catheroominations

The fog made for less than stellar fireworks photos, but it made the Bay Bridge look pretty cool.

But not for health reasons. See for yourself:

I can’t find a link to this ad, but there is currently a commercial airing that says “If you were born between the years of 1930something and theyearIwasborn, call us now to see how you can help your family pay for your funeral expenses.” Or something like to that effect.

Check you math, Funeral Planner People. I am not old. I’m not! I’m not! I’m not! So stop telling me I should plan for my funeral so my family won’t have to!

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to eat my prunes and go to sleep. G’night.

Our cats are now allowed to sleep in our room with us. This was something I thought I’d never see, when I married a man allergic to cats. But apparently said cat allergy has disappeared because Matte’s had no red, watery eyes as a result of our new bedmates. The sneezing is all me though. Damn pollen.

Last night, we were kind of wound up, having just been to Felton to see Peter Mulvey strum his guitar, sing songs, and tell his incredible stories. It was late when we finally got to bed, and I wanted to sleep, but I just wasn’t tired yet. Neither were Desmond and Daphne - particularly Desmond, since he’s a mere 5 months old. Bedtime = playtime! YAY! Because this whole “you’re-allowed-in-the-bedroom-now” is still a new experience for both of the kittehs, Daphne still thinks she’s not supposed to be in the room, and acts like we’re going to squirt her with the Scary Water Bottle every time we make eye contact with her. But Desmond, afraid of nothing, is still finding new places to explore and climb, many of which elicit “NO!” and “Get out of there!” and expletives from us.

So there we were, reading our respective bedtime stories (Matte with his Money Magazine, and I with my Women’s Health) when Desmond suddenly decided he wanted to be on the window sill to watch all the muffler-less hoopdies race down our street (as they are wont to do until the wee hours). But the window sill, see…it is rather narrow and does not allow for jumping on. The enterprising kitten that he is, Desmond found something wider he could jump onto and climb over it to reach his ultimate destination. What did he find, you ask? Our completely unsturdy clothes dryer. You know the ones.

We watched as Desmond launched himself from the floor, onto Matte’s cargo shorts that were lying atop the rack. Desmond’s front paws grasped the rod, and he attempted to hoist himself with his superhumancat upper body strength. Oh, he was so determined to get up there! Only, the rack (did I mention it is unstable?) ever so slowly began to fall in an attempt to repel the kitteh. And in sooper…dooper…sloooow…motion…with Desmond clinging to it with all his might, the rack descended to the floor, giving Desmond a surprise lesson in gravity. (Remember folks, it’s the law*.)

Then there was a THUMP! of small kitten hitting ground, and the crash of small wood slats and vinyl rods collapsing onto themselves. Desmond quickly exited the room to escape the Evil Monster Clothing Rack and took refuge around the corner from our bedroom door, eyes wide, tail puffed.

Matte and I were in complete hysterics. I’m sure the neighbors thought we were gettin’ busy, with the headboard pounding the wall from our shakes of laughter. Even now, just writing about it, I giggle.

*Physics joke from Matte.

Meh.

That’s how I feel about blogging lately. i just don’t have much to say.

No, I do have much to say, but I don’t want to announce it to the blogosphere just yet. These are good things. Good things that are keeping me very busy. In a good way. I’m gettin’ ‘er done over here, but other things are not receiving my full attention.

My 30 Tiny Moments project has fallen by the wayside. I was supposed to take a photo of a moment in my day for 30 days in a row. I lasted barely a week (and those photos were not taken every day either). Could it be that my tiny moments are so tiny, they do not warrant photographic evidence? I hope not!

Awhile back a few of my blogging friends quit blogging for awhile, or forever. I’m not quitting, nay nay. I just need to get my creative juices flowing again so I can write something. Or photograph something. I have been too busy lately and can’t seem to get my head on straight enough to create anything but piles of laundry.

Maybe I need a vacation. A retreat. To a place where I am not distracted by obligations (like work). The last time I felt that, I was in Hawaii on my honeymoon. Complete and utter relaxation. Stress-free living for 10 whole days. There is something in that Hawaiian air and I’d like to have a dose of that again, please.

I need a kick in the pants to wake up the creative side of my mind.

Anyone know how to do that, without the use of mind-altering drugs? If you suggest Hawaii, please be prepared to send me 2 airline tickets.