House of Swank

Stuck in a Rut

The cat, he does not like change.  He likes sunny windowsills, dark corners to hide, and having the top of his head scratched.

He is also a very smart cat, so knows that something is up.  When Sweetie and I were preparing for a couple of recent excursions Samson snubbed us, knowing that he would be without us for a couple of days.

Now he knows something is up, but I don't think he quite knows WHAT is going on.  He just can sense it involves change, and has therefore let us know he is not happy with that.

Basically, this translates to lots of being other places, and when he is around being very vocal about NOT LIKING THINGS ONE LITTLE BIT.

Today I managed to grab him and explain to him that he would like the new house.  It has some GREAT sunny windowsills, a basement with lots of hiding spots, and tons of room for him to run around in.  The only thing he isn't going to like (but we aren't going to tell him about this bit yet) is that the food and th litterbox will likely be on different levels, meaning there will be no way for him to avoid the stairs.  He's suffering through that layout now, but he's getting older, occassionally walks with a limp, and there are times he is standing on the bottom of the stairs and WANTS to go up, but just has to summon the necessary will to make it up the stairs.

Thankfully, he is in a place he knows and loves now.  And will be able to stay here until we are sufficiently settled in the new home that he is not introduced to chaos.  Also, he doesn't know this yet, but he shouldn't have to go to the kitty hotel anymore... that was always a bit traumatic for him.

But, his brain is the size of a walnut, so getting all of this to sink in is really hard.

Gratuitous Kitty Post

I picked Samson up from the vet this morning, and he has spent the entire day telling me that he doesn't like vacations one little bit, wouldn't we rather just stay at home where we can scratch the top of his head?

Except I know he's being a drama queen, which makes it even worse.

I TRIED to pick him up at the vet's yesterday.  Except they were closed for Easter, which I didn't learn until I went to the vet's office.  (However, they did give us last night free, to make up for their snafu).  One of the kennel folk happened to be outside walking a golden retriever when I went by, and when she learned I was Samson's owner she said there was NO WAY I could get him yesterday, as he was a joy to have around and they wanted him one more day.

The first two times Samson was boarded they had to force feed him.  I mentioned that to her, and she said that he was a social eater.  Play with him, and then he'd eat fine.  I could tell they were taking good care of him, and that he had finally figured out that the kennel was the same as the vet's office, which meant he should be in his element.  (Reason #534 your cat is a psycho:  He LOVES being at the vet's office).

When I came to pick him up this morning he was squawking away in his cage, which seemed quite surprising to the kennel person who brought him out for me.  I think she was afraid I would suspect mistreatment from the way Samson was yelling.  When I explained she hated his carrier, and this would end as soon as he was allowed out, she got a look of relief on her face, and also mentioned that he was perfect all week long.

But today, he is expressing his displeasure.  He's finally quieted down, for the most part, but doesn't seem to be able to settle down quite yet.  He's probably just sad Sweetie isn't here to scratch the top of his head.  Once the two are reunited this evening, I'm sure all will be well with the world again.

Gratuitous Kitty Post

Samson's been whining a lot this week.  I think his psychic powers are letting him know he'll be at the kitty hotel next week and he's begging for attention.

Apparently, more attention than little ol' me can provide, so he demands the entire internets pay attention to him.

Sweetie and Samson's Relationship, in Graph Form

The Name Fits

I have read his poetry.  I go to watch him ref at least once a season.  But, until today I'd never seen TeacherRefPoet teach.  I'd seen him coach debate students, but that was somehow different.

Today I got to chaperone my first field trip.  Which, because so many parents wanted to chaperone the trip, meant I got to wander around a cool museum with my Sweetie for a couple of hours, while he stressed about students going missing.

But I also got to sit in on a book discussion this morning, before the field trip began, and come back to play the "Dictionary Game" with his students while waiting for the school day to be over.  This afternoon in class the students asked permission to quiz me, and permission was granted.

Their questions:
"Do you own a cat?"
"Does TRP call the cat kit-ty?"  (He says it in this VERY odd way that is impossible to convey via the internets)
"Does this annoy you?"

Then they were happy and we could get on with things.

Apparently, the students liked me.  And this was conveyed by the fact that whilst playing the dictionary game, one of the students cheated to help me earn a point over Sweetie.

The kids all seemed to be good kids, but I couldn't count how many times they used the word "like" this morning during the book discussion.

Adjustment

There's a lot more WORK to work when you work at home, alone, with no one to distract you.

I need to teach the cat how to take a coffee break.

Lenten Knitting

I always feel  most connected to my spirituality during the Lenten season.  I think it started with the sense of moral superiority I felt when the fundamentalist type folks I knew did not even know what Lent was, much less celebrate it.  I like the fact that the calendar gives us time to step back and make sure everything's in good shape before we get to the big event of the year.   I like the fact that there's a community celebration of excess just prior to the fasting and penitance because hey, we're only human.

Traditionally I have followed the practice of giving something up for Lent - it helps me focus on what's important and where my priorities stand.  My freshman year of college I gave up swearing.  My sophomore year my roommate and I both gave up Diet Coke. 

This year I'm not giving anything up.  I'm already in the midst of making some changes to my diet and lifestyle for health considerations, and to add additional responsibility on top of that seemed a bit much.  And, although the changes SORT OF coincide with Lent, because I was not prepared to start them on Ash Wednesday I wanted to do something else to mark the occasion.

Instead, I've decided to focus on the reflection and preparation aspects of the season, and am knitting myself a pair of socks.

I selected a purple-ish yarn, to reflect the traditional color of Lent.  And I'm trying to use my time knitting as a time for reflection and contemplation.  Frequently Lent is a time when you focus on helping those around you who may be in need, but this year I'm focusing on myself.  Between job changes and preparing for a move, and the various other life issues that have been poppoing up over the last several months things have become a bit chaotic, and I need to take care of myself before I can take care of others.

The rate I'm going I'll be done with the pair before Easter rolls around, but I do plan to wear the pair Easter Sunday.

Gratuitous Kitty Post

Samson was jealous of the fact that I was taking photos of socks and shoes this evening, and practically begging for this photo to be taken.

For a shy kitty he really is an attention whore.

Gratuitous Kitty Post

Knitty is having a contest in which you submit a photo of an item you knit from a Knitty pattern, and they pick the 12 best for a calendar.  Yesterday I made Samson model my first scarf, and snapped this photo to submit.

What you can't see is that my left hand is JUST outside the frame, with my fingernails digging into his hip, to make him stay in one spot.  I had to take about 10 pictures to get one in which he was facing me, but I'm rather pleased with the results.

Samson, not so much.  Especially since he also had to submit to a manicure yesterday.  One which not only required wrapping three of his legs up in a blanket to prevent the kicking and scratching that sometimes comes along with manicures, but the end of the blanket had to be held over his head to prevent the biting as well.  So there I was - sitting on the couch with a big blue ball of blanekt with one little kitty leg sticking out.  Would have been very entertaining to any onlookers.

However, he was a very good kitty last night.  He is not allowed in the bedroom anymore, due to Sweetie's allergies.  We keep the door closed to prevent him access.  If the door somehow ends up open and we are not around he will capitalize on the opportunity and go sleep on the laundry.  But as soon as we show up and say, "you aren't supposed to be here' he will leave.  Seriously.

Last night the door ended up open after we went to sleep.  The cat did not come into the room last night.  He did, however, camp just outside the door and cry.  I couldn't figure out what all the noise was about last night, but now I know he was saying "It's not very nice of you to tempt me with an open door when you know that I'm not allowed in the bedroom.  Could you please remember to close the door from now on, because I really want to sleep in the laundry but know I will get in trouble if I do."

Holey Ceiling Batman!

I have come to accept the hole in the ceiling of the dining room, and the fact that only one member of the household can perform tasks that require light on any given evening.

The hole is still there.  A little bit larger than it used to be (like MAYBE 5" diameter instead of 4"), and has a metal box inside of it.  YAY!!!!  There is part of me that is very pleased with the fact that the electrician had open up the hole a bit and spend almost an hour toiling away to complete this task.  Because if he'd come in and in five minutes had the box in the ceiling, I'd have felt like a complete ass for all my backbreaking trying to get it up there.

It's like the time in college when I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment (it was one of those that automatically locked as you closed the door), and had to walk 4 blocks barefoot to AM/PM to call a locksmith.  It was really hard for him to break into the place, and that made my happy, because there were a LOT of windows and it was on a very high traffic street.

So tonight it's Acapulco Fresh for dinner so I can install ourselves a new ceiling fan.  (Because I've got to get to work AND it would have meant a second hour of electrician charges).

Here's the strangest part of the ordeal.  Samson, the cat, is a fraidy cat.  He likes to hide when strangers are around.  In the early days of his life there are friends who would say, "We think you just put a food dish, toys and litterbox out, because we never have seen a cat as many times as we've been to your place."

So the electrician shows up, and Samson is on his usual perch on back of the couch.  He starts to whine, I presume from being left without a place to hide or clear access to his usual hiding spots - as the strange man with the bag of power tools is between him and his favored hiding spots.  I graciously pick up the cat, carry him to the back bedroom, and pry his claws out of my blouse to let him hide.  What does he do?  Runs back to the living room and takes up perch on the couch again.