by Rondo, chronicler of the ridiculous
Good morning, friends. So nice to be in the zone again.
Well, the latest in a long line of stupidities... first, Grammy and now, my brother Etude. I guess you have heard that Etude and I have been on a diet - special food to help make us feel full but also it helps us lose weight. Well, it has worked. BUT, Etude has started supplementing his diet with a little extra fibre. FUR, to be exact! He's been eating his fur - first off his front legs, then the back ones were nibbled at and now his belly is pink and bare. So Gross! Disgustingly Gross!
What's that Grammy?
He's stressed? Nahhhhh! That's silly. What could there be to stress about?
What? You must be joking. He doesn't like to be picked on by me? AND he doesn't like all the commotion that began when you fell, Grammy? Pshaw! That's Hog wash! We needed a little excitement around here. It's been pretty boring since Spring and COVID hit.
Well, maybe I should distract him. Now, that's a great idea. Distraction'll do it!
Etude, come here! Yes, come here! I want to nibble on your neck. Oh, gross! No, of course not! I'm not going to eat your fur! You've eaten enough of that yourself and Grammy doesn't have time to knit you a sweater.
But, If I nibble your neck it'll distract you from chewing your ankles and belly. Oh, you're no fun! Well, then, your only other option is to wear the CONE OF SHAME! *giggles* So, the cone of shame it is?
So, let me see. How about some nicknames for you. Hmmmm! Think! Think! Think! Speak up if you like one of them.
How about Flashlight? *giggles* Blink you're eyes and you could send Morse code messages to us at night so we don't disturb Grammy's sleep. *Silence from Etude*
Or, Megaphone? Yes, that's a great one. Have you noticed the radio or television are louder than usual. Me thinks the old girl is a little hard of hearing... well, a little more than usual. *giggles* You could be our spokescat... and with the cone on you wouldn't have to shout and damage our ears. *Deeper silence from Etude*
Or, we could pretend you are an ice cream cone and lick your face. Yep, Sweetie would like that. She loves to wash faces. Now what? Oh, I got it wrong? She like's having her face washed. Okay then, you wear the cone, Sweetie.
Not a chance, Rondo. I'm out of here! *Sweetie scampers away while Etude blinks light daggers: -. --- stop ...-- -- .--. .... -. - .- -.-. -. --- stop (Translated: NO! and an EMPHATIC NO!)
Or, Here we go! How about this? Put the cone on upside down and we will decorate it with ornaments and garlands and you can be our Blue Spruce Christmas Tree. Of course, blue spruce, silly. The cone is blue! Ooooh! Hear that, Grammy! GRAMMY? DID YOU HEAR THAT? *aside - the old girl needs a hearing aid* You don't need to put up a tree this year. ETUDE'S 'VOLUNTEERING' TO BE OUR CHRISTMAS TREE THIS YEAR!
Oh, oh, oh - or better yet, we could put Etude on a Lazy Susan, add some cat toys to the 'tree' and spin him like a whirling top? I like that idea. Yep, best idea yet! *Etude's eyes go wide and he faints* Well, at least now he won't chew his legs for a while.
Glad to be of help, Grammy.
Well, that's all for this week, friends. But if you have any suggestions, please comment. We all want to make him feel better, don't we?
And Grammy Screamed!
Sweetie, chronicler of all things goofy about Grammy
And this one's the goofiest. Believe me!
It was a dark and stormy night. No it wasn't! It was a normal evening. Aunty L and Grammy were chatting on the telephone. Suddenly Grammy let out a million decibel scream.
She almost burst Aunty L's eardrum. While they were chatting Grammy had to wash her hands for some unknown reason. Suddenly a ginormous spider ran along the wall beside the sink. I must say, it was pretty big... almost as big as my paw, black bodied with very long legs.
You may not know this about Grammy but she is terrified of spiders and centipedes. Truly! Why? Well, when she was growing up she would read in bed until the wee hours. Frequently these creatures of the night would invade her room and run across her bedspread or gather on her walls. Even her big, brave brother was scared of the centipedes in that house. They were huge!
Another time while helping her momma with laundry a pale white one jumped out of a drain when she turned on a tap. It must have been at least 4 inches long, or so she says. *Shudder!* Her mom, who wasn't afraid of anything even cringed when she saw that one. Results of these experiences? Grammy terrified forever.
Okay, so back to this latest crisis. She was chatting, washing her hands and she screamed. Poor Aunty L's ears! Well, as scared as she would be Grammy couldn't let it get away. Grabbing some TP she scooped and squished. To be sure it was dead she peeled back the TP and NOTHING!!!!! Where was it? After searching the walls and vanity finally she found it curled into spider fetal position on the countertop and dispatched it forthwith... then into the toilet, FLUSH!
You'd think Grammy could relax then, wouldn't you! Well, not our Grammy! Cleaning her specs... (spectacles/glasses) so she could see more clearly she went on the hunt. Where there's one spider there is bound to be another.
AND SHE WAS RIGHT! There where wall meets ceiling she saw a black dot, and another, and another... eight more tiny spiders...newly hatched and just waiting to creep Grammy out. Well, they got dispatched too. And an hour later, another six surfaced near the vanity and were deep-sixed. Then into the shower, light on and another half dozen. It's a veritable invasion. This could go on all night! *shudder*
From there the old girl progressed to bedroom, livingroom and kitchen finding one more teensy spider on the livingroom wall alongside a moth and they both bit the proverbial dust, tout suite.
You must know spiders eat insects and this moth would be considered dinner at some point in its lifespan but, in this case the moth was 10 times the size of the baby spider so if anything it might have been the moth's dinner if moths eat spiders. Something to Google!! Do clothing moths eat spiders? If I find out I'll let you know...
So, all arachnids as far as we can tell have been TPed and drowned in a swirl of TW (toilet water - and not the sweet smelling kind you find in a bottle) but Grammy is feeling buggy. This always happens after she sees such a creature, even if she knows it's dead and gone. A piece of cat hair fluffs against her leg -SWIPE! SPIDER! A hair on her head flips against her forehead - SWIPE! SPIDER!
The old girl's going to be twitchy all night or knock herself out swatting her head. I think we kitties will sleep in the livingroom until this is over.
P.S. Next day: And the body count continues to rise every time Grammy visits the loo. Such fun!
P.P.S. It has finally ended. The body count is well over 35... but she ran out of fingers, toes and kitty paws to count on.
Comments are welcomed. No more photos, please.
Laziness is Best!
By Etude, Mischief Extraordinaire.
Good morning dear friends,
Not much to say today. Grammy's meds are still bugging her tummy and making her feel miserable. We know this because her coffee consumption is decreased substantially and she has no appetite. Subsisting on chicken noodle Cup-a-Soup and crackers and the odd meal she gets her nourishment but it leaves her with little energy. Yuck. The good thing is that she knits to distract herself and she sleeps a lot.
We like that part. If she sleeps then we are free to either sleep or get into mischief. Well, 30% of the time we opt for mischief and the other 70% is split between eating and sleeping.
When Grammy knits I snuggle in on the arm of her chair and keep her right hip warm and alternate between staring at her with adoration and napping. When she sleeps I cuddle up under the duvet on the bed or nearby. Being the good boy I am, I like to keep a close eye on her. *adjusts halo*
Sweetie is the cheekiest mischief. She bounces on Grammy's wobbly bits when she's sitting or the middle of her back when she's napping, then takes a flying leap and runs a marathon around the condo. When Grammy knits she nips at her yarn and needles and drives her to distraction. *giggles* We love her spunk - Sweeties', not Grammy's.
Rondo has decided that Whiskers' former carrier is a perfect bed and hunkers down in it to sleep. The toy box is above it on the cat tree. He and I take turns taking toys out of the box and tossing them around the condo meowing at full volume to be sure Grammy wakes up. Sometimes it works. Other times she finds the toys in the morning scattered all around the livingroom and bedroom. *giggles*
Mousie is the only one who behaves herself at night. She either curls up on Grammy's pillow or in her marshmallow bed and naps until Grammy wakes up, then demands lots of kisses for being a good girl all night long. Such a little grammy's girl! But then, she's old and frail and deserves all the kisses she can get.
It's the good life, for sure.
Comments are welcomed.
The Great Pickle Fiasco
By Rondo, Chronicler of the Inept.
She did it again. I have decided that if it weren't for us being here to look after the old girl she'd need a full-time caregiver or to be put in a nursing home. Yep. For sure! Well, I don't relish tattling but here goes.... *giggles* Oh, of course I love to tell all...
And here is the latest. No, she wasn't injured. Well, no more than her pride, that is.
Friday, late morning and a grumbly tummy enticed Grammy to the kitchen to make herself a little cup of chicken noodle soup and a sandwich. Now, some may consider it a late breakfast or an early lunch but either way, she really wanted a turkey on a bun with a little relish on top. Nothing too taxing. At least, you'd think not.
A few skinny noodles in a cup, add onion and parsley flakes and top with chicken broth, let sit 5 minutes then nuke and enjoy. The bun takes a little more effort... but still a simple task.
A little butter, a dab of relish and a slice of turkey.... slapped together on a bun and chomp away. Right? Well, to do that she has to retrieve some items from the fridge. How hard can that be, you say? For the normal person... straight forward. For Grammy - well, let us just say... somewhat more challenging.
Now I must tell you... Grammy likes relish on lots of things. It can be Bick's, or No Name from No Frills. Either way the tastes are similar but Bick's is more expensive..... so Grammy opted for cheap last time. The problem is this. Cheap comes in a fat glass jar, and I mean fat. And fat also means heavy. Remember, Grammy is recovering from her injury.
Over that past few weeks she's been struggling with this heavy glass jar. Firstly, she couldn't get the jar open and had to request help. Easy peasy for the PSW, huh! Then, each time she would lift it out of the door shelf with two hands... one to lift, the other to slide under the jar. Even that was a challenge and a couple of times it wobbled and plopped back onto the shelf.
Today, the silly woman picked up the turkey first which meant there was no second hand for support. The jar wobbled and down it went. Not onto the shelf. No! What are the odds? Huh?
Do you know what glass does when it hits a ceramic floor? Yep, you've got it. Glass bits, chopped pickle, relish juice everywhere! And I mean EVERYWHERE! Grammy was not amused.... kind of like Queen Victoria... you know... the "We are not amused!" Queen of 19th Century England.
So, what to do, before we curious furballs decide to check out the kerfuffle? Meal time for kitties was fast approaching and when we hoards are famished look out! The old girl new this and was frantic.
I have to admit I watched from the other side of the kitchen doorway. You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat. Well, I wasn't about to die! No siree! Curiosity had to be satisfied... but in this instance - from a distance. One in a pickle was more than sufficient.
at least she was smart about picking up the glass. She used a lifter/spatula to sort through the relish to pick up the larger pieces of glass and when needed a second one to help scoop smaller bits onto the original and into the bin. No cuts on her hands. Yeah!
Then, what to do with the relish that remained? She got the bright idea to use a PLASTIC (good thinking) sour cream container from the cupboard above the fridge. Opening the door, she reached in, bumped a tower of plastic and it all, yes, ALL, came tumbling down into the relish below. Well, that almost brought tears to her eyes... yes, tears of frustration.
Picking them up one by one she tossed that lot into the sink. I might say she slung them into the sink she was so annoyed. Finally getting to the one she really wanted, she scooped the remaining relish into it and set it into the sink in a sieve to drain.
While it drained she had to address the floor. No silly, she didn't say, Good day, Mr Floor!
Leaving her briny sandals in the kitchen she toddled over to the laundry room, grabbed bucket, mop and a rag or two, filled the bucket with water and set the mop to soak. Rag in hand she returned to the abandoned sandals and de-pickled them setting them aside to dry. (She has learned not to walk with damp shoes on slippery floors, I will give her that.)
Then, mop in hand she swished, swiped and swished it over the floor to pick up the residue juices. Resoak mop, spin out the excess and head in for round two. No, it wasn't perfect but at least once this dried we could be fed. She could go back again with fresh mop, vinegar water and another good scrub later but our tummies must be sated.
The bonus from all this? She was concerned that the dishwasher wasn't full and she needed to run it soon as we kitties had run out of clean crockery. This took care of that... a little rearranging of the dishes so plastics all fit into the top shelf... and away it could go.
Talk about being in a pickle. Only Grammy! *Shakes head* Hopefully she won't be so stingy and splurge on Bick's next time. Plastic bounces. Yes, I observed this when the cupboard dis-engorged its hoard.
Comments are welcomed. Hopefully some funny ones.
And It Snowed
by Mousie, frozen furball.
Good morning, friends. Brrrrr!!!
Snow accompanied November as it arrived yesterday. Yuck.
That means, winter woollens, long johns and all the paraphernalia to stay warm are needed. It's time for Grammy to set aside her sweater and start knitting, blankets, tuques and mittens for us.
Sweetie put in an order for a sleeping bag. The boys want blankets. Etude ordered pink; Rondo wants Rosy Red. As if I couldn't guess. We girls are just happy to get whatever Grammy makes though we won't hold our breaths.
Well, that's it for this week. Stay warm, stay safe and bundle up masks and all if you go out.
Cuddles for everyone.
Comments are welcomed.
Five Cats, Five Personalities, One Goal - Mischief & Mayhem.