know 'grated' is a real word. Yes, I know I'm using it improperly. I do that. You know where I was going, right?

Dear Expedia Cruises,

Maybe have Bob in PR check how an automatic email reply for a contest submission appears? Just a thought...

Umm, you're welcome? Can I have the free cruise now? (They wouldn't be the first to say no.) Someone on Twitter posted their favourite Greek philosopher. I concur.

This needs a catchy sign off but I haven't created one yet. It's a journey. Something, something, hidden clues. I'll get there.

Find Your Bliss

 Happy Caturday to everyone who celebrates our furry furry overlords!

TGI Feel Me Better

My Go To Feel Me Better Tunes 

Have you ever been told, "YOU should write a book!" I bet you have. Did you think, "Shuuuure. It can't be hard. I'll get right on that . . . " as the molten sarcasm sap tried to explode from your pores? Shocking, I know, but having been through some things and possessing a modicum of writing ability will not do the trick. Whatever the trick actually IS escapes me today. 

This has been the least productive day of writing since I decided the time had finally come to settle   in and give it a real go. Maybe my own mind is blocking me. I've been in some bad internal places the past few days. Weirdly, the passing of Queen Elizabeth II yesterday has made it worse, triggering feelings about my mom. Hard. Since she died, pictures of Her Maj began to morph in with my memories and emotions, especially of Mum's quick decline. With each news story on the monarch's health that I read over the last year, another fierce feeling of protectiveness would wash over me. Being aware it's classic transference for my feelings orphans helps identify it. Dealing with it is another story. I'm not sobbing, but I am hurting in that deja vu way living with grief makes us experts at. Of sweeter memory, it was also something about their smiles, lighting up a room. I miss it. Today, I can't even pretend to write a book. I'll sit with this strange grief soup for a bit.

Giving myself that permission, and acknowledging my concentration is shot, finally led to surfing. Not the healthy, soak up the sun and surf, gnarly kind. The wicked kind. The big WWW. You know. 

The result after having hours sucked away? Not much. Except, now I need to BUY THIS:

And whip up some Beef & Stout  delish in the kitsh:

And MAKE THESE beauties!

Because lordty, lordty, I can't think of a reasonable argument to stop me. Mancub will think it's hilarious and that's enough motivation for Moi to make a stupid craft.  Maybe we can create them together on the sly, then force Kitten to wear them to work and school? Heheh. That cheered me up. 

Have a great weekend. Stay safe and make the most of where you're at. 

If you can, buy cute drinks. 

Mandoquerita

September Means Learning New Skills

This post was previously published on another site.

Or dusting cobwebs off the old ones. I'm in disbelief that this long weekend is the last before kids return to school. One is starting her second year of college. Her son is starting the last year of elementary before graduating into high school. Where they keep the big kids. *gulp* The way he's growing, though, hopefully it won't be a problem. He turned thirteen in July. His summer wardrobe was men's large boarder shorts, shirts and hoodies. He's already half a head taller than me, and taller than both his mom, aunt and me. I'm a smidge shy of 5'8". His aunt and mom swear they are 5'5". Bullshit flag thrown on that field. Not to mention, when my girlchildren are drinking they get really cute and slur like , "Achshualee I'm really only 5'3' but done tell anyone, 'kayyy, bitch?? hahaa I loove you?" Nothing like a little truth serum with a maraschino cherry and umbrella, amirite, adies?

The kid . . . his back to school shoes: Size 11. His grown ass uncle"s size. I think that man is secretly starting to hope he may be able to score some hand me downs before someone, who was a child two months ago, damages them. The next couple of years are sure to be interesting. We're all anticipating the football and rugby coaches will show interest. He's going to be a beast.

Come the first day of school, I'll be here, staring at a screen for too long, clacking away and occasionally yelling at the laptop. Hey, we all have different learning styles, okay? Mine is hands-on, verbal and involves throwing everything at the wall until something sticks. (You may have heard that referenced as sticktoitivness., she said smugly.) TikTok continues to both mystify and horrify me. It's been giving me troubles. I've been trying to embed something here, with no luck. On and off. all.day.long. This thing ain't gonna beat me but I see alcohol in my near future. Look at this natty cat, judging me. He must be French. So full of attitude. So above it all. Keep your disdain, garçon, and just bring me my booze right meow .

His real name is Wolfie.

*chef's kiss* props to his human employee!

Yesterday's mailbox contained some coupons and free samples, and today more were successfully ordered. So YAY! The Christmas Stocking Box has begun to fill with supplies.

And the contesting continues. Here's two that you may find interesting. I've been entering one daily from the beginning, and the other I found on one of the contesting websites I joined, so I was late to the game. Can't hurt to try, right? Psst. Go enter it so I get a referral bonus. I have an obsession with Sweden.