Category: Blog

Today, we here at the Cat Farm celebrate the second anniversary of Trooper joining the professional staff, and taking up his duties as Companion to the Old Guy and Lieutenant Director of Coon Cat Services.  For this momentous occasion we of course have planned many Celebratory Events, most of which are on hold as the Guest of Honor naps in the sunshine.

The photographer has been asked to put off portrait-taking until later in the day.

I am, as I type, awaiting the mailman. In a Just and Merciful Universe, today’s snailmail delivery will include the the D&A check for Alliance of Equals, which will catch up all monies due in the first half of the year.  Then, we get to sit down and figure out the updated budget, a task which would be much easier, had we the bill from the mason.  Well, perhaps today’s mail will be doubly fruitful.

After the mailman’s passage, I-or-we will need to venture out to Home Despot in order to pick up primer, and a tarp; possibly a roller pan.  Will look downstairs and be certain what we have.

This just in!  The D&A check has arrived, which is eggselent.  The invoice from the mason has not arrived, which is less eggselent, but!  We have a Plan B in place:  assume that the final bill is twice as much as the estimate, set that aside, and then get with budgeting for the rest of the year.

The game of Cat Chess continues with remarkably little in the way of open hostilities.  Trooper has recovered his usual good nature, and taken the Official Stance that he is Not Inconvenienced in the Slightest, nor will he be.  Sprite, I’m pleased to say, has worked out and adopted a Strategy which may actually be a winner.  She has identified all the various boxes and baskets in the house as Sprite’s Boxes and Baskets, by pointedly sleeping in them when Belle is in the same room, and firmly refusing to be rousted from them.  She has decided on the wide-eyed, “Yes, this is MY place,” look, which is non-confrontational while being completely unassailable.  Belle is, for the moment, at least, not pushing the issue, but is contenting herself with occupying Certified Cat Spots which are NOT presently occupied by cats.

I have suggested to Belle that it’s not necessary that she Win; that she can simply Fit In, but I’m not sure she understands.

And now?  I’m off to inventory painting supplies before I go off to town.

 

So, rain here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory as Cat Chess continues.  Belle appears to be jockeying for position; she is a mom cat of some seniority, and seems determined that she will not be Least Cat.  This is admirable, but sadly leaves Princess Sprite — two years Belle’s junior, and not politically adroit — at something of a disadvantage.  Plus, before Belle’s arrival, Sprite had Strangers in the House changing out her chimney — an experience I will myself place at an 8 on a stress scale where 1 is not at all distressing, and 10 is so distressing I want to run away — and thus began the game in a state of disarray.

So, Sprite is being a bit hang-cat, and somewhat skittish. Also, she seems to have caught a cold, and is taken with sneezing fits.  Could be stress, but we’re keeping a Close Eye.

Speaking of stress, last night Steve and I just hit a wall, threw up our hands, and dug out the DVD of The Music Man.  By which I mean the Robert Preston Music Man.  Yes, I know there’s been a remake, but if it’s not Robert Preston and Shirley Jones, it’s not The Music Man.  And it did the trick, silly movie that it is. The final scene, where the band marches out of Town Hall in all its splendor and sophistication, always tears me up.

This morning at the Confusion Factory, it’s dishes, then back to laundry.  I’ll be spending a good portion of the day on the sofa, reading Dragon in Exile in prep for The Gathering Edge.

Speaking of prep, there was a call for a snippet from Alliance of Equals, which I will be reading directly after Dragon.  We aim to please:

“Here we have a subject. I shall influence him to an action, while you will seek to influence him to a different action. Thus, we shall test your innate ability.”

Today’s blog post title is brought to you by Aerosmith, “Janie’s Got a Gun.”  Here’s your link.

 

Yesterday, Steve and I took a leisurely drive in really perfect weather, down to New Hampshire, where, in a little town near Center Harbor, we stopped to interview Belle, and to admire the new crop of Kelimcoons kittens, of which there were many, and busy.

Belle, who was presented as “shy” decided rather quickly that we weren’t the least bit scary, consented to enter the cat carrier, and accompanied us on our return trip to Maine.  Aside from a complaint or two at the very beginning, as we were negotiating the remove from the rather tricky driveway, and another, as we made the transition from Route 25 to Route 35, she was completely calm, and napped for most of the three-hour return trip.

Once arrived, she confessed that she was not quite up to meeting new subjects cats. Staff therefore prepared the Retiring Room for her use, and she withdrew behind the washing machine to recruit her strength.

Staff visited her several times on the overnight, once for an extended cuddle session — Belle was also billed as a “big lap cat,” and this seems to be so, and this morning, she once more undertook a journey, this to the office of her new physician, who made certain that she had taken no harm from her exertions, and recorded her weight at 15.1 pounds.

That detail taken care of, she returned to the Cat Farm, where she immediately began a systematic and thorough inventory.  Scrabble hissed — not unexpectedly — when Bell entered Steve’s office.  Belle did not return the favor, but gazed upon her with wide eyes, and an expression that seemed to say, “Why, look; a tiny cat,” before she continued with her inventory.

Trooper, I am sorry to say, hissed at Belle when she came into my office.  Belle didn’t even seem to hear it.  She jumped into the copilot’s chair as if she knew exactly what it was for, and that she had perfect right to use it.  Gave me a couple of head-bumps, showed the belly and went off to count the linens in the bedroom.

Right now, she’s resting under the headboard, a time-honored resting place for those who wish to insure their privacy.  Trooper and Sprite are with me — Trooper on top of the file cabinet, and Sprite in the red basket on the desk.  Scrabble is behind the suitcase under the desk in Steve’s office — another time-honored private place.

And peace reigns over all.

Steve’s gone to the grocery store; I’ve started the laundry, and will be doing some chores around the house.  Possibly reading will happen.  When I finish the current book, it will be time to read Dragon in Exile and Alliance of Equals back-to-back, and so drift back into working mode.

Tomorrow, at the unghodly hour of 8 a.m., we shall have the sheetrock guy, who will contrive a back wall, and put on the first of three coats of paint.  Once he’s done, we will, hopefully, be quit of contractors for the foreseeable future.

Which will be nice.

Today’s blog title brought to you by Kelimcoons Belle of the Ball, and Leroy Anderson.  Here’s your link.

Some photos from earlier, after Belle’s triumphant return from the vet’s:

Trooper and Sprite got me out of bed at 5:30 and demanded that I give them 100 breakfast, after which I did some minor odds and ends that needed to be done, and sorted out the latest batch of doctor’s bills in order to pay them.  Turns out that medical billing offices need a Very Close Eye Kept.  Who could have guessed?

The contractor and his crew arrived about 7:30, Steve and I had breakfast; I spent some time on the phone with medical billing people; went into town to accomplish two errands I had forgotten yesterday, did some bookkeeping, cleaned the cat fountain, and in a few minutes, I’ll call it a day and retire to the couch for an hour to read.  I’ve got the first Charlie Fox book (by Zoe Sharp), who is, by repute, anyway, Corinna’s polar opposite.

The crew got done with the chimney around 10:00 and hauled out, promising an invoice RSN.  Steve then called the drywall guy, who promised to come by around 5-ish today.  I note that it is somewhat past 5-ish and we have seen neither whisker nor tail.

Tomorrow Steve and I will head south, via the leisurely route, stop for a modest picnic along the way, and arrive to interview Belle at the agreed-upon time.  If all goes well — and we expect it will — we’ll bring her with us back to Maine by a slightly less leisurely route.

One of the day’s excitements was the apparent failure of my mp3 player, a Sansa Clip.  I plugged it into the computer to charge, and found that the computer wouldn’t recognize it, no matter which USB port I plugged it into, and even though the computer could see other devices plugged into the USB port with the same wire.  Despite being invisible and seemingly locked in Constant Reboot, eventually the Clip informed me that it had refreshed my media and that it was 100% charged.  I am doubtful, but willing to play.  We shall see.

And! to cap the events of the day, the interview we did a couple weeks ago with Katy England from the Maine Edge, is now live.  Here’s your link.

Today’s blog title is brought to you by Tom Petty, “Free Fallin.”  Here’s your link.