Fidget Spinner? Nope, just my head.

You know how you have days when you look back and go: What the heck? 

Well, my day started like that on Saturday morning and hasn't stopped. And it's ding dang Tuesday.

First of all, on Friday night, Husband accidentally locked Frost, our cat, on the back porch all night. 

Other than  knocking over a plant and peeing in the floor, it didn't appear damage had been done. After all, the porch is screened in and on the second floor. 

He waltzed in and wanted food. All seemed to be well. 

A few hours later he and our other tom, Eli, went back on the porch and that's when the fight broke out.

Suddenly Eli went berserk. At first we thought a wild animal was outside, but it was Eli and he was attacking Frost.

Now: Eli is a young Maine Coon whose bones and muscle weighs in at 21 pounds. He is a polydactyl, which means he has twelve claws in front and ten in back. His canines are HUGE. 

Frost is an older, declawed (came that way from the shelter) 19 pounds of blubber.

In other words, he doesn't stand a chance.

And every time Eli got close enough to sniff Frost, the fight was on.
We have sprayed water in Eli's face. We have separated them as much as possible.

It's a nightmare. 

So, I called the vet. He agrees something outside changed the way Frost smells. So tomorrow, to further traumatize the cat, we will take  him to the vet for a bath.

We are going to give Eli a chill pill. So when Frost gets back (they will have to sedate him to bathe him, trust me), we'll have two drunk cats. Let's hope when they sober up, and Frost no longer smells funky, all will be well.

What else?

Well, our electricity was off for over three hours last night, which means we don't have water either.

I made the mistake of trying to speak with a customer service rep. at AT&T and almost lost my mind.

Our wheel barrow had a flat tire.

We got stood up for the fifth time for yard work.

Oh, and Mimi (our other cat) got a gimpy leg so bad on Sunday she could barely walk. But yesterday she was better, and today you can barely  notice she's favoring the leg a little. But Sunday, she was pitiful.

I tried to call the local public library today to inquire about a book. The number had been disconnected. I tried twice. Daughter rolled her eyes, took the phone from her senile mother and dialed the number. It had been disconnected for her, too.

I'm sure there's more, but frankly, I just can't think about it anymore.

Excuses, excuses

I haven't blogged much lately, but that doesn't mean I'm not writing. Believe it or not, I'm trying to put a book together to be out in November. I didn't say I'd succeed, but who knows? Maybe.

I've also written an article for the genealogy society, my regular newspaper article, and a few poems and short stories, which I haven't done in a while.

You have to write when inspiration comes along.

Also, as you know, I had an in depth interview that will someday be shown, and that took some thought.

I also had to put on make-up.

And, of course, I had to buy a new outfit for the Georgia Author of the Year Awards, which is next Saturday. I don't know exactly why I had to buy a new outfit, as sitting in that big crowd doesn't call for one, but anyway, I did.

I have a  lot of other excuses, but they ain't as excitin' as the ones I just shared, so I'll just shut up for now.

Husband reveals how he really feels about me...

Looking back

You know how when you are looking for something and never find it, but find other neato peachy keen stuff?

Well, that's what I did.

By the way, if anyone knows where all my elementary school class photos are, please let me know.

I know they are all together. I vaguely remember putting them somewhere else when running across them a year or so ago. They'd been in the same spot for 40 years, but you know how it is...

Anyway, I did find my high school graduation photo: I am in the fourth row from the top, third from the right. This isn't the whole class because the pic was too big to scan.

I also found a "Bobcat's Den" newspaper. it was the last edition of my senior year, so they did a lot of senior stuff. One was what made up the perfect senior girl and I got : complexion. They knew me by: my short stories. they also had a fake reporter to "looked us up twenty years after graduation to see where we were": I was the mother of four children working part time at "the opera house". they also gave seniors an opportunity to do their last will and testament before leaving the high school life forever. Mine read as follows: I, Kathi Harper, leave my height to Denise Davis. I leave my place in the office 6th period to anyone who is in need of losing weight. I leave my short story writing to anyone who likes to be censored and my typewriter to anybody that can perform miracles. I give my peace of mind to all the weirdos around here. And lastly, I just leave.

I read this to daughter and she said, "Well, I see you haven't changed one little bit." 

I didn't know whether to thank her or be insulted. But it did leave me thinking: I'm afraid she's right.

Here's the rest of the senior picture, in case you are looking for yourself: 

Beginnings and Endings

I have two friends who are sisters. Their mother passed away this morning. She had not been well for several weeks, and it was inevitable, but when you have your mama living for 98 years, you just get to thinking maybe she'll stick around.

It made me realize that my grandmother passed away on this same date 27 years ago. As you may have read at other times, we buried her on her 84th birthday, which she would have loved.

I took note too, that my in-laws were married in 1937 on this date. They knocked on the preacher's door and he married them on the  porch in his bare feet.

I wonder how many babies were born today? And how many more folks passed on to the rest of their lives on this very day? 

Or will, before the day is ended.

It could be you, it could be me.

May first: a day of beginnings and endings.

Let Me Tell You About Surgery

In yesterday's blog I casually mentioned that Husband had cataract surgery.

The event, however; was far from casual.

Husband has a "thing" about is eyes. Before I got lazy and wore contact lenses, he would have to leave the bathroom when I put them in my eyes. He eventually learned to stay, but only if he didn't look at me. If  he looked, his eyes would immediately pour water.

If I'm twenty feet away from him and point at something, he responds dramatically by covering his face and saying, with great heat, "You could have put one of my eyes out!"

You get the picture.

So, he's put off this surgery to the point that all he could see out of that eye was blur. Nighttime driving became impossible because the lights were so bright and blurred, he couldn't see anything else.

Finally his nearly 88 year old mother-in-law shamed him into it when he had to take her for a follow up. At least he liked this doctor and after  much sweating, made an appointment for the surgery.

It was, as everyone told him, a piece of cake.

Unfortunately, he has to have drops put in his eye three times a day. Three different kinds. And you have to wait two minutes in between each drop.

Let me say this has not been easy. On me, not him.

First of all, he gives me all this cra detailed instructions about how to do it. Again. From four hours previous. For five days. Over and over.

The grunts and groanings he makes, even before I start with the drops, is akin to a woman in the throes of labor while she lies on a bed of nails, only worse.

Can I take this for sixteen more days without doing bodily harm to Husband?

Only time will tell, I suppose.

Gotta go. It's time for more drops.

Pray, people, pray!

Shopping

Yesterday I went with Husband for his post-op appointment with the doctor. Not to worry, he had a cataract removed, he can see better, all is well.

However; after the appointment, we grabbed a bite to eat. As some of you know, I can't sit for a long time, and by then it had been a long time, mostly sitting.

So I suggested we go in a local department store for ten minutes or so. That way I could walk a little and get on home. Also, since Husband is having his fifty year high school reunion in June, I wanted to see about new clothes. (Yes, he is hundreds of years older than I).

After wandering around in the desert of decent clothing, Husband found me. "I don't think I've ever seen so many ugly clothes in my life." I said to him.

Husband just shook his head, so I asked him was it me and he said, "Nooooo - these are really ugly clothes."

Now, I ain't inferring that either of us are fashion experts. But I am telling you, I ain't that hard to please. And these clothes were ugly.

I'm not talking about a rinky dink cheap shop, either. These ugly clothes were expensive. More than I'd pay for most attractive clothing. 

The only decent thing I saw were women's undies. They had some real purdies there, what there was of them, if you know what I mean.

The issue I have is most my clothes are old. Like as old as my daughter old.

My dressy clothes are circa 1999.

My newer clothes (what few I have) are falling off me since I lost twenty pounds, and my older clothes that actually fit again are falling off me because they are slap wore out and rot's set in.

I reckon I'll have to keep searching to find a "casual" outfit for this shindig. At least I have till the end of June.

Hey! At least they are all so old they won't even notice.

Right?

Whadda ya mean, they've only a few years older'n  me?

Hmmph!