The Baby Shower

Last weekend Sharon gave a baby shower for her 8-month pregnant daughter, Caitlin.

I’ve known Caitlin from the moment she was born, as I witnessed her arrival as well as the birth of my godson Martin. To them I’m Auntie Janet. I’d say it’s the nicest name I’ve ever been called.

Martin at Caitlin’s wedding

Anyway, Sharon asked me to make a watermelon baby carriage for the shower. A WHAT?! I’ve never even seen one let alone carved one. That’s like asking a budding sculpturist to create Michelangelo’s David. Yikes, the pressure!

After a couple attempts of begging Sharon to ask someone else to do it, someone who actually had a clue, I gave up when she emailed me photos of watermelon carriages.

Hint taken, thank you very much
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A Case of Mistaken Identity

Everybody has rats. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.

say what

Now don’t get me wrong; unlike Michael Jackson in the movie Ben, I am not best friends with a rat. I’m quite content with my human friends, thank you very much; taking on a rat is beyond my bandwidth. No, the reason I’m happy is because more rodents mean more feral cats will be saved.

Michael Jackson in Ben

Michael and his besties

You see, my nonprofit, Marin Friends of Ferals, takes under-socialized, un-adoptable sterilized cats (ferals) and relocates them to outdoor homes. Because ferals are the Eco-friendly answer to rodent control, our Career Cat program is booming. While receiving daily meals from their guardians, the cats do what they do best: hunt. It’s a win-win situation…well, except for the poor rodents. Continue reading

What Do I know?

Okay, so here’s the thing.

I don’t consider myself to be an idiot (AKA a nincompoop, ignoramus, halfwit) even though at times I do idiotic things. I could easily fill this blog with some questionable choices I’ve made and maybe I will when I’m drawing a blank one day, hours before my Sunday posting is due. But as you know, my brain goes on strike with anything involving technology. Even at the mention of, say, a router, and my eyes lose focus. Happens every time.confused 2

So you may understand when I tell you I was recently the recipient of an attempted scam, while innocently checking my computer emails. Yes, I, who always wonder how people can fall for emails saying they have 10 million dollars waiting for them in a bank in Nigeria, got hoodwinked.

I hear the elderly fall for this type of scam, called phishing, fairly often. So I guess I’m old. But to my credit, my brain came out of its fog and screamed at me, What the hell are you doing, Janet?! Have you lost your mind? And I’m sure this is exactly what my friend Hilary will say after reading this. She’s a tech nerd, after all.stealing pesonal data

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All Grown Up

You know, time clicks by at a pace way too fast for those of us with skin more closely resembling a Shar-Pei rather than the supple, collagen-filled flesh of our youth. As we of this age know, when we’re young, time seems to move slower than molasses in January.

Well, I’ve learned a few things about that subject, like how youth is totally wasted on the young. I think we should be born old and live our lives in reverse, age-wise, like Brad Pitt in the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Imagine being able to snowboard at age 90 without a single thought of potentially breaking every bone in our body. And wouldn’t it be nice to believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny late in life instead of them only being a memory from the magical world in which we once lived?

And speaking of memory, it’s such a shame to lose it as we age because it’s an essential prerequisite to reminiscing. And what are we without our memories? When we can no longer take a 50 mile bike ride or go on a camping safari in Tanzania because we’re ancient, our memories are what we rely on to remind us we actually had a pretty great life.

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My Quirky Crew, Part 2

So last week you learned 5 of my pets have quirky ways. Who doesn’t, right? But that’s only half of it. There’s still 5 more of my crew who are no less quirky than the others. Trust me here. For instance…

Fat Jack is a perfect example of a dichotomy. On the one hand he’s a lover boy and on the other he’s Mr. Hyde from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The boy has a hint of evil just below the surface and it emerges precisely when he’s being Mr. Lover Boy.

Mr. Lover Boy before Mr. Hyde emerges

You see, Jack enjoys grooming my other cats. He’ll snuggle beside someone and begin licking with his painfully rough sandpaper tongue. But it must feel good because they let him. He licks around the head and face, their eyes closed, basking in his tongue massage and all’s well with the world. For about 3 minutes.

Jack grooming his old buddy, Tippi

Then out of nowhere Mr. Hyde appears. Jack attempts to mount whichever cat, male or female (he’s not picky). He quickly becomes overstimulated and starts neck biting like a vampire. Next thing I hear are cries of discomfort so I shoo Jack away. Now don’t get me wrong; they still come back for more so I can only surmise the pleasure is worth the pain.

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