Finally Friday

Mom's had a rough week. Tuesday and Wednesday were bad enough, she said, but Thursday was the worst.

She said there was a port that wasn't happy so it kept throwing up errors. When it did that the switch it was living on got sick and died, and made the two next-door switches sick too. Then all three threw up errors and the Big Daddy switch shut all three of them down.

I think this sounds suspiciously like a make believe story, except Mom says it isn't. When the three switches took naps, half the people at her day-hunting gig couldn't work on their computers, because the computers need the switches to talk to the servants. A sultan had to drive up from Mass and find the bad port and move the blue spaghetti that was living there to a new home. It took him two hours to find it.

Then a Mister Cam got sick and backed up production. Mom wanted to blast herself to Bermuda to escape. I don't get it? What's Bermuda?

Then Mom had to make a trip to a vendor after day hunting to celebrate a their home. That was fun, but Mom got caught in a downpour on the way home and she says driving was dicey. Then when she got close to home there was an accident in the road that had traffic backed up for miles and miles. Fortunately Mom got off two exits early and got home the back way.

She almost missed the first two episodes of the new season of Project Runway, but she didn't. She made herself dinner (after I got my foods), and then sacked out on the couch.

Mom says the weekend better be quiet and uneventful. She says she isn't going ANYWHERE, and she might not even answer the telephone.

Oh and NEXT WEEK?  Mom just shakes her head closes her eyes when she thinks about it.

Geez, if I was a lap-napping kitty, I'd have a very busy weekend trying to de-stress Mom.

I think she needs some 'Nip.

Well, maybe not. Maybe I'll get her some chocolate instead.


PS, Yoda had his boy bits snipped last week. Mr Karate told Mom he came back from the v-e-t and walked around like a drunken sailor, bumping into things. I almost feel sorry for the kit.

Almost.

Tattle Tale Tuesday

So you know how it is.  Your purrson gets home from wherever it is they go all day, and they feed you, then they want to change their clothes. Don't ask me why, but they do. Mine does anyway.

Well last night, I finished my dinner and then went over to find Mom. She had changed from her day hunting duds to her usual jeans-and-a-turtleneck.  She had already put on her new sheepy slippers and was looking for her fleece vest because she was a little cold.

(Now I know that if she's hungry, she's colder than usual, so I kept trying to tell her to go EAT, but, well, you know.)

Anyway, she KNEW the thing was in her closet, and it was, but she couldn't see it. She was looking on the hangers. She went through the closet three times.  Then she checked every drawer in the bureau, but it wasn't there. It wasn't supposed to be there, but she checked anyway.  She couldn't find it.

So she went BACK to looking in the closet.  She looked at everything on hangers. Nope.

So she went BACK to looking in the bureau. She opened every drawer. Nope.

I tried to help. I really did. I meowed. I meowed several times.

She ignored me.

After she looked in the closet three times, and after she looked in the bureau three times, and after she checked the coat closet in the hallway, she came back into the bedroom and found it.

Ahem.

Funky Friday

Mom has a cold, and feels crappy. She sounds funny when she talks, and makes the most ickky sound when she puts those tissues up against her nose.  She sounds like she's hacking up a hairball.

I've really had to put my paw down and INSIST she sit in one place long enough to give me scritches. That calms her down and helps her feel better.

Mom loves the Olympics, so I know she'll be sitting in one place a lot over the next few days while she watches them on TV.  I will make sure she rests and gets better.

Wordless Wednesday

All I Want For Christmas

Actually, all I want for Christmas is Mom.

You see, she's been day hunting so hard that she gets home very, very tired. (I wonder sometimes just what she's hunting.)

She doesn't do much. She makes dinner, and is too tired to clean the pots and the pans. (so I can't just jump on the counter any time I want.)

She sits in the recliner and watches stupid stuff on the picture box. (She doesn't play with me as much.)

She hasn't worked in the sewing room since before the Big Turkey. She yawns great big yawns. So big she looks like a lion. (I wonder if she'll swallow a fly?)

She hasn't put any presents under the Christymas tree. She hasn't mailed the stack of Christymas cards she has. (Too busy to buy stamps.)

The hot-as-hell box hasn't had a workout yet. The Christymas stockings are -empty-. (Even mine)

My stash of stinky goodness only has two cans left. (Two).

I dunno what got into my Mom (or what has gone out of her), but I want my busy, noisy, energetic Mom back. (I don't think that's too much to ask.)


(I don't want to run out of stinky goodness, either)

Sunday Wow-day

Lookit this. Mom's servants are neatly organized and there is no more blue spaghetti. You can look here to see what it looked like before.

Mom says she will really and truly take it easy today. She says she hasn't got any energy do to anything else.

Suits me.

Sat-a-Rack Day

Today is The Big Rack Day for Mom at her day hunting gig. Today is the day they will take all this stuff
and try to fit it into this.
(Mom says it's a rack, but it looks like a closet to me.) And she says this blue spaghetti is gonna get tied up.Next week, Mom will be putting another servant into the rack and adding and a wall of fire.

Yeah, right.