by Rondo, mischief and blogger
Can you believe it? I get to say my piece two weeks running. And so, here goes...
This week has brought another change to Mischief and Mayhem Central. Oh my! It has caused quite a kerfuffle, really and truly. But a good kerfuffle.
As you must know Grammy has been advised to be more careful on her feet. One of the adjustments is to no longer use tripping hazzards like the vacuum. So she hired cleaners to come in monthly to do a thorough clean. She can manage all except said vacuum, dusting the tops of book cases and scrubbing the tub. These things that require using a step ladder or kneeling are as unsafe for her as tripping.
And so, this past week she spent a lot of her knitting time thinking of ways around these limitations. Cleaners only come once a month and the place is usually knee deep (cat knees, that is) in discarded fur and dander despite sweeping floors with a broom. Add to that the expense, especially when Grammy isn't all that satisfied with the service and there had to be another solution.
Well, the thinking has paid off. She hauled out a long-handled scrubber for the tub and will give it a go again. Hopefully she can manage it. Then while doing a search on the computer she saw a couple of other possibilities. A long-handled Swiffer duster for the bookshelf tops - articulated, no less! That should do it.
And then, a SALE of an android to help her learn to balance... a rumba robot. What do you think of that? Eh? Teach her to dance the rumba and she should be able to recover when she trips. Yes, that's the ticket!
What's that, Sweetie? It's not rumba? Well, what is it then?...a Say that again? ...long pause.... OH!
Sorry folks, It's not a rumba dancer. It's a Roomba. Actually, a Roomba Robot. Well, it sounded like Rumba to me. Hmph!
This new dancing partner was on sale so Grammy decide, why not? Let's give it a try. Well, it arrived the next day... yes, the very next day. I was thinking something must be wrong with it if the store wanted rid of it so quickly but Grammy says they are very efficient at delivering purchases.. a consequence of COVID restrictions and a competitive market.
So, back to the story. Grammy set up Roameo Roomba, charged the battery for 3 hours and then they started dancing. Well, that's what it seemed like. He lead and Grammy followed him around watching and dodging his every move.
Alright, she didn't follow him around she just sent him on his way. For an hour and a half he rumbled around bumping into walls and furniture as he learned the layout of the rooms. AND a boot mat got the treatment 6 times and the kitchen 5. They must have been particularly filthy! Shame on you, Grammy! When he was done Roamin' danced a two-step (actually two wheel) back to his docking station to recharge.
Boy, oh boy! Was he dusty and filled with debris! Grammy gave him a good clean, emptied his bin and left him to rest. Second trip a few days later was shorter and there was less bumping and banging into walls. His little computer brain is remembering where to stop and change direction. What a smart wee fellow.
Bottom line? ... The cost of three 'professional' cleaning visits and this wee fellow will have more than paid for himself. And if Grammy wants Mr Roomba to be run every day that's not a problem either... just push the button twice and off he goes. BONUS!
P.S. He's noisy... singing as he dances. We'll let you know what we think about him once we are not so scared of him. Grammy doctored the photo below. So far Sweetie is the only one who's gotten that close to him.
Comments are welcomed. We especially love the funny ones.
by Etude, mischief and cuddlecat
Tomorrow may be groundhog day but let me tell you this. We have a more pressing matter than whether the groundhog predicts another 6 weeks of winter or not. Much more pressing. What could be more pressing than that you say? Well, let me tell you.
We have a bed hog in our abode. Yes, someone of the people persuasion, name withheld to protect the guilty, who takes over our sleeping spaces... and at the most inopportune times. And she's sneaky.
Lately, as you all know, she's had a physiotherapist coming in to loosen up the ligaments, tendons and muscles in her shoulder. AND they have taken over our afternoon napping space to do the physio. The physiotherapist has a 'bed' she can bring for this unnamed person to stretch out on but does she? NO!
You ask why? Well, we've asked that too and here's the answer. This bed hog says there is no need to drag and lug and haul this massive thing from her car up the elevator and down the lonnnnnng hall when there is a perfectly good automatic bed to stretch out on... especially when it can be raised and lowered to suit the needs of the physio. And, the exercise must be good for her too, don't you think? Keep her in shape for the therapeutic manipulation?
Can you believe it? No, I agree. It is so selfish of the bed hog person because that means we, sweet loveable and sleep deprived kitties get turfed to the floor. Yes, turfed! Unceremoniously, I might add. And for a full 45 minutes each time she visits.
Do you see how that cuts into our nap time... Major sleep deprivation!
Not only that, she (the bed hog) insists on taking it over every night for 7 - 8 hours. No taking turns, no giving us a break and sleeping on the sofa for a night. No consideration whatsoever.
What's that you're saying, bed hog? No! 16 hours a day of uninterrupted bed time isn't sufficient for our needs. Our internal clock demands 22 hours of sleep, 1 hour of pets and cuddles and 75 minutes for meals. That is more hours than those in a day and so we are 15 minutes sleep deprived to begin with. To be bed deprived too is unconscionable abuse.
Here she comes with another excuse...
Repeat that Grammy? Oops. Ignore that last sentence. Repeat that bed hog?
When the physio is working on your shoulder we hop on the bed and interrupt? Well, of course we do. Someone has to tell her that she's interfering with our well-being. That she's abusing our hospitality. That we are sleep deprived and *whispers so bed hog cannot hear* and starving! Falling down faint starving!
I tell you. Those two... the physiotherapist and the bed hog are cut from the same cloth... both unmerciful abusers of 3 generous, lovable and considerate cow kitties. No, not Mousie. Scamp that she is... she makes a headlong dash to the livingroom to take over the sofa for herself. Says it's the only time she gets uninterrupted and undisturbed by us sleep. The little traitor.
By Sweetie, fitness trainer and mischief
Good morning, dear friends.
As you can see I, Sweetie, am the blogger this week. Like last week we at Mischief and Mayhem Central don't have much to say. I know this is unusual. More often than not Grammy thinks we have too much to say , too many opinions, suggestions and demands. At the moment we are at a loss for words. Yes, a dearth of opinions, a paucity of suggestions and a lack of ideas for a blog, but never a shortage of demands.
Having said that I think I shall fall back on a topic we kitties love so well... picking on Grammy. *giggles*
Now, let's see. Over the past year she has knitted less than usual despite being home more. Yes, far less. Disgraceful. Oh she finished a few shawls, a pair of slipperboots, two sweaters for a cat, two lady's cardigans, almost finished a third, but fewer wee gowns and hats for the hospital. Shamefully, nothing for us. No toys! No blankets! I tell you, the old girl is falling down on the job.
Oh, and don't think of this as an excuse... She might try it on you but it's a ploy for sympathy. In the summer she imagined herself an acrobat. Yes, she did! Is it any wonder she lost her shoulder and injured herself?
What was that Grammy? ...
Well, of course your shoulder was lost. What else does 'dislocated' mean but 'lost the location of'? How something that is attached can be lost is beyond us but she did it.
Well, we found it for her... and it is back in place now. Yes, we thought we'd velcro the joint back together. Aren't we brilliant? She didn't think so. Ungrateful, we say. Totally ungrateful. But should it happen again, and it had better not, just push those joints back together. Velcro, the wonder fastener. Brilliant!
Of course, while it took hold we opportunists decided to occupy her time more, demand extra feedings, sit on her lap, purr her to sleep, stick like velcro to her side, dive into the wools, yarns and needles and create absolute chaos. And we do it all so well.
The one thing we don't do is tarry near her when she is on her feet. That is dangerous! Very, very dangerous.
Well, that's all for this week, friends. Have a great one.... and NO ACROBATICS! (hint! hint! - you know who you are and I don't mean Grammy!) *Giggles*
Whisker kisses and love, Sweetie.
We've included a few photos for your viewing pleasure!
Comments are welcomed... especially if they are amusing.
by Etude, Mr Attitude.
Oh brother! Hi friends. Can you believe it? We almost had to rush Grammy into the emergency room this week. Well, not really! I'm exaggerating a bit but that wee Mousie has been so darned cute this past week. And cute interprets into sweet, thus the sugar overload.
Here's what's been happening...
Mousie spends most of her time in the bedroom and only joins us in the livingroom occasionally - usually when meals are due or overdue, which happens a lot, let me tell you. (Cheap help! What more need we say?) But if Mousie comes snuffling around Grammy responds. We don't understand that. Of course, the tail tickling the back of Grammy's neck might be a clue to her moving but otherwise...
When we ask for food she ignores us and says things like, 'you just ate an hour ago!' or 'it's 45 minutes until your next feeding time!' For goodness sake, we're cats. We don't have watches, only tummies that grumble. They are our time pieces. But, while the old girl ignores us she won't ignore the little mouse. Up she jumps and heads to the kitchen!
Okay so, back to Mousie and sugar. Grammy has been going into the bedroom more regularly to interact with the wee Mouser (part of her get up and move frequently throughout the day exercise). Lately, whenever she does she leans over the bed and rubs foreheads with Mousie as she reclines in her marshmallow bed and that activates the 'purr machine'. That purring is louder and bigger than the little puss, by far. It is the loudest motor we've ever heard. Louder than mine and even louder than our vocal Rondo.
Well, when Grammy hears the motor going she melts. Yes, she becomes a soppy puddle of goohs and gahs. 'Oh Mousie, you are just so adorable! I want to pick you up and cuddle you!' and then the sugar rush begins.
Mousie seems to like the attention because now she does it every time Grammy visits the bedroom and the glucose levels are rising further and further. Pretty soon we'll need to get insulin for the old dear. Women!
The other thing the little Mouser does is pose for Grammy in the cutest ways. These cause further sugar rushes. It's so disgusting! Of course, it isn't disgusting when we do. (Well, don't tell Grammy but we think Mousie's a cutiepie too BUT, so are the rest of us!) Pictures of Mousie (and us) to follow.
by Sweetie, motivator and fitness trainer.
Good morning, dear friends. Not sure if you have made resolutions for 2021. If not, I'd be happy to help you with some.
Grammy, as usual, hasn't made any... so I've put together a few for her.
1. Feed us on demand... ours... not hers,
2. Play with us every day at least 5 times a day,
3. Share the bed - not take it over,
4. Cuddles.... give us lots and lots of cuddles, snuggles and kisses,
5. Groom us daily,
6. Feed us on demand... ours... not hers.
And the resolutions we furballs have set for ourselves ...
1. Do our daily fitness routine: examples of a fitness routine specifically designed for the M&M crew shown in slideshow below.
2. Accept all pampering with grace and equanimity. Yes, that's it for us. *giggles*
Comments are welcomed.
by Rondo, blogger and mischief maker
Good morning, Friends.
Well, Grammy has definitely been visiting the land of nod or more correctly the land of odd. You may have read on our page... her odd behaviour this morning. If not, then read it here...
She looked out the window from her comfy armchair and said, 'Oh my! We are living in the jungle! Check out the giraffes!' We all scampered to the window to see what she was nattering on about. Nothing!
We couldn't see anything unusual. A bunch of condos, apartment buildings, office towers, the police station we supervise, the daycare and alternative school below us. Same old, same old. What is she talking about?
Then between the apartment building and a condo through a gap is a construction site... a new group of condos is in early stages of construction and in there are two cranes working the site. Now, we might think they look like whooping cranes but giraffes? Nah!
A beautiful white momma and her dusky orange baby swaying back and forth across the site. So, while we think she must be loopy, we must be too... since while we could see what she was looking at we had our own ideas about what they were.
Now back to a little sanity. Here are a few winter photos for you to enjoy of us when we were younger.
Comments are welcomed.
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.
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.
We are cheating here... and borrowing and modifying this from our FB post. We will put our blog on hold again for a while. Typing is challenging for Grammy since she fell last week. But, we had to let you know we aren't ignoring our friends.
Grammy injured herself in another in-house accident and is keyboard challenged. Actually, she is everything challenged as she figures things out.
Never fear. She will find a way for most things and for the important things she cannot manage she has wonderful neighbours. For her health care the hospital has arranged a PSW, and a PT to get her back in working order. Sweetie and Mousie are on nursing duty and we boys are providing lots of kisses and cuddles.
The old dear saw the orthopaedic doctor this morning. While her activities are limited she may use the left hand so long as she keeps the shoulder stable and the arm supported. And he gave her an exercise to keep the shoulder from freezing up. No wild stuff though... YOU HEAR THAT, GRAMMY? ...Luckily she is right-handed for most things. And knitting is a go if she feels up to doing some. The happy face is visible once more.
Never fear, the klutz will be back to her hopefully less-clumsy self by end of October if she behaves.
Meantime know that we love you, our dear friends.
by Rondo, Chronicler of All Things Mischief and Mayhem
Good morning, dear friends.
For those of you who follow us on Facebook you may have noticed that we are not on social media as much as usual. Well, this is not OUR choice. As usual, Grammy has her priorities messed up. We thought we'd sorted things out with her and she understood that Monday morning belongs to us, as does Monday afternoon and evening. Also, Tuesday through Sunday midnight to 11:59 PM is our time. No disputes.
Since Grammy has been home for weeks on end she has stepped up the knitting... you know... that boring hobby of hers. It wouldn't be boring if we were allowed to play with said yarn and chew the needles and cables. What's that you say, Grammy? It isn't a hobby it is a pastime? A way to pass the time? To us it seems more of an obsession. Yes, it does!
Pshaw! Put it that way and we SHOULD BE YOUR PASTIME! Any time you have should be spent taking care of us not playing with balls of yarn and needles. You know... Needles are dangerous. They have points that could harm us. Anyway, the issue is this. You spend too much time knitting and not enough caring for us.
Now what!??? Oh, Grammy! The fact we sleep 22 hours a day has nothing to do with it. We are a 24/7/365 commitment and you are failing to provide this service.
Evidence? You are asking for evidence? Well, here goes. And remember, you asked for it!
1. We only get 6 meals a day - definitely not enough. There's a gap in there - between 2 AM and 7 AM - when we get NOTHING, not a bit of kibble, not a dish of pate, nothing... and you expect us to thrive???
2. Litter boxes are only scooped once daily - and if truth be told - we've noticed a couple of times it only happened on the SECOND day. This is unacceptable. Our delicate paws should NEVER have to step into a dirty box.
3. Grooming has dropped to an all-time low of once a month, if that! Do you realize what that does to our beautiful fur suits? Total mess! And, yes, we have to groom ourselves. Then the fur gets ingested by us and we have to upchuck the mess in obscure places so as not to hear you moan and groan about cleaning up the floor. Hey, it isn't our fault if you step into the soggy mess. You complain when we upchuck ON the floor, so your sandals ... Make up your mind... floor, sandal, pick a place. The bottom line is this wouldn't be happening if you were doing your part.
4. Cuddle time has dropped to an all-time low. Yes, it has, Grammy. What happened to 5 kitties getting 2 hours a day of cuddles and pets and snuggles. Now, if we are lucky we get 5 minutes before you toss us to the floor and pick up that danged knitting again.
5. And to top it all off you insist on an afternoon nap. The bed is OURS during the day. You waltz into the bedroom, scatter us to the four winds and stretch out. What are we to do? Huh? We don't want the other three dozen cat beds and perches. THAT BED is OURS during the day! Isn't it enough you get it from 2 AM to 7 AM? Scandalous!
Sorry, folks. You didn't really need to hear this... but she kept interrupting. I had to set her straight. I tell you, she's a piece of work.
So, friends, if you don't find us on social media very often, please forgive us. We are dependent on the charlady/scribe for most things... and social media is one that we cannot manage on our own. We will be back once we get the old dear sorted... but it may take us most of the summer. Our apologies.
As a consolation, please enjoy our YouTube Videos.
Comments are welcomed.
Five Cats, Five Personalities, One Goal - Mischief & Mayhem.