A Day in the Life of a Mean Widdle Kid

I know there are some of you out there who remember Red Skelton's Mean Widdle Kid. "If I dood it, I get in trouble....I dood it!"

This has become Dixie's philosophy of life.

Dixie's day begins at 5am - if she has been sequestered in the bathroom for fighting with Scout at midnight, she begins meowing to remind Mom that she was unjustly accused and incarcerated. If she has spent the night freely roaming the house, she pounces on Mom's nose to let her know that the alarm will be going off in a few minutes.

5:15 am, 5:30 am, 5:45 am and 6:00 am - she picks herself up from where Mom has flung her off the bed and marches out of the room in a huff, muttering under her breath.

6:05 am - she walks Mom to the pantry to show her where the cat food is kept. This is not just a walk, but her opportunity to help Mom wake up by creating an obstacle course, weaving into and out of Mom's path as as the aged parent blearily stumbles to the kitchen.

6:30 am - she launches her first attack of the morning on Boo or Scout, whichever one happens to be visiting the litter box. Nothing like freaking out a housemate by springing on them while their attention is otherwise occupied. She has assisted in greatly improving Boo's standing broad jump since she arrived.

6:35 am - she uses the litter box herself and complains about the way that Boo or Scout flung litter all over the room when they departed in haste.

7:00 am - she helps Mom with the ironing of the day's outfit by grabbing the iron cord and biting Mom's toes.

7:01 am - she nimbly dodges Mom's swat at her little hiney.

7:05 am thru approximately 10:30 am - she hounds Scout, chasing and biting and running upstairs and downstairs

10:30 am - nap time, which may last 5 minutes or may last 5 hours. Naps are interspersed with trips to the litter box and assaults on Boo and Scout. Unless Mom is working at home, in which case, she repeatedly lands on the desk and is repeatedly ejected, lands on the work table and watches tv for awhile, and then starts again with landing on the desk and flying through the air away from the desk - until

approx 5:00 pm - Mom gets home from work and it's time to see how many times she can get the poor woman to say "Stop it!" before

7:00 pm - supper time, when it is time to remind Mom repeatedly that it is supper time in a loud and strident voice until Mom gives up and opens a new package of expensive cat food, after being shown again where we keep it, with the weaving in and out of her path, and then sniffing the food and declaring that she's not hungry just yet and will eat later.

8:00 pm until about 10:00 pm - nap time until Mom begins to shut down the house and prepare for bed and trying to time it just right so that at

10:30 pm - when Mom finally gets into bed and settles down with her crossword for the evening, Dixie begins to prowl around the room, getting into the trash, chewing on important papers, jumping up on the bed so that Mojo will chase her off, and finally settling down like she intends to sleep for awhile.

11:00 pm - when Mom turns off the light, gets up and picks a fight with Scout, the object being to see how long it will take Mom to give up and get out of bed and catch one of them.

11:15 pm - settles down in the bathroom to sleep.

It's not easy being a Mean Widdle Kid.

LSW

Pluses and Minuses

To anyone who has wondered at my absence, I'm okay. Mostly.

I'm enjoying the shift in temperature from HOT OVEN to WARMING OVEN, and the accompanying rain we've recently received. That's on the plus side of the slate. With the slight cooling effect, I've begun sleeping again. That's really a major mark on the plus side.

Still on the plus side, a couple of weeks ago I located the antique oak bedstead that I've searched for over the last year or so. I was on one of my noon-time rambles through the Antique Mall in Round Rock and there it sat, giving me a come-hither look and then when I got close to it seducing me with its beveled panels and curved oak side rails. Little brother was on vacation in the hinterlands of Big Bend at the time, so I cajoled a willing co-worker into transporting the bedstead to my office to await such time as little brother and his pickup would be available to haul it home for me.

It is still sitting in my office at work, thanks to the spotty rains that are continuing. I'm not complaining. If that's what it takes to get some rain in the area, I can live with a piece of antique furniture propped against the wall in my office for awhile. I get looks from the folks that pass by wondering why I have a bed in my office, but I live to confuse others and that makes it another mark on the plus side. (However, I am hoping for a break in the clouds at some point. I would really like to see this little beauty take its place with my other oak antique bedroom pieces.)

Another positive is the latest audiobook I've been listening to for several days now. In a weak moment, I purchased some classics to listen to "some day" and I decided it was time to get my money's worth from at least one of them. So I started La Morte d'Arthur and, while entertaining, decided it just took too much attention that I didn't have at the moment, so I shifted to Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I really did not have great expectations that I would enjoy the book; I expected dry, stilted prose and a boring story. I surprisingly was caught up in Pip's story from the first and have just begun the 11th out of 14 discs and thoroughly enjoying the experience. I may just have to try Oliver Twist and David Copperfield.

Not everything has been hunky dory, however. First there are the terrible cat wars that are in full swing at home. Dixie, Boo and Scout have come to an understanding amongst themselves and I believe it is to drive Mom completely insane. Midnight is the witching hour and my little witch's familiars can convince you the house is coming down around your ears as they chase each other upstairs and downstairs, literally bouncing off walls and spitting and hissing in a most unpleasant manner until Mom gets up and snags Dixie and pitches her into the bathroom to spend the remainder of the night. The cats and dogs are learning a lot of new words as Mom does some pretty eloquent hissing of her own when she dives for a cat and falls over the bench at the end of the bed.

Then there is the return of the dreaded eye issue. I suffer from the recurring malady of chalazions and they are back. Simply put, the condition is the same as styes, but internal rather than external. It leads to puffy lumps in the eyelids that hurt, put pressure on your eyes that messes with your vision, and generally refuse to go away peacefully. Over the course of the last week, they have developed in both eyes and my mood has soured in direct proportion to their progress. I am dealing with antibiotics, eyedrops that apparently contain unicorn tears they are so expensive, and will see the eye surgeon later in the week to evalute the necessity of her intervention. Big black marks on the negative side, but then again it could be so much worse that I'm trying to be stoic.

So that's the report from the home front. I have hopes that the more pleasant weather will lead to more frequent bouts of writing. I have hopes that a trip to the vet for a certain little cat will sweeten her disposition (only 4 weeks to go). I have hopes that the rain will break long enough to get the bed out of my office and home where it belongs. I have hopes that Pip's story will have a happy ending, but I'm bracing myself on that one. I have hopes that the antibiotics are zipping through my bloodstream and battling the chalazion intruders. I have hope. And lots of amaretto, if that fails.

LSW

Conspiracy Theory

I'm beginning to think the cats are out to gaslight me. Scout and Dixie spend a lot of time battling throughout the house - Dixie chasing Scout and Scout hissing and yowling loud enough to wake the dead. On the occasions when they don't respond to my own yowling of "Stop that, I've had enough of that, quit it, NOW!" Dixie ends up shut in the utility room or bathroom for awhile to give Scout a chance to locate a good hiding place.

But then a few days ago I noticed that there were times when they would sit quietly in the same proximity. I even caught them lying placidly next to the water station, nose to nose, in some kind of silent communication. As soon as they saw me watching, they began slapping and hissing.

Scout & Dixie discussing how to drive Mom crazy

"What?"

So I am trying to be sneaky, too, and spy on my little heathen cats to see if they are really getting along and just acting up when I'm around. I suspect they are bored and have started a game to see just how fast they can get me out of my chair and chasing after them.

I wasn't born yesterday. I've been playing cat games for 50 plus years. They've only been at it for 4 years (Boo and Scout) and 4 months (Dixie). We'll just see who wins.

LSW

Drought

I live in a pine forest and I see from my own back deck the effects of the drought. Two of the pines on my second lot have died. One was ill and on its last legs for most of the summer, so it wasn't unexpected. The other is one of the older pines and has turned brown in the course of the last couple of weeks. I have many, many pines on my two lots, but it hurts to lose any of them.

Another of my pines died earlier this year and is beginning to fall over, fortunately away from the house, but it will be a mess to cut up and dispose of. I've also lost one of the nasty red-tipped photinas this summer. That doesn't disturb me, except for the unpleasant reality that once they die their trunk and roots turn into something akin to concrete and are the devil to get rid of.

There were two brief showers this week and have revived the weeds in the front yard enough that I will have to get myself out tomorrow afternoon and fire up the riding mower. I hope it starts. The yard has been completely barren of green for most of the summer and there has been no need to use the mower.

I hope more rain is on the way. My pines need it desperately.

LSW

Dixie Explores

As I mentioned before, Dixie hasn't quite figured out the jumping up on things that don't give her a good claw hold to assist her way. She's beginning to get the idea, but she's not there yet. Today she managed to clamber up, in a roundabout way, to the top of the work table in my office. She was very taken with the view out the window, which at this particular point in time, included a flock of crows strolling about the front yard.

Then she discovered the little television that sits on that table. She sat, transfixed, for a long time, watching the images move. I gave her the usual Mother's warning about sitting too close and ruining your eyesight, but she told me to mind my own business.

She ran the gamut today, from exploring the new vista of the work table to being so obnoxious to Scout that she ended up in time-out twice. When the Dixie decides to be obnoxious, she doesn't mess around about it. She finally wore herself out and spent a good portion of the afternoon in a deep, restorative nap. After which, she started all over again.

I think I may be too old to be raising another baby.

UPDATE Thursday morning - Miss Dixie and Scout decided to have an all-out sumo-wrestling battle at midnight. Yesterday being the once monthly occasion when I get a massage and actually sleep well, their antics were not amusing. I tried hollering at them a couple of times, but ultimately had to get up and sequester Miss Dixie in the bathroom by herself all night. You would think the little scamp would get the message that rotten behavior equals isolation. I hope it eventually sinks in.

LSW

Don't Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth

I got this weird letter the other day from Dell Computers. They claimed to owe me $50 and if I did not fax back instructions for how I wanted to claim the money, it would be turned over to the State unclaimed funds. It has been a pretty good while since I've bought anything from Dell, so I couldn't imagine why they would owe me any money, but I'm no fool and I faxed them instructions to cut me a check, dudes.

There was precious little information to work with, but I finally figured out that the money was connected to the purchase of their MP3 player, the DJ Ditty, a couple of years ago. I had long since stopped using the thing and had almost forgotten I even owned one. It didn't cost all that much, so I still have no idea why I should be getting money back on it. But I'm willing to trust they know what they are talking about.

Today the check arrived and I'm going to hustle down to the bank and put it in my account tomorrow before they change their minds.

Now, what to do with my little windfall?

LSW

Temporary Peace on the Homefront

This morning's trip to the vet was an expensive one, but it had the unexpected benefit of creating an atmosphere of peace in the house for the day.

Mojo and Coco had their annual exams and two shots each. Both were pronounced in good health and had not gained too much weight, considering we've had to give up our daily walks until this heat wave breaks. They had to have blood drawn for the bi-annual heartworm test and then, the ultimate insult, got their toenails clipped.

Dixie was ooh-ed and aah-ed over and told repeatedly how beautiful she was. I had taken along her first picture to remind the doctor of how far she had come. The first time she had been there, she weighed in at 1-1/2 pounds. Two months later she weighs 4-1/2 pounds, a 300% increase. The doctor studied her much improved physique and guessed that she may have some Persian in her, based on her domed head and long hair. We agreed that she was not your ordinary stray kitten and that she has the potential to be a real beauty. She got her next round of shots, did her best to shred the chair in the exam room while the dogs got their exams, and then we were done.

The ride home was considerably quieter than the ride to Elgin had been. Both dogs had fretted themselves into exhaustion and even Dixie settled down. When we got home, all three of them crawled into corners and slept hard all afternoon. Dixie even slept through her normal supper time. Scout said it was the best afternoon she's had in two months.

I always cringe a little when I have to settle the bill for one of these group vet visits, but I considered today that I really do come out ahead. If I had 5 children, I would be buying new school clothes and supplies and paying for music lessons and wearing myself out going to soccer games. I don't have to worry about putting them through college or sitting up at night waiting for them to get in.

Yes, I think I've got the better deal.

LSW

Trials by Cat

For a tiny fluff ball, Miss Dixie has made a huge impact on our quiet household. And I don't mean just the yelling of "stop that" that has become my daily, almost hourly, anthem. She has more energy per square inch than a nuclear reactor. Last night, as I sat at my desk before the computer, she decided she wanted to be on my shoulder. She jumped, reaching for something solid to get her claws in for traction, and that something happened to be my back. I screeched and flung her off of me and then we had a loud conversation, after which she decided she might just spend the rest of the evening under the bed.

This morning she was attempting to be a sweeter cat, camouflaging herself as just another of the pillow cats.

I am not the only target of Dixie's mayhem. Poor Scout is continually hunting for a spot that will put her out of aggravation's way. Dixie hasn't quite figured out that she can jump up on things without there being something soft she can anchor her claws into, so Scout spends her day sitting on the tops of desks or dressers or other pieces of furniture above Dixie's present reach. (I haven't got the heart to tell Scout it's only a matter of time before Dixie figures out there are springs in her feet. I hate to see a grown cat cry.)

I was chagrined to discover that one of Scout's places of safety is endangering some of my miniatures displays. I glanced over at the piano the other night and there was a cat where there shouldn't be a cat. She was curled up fast asleep on a gardening vignette. I've since made a stab at convincing her that it is not a good napping place, but so far she isn't paying the slightest bit of attention.

All I can hope is that she gives up this location before Dixie figures out she's there. I have this horrible premonition that I will be awakened by a horrific crash in the middle of the night and all my hard work will be scattered about the floor and the piano will acquire even more scars. (You may recall that the Taz cat bounced a lamp off the piano, gouging a dozen or so divots in the walnut finish.)

We have an appointment with the vet on Friday morning for a follow up exam for Dixie. I am anticipating that the doctor will be impressed with how much she has bounced back from the scraggly little waif I brought in two months ago. I, on the other hand, may be advised to get a long rest in the country.

I realized this morning that Boo and Scout went through this stage and I lived through it. However, they had each other to beat up on and that spared the rest of us a lot of scars and blood-letting. They've turned into pretty good cats. And it only took 3 years.

Lord, have mercy. Two and a half more years before I can expect Dixie to be a little lady cat.

{sob}

LSW

Visiting the Ex-Neighbors

I went downtown yesterday afternoon to get my hair done, decided to go back home by way of the courthouse to get my license tag renewal, and that put me within 2 blocks of where I used to live. I decided to drive down the old street and see what had changed. When I reached the block where we once lived, I spotted an old neighbor out in her yard and decided to seize the opportunity to stop and ask her a question that I've been meaning to ask the next time I saw her.

Vickie is one of those people with a major green thumb and works in her yard every day. She has layered in vines and blooming plants and added rustic iron fencing and little statues tucked in among the greenery. She has the knack, as did my grandmother, of being able to snap off a branch of something, stick it in dirt and have it immediately take root. I remembered that many years ago she got a start of the mock orange bush that lived in the center of my mother's front yard and I wanted to know if she would give me a start. The mock orange bush was always one of the first harbingers of spring, bursting forth with white blossoms along about my birthday every year.

We had a great time visiting and she gave me a tour of her yard. Not only did she have many descendant bushes of the original mock orange she acquired from us, she has altheas of every color, a big clump of lilies like the ones I had admired in the yard of our other neighbor Ben and many other tempting plants that she has promised to give me starts from when the weather gets cooler and transplants will have a better chance to take hold.

We went inside to get soft drinks and she showed me the renovations she has done since I was there last. Her house is one of the old early 20th century houses with high ceilings and decorative woodwork, similar to the style of my mother's old house. They have been painting and redoing wood floors and installing antique lighting fixtures and she gave me a real case of remodeling envy to see what can be accomplished when you have an eye for salvaging unique pieces from antique stores and Habitat for Humanity.

While we chatted and she showed me pictures of her new grandson and brought me up to date with what her two kids were doing these days, we heard a most unlikely sound...thunder. A few minutes later, we heard an even more unlikely sound...rain. It rained for a good 20-30 minutes, good heavy, soaking rain, with loud claps of thunder. She and her husband and I stood on the front porch and watched it for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of something we've not seen for weeks. You could just hear all those plants in her yard giggling with the sheer joy of the good soaking they were getting.

I waited out the heavy downpour, extending my visit longer than I had intended, and thoroughly enjoying the rare opportunity to pass the time with old friends. Her husband said if I'm going to bring rain with me, I need to visit more often.

I left with the promise that we would get together after the first norther this fall and she will load me up with cuttings to try transplanting to my yard. In return she wants a load of pine needles, if I can spare them. (I just looked at her with my jaw hanging - spare them? I've got pine needles enough for the whole county.) I hope by spring I might have the pleasure of seeing mock orange in my front yard again.

Now for the Dixie update--she has a new devilish trick. She gets on the back of the couch, oozes down over my shoulder, cuddles up next to my face and purrs like mad. Sooo sweet, you say. Gently, she puts her little nose up to my cheek - and hauls off and bites me. She's one little rascal.

LSW

Mystery Solved

When I went out to water the plants night before last, I discovered one pot where there was no longer a plant - just dirt. The plant in the pot next to it was in pretty bad shape. It appeared that something had been either chewing on it or just tearing it up for the fun of it. I moved the surviving plant to the other side of the deck and decided that some bird had been looking for nesting material.

Today, when I got back from running errands, I glanced out on the deck and discovered the rest of the story.

I guess he likes the cool dirt in that pot, which is just the size for a squirrel bed. He saw me studying him through the window and I think I saw a tiny squirrel tongue protrude for a second.

I get no respect.

LSW

Blushing in the Driveway

You remember the song by Barbara Mandrell, I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool? There's a line in there about parking at the drive-in movie and turning down the radio because you didn't want folks to know you were listening to George Jones. Mother used to tell me that back when Hank Williams was popular and no one had air-conditioning in their cars, you would indeed turn down the radio when you came to a stop where others might hear you listening to hillbilly music. It was considered somewhat uncouth to listen to that tacky stuff.

I found myself thinking about that this week when I pulled up to the mailbox in front of my house and lowered the window to get the mail. I was listening to an audiobook, the most recent offering of David Sedaris. I am really enjoying the book, but I do not recommend it without a note of warning. His humor and writing gets a little rough every so often and it is liberally sprinkled with language you would not want your mother to know you are familiar with. Funny, yes, but if you have tender ears, don't go there.

I wasn't thinking when I pulled up to the mailbox and lowered the window. After all, it's not like the book is a constant stream of profanity. It's just that a sentence will pop out every now and then that turns the air inside the car blue. And rather than finding it offensive, it usually makes me laugh out loud. The guy is good at catching you off guard and presenting a hilarious comment within a network of words not used in polite company.

Just as I reached out to get the mail, he began to describe a conversation with a New York cab driver and out came a string of words, most of them beginning with the letter "f". OMG, I thought, looking in the rear view mirror and out the side windows to see if any of my neighbors were outdoors and within earshot. I did not see anyone, thank goodness.

So now, for the duration of the audiobook, I am being a little more cautious. I'm switching to NPR as I approach the mailbox. My enjoyment of David Sedaris' writing will be my own guilty pleasure.

That and satellite radio's Bluegrass Junction. It wouldn't bother me all that much for the neighbors to know I'm a bluegrass junkie, but there's still a portion of the universe that doesn't understand that hillbilly and bluegrass music is not tacky.

LSW

Do Not Feed the Wild Animals

There's a reason why they say don't feed the wild animals. This is an example of what happens when you do. They move in and take over.

"Are YOU talking to ME?"

Pray for me.

LSW

Red, White and Blue

Not that I ever tan worth a darn, but with the excess heat this year, I refuse to spend much time outside and as a result I am more pasty white than usual.

As I mentioned before, the shoes I wore on Saturday (which happened to be the third day in a row I had worn them) produced some painful toes after walking on uneven ground and in sand out on my country ramble. Sunday morning I had what amounted to a subdural hematoma at the base of my big toe. It was bluish purple and hurt. It has improved to the point of looking like a normal bruise, but still a blue where there shouldn't be any.

Finally, never let it be said that declawing your cats' front feet will completely protect you from claw damage. Scout jumped in my lap while I sat at my desk, got off balance and over-corrected and her back claws skidded across my bare legs just below the hem of my shorts. I have a lovely criss-cross of bright red scratches on my thigh.

I certainly look patriotic at this point, but I would really rather just wear my flag shirt.

LSW

Party Crashing

I don't often get to visit with my 4th cousin and fellow Mobley genealogist Maxine, so when I got wind she was headed to this part of the country to attend a birthday party for her sister, I invited myself to attend. The party was in Lexington, about a half-hour's drive east, at the home of her niece.

On the one hand, I was really taken with their home, with its back yard full of decks under shade trees, a quaint outbuilding across the driveway where they keep their hunting gear and horse tack and crafting area, and the interior of their house that is full of my kind of antiques. (While I appreciate the ornate and elegant antiques, my kind of antiques leans more to the practical pieces that graced our grandparents' homes and I also have a real fondness for antique store fixtures.) The attraction somewhat paled when the hostess began telling me of their ongoing snake issues, but they still have a great place for comfortable country living. So long as you have a gun at hand when the next rattler comes along.

I was pleasantly surprised that Maxine's sister remembered me and that another genealogist quasi-cousin that I know was in attendance. I was able to visit with each of them, eat some mighty fine BBQ and indulge in a great slice of birthday cake - all the while sitting on a sprawling deck in a rare and pleasant July breeze.

One of the attendees was this colorful fellow, who punctuated the afternoon with squawky comments. One of his more piercing shrieks was aimed directly at me as I snapped his picture. Made me jump about a foot.

I rarely attend parties and I certainly don't make it a habit to crash them, but this time it was worth it to do both. Almost everybody there was related to me, some near and some distant, all were pleasant to visit with and a day in the country is always welcome. Today I'm making it up to the dogs and cats who very much resented losing a day of their weekend with Mom, and I'm resting my feet which were not happy with my choice of footwear yesterday. (I shucked my shoes last night to find that my toes had swelled to an alarming state. All better this morning, but there were a few hours last night when I was stepping carefully.)

Sometimes you need to shake up your routine. I surely enjoyed shaking mine.

LSW

Black Clouds Circling

I can't say I didn't expect it. When I got my daily low-carb ice cream bar yesterday afternoon, I noticed it wasn't quite as firm as usual. And there was this funny humming sound ever so often from the direction of the kitchen.

This morning when I checked, the freezer wasn't freezing and the refrigerator wasn't fridging. Thankfully the meat was still frozen and it was still pretty cool in the refrigerator, so I proceeded to begin the transfer of the stuff I definitely needed to keep to the small refrigerator in the garage. And, thankfully, I've not been keeping quite so much stuff on hand lately. Everything I absolutely needed to salvage found a home in the smaller space available. Looking on the bright side, if there is one, I finally pitched all those impulse buys that didn't work out and you feel guilty just tossing out right.

Ironically, today is the day the dishwasher repairman from Sears is supposed to come. In the old days, you could probably persuade a repairmen to go ahead and deal with both ailing appliances as long as he was here, but I know better. God forbid that a dishwasher repairmen touch a refrigerator in this day and age. So, I placed a second request for repair service and it will be a week before the refrigerator repairmen shows up.

While I can limp along just fine with the small refrigerator for a week, it has no ice maker and there is now no room at all for an ice tray in the freezer compartment, even if I still owned ice trays. I predict I will be hauling in the picnic ice chest and buying a bag of ice on my way home every day for the next week.

In other news, Dixie has decided to torment Boo and Scout and they are beginning to fight back. The house is a cacophany of snarls, hisses, yowls and sounds of things crashing as they bound from corner to corner. They do get along for the most part, but Dixie in mean mode can try the patient of a saint and the heathen cats ain't no saints.

The stomach bug that has had hold of me for the last couple of days seems to be on the wane, but not completely gone.

It's still hot.

The latest upgrade of Farm Town has caused major glitches in some areas that have cast a pall on the fun there.

You would think with all these dark clouds hovering above me, it would rain a little.

LSW

The Dixie Report

I am having so much fun with Miss Dixie. Every day she comes up with something new to add to her bag of tricks.

Dixie has a whole floor full of cat toys - rattly balls, crackly cat tunnel, catnip mouse, chirpy bird, and the list goes on - and she plays with all of them throughout her day. But, the best toys are the found toys. She has discovered the wastebasket under my desk. I will hear her rattling around under there and she will be deep into the basket, looking for kitty treasures. This morning she had a great time killing an envelope she found lurking in its depths.

Her newest trick is reminiscent of Tinker, a cat of some renown in our family's past. She goes into the kitchen or the utility room and yowls for someone to come find her. Tinker would pull this same stunt while hiding in the bathtub. When the unwary victim comes into range, out springs Miss Dixie to wrap around your ankle like the Tasmanian Devil of the old cartoons.

While there is no doubt she knows her name, she is beginning to exercise her cat prerogative to ignore your call if it suits her. But I have her number. All I have to do is open the refrigerator door and she will come running from the farthest reaches of the house to help you decide what you should prepare for the upcoming meal.

"There's some chicken on that shelf up there."

She has moved into her own spot on the bed at night, right between the dogs, and is pretty much adjusted to our sleeping routine, although she did wake me up Saturday morning by pouncing on my nose. But when she curls up next to me with that wild, happy purr, I can overlook a little nose pouncing.

I'm really not sure how we got along before she joined us.

LSW

Joining the Crowd

A few weeks back I was in conversation with the programmers at work, who are considerably younger than this old programmer. (They are generally patient with my archaic knowledge of such things as COBOL, but sometimes you can see in their eyes that they are wondering if I was on speaking terms with any of the dinosaurs.) The conversation turned to Facebook and Twitter. Did I use them?

Well, I said, I had set up a Facebook account but I just couldn't yet see where it might fit into my world. I primarily wanted a presence there so that old high school and college friends might be able to connect, keeping in mind that my old high school and college friends are doddering and elderly themselves. I really didn't expect to spend much time there.

Then a couple of my genealogy contacts started posting messages and picking back and forth with each other. I couldn't keep out of that. Then a former co-worker who moved to New York City made contact and it was fun to have a way to fire off a brief "hey, how are you" and find out she was doing ok when there is no longer much we have in common to chat about. She travels a lot and takes great pictures, so I am also able to enjoy her adventures in a vicarious way, one brief moment captured at a time.

Then some current co-workers came on board. We don't always have time to chat at the office and it has provided little glimpses into what we do when we don't have our noses to the grindstone.

And now we have a small community of first cousins who are tweaking each other's noses. I have often wished we first cousins were in better contact and I am sensing this might be a way for us to keep in touch and get to know each other as adults, one zinger at a time. So far there are six of us active and I hope our number grows. I've often envied the sibling relationships that exist in the group of first cousins of which my father was a member. While I don't expect Facebook to create that kind of environment for us, at least it gives us a venue to communicate in brief conversational bursts and learn something about each other.

In a few weeks I've gone from seeing little use for the application to looking forward to checking in a half dozen times a day to see what's going on. If nobody is active, there is always an interesting quiz to take. That in itself can get addictive.

And we won't even discuss the Farm Town game. It's not an addiction, it's an obsession. My fondness for games, and especially sim-type games, has cause me to adopt Farm Town with a vengeance. I continue to have a great time building my little farm, planting my watermelons, peas, cotton and such and then going into the Farm Town community to hire folks to come harvest when the crops come in. Yes, it is a complete waste of time. I am enjoying it immensely.

So, I give. I'm an active participant in Facebook.

Now Twitter on the other hand? I don't think so. I just don't see the point of logging my entire day, line by line. Who cares that I'm standing in line at Starbucks? I'm afraid Twitter will have to do without me.

After all, there's no Farm Town there.

LSW

Inert

When you are so lazy you can't even bother yourself to sit up while you eat, then you are too lazy.

I am being lazy in some respects and not in others. I'm foregoing housework for the moment because my tension headache has returned. It is basically the result of too much time in front of the computer, but it's a little hard to avoid the computer when your work depends on it and your primary hobby depends on it. I'm taking ibuprofen, I've had a chiropractic adjustment and massage, and now I'm trying to rest and let all that take effect. I bought and assembled a new office chair for my home office earlier this week, because I greatly suspect the real culprit is the chair I was using. Now I wait to see how long it will take for it to turn loose. Last time it was well over a week before I got relief.

To distract myself from the desk and the computer, I set about yesterday to reorganize my books. I plan to have more built in bookshelves added to my study, but that may not happen until late this year or early next year. I decided I would box up the books I don't need readily available and store them until I have enough room to have them all out on display. That led to my getting back to the task of labeling the spines of volumes that are bound with plastic combs. It's looking pretty good over there and I may actually be able to find what I'm looking for now.

Dixie continues to blossom and is our main source of quality entertainment these days, tv being the pits of late. She's a grey blur flashing through the house except when the refrigerator or pantry doors open. Then she's on the spot, ready to help me prepare kitten food. I certainly hope she levels off one of these days before she eats me out of house and home.

That's the news, such as it is. Still struggling to get my mental focus. Maybe when the heat breaks, my writer's block will break, too.

LSW

As Promised

I tied some jingly and dangly things to the strings on the cat tunnel and Dixie spent last evening playing them into shreds.

(Click on the picture to enlarge and get the full effect.)

LSW

Same old, same old

Hmm. I was going to share a cute Dixie pic tonight in lieu of thoughtful prose. Unfortunately the load photo option is not functioning tonight. Oh, well.

Nothing much going on here.

It's still hot.

I'm still weighed down with work.

I'm still tending to kitty mangled ankles.

I'm still overlooking that because she's cute as all get out.

I'll eventually get over this case of writer's block.

See you soon.

LSW