Gone Girl: A Suicidal Spider

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Good news…I’m now able to access previous blog posts since I couldn’t the last two weeks. Still can’t post an original one. But I’ll take what I can get at this point until I find a human who can fix the issue. Apparently, WordPress has no humans available to assist technologically challenged idiots such as yours truly. So thanks for bearing with me until this gets straightened out.

I hate killing things. I shoo flies from the house and scoop up spiders to bring outside. When my cats bring in lizards (once I found one staring back at me from my pantry shelf), I place them in my critter container used specifically for their release.

for-critters

I’m considered to be a pescatarian, not to be confused with a Presbyterian. That means I don’t eat meat but will eat seafood. Prawns, calamari and scallops are the extent of my fish consumption. They don’t have faces, making it somewhat easier for me to swallow them.

cow
Thanks for not eating me

I suppose technically prawns and calamari have faces, so someday I probably won’t be eating them either. I don’t know how long I can handle the guilt before I go completely veggie. I’m Catholic so I harbor a fair amount of guilt.

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A Christmas Tradition

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I guess you could say my Christmas spirit was missing in action this year. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like me to forgo decorating with enough holiday decor that borders on being embarrassing. However, I was swamped with work so finding time (and the gumption) to drag everything from the shed was rather daunting. So I skipped it, other than placing a wreath on the front door, giving the illusion I’m festive.bah-humbugNormally I invite my 10 besties over for a tree decorating party in early December. We eat, drink and are consequently quite merry. Karen hangs the lights because she does it best. The gals hang most of the ornaments, yelling at me to “Come help us!” That’s because I’m usually busy gabbing. Dinner is just a ruse to lure them over. I’m like Tom Sawyer, only instead of painting my fence, they decorate my tree. But this year I gave them a reprieve. Continue reading →

Partners in Crime

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Thanksgiving began with a phone call to my friend Sue.

Me: Just a heads up I may need you later today, so keep your phone nearby.
Sue: What’s up?
Me: You’re my one phone call I’m allowed from jail. Oh, and don’t forget to remove the turkey from your oven before coming to bail me out.
Sue: Okay, will do.

You may be able to deduce from this conversation that Sue knows me well enough to realize one of these days I’ll be arrested for helping animals, probably cats, and if that means doing something illegal in the process, so be it.

Careful of the nail polish, please.

Careful of the nail polish, please.

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Copycat

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copycat2

I’m living with a copycat.

The weird thing is, it’s an actual cat. No surprise I guess, as I’m assuming the saying originated when someone astute recognized that kittens tend to copy their mothers. Hold on while I google that. Okay, I’m back. Turns out the earliest reference to copycat was in 1887 with no mention of felines. After that it gets too boring for words, so Iet’s move along.

My copycat happens to be my cat Tippi, so named because her tipped ear is severe. Seems ever since I adopted the ever-entertaining Jack a few months ago, Tippi’s personality has changed. And not, might I add, for the worse.

tippi

Tippi

I trapped Tippi in a feral colony 2 1/2 years ago in the small farming and ranching community of Valley Ford. Tippi and her 21 assorted siblings were born under the grocery store. Thankfully, the store owners asked us (Marin Friends of Ferals) to have them spayed/neutered before she had 41 siblings. Long story short, I ended up keeping Tippi after realizing she was a tweener – not adoptable at the shelter yet not feral enough to be content living under the market.

valley-ford-market

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A Day of Thanks

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So here we are 3 days after Thanksgiving and I’m not feeling even a tad bit sorry I essentially hibernated the whole day. Well, except to walk the dogs. Other than that, I had a glorious indoor day all to myself…unless you count my 9 pets and a feral foster kitten who hates me.

You see, with Covid-19, I opted to heed warnings about not congregating with anyone outside my immediate household. Hence, my menagerie and I had a pleasantly quiet Thanksgiving — sans my barking dogs alerting me to every person strolling by. And as it turns out, there were droves of strollers.

Although I wasn’t with family or friends this year, I actually enjoyed the day. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not anti-social and I love the aforementioned dearly, but it was nice not to NEED to be somewhere or HAVE to do one single thing if I didn’t want to. And I didn’t want to. Thus, commenced a guilt-free day all to myself.

Often lately I feel like a rat obsessively running on a wheel, round and round until collapsing in exhaustion. I guess many of you can relate. Busy is my middle name and although I prefer to be, sometimes ya just gotta decompress, you know what I mean?

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