Thursday, December 31, 2009

12 Lessons Learned in 2009

1. An ipod is waaaay better than a "spongepod".
This was a year of techno tragedy for me.  My beloved ipod which I affectionately called "The Brick"...it died. It actually got a frowny face on its screen when I attempted to revive it.   The thing's been my companion for over decade, which is why it's called "the brick", it was an original.  You know,  the ones that felt like they weighed ten pounds,  almost half an inch thick.  Yes that ipod, and I totally got made fun of for still using such a dinosaur.  But I loved the thing. It was 60 gigs full of pure joy, no video, no cover art, just pure music. And with its massive weight, it added some strength training when I jogged with it.

Because  I am a lover of music, this tradgedy soon had me suffering with drawls from living a life unplugged.  My music/audiobook/language lesson cravings became more than I could take.  After the first day of silence I began to get the shakes and knew something drastic needed to be done.  In a feverish attempt to get a fix, I rummaged through Connor's closet and found a temporary solution...I call it "The Spongepod".  It helped with my horrible music withdrawals and eased some of my symptoms temporarily.  But what I learned was that the sound quality of my ipod serenading me from my Bose docking station, well it's A LOT better than a spongepod.   But it's all I've got for now.


2. If you like it, it will be discontinued.
If I could choose one word to sum up 2009 it would be "discontinued".  So many favorite things that I just can't get anymore.  It almost keeps me awake at night.  Here's some of the things I miss the most:
  • Italian hot chocolate at Starbucks
  • Ginger Body Soufle from The Body Shop
  • One of my favorite restaurants, Pasta Piatti, changed their menu.  Now where do I find the best bruchetta and bistecca??  This is why I went there.
  • My favorite household cleaners: Lysol's Rain Clean, Shower Power (should have been called Stainless Sink Power if you ask me), Comet with the handy flip cap, and that great smelling Lysol disinfectant that came in the white and purple sprayer.
  • Nitro Circus.  What will Connor and I watch on TV together now?
  • Zicam.  Who cares if it ruins your sense of smell! It was good stuff!  Besides, most would agree that the life of a parent would be much better off without our sense of smell.  It's a stinky business raising kids.
  • "The Brick", goodbye dear friend, you will be missed.  They just don't make them like you anymore.
  • My Thirties. Discontinued.

     3.  I'll never be a sniper, I have bad aim.
    The full story on this one is found here on my other blog...Diabetes Diaries but suffice it to say that I'm still getting used to changing Chloe's insulin pump and I'm still not very good at it.  The poor girl.  Here's the shorter less humorous version of my lesson learned.

    Chloe called me from school a few weeks ago because her insulin pump ran out of insulin.  I went down to fill it back up, but when you do, you also have to change the needle out that goes into her body.  To change it you use this lovely mechanism I lovingly call "The Torpedo" because it looks like a rocket launcher with a very long very scary looking needle at the end of it .  You load the thing, cock the darn thing back, aim, and press a trigger (I stop short of yelling, "Fire in the Hole!" because it tends to scare everyone).  I got everything ready then I numbed the place on her belly where I was trying to put it (meaning STAB HER WITH IT).  Sure enough, I pressed the trigger and totally overshot my target!  Poor Chloe turns red and holds her breath to keep from screaming.  She didn't let out a peep but she sure furrowed her brows at me to give me a warning look that I had totally screwed up.  When the threat of a painful scream had abated, she took a deep breath and said, "Mom, you really need to get better at that."  Lesson learned, I'll just never be a sniper, I've got bad aim.  I'm now looking for victims volunteers who will let me do a little target practice on them, it's for a good cause...any takers?


    4. We're lucky to have a techno-geek living in the house.
    Need your home computers all networked together? No problem.  Want a central printer to wirelessly take orders from any computer anywhere in the house? No problem.  This is all due to Mitchell our techno-geek.  He is handy to have around.  When he leaves for college we're worried we'll have to pay someone to help us change our TV's input from satellite to DVD cause he's the only one who knows how to do it.  The kid rebuilt my laptop after it flat lined (I might mention this happened just three days after my ipod died) and he also loads all our videos so they're blog-ready.  Mitchell also has our 26 digit number/letter password for our internet memorized so we never have to look it up; he can recite it in his geeky sleep.  We're lucky to have this kid around, but don't tell him that, he'll start charging us hourly fees.


    5.  Pardon the expression but...If you blog something bad about your cat, you'll piss it off.  Literally.
    Just hours after I posted my cat hating blog entry Political Coup, the dang thing found my down coat in our mudroom and sprayed it.  It's never ever done anything like this before.  This is war.


    6. We can actually answer the age old question of how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
    The answer is: A LOT more than the boys bargained for.  Our house has a really amazing wood stove we built into a fireplace.  It's recessed into the rock so it doesn't even look anything like the old wood stoves used to.  We keep it burning all winter long and our house gets so warm we wear shorts in the winter and usually have windows and doors open.  Most folks come over fully bundled for the winter and quickly shed most of their clothes.

    Poor Connor and Mitchell have learned that wood heat warms twice.  Once when you cut and stack it, and then again when you use it in the stove.  We love the cozy heat, but the boys dread all the work.  Little do they know we just like keeping them outside and out of trouble.


    7.  Pushing your sister out of an airplane is one of life's true pleasures.
    Back in July I decided that I was gonna turn 40 kicking and screaming as I hurled myself out of a plane.  Best decision ever.  But an even greater and most unexpected pleasure sprung up from the whole adventure.  I talked my sister Steph into going with me.  She did not like the idea whatsoever but I insisted.  I jumped last so that I could watch her take the big leap and I'll never forget it.  Her face was frozen with fear, her arms crossed over her chest, fists clenched for dear life on her parachute straps, and the distinct shape of her mouth as she looked at me from the edge of the open door and formed the words "I hate you".  Then she was gone.  For me, that was more thrilling than the actual jump! (Birthday Blog)



    8.   I still cave under peer pressure at the age of 40.
    This one is the most embarrassing lesson I learned this year (yes, even worse than lesson #10).  I knew it was wrong and that I should have never tried it.  I should have just said no.  I even resisted at first but everyone was doing it.  Oh, I'm sooo ashamed.

    I went to see New Moon.  There I said it.  I don't even like Twilight.  In fact, I hate it.  But when a huge group of friends all invited me to go I totally caved in.  I even explained to them my strong aversion to the book, the movie, the whole lameness of it all and turned them down the instant they asked me.  But they kept insisting.  So I went.

    I don't think they'll ever invite me back because I spent the whole time choking back the giggles.  I watched the whole affair with my scarf tightly over my mouth that I removed only when a shirt-less Jacob appeared on the screen which I felt required loud mocking cat-calls. 

    Hopefully all the girls will forgive me.  They are a great bunch of fun.  The movie was just a little too much for a self-proclaimed tomboy like me.  You'll notice I'm the only one in the photo that doesn't sport a fancy New Moon shirt (but I did steal a friend's weird Jacob pillow which she brought to the theater).  Unfortunately I couldn't find my t-shirt that says "I'd rather be home bathing my cat" or I'd have worn it.



    9.   I can flirt in French.
    Seriously, I got really good at it.  Unfortunately it only worked on men over 75.  But what the heck.  This past spring I got to brush up on my crappy high school french when I spent a month sailing around a bunch of french speaking Caribbean islands (Touring the Leewards).  By the third island, I often had an entourage of really old Frenchmen following me around.  Good to know that at 40 and still got it, even if it is with just the over 70 crowd!


    10.  I'm a total idiot.
    This lesson will not surprise you.  I'm a little slow so I'm just now picking up on my personal failings in the smart department.  I'm sure most of you have suspected or even confirmed my idiocy for years.  So how did I come to learn what most of you already know?  A toothbrush.  Yes, that's right.  A toothbrush.

    You see, I have a favorite one I've been using for a couple of years.  Actually, not the same one, don't be alarmed.  I mean the same BRAND of toothbrush.  It's got a great handle and medium bristles that are great for scrubbing teeth.  I love a good toothbrush.

    About a month ago I  updated our toothbrush inventory and decided Mark should give my brand a try.  I threw his old one out and switched it for the new one and waited to see if he noticed.  Later that day he remarked, "I love that new toothbrush you got me.  The motorized bristles are awesome."

    "Motorized bristles?" I said with a look of bewilderment.

    After some serious jokes at my expense, I went and studied my beloved brand of toothbrush that I've been using for over three years.  Sure enough it's motorized.  No wonder the darned thing is so expensive!  So that's what the plus and minus on the handle were for!  I'm an idiot.  What can I say?


    11.  Put on your shoes.
    This is a hard lesson to learn but we're doing it.  We don't think about it, we just put on our shoes and get out there.  It's brought more energy and health to our lives.  Mark completed his first triathlon in which he placed second in his age group...and my sister Steph, my sister Wendy, and I all ran in our first couple of races. Wendy is a gladiator woman, she kicks my behind every time.  Most days it isn't what we want to do but we've learned to just put on your shoes.  ( Mark's Tri )



    12.  Weddings are expensive. 
    Throwing a reception in the backyard sounds cheap.  It isn't.

    Finding a new son that fits perfectly into the family, a blessing.


    12.5   I am blessed to have amazing friends and family.
    Throwing a reception in the backyard sounds easy.  It isn't.  I learned that I have some pretty amazing friends (you know who you are...Petersens...and Lesley) and some hard working family members who let me boss them around in the kitchen, the yard, and everywhere else.  I still get teary and overwhelmed with feelings of deep gratitude for our amazing friends and family who helped me pull off one blissfully perfect day.

    Wednesday, December 23, 2009

    The Eyebrow Collection

    In honor of Connor's 11th Birthday, I give you...
    The Eyebrow Collection

    Happy Birthday Connor!

    Tuesday, December 22, 2009

    48 reMARKable Facts


    48 Facts About the Birthday Boy:

    1. Won't eat bananas, too squishy.
    2. Found a dead body when he was a kid.
    3. Speaks fluent Japanese.
    4. Hardcore grammar cop, he'll even correct a love note.
    5. Rarely reads non-fiction.                                                           (and only Michael Crichton and Clive Cussler if he does.)
    6. Hates needles, blood, and gore-but has 3 diabetic kids!
    7. He's a fish underwater, he can free dive and recover items that go overboard without even a mask and snorkel.
    8. Can ride a wheely on his quad for several miles.
    9. Has taken his wife out on a date every friday night for the last 19 years.
    10. Collected sharks teeth as a kid growing up in Santa Cruz.
    11. Hates Guacamole, too squishy, too green.
    12. Expert at finding lost items his wife loses.
    13. Finished a triathlon, training for more.
    14. Goes to bed excruciatingly early, always has.
    15. Serious lawn connoisseur, loves to mow and edge.
    16. Chews on his straw when he's done drinking with it.
    17. Loves giving family speeches.
    18. Laughs hysterically at the Three Stooges, Pink Panther, Monty Python, Caddy Shack, Home Alone, Chevy Chase movies, and all other ridiculously silly comedies.
    19. Loves to chew gum but hates it when people chew it with their mouth open.
    20. Never sleeps in.
             (his motto is: "You can sleep when your dead.")
    21. Notices details...
    22. ...but Forgets peoples names.
    23. Doesn't like it when people stand around with their hands in their pockets.
    24. Half Southern, his mom is a Southern Bell through and through.
    25. Picks up the downstairs every Sunday morning before everyone wakes up.
    26. Avoids eating onions, hates it when others do and breathe near him.
    27. Loves to climb steep hills on his bike.  Likes to time himself and break his own climbing record.
    28. Doesn't like dirty floors and will mop or vacuum them so they're clean.
    29. Doesn't realize his wife never cleans the floors cause she knows he will if she lets it go.
    30. Will stop along the road and help people change a flat tire.
    31. Hates pudding, too squishy.
    32. Likes Good n' Plenty candy (we call it Bad n' Too Much).
    33. Was a passenger in a car that flipped three times.
    34. Listens to talk radio.
    35. Can make waffles and Grilled Cheese, that's it.  Oh wait, he can also make killer reservations!
    36. Holds a pilots license, scuba license, sailing license, ham-radio license, and an Autotopia license from Disneyland.
    37. Gets made fun of by the rest of the family for having the ham-radio license.
    38. Likes to make his kids work.
    39. Keeps his truck annoyingly clean.
    40. Owns a trailer for every occasion.  A small trailer for his riding lawnmower, a trailer for his trash, a trailer for his equipment, and a trailer for his toys.  Way too many trailers.
    41. Doesn't like carving pumpkins, too squishy.
    42. Dreams of taking his family sailing for a year.  
    43. Likes to clip his kid's toe nails so they stay clean.  And paint Chloe's fingernails for her.
    44. Likes black licorice (Ewww!). Loves black licorice covered in chocolate (what a horrible thing to do to chocolate!).
    45. Loves to ski, snowboard, wakeboard, and ride quads.
    46. Hates following behind really slow drivers on rural roads.  He and Mitchell like to compete for the record of who has followed the slowest driver all the way home.  (The record just recently got re-set by Mitchell who claims he followed behind someone going 21-the speed limit is 55!)
    47. Never gets poison oak.
    48. Celebrates his birthday at midnight so he can share it with his son whose birthday is the following day.
    Happy Birthday Mark!

      Friday, December 18, 2009

      Dear Santa

      Dear Santa,

      I've been good this year.  Perhaps a teensy weensy bit naughty, but certainly not enough to merit coal in my stocking.  I've worked very hard to turn over a new leaf and have changed my ways.  I hope you've noticed that I've:
      • Cut down on swearing in front of the kids
      • Limited my shoe buying   (This one was painful!)
      • Gone hands-free with my cell phone when I drive
      • Gotten better at doing the laundry on a timely basis
      • Shown marked improvement sharing my chocolate
      So I'm officially submitting  My Wish List:

      I would like more time to read...

      A new playlist to help me jog with a better attitude.  I think some new music might help me find my groove.  Probably not but it's worth a try.  Every time I run all I can think about it stopping.  Oh, and my I-pod just broke so  I'm gonna need a new one of those too.


      No, not the boots, I would like the LEGS to be able to rock a pair of these...
      well, okay, maybe the boots too.


      Oh and speaking of body parts, I would like my eye sight back.  Seriously.  I'm really not happy wearing "Grandma Glasses" when I have to read.  It really sucks.


      I love to cook but a Personal Chef would be nice...

      But if that is way too much to ask for, cause I'd only need him part time, then could you please fill my freezer full of Lean Cuisines for those days when I don't feel like cooking??

       I'd also love it if you could have one of your little elves come and fix my central vac.  Somebody decided to suck a bunch of rocks up with it and it just doesn't work too well anymore. 

      By the way, I'd love to know WHO did it too.  No one around here seems to be fessing up.  Even after I declared a swearing moratorium on myself and promised not to get upset should said offender come forward.  So could you check your naughty list and let me know who the culprit is and put coal in their stocking?  Oh wait, they'll probably want to vacuum that up too.  Never mind.



      Maybe not an A+ but at least good grades for my teenage son.  We get a huge discount on insurance if his grades each semester are good.  And heaven knows, we could use some cheaper insurance premiums.  Have you checked out how much it costs to insure a teenage MALE driver these days?  It'll scare you.  So please Santa, doctor up his report card and send it on to Farmers Insurance.


      And if it's not any trouble, I'd like this island off Belize...strictly for health reasons of course.  My doctor says I need more vitamin D.  Some rich banker doesn't need his island anymore so he put it up for sale, just in time for Christmas.

      It's bargin priced. At least I thought so.

      Thanks Santa.  You know where you can find the cookies.

      Thursday, December 17, 2009

      Back Together Again!


      She's Coming Home for Christmas!

      I decided to post this long lost photo in honor of my little sister coming home for the holidays!  She hasn't been home for Christmas in...well...it's been so long I can't remember.

      Although our cozy looking pose looks genuine, I must tell you that I think this photo of my brother Scott, me, and my sister Steph had to of been totally posed.  I don't ever remember us being that friendly with each other!  When I look at it, I can almost hear my mom yelling at us to smile and scoot in closer to each other.  Ewwwww!

      Though I'm reluctant to admit,  now that my sister has grown too old to follow me around everywhere, copy everything I do, and try to steal and wear my Shaun Cassidy T-shirt when I'm not looking...well, I miss her and her crazy antics.  My sister is amazing and I can't wait for her to get here!

      Oh, and what's up with my brother's hat?  Was he planning on robbing us once my mom went inside with her dreaded camera?

      Sunday, December 13, 2009

      How NOT to Hunt for a Christmas Tree

      We consider ourselves EXTREME Christmas Tree hunters because our annual family outing is not for the faint of heart.  Of course it's extremely fun, extremely adventurous, but definitely not a stroll in the woods-which is probably why we look forward to it every year.

      Now, for those of you who are looking for more of a Norman Rockwell/Saturday Evening Post kinda experience, one of those cozy trips into the forest so that you can enjoy the serenity of nature while you hunt for a tree; I shall impart some handy pointers for you to abide by:

      Do Not Leave Before the Roads Have a Chance to Thaw Out.
      While most folks wait for the warm afternoon sunshine, we like to get a jump on the crowd so the roads are traffic-free.  There's a reason why the roads are empty, and also a reason we like it that way. But suffice it to say, there's no traffic that early in the mornings for one important reason;  Black Ice!

      Most of the ride up to the mountains was a solid sheet of ice. We were fish-tailing it all the way up.  At one point our cute cousin Madi, who was riding in her family's car, let out a blood curdling shriek thinking they were gonna slide off the road sideways.  When her family's truck came to a  halt on the side of the road, she lept from the truck insisting they turn around and head back for the safety of a Christmas tree lot.

      While contemplating what to do she saw this little tree and said, "this one will do just fine."

      Meanwhile, the boys jumped out and all headed strait for the icy road.  Who needs snow??
       

      Do Not Use Your Car as if It Were a Ski Boat
      This is unless you left so dangerously early in the morning that you're assured there will be no traffic to contend with.  Then the road is all yours and anything goes.

      If You're Breaking the Above Rule, Then Let Go if you Crash
      Connor thought he'd hang on anyway.  Unlike water skiing, plowing through the snow after you crash will impair your vision and fill your boots with snow (more on that later).

      And it will make the girls heckle you...

      Do Not Listen to Your Aunt Stacy When She Asks You to Shake the Snow Off a Tree
      Tanner ended up with a soggy back...sucker.
      My favorite thing to do is to act interested in EVERY tree and insist I must see it snow-free.  I like to see how many kids I can get to stand under a tree and shake it.  They always look so surprised when they end up with snow down their backs.  Duh. 

      Do Not Listen to Your Father If He Tries to Talk You Into Choosing an Ugly Tree
      Meanwhile, my brother likes to trick his children into picking the ugliest tree by making them feel sorry for every mangled Charlie Brown looking tree.  He tells them the ugly trees will never get the chance to make it to a cozy home and be embellished with lights if they don't take pity on it.  He's actually gotten his kids to fall for it from time to time!

      We were both clearly born with a mean streak.

      Do Not Ignore the Fact that Your Boots Have Been Full of Snow the Entire Day
      This is a big one.  It's all fun and games while you're getting towed behind dad's truck and out hunting for that elusive perfect tree.  But for goodness sake, you gotta empty your boots out every so often!  If you don't, once you finally get back in the car for the long ride home...you're gonna pay for it.  (Empty the snow outta your boots kid!)


      If you avoid breaking these major rules, you should be in for a very lovely and serene day in the woods communing with nature...

      ...but that's just not what we do.

      Sunday, December 6, 2009

      Consequences Stink

      I finally got some long-awaited photos in my hot little hand and the first thing to do was to head strait for my scanner while simultaniously logging on to our family's self-published Enquirer; The Skillman Scuttlebutt.  My excitement for this newest tale?  A parental promise to keep and a consequence to follow through on.  

      You see, around our house blogging is not just a fun pastime,  it's also a strong parental tool to keep the children on the strait and narrow.  If you're a parent, this is a band-wagon you're gonna wanna jump on.  Here are two important instructions should you decide to implement the latest surefire tool in the parental toolbox; The Blog.

      First, you must always carry a camera with you.  You never know when your children's misdeeds (or husband's for that matter)  might require photo documentation.  Keep it handy and always loaded with freshly charged batteries as if you have become a prize-winning paparazzo.

      Second, the new rule: Time Outs are a thing of the past.  With the advent of the internet, parenting is now all about public humiliation.  Seriously, it works.

      This is how it's done:  Any time a member of your family begins to cross that line, you simply:

      Give Warning #1: "Would you like me to blog this?" 

      Usually this stops them dead in their tracks.  However, on occasion sometimes a child/husband may continue down that slippery slope of sinister misdeed.  At this point you:

      Give Warning # 2:  "Seriously, I would be more than happy to get my camera and blog this." 

      This tried and true method has kept my little band of imps on the strait and narrow...most of the time.

      To my delight, I discovered this newly adopted method was actually working when an infraction occured over the summer.  A certain young man in my household got himself, quite literally, in a mire while on a scout campout. Once my son realized I had heard what he had done, he came up to me and said, "You're gonna blog this aren't you??"

      "Absolutely!" I said with a devilish grin.  I was elated that my son, much like pavlov's dog, was being conditioned to response!

      It's taken a few months but I've finally got my hands on the photos.  And as a good parent, I always keep my word.  So here are the long awaited photos in all their glory...

      Pictured here is Connor and his lifelong friend Severin.  During a campout they decided to cave in to a little peer pressure applied by a few older boys on what I now refer to as "The Potty Plot".  They decided it would be particularly funny to tediously unwind ALL the toilet paper (4 rolls of it) in the ONLY outhouse in the campground and dump it down the hole.  Mind you, this toilet paper was fastened to a bar which prevented the tube from rolling.  It actually had to be unwound a square at a time.  Much to their alarm and horror, when the two scout leaders got wind of their stinky misdeed they marched them back to the outhouse and insisted they find a stick and haul it ALL BACK UP!  Here Severin is stick "fishing" in the loo while Connor is hauling away the catch!  Note the unhappy disposition:

      Here's the most incredible scoutmaster ever, Fred Clark, my hero!  Bold and courageous amid the stench, he saw the value of holding these boys accountable.

      Once the deed had been undone the group is relieved enough to smile for a photo. Probably because Connor knew, deep down, that it would end up on the blog.


      It was the prank that stank!  I'm sure they'll think twice before pulling another one, especially now that I've released their deeds to the internet!

      A special thanks to Brett & Fred for teaching the boys a lesson they may never forget!  Consequences stink don't they?

      Wednesday, November 18, 2009

      A Political Coup and a Dang Lucky Cat

      A few years back my family staged a political coup. I played the part of the usurped leader, while the others in the house were the unruly radicals who had become increasingly displeased with a certain parental decree. A  meeting was held by the dissatisfied members of the household and in turn they decided not only to gain the confidence, but more importantly, the voting power of the weakest member our home's bureaucratic elite---their father. They held a secret meeting with him where they confessed their grievances, gained his loyalties, and devised a plan.

      The whole coup took place before I even had a chance to prepare for combat.  Mark surprised ambushed  me one afternoon by coming home early and announcing it would be fun to go and pick up all the kids from school. Once all the children little militants were in the car and tucked safely in their seat belts and beyond my reach, the following conversation ensued:

      Mark: Hey Honey, the kids and I took a vote and there is nothing you can do with what is about to happen. It's beyond your power to veto.

      Me: Huh?    
      (isn't that just like an outgoing dictator? Always the last to know his her people are dissatisfied with current regime policies!)

      Mark:  Seriously, you're not gonna like it and I'm just reminding you now that your vote is only worth two and the kids and I together make a total of six votes.  (In a household with four kids, each of the parent's votes are always worth two, it's a built in safety net, though sadly, only when both parents vote ALIKE.)

      Me: Huh?

      Kids snickering in the back.

      Mark:  The kids and I decided it's about time we get a pet.  We know how you feel about having to take care of pets so we decided we'd start with something low maintenance...

      Me:  Huh?

      Kids beaming with wide smiles.

      Mark: We decided on a cat and we're headed to the Humane Society right now.  The kid's promise to help take care of it and...
      (blah blah blah blah blah-I sort of stopped listening at this point-just like a REAL dictator would have done, only I forgot about adding a shout such as, "down with the people!", which I think would have been perfectly appropriate.)

      Things took a drastic turn for the worse when we arrived.  The kids decided to throw me a bone, so to speak, and tried to ease my pain by giving me the "privilege" of choosing our new cat.  I think they were in cahoots with the lady who worked there because when I chose two different cats that I thought I could tolerate and told my little band of marauders that they could have the final say and pick between the two, the lady then exclaimed with a bit of suspicious glee that both cats had been brought in from the very same owner.  It was destiny she said.  So, instead of riding home with ONE yowling box of cat, I rode home with TWO!

      And that was it.  A successful coup resulting in one overthrown mother, two new cats, four happy children, and a disloyal husband who slept on the couch for a few days!  (I still had a little power left!  Tee hee! ) 

      It took me a year to not despise the cats.  I almost bonded with the one cat that would come hang out with me on summer mornings in my garden while I weeded.  But the other cat is a scratcher!  Totally mean.  You pet it and it'll give off a decoy purr, and then suddenly it will gouge a limb right off!  Sadly, the one I came really close to liking, it met with a tragic accident on the road.  Now we're left with "Edward Scissorhands" who claws at everybody. Just my luck.  The kids all love him despite all the scars he's branded them with.  I have learned to tolerate him and to buy lots of Neosporin and band-aids for the kids.

      They say dogs have masters and cats have staff.  Totally true in this case.

      Today, during a blustery winter afternoon,  I was watching ol' "Scissorhands" (with much contempt) lounging about INSIDE the house, completely oblivious to the wicked weather outside and flamboyantly flaunting  the ease at which he yields ALL the power inside our house.  If it wasn't for the revolt, he'd of never made it out of the pound, yet he consistently ignores all forms of house rules and pet etiquette!  Where's the gratitude?   The following violations all happened just today...

      Here he is making himself at home on the coffee table right in the middle of a serious Lego construction project, Rude!:

      Here he is making it hard for people in the house to read (with or without glasses).  This cat's specialty is kid's homework, he loves to sprawl on homework when they're busy writing on it.  And if you should try to reclaim your papers, he'll claw you!  Just look at those beady little eyes daring you to touch the magazine:

      And here, the darn cat is sprawled out in a rather indiscreet position, and mind you,  taking up as much room on the couch as possible, very selfish, lazy, and uncouth indeed:

      I may have lost the "Cat Coup" but I am taking steps to safeguard myself from further household rebellions.  I just bought a copy of Sun Tzu's  "The Art of War"!  

      In the meantime, this is one dang lucky cat. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
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