No More Palm Tree

A few years ago, I wouldn't let Buck cut down the little volunteer palm tree that sprung up next to our side porch. I thought it looked terribly cute the way the fronds shaded the porch from the morning sun.

Unfortunately, the thing grew. The leaves waved high above the eaves, it sterilized the ground so nothing but a few scraggly weeds grew and the roots were starting to lift the porch foundation. I told Buck he now had permission to cut down the palm.

The only ones who have had a problem with this were, of course, the cats. They used that palm tree  to climb on the roof. The other day Archie raced across the yard headed for the palm tree. He came to a screeching halt and for the longest time stared at the little stump that remains. (We don't dare pull the root ball out for fear of tearing up the porch.)

What happened to the kittie ladder?

It's Cold Outside

Through the good weather, even our "indoor" kitties prefer to spend most of their time outside, coming in only to eat. Only Archie likes to take his morning nap in the house. Once the weather turned cold for the first time a couple of weeks ago, all three decided they would rather be in the house. Suddenly, Buck and I had a hard time finding a place to sit.

Bootsie decided she needed to nap in my favorite place on the couch (the nerve of her!) Then, because she liked that spot, later Archie, then Precious decided they would try to beat her to it. More than once I have been faced with the choice of pushing a sleeping kitty off my spot, clearing my computer, books and other junk from the other half of the loveseat in order to sit, or dragging my sewing chair out into the living room. I usually mutter a few empty threats and then leave sleeping kitties lie.

Archie still prefers Buck's side of the bed, although he also likes my spot on the loveseat and Buck's chair, too.

Precious started out in what I call "four corners." It is the one place in the hallway where, without moving her body, she can see the front window, the back sliding glass door, Buck's desk in the side bedroom, and, if she cranks her head around a little, she can see what's going on in the kitchen. Although, like I said, once she realized the other kitties thought Mom's seat was the best, she snuck up on the pillow on the loveseat as often as she could.

This last rainstorm, no one has wanted to go out. The cat box has seen a lot of action. Even our Archie who much prefers to go outside to do his business resorted to his favorite indoor emergency place. His former owners tub-trained him, so last night Buck found a little "kitty-kiss" in our new hall bathtub.

It has been cold. But with Buck busy doing all his firewood thing, he has not had time to clean the chimney flu or bring in the firewood box. So, no fires in the woodstove yet. This morning at 8:00a.m. it was 62 degrees in the house. I'm okay with 68, even 66 degrees, but that was too cold. I felt motivated to do a load of wash and bake something just to heat the house a little. No way, though, am I turning on the furnace and running up the utility bill--not yet!

Then I try to keep things in perspective. I think about those millions of people back in New Jersey, New York and Connecticut who have been through Hurricane Sandy and two major winter storms. They have been without power for two weeks. This is nothing. My thoughts and prayers have been with them and the utility workers who have been struggling to restore power to everyone back there. I am so grateful right now that I live where the weather is mild in comparison.

Changing the subject, Buck and I harvested some sweet potatoes from a field a block away (we are in the country. Our blocks are big.) The farmer had already harvested the field for commercial purposes and is waiting for the vines to dry before he disks what's left under. There are still a lot of culls remaining and the farmers don't mind people coming to get them for personal use.

Look at those sweet potatoes! There is nothing wrong with them except they are a little small. I have been handing them out like crazy to friends.

Leaves

 Can you see the kitty in the garden hiding under the leaves of my overgrown broccoli plants? This is where she chose to hide out from our triple-digit heat days, especially the one where it got to 106 degrees. She got mad every time the sprinklers came on.

We tried to explain that the water in the ground was what helped her stay cool. She was not buying it.

 Finally finished with the redo of the hall bath -- such as it is. I designed a valance to coordinate with the leaf design in the shower curtain.

 The back, showing how I stitched in the vein design for the leaves.

 Ta-dah!

 I am glad I swapped out the old aqua blinds for these white blinds.

 Not my favorite color palate, but fun. I like how these colors brighten up all that white.

 I unloaded the contents of the old sink cabinet into this office box when we started the project. Since I have not yet purchased a new cabinet for the side of the new pedestal sink, I put the box in the corner. At least it is color-coordinated. Precious thought we did it just for her. This is where she hid out during our two triple-digit heat spells, although she moved to the bathtub two days ago.

My sister gets the credit for this idea. She suggested converting our "You might be a redneck if..." photo to black and white to hang in the bathroom. I gave this to Buck for his birthday. He loved it. If anything in the bathroom draws a comment, it is this picture!

Feathers Everywhere

Some lessons in life require a refresher course in order to be remembered.

Tonight, I heard our old kitty, Precious, outside meowling like crazy. I figured she wanted in really bad because it had just started to pour down rain. So, I quickly opened the door for her.

Once inside, she kept up her loud meowling, which is not like her, so I knew something was up. Only then did I remember to check to see if she was carrying anything in her teeth. Yes, oh, yes, our old girl proudly dropped a dead bird in the middle of my living room and came over to receive her congratulatory praise and petting for demonstrating what a skillful huntress she is, even in her advanced age.

I performed the duties of proud owner of a masterful little huntress, all the while keeping an eye on the bird. I worried it might still be alive. The last thing I needed was a wounded and frightened critter flapping and squawking around my living room and into my face while it tried to escape from my cat.

The bird appeared to be dead. I needed to get it out of the house, but I do not touch wild little animals, dead or alive. About then, Precious pounced on the bird again, tearing into it for a late-night snack. A cloud of feathers flew into the air. I envisioned blood and innards all over my carpet next. I grabbed my cell phone to call Buck. No answer. After leaving him a rather disjointed message, I decided to look for him in the shop. I figured that with a little bit of luck, he was out participating in one of his ham radio nets. I flew past Precious and her bird, dragged Buck away from the Ham Shack, quickly gave him the short version and told him I needed him to get a dead bird out of our living room. He came in, praised Precious up and down, but kindly informed her that, rain or no rain, her birdie had to go outside.

The lesson I needed to relearn is that it is necessary to check the pearly whites on these cats BEFORE we let them in the house. We can praise them through the screen door, but they need to keep the mice, gophers and birds they catch outside.

It is good I planned to vacuum in the morning, anyway, because I have bird feathers all over my carpet.

O, Kitty, Where Are You Now?

Bootsie - File Kitty

Archie - Hose Reel Kitty

It never ceases to amaze me the places these cats will find and claim as their spot -- at least for a few weeks. Forget about trying to dislodge them. They will leave and find a new spot when they feel like it and not before.

Bootsie - Tidy Bowl Kitty

Tonka - Sew Kitty

Precious - Sink Kitty

Archie - Headboard Kitty

Bootsie - Box Kitty

Archie - Printer Kitty

And then there are the Sew Helpful kitties.....

Bootsie liked it so well on the sewing table that Precious decided today to join her.

Archie - Tummy Kitty

Last, but not least....

This is still Tonka's all-time favorite napping spot

 

Shoulda Been September

Has it really been since July that I have posted an entry?  This news should have been in September. I told Buck at the start of the year that with all his purchases he makes, in 2011 I expect to get a new toilet for our master bath. Very indignantly, he told me that it was not as simple as that. If we get a new toilet, we also have to get the rest of the stuff to lay down a new tile floor because he is not going to set a toilet twice if he can help it. Fine with me. Here is a shot of the new toilet and floor.

We got a Jacuzzi brand that is about 2.5 inches higher than a normal toilet. Buck thought that with his weak knees, it might be easier on him as time goes on. At first when I used that toilet, I felt like I was a little girl sitting on her grandpa's potty. But, I am adapting.

I do love the look. How can I get so excited about a new toilet? There is a reason there is no "before" picture. The floor, those horrible vinyl tiles that pull apart at the seams on a wood floor, were trash. The toilet was probably about the same age as the house, circa. 1945. It was impossible to clean, even with a pumice stone.

Archie likes the new toilet, too. Air-cooled in the summer -- the soothing sound of rushing water. He claimed it right off, which means that we have to fight him to use it or give up and use the hall bath. He let us use it for a little while. Now that it is cold enough that we have fired up the wood stove, the front room is too hot for him. So, back to the toilet -- air cooled.


At least Tonka does not switch his favorite sleeping place all that often. He tends to stick to the high ground -- the top of Buck's recliner.

Shower Cat

Not everyone has a cat who keeps them company while they are taking a shower and drying off....

Finicky Cats!

I stopped buying canned cat food by the case years ago because my cats stopped eating it. Turned up their collective noses. I offered dry food until Precious, our kitty that we believe was accidentally poisoned several years ago, could not keep dry food down. So, we went back to canned for her, but bought the one and only flavor that "stunk" right and that she would eat.

A few months ago, she refused to eat that. So, we switched to shredded in gravy, not pate.

A friend who no longer has a cat gifted us with a case and a half of cat food. Precious still won't eat it. Bootsie and Archie, our other two kittys who eat indoors won't touch it, either.

Not ones to let good cat food go to waste, Buck and I decided we were smarter than the cats. We started mixing the juice from one can of people tuna with three cans of cat food. The cats like it just fine.

And, Buck and I have tuna salad every day or so for lunch. It is a high protein, nutritious meal.

Only problem is, we still have about two-thirds of a case of cat food to get through before we go back to buying the stuff our finicky cats like straight out of the can. Buck and I are sure getting burned out on tuna salad for lunch.

Success!

*

We finally trapped Sparky, the last of our feral kittens that needed a trip to the vet to be either neutered or spayed. We do not know yet which, but we will learn soon.

This cute little kitty has been very elusive and trap-shy. Buck set the trap out a few days ago. S/he kept nosing about the cage, but did not venture in, at least while we were watching. We noticed this morning that someone had gotten in and eaten the cat food we left as bait without tripping the door. But, this morning, I no sooner turned my back after watching the cats eat from the food bowl on our back stoop, than I heard the sound of the trap door slam shut. Sure enough, if was our Sparky. Success!

Mama Gidget went to the vet in December. We knew she was a female, and with weaned kittens, we did not want to chance her having another litter.

We waited until the end of January before we tried to catch the kittens. We know that they need to be about six months old to be neutered if they are males, or the vet will send them back home. Our first success was little Scamper. At first he was hissing mad, but then he settled down.

Since his surgery, he has become very friendly with the "old man", CeeCee, Bootsie's brother and litter-mate. Actually, CeeCee's name is spelled CC:, since it reflects that he was a carbon copy of his father and uncle and a few other cats born in our yard. CC: has become tame, and he lets us pet and hold him all the time.

Scamper has almost become friendly to humans. Although still cautious, in order to eat, he will come within two feet of us while we are petting CC:.

Next we put out the trap for Sparky. Much to our surprise, we caught Jeffie. Jeffie is a male we have had for years. He has always been very trap-wise, and we never were able to catch him. Even though we were after Sparky, we did not look a gift-cat in the mouth, so to speak. Jeffie went to the vet.

The vet wanted to know how old he is. Buck had no idea, but told him to look up Bootsie to see how old she is. They were not born in the same litter, but they were born within a few months of each other from different mothers back when we had 21 cats in our yard, all related. Bootsie and Jeffie are something like 3rd cousins, twice removed. They are six years old.


So, today Buck posed with little Sparky before taking him/her to the vet. But, if we thought that adorable kitten was going to look at us so we could get a shot of his/her cute little face, we had another think coming.
*
2:30p.m. update: Sparky is a she. She is doing fine and will be ready to come home tomorrow morning.

Thankful Season?

Wow! 'Tis the season....

It is the joyful season, although some days I feel like it is the insanity season.

Last month was what I called the "thankful season". I celebrated each day up until Thanksgiving Day by stating on my Facebook page at least one thing for which I was thankful.

I almost used "I am thankful that the stray momma cat that someone dropped off by our place only had two kittens." But, then, I decided that being sarcastic was not expressing gratitude in the right spirit.

Buck is an old softy when it comes to little animals. He couldn't do anything to harm them. However, we both know from experience that if we do not take care of new cats as soon as they show up at our place, we are soon overrun. At one time, we were up to 21 cats in our yard. We were down to four for a long time--until momma and her kittens showed up.

After two weeks of grumbling about it, we gave in and named the cats. Momma is Gidget, the solid dark one is Scamper and the speckled one is Sparky. Of course, we have no idea if the kittens are girls or boys because they are feral cats. They do not let us near them. The only thing they get near is the food bowl.

No time is a good time to have to come up with a vet bill for spaying a feral cat that may or may not stick around. December is especially not the best time to come up with an unexpected vet payment. But, we knew if we did not get momma Gidget in pretty quick, we would be looking at some more cute kittens before long. Not good.

Once we were sure the kittens were weaned, we set out the trap for Gidget. Day after day, all we caught were the kittens. We did not want them yet. We figure they were born about September, so we will take them into the vet in January or February.

I almost dispaired of ever trapping Gidget when one day last week I looked out the back window and, lo and behold, she was in the trap. She looked up at me and whined, as if to say, "Please let me out! You always let my kittens out."

No, Gidget, I don't think so!

I headed for the phone. It was early afternoon and I knew my vet usually does spaying in the morning. I figured I would make an appointment. I started wondering how I was going to get water into the cage so she did not get dehydrated before morning.

I told the vet's receptionist I had a feral mama cat in my trap. "Feral" must have been the magic word, because she asked if I wanted to bring her in right then. Did I ever! Buck was not around to take Gidget in the truck, so I lined my car's back seat with a large garbage bag and towels, and loaded up the trap. She hissed and fussed when my son first picked up the cage, but surprised me by riding quietly to the vet's office.

Sparky and Scamper were a little out of sorts when they realized momma was gone. Once we brought her home, she hid out for the better part of a day, but then all the kittys were back to their usual routine.

I just hope Gidget enjoys those kittens of hers, because they are the only ones she is going to have.

CATS RULE -- Unfortunately

Sometimes you just can't win with cats. At least, I can't.

Our two indoor kittys, Precious and Bootsie, love to change their sleeping spots every few weeks. Two weeks ago, Bootsie decided on my desk chair. Not only did she settle in and start shedding her fur all over, she actually had the nerve to drool on the seat. But, I knew there was no point kicking her off. That was her spot until SHE decided to go somewhere else. I just put down an old blue bath towel and decided to wait it out.

I raised children so I know how reverse psychology works. I knew if I pushed the issue with Bootsie, she would claim that chair even longer because -- CATS RULE. So, I ignored her. I hoped she would change her mind soon. If I needed to use the desk, I rolled MY chair with sleeping cat away and brought in a task chair I use at my quilting frame.

Ah, but we cannot forget the "You got it, therefore I want it" psychology. Our other kitty, Precious, decided that if the chair was so great that Bootsie wanted it, then she had to have it, too. There is no "sharesies" between these two cats. They almost tolerate each other most of the time. But, they do not cuddle up together in the same catnap spot. Not today -- not in this century.

First, Precious settled down to nap at the foot of Bootsie's chair. The next day, she hopped up on the chair while Bootsie was still in it. Bootsie was not happy. If looks could kill, Precious would have been a goner. We scooped up Precious before the two could start World War III. Finally the day came that Precious beat Bootsie to the chair. After that, Bootsie could not sleep there anymore. Precious had ruined the chair.

CATS RULE. It was Precious in the chair instead of Bootsie, nevertheless, I was still without a desk chair.

I guess Bootsie decided it was my fault that Precious took over my chair--excuse me--her chair, because the next thing I knew, Bootsie was sleeping in the middle of the quilt on my quilt frame. She must have thought it made a really nice kitty hammock. I discovered this new catnap location as I was getting ready to go away for the weekend. I knew I would not be there to fight the good fight. Buck was laughing so hard at the kitty antics that he was no help at all. So, I lifted up Bootsie long enough to cover the quilt with tablecloths and decided I would deal with it when I got home.

I arrrived home and Bootsie was still on the quilt frame and Precious was still in my desk chair. So much for using reverse psychology with the cats. Time for tough love.

The weather was nice, so I threw the cats outside for awhile. I took away the towel that was covered with kitty fur, slobbers, stickers and dander and put down a clean towel. I knew that cats do not like getting near plastic grocery bags because of the static, so I cut open a garbage bag length-wise and put it over the quilt. I then sat in my chair and started to use the computer. By the time Buck let the cats back in to eat, I was ready for them.

Much to Precious's dismay, I took up all the space in the chair and stayed close enough to the desk that she could not get up in my lap. However, I could not stay there forever. Once I stood up, she was in the chair.

Bootsie was not to be deterred, As soon as I turned around, I saw Bootsie asleep on the quilt. She found that plastic cover quite comfortable.

I decided to quilt. I flung the plastic cover over the sleeping Bootsie so only her face was uncovered. She did not like that. She pushed the plastic away, but it was in the area where I was stitching so I pushed it back. She decided to lay down right where I was working. I picked her up and put her on the ground. We did this several times.

Bootsie was tired and I was cutting into her catnap time. She got in a snit and climbed on Buck's chair to sleep. Both of our chairs were taken up by cats, but at least I got her off the quilt.

Ah, but there is also the "detract-them-from-something-they-want-by-offering-them-something-more-attractive psychology.

Buck took the last of the chips out of the case box and sat the box on end near the dining area as a hint for me to get more chips next time I go to the store.

We learned long ago that Bootsie probably should have been named Boxie. If there is one thing that cat cannot resist, it is a box. The next thing we knew, there were two little yellow eyes peeking out at us from inside that box.

I liked Bootsie in the box. She was off of my chair and my quilt. Unfortunately, she knew I liked her in the box. This morning, she was back on top of my quilt. As I write this blog entry, Precious is at my side waiting for me to get out of her chair.

CATS RULE.