Tag Archives: Toki&Evie

I just realized how difficult retirement will be

I live with the belief that I will retire in the next 20 years; it is a great hope of mine. I’ve heard that a lot of people retire and then just die because they have no purpose left in life. That is not going to happen to me. Gabe and I have a whole list of things we want to do when I no longer have to work. It’s a long list and after the past week, I worry we will never get to it.

I took the first week of the New Year off  (highly recommended, by the way) and had hoped to take down Indoor Christmas on the 1st. Usually, I like to leave it all up for awhile but the house has been non-stop decorated for one holiday after another since October 1st and I was 100% ready to have it all back to normal. After Christmas was packed away, we were going to clean like crazy. I figured that would take me to the 3rd and then I could tackle my list things I wanted to accomplish after the house was clean and put to rights:

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It’s not a long list. There are no difficult items. I had a week to do this. Why didn’t I get it all done?

Well, guess what?
The Goodwill stuff only got packed up because I did laundry and had to put it away and needed space. I did manage to finish And I Shall Have Some Peace There: Trading In the Fast Lane For My Own Dirt Road  by Margaret Roach  and felt good about that, but everything else? Didn’t even touch it. And you know why? Because as we cleaned, all these other things that needed doing kept popping up.

I emptied the china cabinet, dusted and oiled it, cleaned the contents, then put it all back and found that I am missing 3 little garden party cups.

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The cups in the foreground? There should be 12. I can only find 9. My heart hurts over this.

I know the set was whole when I moved in, but I don’t know if I put all the pieces in the cabinet, or not. That necessitated a trip to the Underhouse (like an undercroft only different because we don’t live in a medieval dwelling) to see if there was still a box of fancy dishes down there. I didn’t find one. Since the shed is a disaster zone, I couldn’t look out there but I don’t put things like that in the shed. After an hour of searching, I had to give up and just cry. This particular set is important to me and I hate knowing I’ve lost some of it.

Gabe got us a new bird feeder to replace the one that met with a horrible demise in a recent bear attack. It was taking up space on the living room floor so I had to fill and hang it and, in the process, was mugged for my birdseed by the local gang. Little bastards.

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That deer that’s looking at the seed on the ground? It just came right up. I marched off to get the dog who then barked these bullies straight out of the yard. Good job, Daisy May!

The amaryllis my mom gave me – it came as a bulb in a box – four years ago finally bloomed for the first time so I had to take a LOT of pictures of it. Every day. And I had to tell it how happy I was that it was finally able to show off and that it was stunning. That sort of cut into my cleaning and sorting time.

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It’s so pretty! I want to stare at it for hours like I’m some sort of creep. I don’t think it would mind, though. That’s why I have a lot of plants. They don’t care if I’m creepy. At least, I don’t think they do.

We celebrated Toki&Evie’s 5th birthday on January 3rd. We sang to them and gave them birthday food (Fancy Feast, something they NEVER get any other time of year) and presents (new treats and new stuffed mice) It was a good birthday for them but I can’t believe they’re five. That has nothing to do with cleaning, really, but it deserves mention because Evie told me to put it in here.

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Five years old! He’s so big!

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Also five…and apparently none too thrilled about it. Well, she sure changed her tune when we popped that Fancy Feast lid.

And once we were finally finished after FOUR DAYS!!! (seriously? how dirty are we?), we sat down and discussed the problems and gaps we’d found and what do to about them. This lead to a discussion of things that need to change. Here are some of the things we’ll be doing differently:
-The little tabletop water fountain I’ve got in the dining area will be used more often; I’ve had it running since I put it back out and it’s been a pleasant background noise. Also, I like to think the water that is surely evaporating from it is good for all the plants nearby. Win/win.
-We will plan meals. We ate well and on-time the entire week despite being horrendously busy getting dust and cobwebs in our nose holes. It wasn’t hard – the eating responsibly thing, not the dust in the nose-holes thing (though that wasn’t hard, either). If we can do it while on a mission to restore tidiness to our home, we can do it in a normal week.
-We are taking back the kitchen table! It’s not a parking lot, it’s a place to eat. No more gnawing food mindlessly on the couch in front of the TV and no more messy table top. We both want to lose weight and I have a feeling this will help (it’s far too easy to sit on the couch and just continue shoving food in our faces while we watch an entire season of some TV show or another on DVD)
-We are going to clean up after ourselves immediately. We’ll just clean as we go, all day every day, and then I won’t have to clean the house on weekends and we can do fun things, instead!

These sound like resolutions, but they’re not. They are the things we need to do because we are grown-ups managing our own household, because we care about our health and well-being and about our marriage. So…we’re just going to do them, new year or not.

Come Saturday, I was exhausted. So was Gabe. We sat around all day and read. It was glorious but I felt a twinge of guilt because I hadn’t done anything else on my list and I knew I wouldn’t because Sunday was devoted to meal planning, grocery shopping, and getting ready for Monday.
That’s when I realized how hard retirement will be and I wondered if we would ever get to our Things To Do When We Retire list. Maybe that’s the real reason people just up and die after retiring; it’s disheartening to know that you thought you were done working only to find you are just beginning. I think I’d rather some eternal rest, too, than a retirement full of finishing unfinished crap.

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Filed under Adventures, In my backyard, My Dearly Beloveds, My Phenomenal Fake Life

Let me tell you about Evening

So Evie’s been jealous since Toki got his own post and she didn’t. She’s angry that The Dog shows up here multiple (2) times when she’s only been mentioned once, briefly. Actually, she thinks this entire blog should be about her because she heard about Kitty Drunk Drunk’s and Evie is convinced she’s much prettier and fluffier and softer and sweeter and would be far more lovely to read about and everyone in the world would fall in love with her. She tells me it’s unfair and that this constitutes neglect. She has threatened to call the ASPCA. I’m not too worried about it but I see that her feelings are hurt and I don’t want her to feel unloved, like she’s not getting the same amount of attention as her brother. So here’s the story of Evening.

I did not choose Evening. Gabe did and he chose poorly. She may be softer than a bunny and covered in beauty, but she is also a miscreant, a horrible monster who delights in torturing pretty much everyone. She loves people who are allergic to cats because she can rub against them and make them swell up. She loves to pee on things for the hell of it. Or because she’s angry. Or because she’s making a statement. But mostly, it’s because she feels like it. She’s just a bad cat.

The day we met Evie. This is why Gabe fell in love with her and had to have her. LOOK AT THAT FACE!

We brought the babies home and this one started “shirtling” right away (To Shirtle = my nephew was little and was surprised by the cats perching on our shoulders and in his excitement, he yelled, “THE CAT! IS ON! YOUR….SHIRTLE!” which is shirt and shoulder combined. So when they sit on our shirt and shoulders combined, they are shirtling)

She annoys Gabe to no end, following him around and singing Marceline’s song about fries. She jumps in his lap and furs up all his things, including his beard, and it makes him face-itchy for minutes afterward. She scratches the couch while looking straight at him, mocking him. She does that to me, too, actually.
She also sleeps on my head and does my hair at night which leaves me with a coif that would frighten even Medusa. She doesn’t like to wash so my pillow often smells like dirty cat. And she sheds. She sheds so much that I could probably make a rug every week out of her abandoned hairs.

She was so precious. She really was. Now she’s just a monster.

Evening just jumped into my lap and is reading this. She does not approve and has suggested I write something else, something with “moar truths.” She suggests this with her claws in my thighs so I’m feeling the need to comply.
Evie is the most beautiful cat in the whole world. She is delicate and fragile and everybody loves her. There will never be a more wonderful angel baby sweetheart pie for as long as humanity shall exist. The world is fortunate to be graced by her lovliness. If only we could all have even a modicum of Miss Evening’s perfection, everything would be 1,000% better. Truly, I am a fortunate cat mommy.

Here are more pictures of Evening. Please note how full of beauty she is.

Dear Evie – When you come in from outside covered in the neighbor’s motor oil because you were rolling around in their driveway, you get a bath. You were very lucky there was a sunny place where you could dry off and be fluffy. You are such a nuisance and I will give you more baths just to spite you. With love, Mommy.

Evie is a helpful gardener. She likes us to tell people we grow cat tails. She is an idiot.

“I haz byootee, doosee?” (Translated: Do you see how beautiful I am?)
SO vain. P.S. – she wears things of her own accord. I don’t have to put them on her. I wish I had been abusing her in this picture, but she loves wearing jewelry, so it was fun for her.

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Life. It is so hard when peepols are stoopeed.

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My cat is a zombie…from hell

WARNING: This post contains REALLY GROSS PICTURES of dead rodents. It’s gory and graphic and if you get at all queasy over mice, dead things, headless things, brains, eyeballs, or exposed teeth, please close this page immediately and go do something else that’s pleasant and charming. Also, if you don’t like cats, you should move along.

Have I mentioned our brain-eating zombie cat? Because we have one and I never know whom I’ve told.
His name is Toki and he is sometimes a doctor (he refuses to leave our sides when we’re sick or injured) and usually a lover (he has a very romantic accent when necessary) and is mostly adorable and sweet. Here are too many pictures of him so you can see how precious he is.

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From cute baby bat to cone of shame, Toki is always (usually) covered in the hansums.

We got him and his sister (shut UP about that littermate crap already. They came out of the same mom, they’re brother and sister, ok?) in 2008 when they were 8 or 10 weeks old. I don’t remember, exactly, because I’m a crappy mom. Can you imagine if I had human kids? I’d be all, “What? Last week was your birthday? Who the hell ARE you, anyway, and why are you in my kitchen?” It would be disastrous.

Such a drama queen

Originally, we were going to get twin tabbies but they were boring. Instead, Toki chose me so I had to choose him back and Gabe made the unfortunate mistake of going with the prettiest of the litter instead of choosing the one who chose him and we’ve paid for it ever since. She’s a horrible little beast (I love her anyhow). Her name is Evening and she is a diva.

Because of their natures – Evie being all concerned about her stupid fluffy tail and Toki being the prowler and pouncer – we figured our little man would be the first to bag a hunting trophy. We were wrong. Evie brought the first critter – a pregnant mousieshrewvole. She didn’t kill it, though; just stunned it and gave it to us.  Toki was very interested in the whole affair and a week or so later, he brought in a bird. He was quite proud when he presented his catch and we praised him and I secretly vowed to attach more bells to his collar because he did kill his victim.

Several weeks later, I walked out the front door on my way to work and found a decapitated mouse on the doorstep.

Not what I expected to almost step on when I walked out the door.

The following week, there was another, complete with bloody bits of bone parts.

Now it’s getting disturbing. More disturbing, however, is that I take these pictures.

I wondered why there had been deposits sans skulls on our front steps. Was it a very small death threat? Did someone in the house have a crazy stalker who left gruesome presents in the night?

I solved the mystery when I came home one afternoon to find my darling sweetheart angel baby all hunched up on the walkway doing something odd. His back was to me and I thought maybe he was hacking up grass as my dumbass children tend to do. I got out of the car and said soothing things as I walked toward him. He looked over his shoulder with large, psycho-eyes and STARED at me. I began to worry he had rabies or something.

It wasn’t rabies. It was a dead mouse and I had interrupted Toki’s Ancient Egyptian-like method of removing the mouse brain via the eye socket. But he didn’t eat the eye. It was dangling from said socket and there was lavender-gray brain coming out behind it.
If I were a better person, a smarter person, a more sensible person, the type of person my mother probably hoped I’d become rather than the product of her own weird ways, I’d have done pretty much anything other than what I did do. I picked the partially de-brained animal up by its tail – WITHOUT USING FINGER PROTECTION! – and took pictures because that’s the totally sane reaction to finding out your sweet little kitty boy is actually a horrible monster.

I KNOW! RIGHT?

Now I live with the knowledge that my cat is a brain-eating zombie and he is going to get to me one day, too

Brains/braids – so similar and in the same area. He’ll figure it out one day and I’ll be in trouble.

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Filed under My Dearly Beloveds