The End

...of January

Puzzle Garden

They're a mystery, those little green guys hugging the cold leaf blanketed terrain.  I tend to just call them weeds, but they do have identities, everything does; but it's been a futile search trying to find theirs.  One on its own looks like a mouse size meal to a muncher, but they don't come in ones...they come in hundreds...thousands...I'll tally a square foot next weekend for an official; count :)  When much is deadwood brown, they color the gardens in shades of green and are capable of surviving snow, ice, and single digits.  Keeping company with the bigger guy evergreens, they quietly disappear with the coming of summer, just as they quietly appeared with the advancement of fall.

A sea of CatCows amongst us...

They're piranhas with claws and whiskers, swarming in a feeding frenzy when sardines or broccoli...BROCCOLI??? are served. You heard me right.  Cat's pigging out on broccoli.  Mind you, it must be andante and cooled just a tad to lukewarm.  Lacey's the grazer, but what's good for Lacey became good for Jamie; and what was good for Lacey and Jamie became good for Charlotte and Austin.  Zoe knows they're all cracked in the noggin, and looks at that broccoli floret like it is just...well...like it's just a broccoli floret.  Where's the sardine?

It isn't over until the Swallows fly to Capistrano!

It's an indubitable reality that Christmas is a winter hullabaloo in this house somewhere near Hobson Pike.  It never goes away until after March roars in like a lion.  Decorations have been subjected to hyper fine tuning this year in hopes that EBay and Etsy cruising for antique glass ornaments will no longer occupy my days and nights, nights and days, days and nights and oh...did I mention nights and days?  Not much is out there anymore for the offering.  I'm burnt out and really do need to GET A LIFE outside of my computer.

The Commuter's Freeway Guide to the Twilight Zone

• If you decide there's enough time to cross that busy intersection, it's imperative that you didn't take too long to arrive at that conclusion.
• If you didn't drink two cups of coffee before you got behind the wheel of your car this morning, it's in your best interest to give yourself two brisk slaps of the face before you speed to the left around that car just ahead and then squeeze into that itsy bitsy space between that car ahead and that car ahead of that car ahead, two seconds before you have to exit the freeway.

• It's vital that you never fall victim to believing the semi-truck and trailer barreling down the freeway eighty miles an hour next to you cares about you running out of merge lane.
• No one wants to be at the end of the line, so when you pass that car in front of you and the spaces between the line of cars ahead seems non-existent, just go for it.  All those cars have brakes and the name a--hole is just a word, not sticks and stones.
• Sometimes it might be prudent to remember you aren't the only one on the freeway when you change lanes.  It's probably the only time you might get to use those neglected rear view and side view mirrors and maybe the turn signal.

One's Space

It's a myth now days...privateness.  There's a wave of photo snappers out there who think they are entitled to plaster people's faces all over social media...people who are strangers, whether it's to praise, shame, or bash to hell with hateful remarks.  Comments to internet news are packed with serious attitude issues, abusive remarks, and running people through the shredder on assumptions.  When did the general population become so many negative tag-along sheep?  Makes one wish the next ice age would hurry up and get here.

Asi es la vida...

Three weeks since my last bottle of Pepsi, and I feel like I've abandoned my one true soul mate.  Cups of steamy hot coffee and cream squelch the loss of caffeine consequential headaches.  Now to wean myself off of steamy hot coffee and cream :'(

The Jamie Files - Tale 5 Conversations with a Cat

Well, pesty cakes, have you calmed down yet?

If you grab me off the counter and put me on the floor again, I'll bite you a third time :(

I don't think so...frowny face.

Pleassssse...cat's don't do smiley's and frowny's.

Okay, blank head...there's always time-out in the laundry room if you persist on being persistently out-of-control.

I'm starving!  You refuse to feed me more than two times a day and my dish is only half full, bad mommy.

Doesn't that little wad of fat hanging from your tummy and dragging on the floor get in your way, chubby cheeks?

Lacey says extended tummies are a sign of malnutrition and her tummy is ultra-streamline.  She says you love her more than me, mommy meany.

She's a perfect shape because she only eats half as much as you; anyway, since when did you actually start listening to Lacey.  You told me she has it in for you, big time.  What changed, little half-smarts?

Charlotte!

Oh, your real mommy.

She can't be.  I try to lovingly play with her; then she calls me Beelzebub, and beats me up.

Ah...my little terror on paws...she's streetwise.  It's one of your life lessons on how not to be a royal pain-in-the-butt.  It'll make you a better kitty in the long run.

Better than what?  I'm a cat...it doesn't get any better than that.  I'm already the best!

Well - there are cats...and then there are CATS.  You definitely fit into the latter category, my little narcissist.

Am I supposed to understand what you just said?

I'm going to put you on the floor for the third time, and there had better not be another fang hole on my right hand before you hit the deck.

But there's food on that plate you have.

That's my lunch, you atomic headache...it's mine...ALL MINE!  I'm not sharing.