catheroominations

OH MAH GODS! BSG season three came in the mail today!


Somebody call Chief Tyrol. I can’t work this thing.

FRAK! No opposable thumbs!

I can’t believe it’s already almost Christmas. This year flew by. Why do they always do that?

This week I am participating in the 7 Days pool on Flickr once again. I love this pool because, unlike the 365 groups, where you have to shoot a self-portrait every single day, with 7 Days, I only have to do it for one week. As someone with self-diagnosed ADD, this is the perfect group for me. Plus, the entries are so creative, and each time around, new people join. I highly recommend you join to and shoot yourself for 7 days straight the next time the group starts. My previous entries are here, here, and here. During the Spring 2008 edition of 7 Days (the most recent one I participated in) we had just gotten Desmond and I was shooting photos of him constantly. I put him in one of my self-portraits because he was just too cute not to. So this round, I decided to include him again, so everyone could see how much he’s changed in just nine short months. He just had his first birthday on December 7, and has grown into a full-sized cat. Still a cutie, but much more uncooperative for photos. Quite unwieldy, that one.

This is Cletus:

Cletus lives in our backyard. Every night the cats assume the meatloaf position and wait for him to appear. When he does, they stare as he entertains them by sitting still for long periods of time. Desmond and Daphne reward this trick with noises like “gah” “murrl,” and “errddgh”. Sometimes he moves and it’s very exciting for them when he does.

Cletus used to have a girlfriend, Blanche. But we only saw her once. I think she dumped him because he is lazy and not much of a provider. The junebugs plop onto the concrete and he just sits there. He makes no effort to catch the little bits of crunchy grossness unless they are within his immediate reach. Maybe he’s depressed, being single and all, and has lost his appetite. He does look a bit sad since the first time we saw him, with Blanche on a night out. Now that I think about it, she seemed rather distant that night. Maybe that was the beginning of the end.

I feel bad for lonely Cletus, so some nights, I’ll turn the patio light on and look for him with the cats. When he makes his appearance, I talk to him. He’s not much of a talker though. And like many men, he doesn’t seem to hear me. Maybe that’s what ultimately made Blanche leap ship.

He is sort of cute though, in an amphibious way, isn’t he?

But not for health reasons. See for yourself:

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.