Lana, the stealthy panther kitty

I do read your diary about every day. �You're even brighter than I thought, but a little strange in my estimation, but hey, who am I?

What, do you think I sit around watching episodes of Hee Haw?

_____________________________________________________

Does anyone ever get the feeling that Beethoven was a little rough around the edges? That he was the type of person who had a thing for you and you sort of liked him, but then were embarrassed by the thought of being seen with him so you blew him off? Then because of his inner torment, he wrote music.

Vivaldi was a sensitive pony tail man.

Tchaikovsky seems to be a little moody. He was the dominant one.

_______________________________________________________

We had a rough start to the morning. Ok, I did. I woke up to sounds of spousal saying "God BLESSED!". That's him angry. I let out all sorts of four letter words like a longshoreman (and you know, I actually went to a yearly party with a bunch of longshoremen in attendance, and they really do swear, pretty much every other word. Rough crowd. After I got home from that party, I went into my parents room at the 3am and told my dad I had found my people. Really. He looked up over the covers and stared at me blankly.)

Spousal's "GOD BLESSED!" was the cat getting out. He caught her the first time around, but she got out again and I was sure we'd never see her again, what with her getting the taste of freedom. She could pretend she was a panther and all and be stealthy. Until the racoons had her for breakfast. At one point, spousal had disappeared under the Rhody trying to get her. Later, Cathy our neighbor, found her in her garage and got her to come out with this nifty little cat device. Some sort of long stick with a string on the end.

Spousal said "After I get paid..." I thought he was going to say we were getting her microchipped, but he said we were buying one of those cat toys.

We're getting the little panther wanna-be microchipped. She also has this fascination with the downstairs heater vent. I usually call it a heat register and had some Californian's look at me like I had two heads, so I'll say Heat Vent so everyone knows what I'm talking about. She crouches for very long periods of time, creeping up on the vent and pouncing. I actually got down and peered into the vent because I was actually afraid there was something there, like a huge fat rat. It's really just some dust and dead bugs stuck on it. I would clean it, but it gives her hours of entertainment.

This winter, I'm going to take a weaving class. I've wanted to do this for about 6 or 7 years, but didn't know how to get started. With the class you can rent a smaller table top loom. I want to make sure this is something I'd really enjoy doing. Even the table tops, to purchse they're still $400+. Where there's a will, there's a way, right? I'm looking forward to it.

last - next

0 comments so far
Tanya McBee Gunby | Create Your Badge