Mom would always exclaim that a wild eyed feline racing through the house in fourth gear, ricocheting off walls, maneuvering across an obstacle course of furniture at the speed of light...bric-a-bracs flying left and right, sliding over tabletops and polished floors taking linens and papers along for the ride, was just a cat feeling it's oats...high-spirited...like a dog with two tails...zippy...zappy...vivacious.
Lacey, Lacey, Lacey...feeling her oats doesn't even begin to describe little Miss Naughty Pants. Holiday decorations hidden back in their boxes in an attempt to be spared the fangs and claws of mayhem and destruction...dinner with a glass of wine, fly swatter, and squirt bottle to thwart off monkey-faces' stampeding tootsies doing a jitterbug on the dinner plate while clamping her jaws onto my meat speared fork...and now drowning in sleep deprivation from purring yowling growling that is just one decibel below a rock star band, as a neutered Andee bats and swats an un-spayed Lacey all over the joint, cause she's a frisky little tart sashaying all around him, and he'll have absolutely none of it...it just doesn't do a darn thing for him :(
Oh, how I'm dreaming of something un-Christmassy for that vet and his put-on-hold-until-she's-better-than-best spaying timetable, as all hell has broken loose in our household with an indoor kitty-making-machine on a mission to pop out a few little kitties of her own.
Line 'em up!
Wind blowing through the treetops sending chills up my spine, as one of the shortest periods of daylight of my year is finding me composing a short newsletter so short on time that it missed my outgoing holiday cards...so it's for your eyes only if you should happen to stop by on your way to Christmas.
Searching high and low each year for the perfect Christmas card embellished with cat or cats (hmmmmm...one odd year with loopy dogs), a few Christmases' ago one from the United Kingdom sent bells ringing and fireworks blazing across my sky; so mailed out all those square little jobbers only to have them all come back with insufficient postage rudely stamped across their face...we can do anything...well, almost anything except send a square envelope first class without extra postage.
Last year it was a cute little handmade number from Etsy with Dickens' cats singing carols on a snowy street corner. This year it was hodgepodge grab-what's-left any old card from two different Hallmark Shops, Target, Walgreen, Rite-Aid, and Perkin's Drugs. My spirit somehow has been a bit deflated this holiday season, no oomph, no giddy-up-and-go, no angels singing on high.
Only about half of the decorations could be set up due to a little stinker pot named Lacey. No presents by the mantle waiting to be opened Christmas Eve...my budget channeled into selecting a nice little pressed glass antique for mom's 90th birthday on the 29th of this holiday month. Can you imagine! Now that's truly something to celebrate, cause she's still doing remarkably well!
Christmas dinner hasn't been figured out quite yet...oh, the last minute intrigue of shopping for eats when time has already flown out the window. We aren't traditional, so Italian is always #1 of the choices, but Italian what??? Hmmmmm...
Did purchase four thick, extra-large, colorful, slightly over-the-top Italian felt stockings to be hung by the fireplace with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas is out there somewhere and not truly just an adult fabrication to trick little
brats tykes into being good for the year.
I'll be absent in body and mind from THE JOB until next year, cause I can with only three days leave involved...hooa-a-a-a-ah. Eleven days of doing nothing but feeling the love of the Christmas spirit...works for me.