So, it snowed last night, only a couple inches of lightish stuff, easy to move off of stairs and vehicles. It’s raining now, just a little, the outside temperature at 35F/2C. While Steve was making breakfast, I went out, shifted snow, and dusted the stairs with sno-melt in prep for the plowman’s eventual arrival.
The operative word in the previous paragraph is “eventual,” and I have several things on the to-do list which are in direct opposition to Waiting for the Plowman, involving, as they do, the basement. I would also, frankly, like to go back to sleep, but that’s clearly not in the cards until after the plowman.
Last night’s hot toddy did the trick for me, in terms of a goodish night’s sleep. I was disturbed once or twice by Feline Check-Ins, and once in the aftermath of a Feline Emergency (detailed below). After the six-thirty wake-up-and-take-your-meds alarm, though, Trooper jumped into the bed, curled against my chest and purred us back to sleep. Apparently, Day Shift had come on and he was now willing for both of us to nap until dusk.
Which, all things considered, was probably Not a Bad Plan.
The eventuality of the plowman, however, was in play even then. I woke up for real at eight, to find Steve before me, got dressed and performed the required rituals to the Goddess of Meager Snows.
However, that Feline Emergency in the night? Steve had this to say about that:
The night, given my my state of coughs, sneezes, and general restlessness I decided to camp out on the nice couch in the living room. Well, at least I slept for about 3 hours before first cat incident wherein a cat stepped on my nose, around 2. After that I woke on the order of once every hour and odd moments. I ache, feel like I’ve been beat up, and after yesterday morning’s startle I’ve even got a couple bruises to go with that.
Oh yeah, was sleeping good again, finally, about the time the cats decided to work on the crystal bell effect at 4:30 AM … Sharon heard the crystal bell down the hall in the bedroom. I heard the crystal bell quite clearly in the living room. I also heard what she didn’t — the sound of desperate jumps., stuff flying off the table, things hitting the floor….
Accident Reconstruction says that — an unnamed cat (likely Sprite) was pulling food out of her new Corelle dish — when she leaned too hard on the bowl, launching it and the dry food in it into the frame of what we call the cat-couch (actually, a garden bench) — thus giving off the well known crystal-bell effect. The startle of the sound and flying crunchies engaged the patented OMG Get Away Now Drive and Sprite — after bouncing off and knocking over one of the gallon vinegar jugs stored at floor level so they can’t be knocked down — lofted onto the kitchen table, landing on Sharon’s address book and her place mat. This was not a gentle landing, and her force carried all before it, including sun glasses, an MP3 player, a watch, a set of car keys, the place mat, Sibley’s Backyard Birds of the Northeast, a check book … and my sleep. While things slid, bounced off the fridge, and dropped to the floor young Sprite’s trajectory continued and she briefly came to rest within a few inches of Trooper, who was/had been sleeping on his box but who cat-instantly woke. Sprite bounced off Trooper, he ran down the hall (exit stage right, pursued by demons) , and Sprite bounced off the basement door, off the door to my room, and wide-eyed, stopped only to return big-eyed to what in the world I’d done, anyway.
So, anyway, it being 11-ish here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, and the plowman nowhere in sight, I shall descend to the basement to accomplish my several tasks there, and then return abovestairs to the rest of the to-do list. If the plowman cometh not by 1:00, I will nap.
It’s a plan, anyway.