Sunday, November 21, 2010

Dangly Bits

Gracie has discovered that she can go under the blankets. A whole new world is under there.

The other morning, after putting the dogs out, Bob let Gracie out of her cage and then came back to bed. (Note, Gracie sleeps in the cage at night because she is still a kitten and because Honey does not realize there is a difference between "kitten" and "snack food". When Gracie is older she will get to sleep with us)

Gracie came running down the hall and climbed onto the bed. I felt her crawl behind my head and head under the covers. I was just drifting back to sleep when Bob yelled, flew out of bed and slammed the bedroom door.

It seems Miss Gracie in her undercover explorations discovered "dangly bits" that looked like a cool new cat toy. She attacked. Bob was not amused.

Doggie Torture

2:30 am and I am wide awake. Insomnia? No. The incessant licking sounds coming from the hallway. Every now and then Sweetie will lie in one spot and just lick the hardwood floor. For some reason this sound is to me like fingernails on a chalkboard. I try to ignore it, but the sound begins boring into my brain.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I tried a stage whisper, "Sweetie, Stop it!"

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I try several more times

Lick lick lick lick lick.

At this point my brain remembers that Sweetie is hard of hearing. I am not.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I get up and stumble to that hallway. Sweetie stares at me innocently and stops licking.

I stumble back to bed and just get comfortable when...

Lick lick lick lick lick.

Damn. I remember that Sweetie can hear different tones so I begin stage whispering at high pitches and low pitches.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I try clapping.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

At this point I am wide awake, grouchy and yell "GODDAMN IT SWEETIE! STOP IT!" This wakes up Bob.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I finally go and shut the bedroom door and crawl back in bed.

Poor MoMo Kitty senses my distress and walks up my body purring. "Mommy, if you pet me you'll feel better!" and proceeds to start licking my hand.

Lick lick lick lick lick.

I can't win.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Flying Walendas vs. WWF Smackdown

Its a quiet Friday evening and I am sitting in the den listening to the sounds of the rain falling outside and the sounds of what could very possibly be the "Flying Walendas vs. WWF Smackdown" going on in the living room. Those sounds can only mean that Mo and Gracie are at it again.

While Sayuri and Miss Itty Bitty want nothing to do with the interloper, she has found a playmate in MoMo. Pretty amazing considering Mo is referred to around here as "Wussy Pussy" and has a fear of potholders thanks to Bob. I really don't think he realized she is going to get bigger and kick his ass.

No one is safe from Gracie. Walking down the hall mean you are subject to attack from "Ninja Kitty" who will fly out of the shadows, bite your ankle or toe and then disappear back into the shadows. I have also been rudely awakened on several occasions by a small grey ball of fur flying at my face. If I am lucky the claws are in and I don't have to head to work looking like the victim of some tragic farming accident.

Mo has his quirks too. He loves to chew on my hair. One day he was tearing around the house like something was out to get him. Turns out he had a dangly poo hooked to one of my hairs that had passed through and every time he stopped running, momentum would cause it to hit him in the butt which led him to think he was being attacked and take off running again. When hubby and I finally stopped laughing, we caught him and rescued him from the "Attack of the Dangly Poopie".

Now as I type this, Gracie is sprawled across my shoulder, purring like mad. Usually we declare the den a "cat free zone" because Gracie thinks the computer is a cool cat toy that is warm and has lots of dangly things attached. When you try to retrieve her from the tower cubby, it becomes a game of "Attack the Finger Monsters" Gracie has yet to grasp the concept that "skin" is different from "clothing".

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Boobs In A Vice

One of the more challenging aspects of getting older is accepting the changes to your body and the new and wonderful medical procedures that you must endure. When women hit the age of 40, we must begin to undergo mammograms. This sounds simple enough. Obtain a digital image of your breast to look for any abnormalities. Unfortunately, to obtain the image you have to place your breast on an x-ray plate and then have it maneuvered into place and then clamped in a vice.



Not only are they clamped and flattened from top to bottom, but then they do them side to side. Its an uncomfortable procedure. The technician will maneuver your breast into place, clamp it down and then tell you not to breath. ("Honey, I couldn't breath even if I wanted to!") You hear the whirr of the x-ray and then the tech releases your boob and tells you to breath as a huge sigh of relief escapes you. If you are lucky, there is no problem with the image causing them to be re-taken.

I have had the procedure done twice. Both times I have had wonderful, compassionate female technicians who were gentle and explained the procedure in detail.

This being said, even though there is brief discomfort in the procedure, the alternative is much worse. I have several friends who have undergone treatment for breast cancer and I would much rather catch it earlier than endure cancer treatments.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Gracie Does Chores

Well! Finally one of the furry critters steps up to do some chores around here and earn their keep!



Thursday, November 11, 2010

"High?" Fashion

I will be the first to admit that I know nothing about "High Fashion" I think the "High" refers to what the designers are when they come up with some of their designs.

This is from the Alexander McQueen ready to wear collection:


Do you think she realizes she has a hubcap on her head?


This reminds me of how they used to bind the jaws of the dead to keep the mouth from flopping open. Obviously they included a couple of beers to tide her over on the boat ride to Hell.


Ever wonder what you could do with a few Hefty bags and some free time?


Even better if have some bubble wrap laying around.



I call this one "Frobot". Wonder what she transforms into?


When the guys from KISS aren't touring, they're walking the catwalk in Paris.


All I can say is, it must have been one heck of a party!

Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cézanne and Beyond

Bob and I seem to gravitate to San Francisco for my birthday. This year was no exception. We went to the DeYoung Museum to see the Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne & Beyond exhibit. My Mother and Grandma Hart both cultivated an interest in the arts in me. They taught me that art is meant to evoke an emotional response in the viewer. Not everyone likes every style of art, but that doesn't mean that the art is bad. We all have different tastes.

We had tickets for 12 noon. (The Deyoung sells tickets at 15 minute intervals to help keep the flow of people moving through the exhibit) We were lucky enough to get to park in the parking garage, use the restroom and have 3 minutes to spare.

I was excited about seeing the exhibit. I never expected the visceral reaction when I walked in. The first paintings I saw were some winter landscapes by Claude Monet and I started to cry. Monet was one of my Mother's favorite painters and just being there looking at the actual paintings, seeing his brush strokes and the actual colors was just so overwhelming. It is one this to see a photograph of a painting, but even photography fails to catch the true colors and emotions of most works.

When I was young, I was not a big fan of Van Gogh. I think subconsciously I was picking up on his anguish and mental illness from his heavy brushstrokes and treatment of subjects. As I have gotten older, I have come to understand his madness and suffering. Several of his painting at the exhibit really stood out to me.

The first is Starry Night.



The colors are so vibrant and the stars seem to leap out of the painting.

The second painting was this self portrait from 1887



The eyes in this painting are haunting. He captured the anguish of tortured soul in paint for future generations. I felt a catch in my chest as I viewed the painting and felt a connection across the years. In a letter to his sister he wrote "I am looking for a deeper likeness than that obtained by a photographer." He succeeded in this painting.

The exhibit is definately worth seeing. I will probably never get the chance to go to Paris, so when Paris comes to me I jumped at the opportunity!