Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Feeling Guilty

I haven't posted in a long while. And the writer inside was crying a bit, but the reality of it is:
Don't you have to live life in order to write about it? Cuz writing about writing can be done, but can get old if you have 100 posts on just that.. however much Peter Elbow or Noam Chomsky would argue with you.

I could write tomes about the irritation I've experienced in just three weeks. Anything from Arby's encounters with the stupid kind to the cigarette smoking driver in front of me, flicking ashes that fall on my blue baby. But that would seem negative, and I haven't felt much negative lately. I do feel settled though.

I scarcely realized that being a furmomma would pull my heartstrings to stay home and watch. Whether they be good boy and girl or bad boy or girl, they're cute all the same and I want to be there for them. Unfortunately for us both, I have to hit the "hi ho hi ho it's off to work i go" just to keep the kitty kibbles on the kitty table (ie floor to the humankind -- i am not THE cat lady yet).

Perhaps, I'm just enjoying the California sunshine basting my face in it's springtime lull that isn't unlike midwestern summer. For we all know -- only two seasons touch southern Cali -- fire and flood.

But I really pondered this point earlier -- and it's true. I love all of those things and I've caught myself strolling along in life and not online -- and that may not be entirely bad. Other than my bi weekly or so jaunts over to to learn about all the things I want to be afraid of -- and yes having to start a blog for each kitten. Kenobi can't keep his paws off of what his sister wants and is a true Nemesis to her. Perhaps the young Jedi is leaning towards the dark side?

And Princess Tai pawing at the streaming water from my toothbrushing episode 2 -- and trying to catch it, not yet able to figure out that water is as living as you and I, and in a sense, freer and less capturable, kinda like trying to get her into a carrier on the way to the vet.

Or Kenobi letting wind pass and then smiling at my face -- with that "oops i done it" look. And stinky though it is, he's so cute so you pet him anyway.

Unfortunately, no one has yet to adopt his two brothers. If anyone in the California area reads this, please let me introduce you to these two kittens. They were soo sweet; if only, I was a rich cat lady. . . (a single gal can dream)

And then I look at my chewed up receipts -- and regret buying a fifty dollar shredder -- and the fighting and the running across furMomma in the middle of the human night... and yeah, two bundles of trouble are plenty.
This is a rare picture of the troublesome twosome in sleeping mode -- together no less...


Anonymous grumblite said...

A word of warnings with siblings: Each expects their own
dialog with you. It doesn't have to
make sense, as viewed from another person's perspective, but it has to be something that the recipient
recognizes as for their private
enjoyment. I like reciting snippets
from the State of the Union Address
to one sister, and Percy Bysshe Shelley to the other- neither one
makes any sense to man nor cat, but
they like getting their own little
vignettes. It calms the beast within, I guess...

4/21/2006 12:36 AM  

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