Posts….

Things that go bump in the night…

(It’s Halloween week, so it seemed appropriate)… Halloween hasn’t been very much of a big deal in this neighborhood. This year it’s on a Saturday, and I HOPE that means that trick-or-treaters will be coming on the 31st. It’s odd here, in that they MOVE the trick-or-treat day…don’t get it at all….the 31st is All Hallows Eve…not a different day.

(And who knows, maybe this year I will even have trick-or-treaters in COSTUME, not just a bunch of teens in messy t-shirts with rumpled Ukrops bags…)

What DOES go bump in the night around here are the acorns…acorns It sounds like gunfire, a steady machine-gunning of the house; a good stiff wind in the deep dark night can be incredibly disorienting when you think you are alone in the house!

We removed some oak trees two years ago, and left others, but pruned them. Apparently the gentle pin-balling action of the acorns from the branch down, leaf by leaf till they gently and quietly plopped onto the roof has given over to a rapid-fire falling and smashing against the roof! And they fall. Fast. The squirrels can’t keep up with the feasting (…although they try, really, they try.)

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(The remains of a squirrel feast on the corner shelf of our gazebo, also known to the local bushy-tailed as “The Squirrel Day Spa”)

I’m expecting other things to go bump in the night, as well.

Our two new kitties (Rory and Thaddeus, maybe? Sebastian and Delos? Dale and Squirrel for the moment) are here …somewhere. They managed on arrival to fit their fuzzy Maine Coon butts under the trundle part of the bed in the guest room. I’m being generous when I say its 5 inches of clearance, but they had to climb thru the bars to even gain that much. And yet they pulled their 11 and 14 lb bodies down there!

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Since then, they have moved to the bottom shelf of the CD case and behind the living room couch. Where they are now, I couldn’t tell you.

But something tells me that in the middle of the night, they will come out to explore the house under cover of darkness…(and they may find Miss Tatiana doesn’t approve…) Things could certainly go bumping around tonight!

Christmas is coming…

…and I am aware that I’ve been slacking… Did you know almost 40% of your holiday prep time is GONE gone gone… and here I am, neglecting the posting of my “Christmas is coming, the sky is falling!” blogs…

My excuses, such as they are, are as follows:

  • I’ve been hanging out with friends.
  • I’ve been traveling.
  • I’ve been taking photos (Almost 600 images that I have shot over the past few weeks are grinding around in the computer waiting for processing so you can buy them!)
  • I’ve been fondling my quilting fabrics, thinking, planning, plotting….
  • I’ve been buying out the book section at Goodwill, so I have many more excuses not to do housework.
  • Oh, and housework.
  • And work-work.

Yet, time waits for no woman to prepare for the holidays. I DO have my Christmas cards already. They aren’t signed or addressed or stamped, mind you, but they are HERE!

I have the gifts for that list of ‘just a little something’ people almost completed, and I do have a ‘short-list’ of gifts for the majority of the family. Which is really a SHORT list this year (No, not the family–I haven’t off’ed anyone! Just the quantity of gift$ per person…)

The biggie is always Timmy. As I usually get one REALLY GOOD IDEA. And then, his birthday occurs on December 2 and I end up giving him the REALLY GOOD gift then, and have to hit the drawing board again….

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Of course, since these two beauties will be joining our family on Sunday, I may just buy him stock in lint rollers—meet …well, Nameless and Nameless Jr.- (25 combined pounds of FUR)

I posted a poll last month. You responded that you feel that handmade is better. You preferred to give and receive thoughtful (and possibly handmade) gifts.

So, share with me, and the thousands (lol) of other dedicated readers…What are some of your favorite gifts you’ve received –and why?

And, one last thing…if you are looking for a bit of spiritual whimsy to add to your holiday stocking, check these out…my brother’s newest cool venture!

 

Skimbleshanks…

(This post was supposed to be about our great adventures in New York this past weekend. That will come another day.)

We didn’t even want a cat. Not at that moment. We were newly married, living in a rented house, and more importantly –cat sitting for Michelle. The resident cat at our home was Miss Bugly. She was not—um, well (no offense, Michelle)—lets just say old age didn’t mellow her. She was a grumpy old lady.

So, we didn’t want a cat.

But when someone tells you a tale, of how when driving home in the icy, wet night, he spots a dead kitten on the side of the road, and goes home, upset, and then gets back in his car and out into the night to go back to find the kitten, and when he does, he is not dead, but so sadly abused, and he asks if you would take him as he already is over his limit at 15 cats (23? 38?)…how do you say NO?

Joe brought us this little scared, long-haired, scared, bushy-tailed, orange, scared, copper-penny eyed, scared abused boy.

For a good number of weeks we didn’t know if there had been amateurish attempt at de-clawing or if he had simply dug himself out of whatever he was locked in. His paws were scabbed and he had no claws when he came.

He came with this sock. Hamish 001

He took to Timmy immediately and it soon became apparent he was Timmy’s cat, although he bonded with me. Beyond that, he came out after much prodding for approximately 6 people. Everyone else was sure we were delusional when we stated we had an orange cat.

In that first home he loved to sleep on the bar in the closet that held hangers (Yes, the skinny round one…quite hysterical to watch him aim for it)

Quickly however, he was banned from the bedroom because he did not come in to lie at the foot of the bed, nor did he even simply want to sleep on your head.

He felt himself on duty, as Skimbleshank was in the TS Elliot poems. He spent the entire night on a routine patrol of the bedroom. Up, over and across every surface, continually. There was no sleep in our household.

We moved into our new home, and Miss Bugly moved back to Michelle’s, and our new bedroom door was thought to be a battering ram that he must destroy, in order to rescue and be with us.

From the earliest light (4 or 5 am on), he would begin by hollering at us, a crescendo of wails and pitiful song; then his paws would appear, pulling on the bottom edge of the door, rattling it loose. When that didn’t work (and it didn’t) he would begin with a running leap and attempt to use the door knob. Repeatedly. He KNEW that was the way in to rescue us. See?

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(You may need to click on these to see the determination with which he applied himself to rescuing us from the closed door.)

There were nights I can recall Timmy sitting on the floor in the hallway with the boy, holding him, trying to calm him.

Eventually, we decided that what he needed was a pet. So we found a beautiful black little lady and brought her home to be his companion, so we could sleep nights.

(She couldn’t be bothered with him… and he didn’t get the message. It made for entertaining evenings.)

For the most part, it did stop the attempts at breaking down the door. But when you opened the door in the morning, you were sure to find him, sitting, waiting; determined to anticipate where you would head next, he would run forward and back, checking on your progress.

He was loud—he didn’t meow, but instead he chirped. The number of tales that could be told, have been told, will be told,… well, he was a funny boy. Timmy has many funny thoughts over on his blog. And there are other little stories and pictures here on this blog, if you look in the tags for KITTIES.

His name was Hamish McCloud Green.IMG_1482 copy

But we called him Hamish the Red, or Hamish the Bad, or Hamish the Scared (or Fuzz Butt….)

(about) 10-31-2002—–10-13-2009

The house will not be the same without him. Our hearts wont be either.waiting1

He’ll rest just outside this window— his favorite spot to watch the world, dream about being brave enough to go out there and chase the squirrels, and to wait for his people to return. He’ll have his sock with him. (Timmy posted some of his own thoughts on his blog here ….)