Sounds from the basement.

About 2 weeks ago I heard this banging around in the basement.  Freaked me out a little bit, since I didn’t expect anyone or anything to be down there.  After some sleuthing I found one of my cats down there, which really baffled me since I had no idea how he could have gotten down there.

It didn’t even occur to me there was a hole in the wall behind the dryer, where the vent used to go.

So I rescued him and figured he’d know better and that would be the end of it.  Yeah, I’ve had cats all my life, I should have known better.

Today I heard noises in the basement again.  It freaked me out once more, but I quickly realized Alan must have gotten down there again.  I rescued him again, but this time I fixed it so he can’t (?) get down there again.

Nice, eh?

Nerd Pet Wars 2013

Found this on Facebook.

And this was in one of the comments.

Ironic.

The Gods of the Vegetative State.

That’s what cats are.  They can go from running around the house chasing each other to motionless on the couch in nanoseconds.

written inc.’s theme for this week is “Vegetative”, and here’s my interpretation.

Vegetative in the dish rack.

Vegetative together on the couch.

Vegetative on their chair. – “theirs” because it takes 20 minutes to vacuum all their hair off, so I just leave it for them.

Vegetative alone on the couch.

Vegetative on my backpack, on the dining room table.

Vegetative in a box they broke to get to the
flannel rags Lisa gave me.

Vegetative on my bed.

Vegetative in another box.

Vegetative in a box that’s just a little too small.

“Hey, leave me alone, I was vegetative.”

Stupid, stupid bird.

We haven’t seen temperatures above freezing for almost two weeks now. For the most part, our afternoon highs have been around 20°F (-10°C).  The air is gross, the ground is frozen and the sun is hidden.  Every self-respecting, sane bird flew south a long time ago.

And yet my cats were able to find the one, psychologically unstable, bird left in my neighborhood.  And capture it. and spread it’s feathers all over my livingroom for me to clean up.

Thanks guys.

---

And kudos for these guys for an awesome snowplowing job.  Let’s have someone who is handicapped park their 4-wheel drive on a snowbank and climb out onto the ice, rather than blocking a regular parking spot.

Ode to my cat.

.... It was brought to my attention, thanks to a thread on Writer's blog, that I seem to rarely mention my cat here. Don't expect that to change. I love her and all, but, as Writer so aptly put it, I don't dote on her. So, here's my cat post:

.... My cat's name is Gata, which is spanish for female cat. A wise person once said "why name something that doesn't come when you call its name?" At one time I had a Russian Blue that I named Koshka, which is Russian for cat. Anyway, Gata is about 13 years old, yet so small that everyone mistakes her for a kitten. I got her because I prefer a cat in the house to mice in the house, and when my previous cat decided she preferred the field I used to live next to more than me and ran away, I developed a bad case of mouses in the houses. My roommate at the time was dating a woman whose parents lived on a farm in Fairview, Utah, and allowed their cats to roam, and breed, indiscriminately. They also lived right on Highway 31, so it was not uncommon for a cat to just stop showing up at home. So, my roommate just grabbed one of their kittens at random when he was up there and brought her here. I, of course, got her fixed so that I wouldn't have indiscriminant kittens roaming around. The rest is history. 

.... And here's the requisite pictures:

Gata, relaxing on my clothes

Gata, relaxing on a chair

She has this habit of tucking her head under her when she sleeps

and she loves to bring me little presents

this is one of the few pictures where she has a collar on.  it lasted about 2 months before she figured how to get it off and lost

she really likes sleeping on my clothes

this was before I remodeled the bathroom, I'd broken the top to the toilet and she thought it was her watering hole

she really, really likes sleeping on my clothes

awww, how cute.

Ok, there we go, my cat post. 

A little visitor

Cats are fun.  Not only do they keep the mice out of the house, but every now and again they bring you a little present.  One that's alive.  That's what Gata brought me this morning, right over to the computer and then let him (or her, I didn't check) go.  I tried to get it to go out the door, but that's one of the problems with nine and a half foot ceilings, the door tops are at leat a foot below the birds flying altitude.  I tried for a half hour, even turned on the ceiling fan so it would have less places to land.  That didn't work, I finally turned it off because the bird just kept flying around and around and I thought it was going to die of exhaustion.  So I just propped the front door open and went about my business.  A couple hours  later when I checked, it was nowhere to be found.  Either it found it's way outside or hid behind the cabinets and is still there.  I'll know in a week or so if I start to smell something rank in here.  Ah well, c'est la vie.

Just some pictures......

Backpack 'O Cat

These pictures were all taken at the Halloween/Homecoming dance at my school. They were not photoshopped, I was just messing around with the manual shutter speed on my camera.

"Nightmare on...." - How is today different from the other 179 days?, I asked the teacher in charge of the SBOs. He didn't have an answer.