Friday, December 8, 2017

Loony Bird

For a mature old gal, Cleo has been showing a wonderfully silly, playful side lately.  Maybe she's just getting comfortable with us, letting her inner kitten come out more and more.  We've had so many moments when I wish I'd had my camera handy right then and there, or could capture video of her behavior.
     She loves her pieces of string, and now and then we'll hear the jingle of her little fuzzy balls being batted around.  For the most part, though, her strings, balls and catnip mice just lay on her mat unless we initiate play.  Now and then she surprises us with erratic, wild antics that make us laugh like crazy humans.

     Just last night while mom was putting together Christmas gifts and had several pieces of wrapping tissue laid out on the floor Cleo jumped at the tissue, rubbing her face in it, crumpling and gathering it in her paws and almost-but-not-quite eating it.
     Then, as she often does, just stops and walks away.  It's as if she gets a burst of playfulness, then realizes she's mature and sophisticated and making a fool of herself.
     It's the same with these fuzzy little balls with bells inside them.  Lately she's taken to chasing them briefly when we toss them against a wall and they bounce off and away. 
     She scrambles toward the ball, sometimes swatting at it, sometimes batting it away.  She's got a soccer player's talent for scuttling along the floor, patting the ball back and forth between her paws as she goes.  And then she's done.  She'll just sit there, staring at the ball, often looking at us with that "What?" in her big beautiful eyes.

     Many times when she stops, the ball is beneath her, umm, ample girth, an egg being kept warm by this plus-sized Tortie birdmom.  Speaking of ample, Cleo's due for a physical this morning.  We weighed her last night, and she's dropped to 11.6 pounds, down from her 15 or so since she adopted us last February!
     Her occasional erratic outbursts are such a joy to watch, especially when she runs from room to room, by turns looking around as if something's chasing her and searching for something only she can see.  And then there's her spanking fetish briefly mentioned in an early post.  More on that later.

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Happy Every Day to Me

This is how Thanksgiving was here.  The food- sure, it was good (well for mom and dad, anyway).  The parade- eh, not my thing.  It's a Wonderful Life- didn't quite catch what was going on, and didn't much care anyway.
 Mom, a Mimosa and Me

     The mimosas- whatever.  Mom's fantastic peanut butter cookies- gone.  The 8 pound turkey breast they roasted was reduced to a couple of leftover meals and a pot of stock.  I was hoping to get a crack at that carcass at some point, but woe is me, it was not to be (damn these 13 year old kidneys).  Homemade turkey vegetable soup's on the menu one of these nights, I hear.  All that mattered to me was that I got to relax.  Pretty much like every other day.  I guess every day is a holiday for me.  I suppose I'm thankful for that.
Me, Me and Me

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Yup, This is How Thanksgiving's Gonna Be Around Here This Year

      The turkey's all slathered in olive oil, salted & peppered and in the oven (the crispy skin is dad's favorite part of the bird.  Many many moons ago he worked in an old country inn, where he'd deep fry chicken skins, smother them with salt and not share them with co-workers), potatoes are boiling, stuffing's seasoned just right, and the cranberry sauce is chilling.
     There's rich, moist, cream cheese icing-robed carrot cake, bourbon chocolate pecan pie, snickerdoodles, gingersnaps, still-warm pumpkin pie, piled high with towering swirls of fresh whipped, heavenly sweetened cream. 
     The rolls are just about ready for butter-brushing,  and dad's drooling, near-erotic images of an overflowing gravy boat tilting and twirling through his slumbering brain.

     Damn, mom sure has her work cut out for her.  She's toughed it out for years, reforming this aging foodaholic we know and love, trying to change his ways to keep him around as long as she can. 
     Dad grew up in a large family, the above-mentioned a regular part of all the family gatherings.  Seems everything always revolved around food.  Deep down mom knows she's got an uphill battle, even though dad insists he's over his previous eating habits, habits formed over too many years.
     She's worked so hard to get him to change his ways, and though he's much better with her in control she still worries.
     Today we're going to be having non-GMO roasted turkey breast, fresh green beans, juicy corn on the cob, champagne mimosas throughout the day and- the best part- mom's mouthwatering homemade peanut butter cookies topped with Hershey's kisses.  In moderation, of course (riiight, that explains the two bottles of champagne and half gallon of orange juice in the fridge, right dad?).  
     Mom made the cookies yesterday, filling the apartment with the delightful aroma of her homemade, fresh-ground peanut butter (no salt, no sugar, of course).  She gave dad the unused kisses to bring to work to share, with strict instructions not to eat any (he ate only one, really). 
     As with almost every Thanksgiving since mom and dad met we'll be watching It's a Wonderful Life, catching some of the parade, and just chilling. There's enough stress out there. Mom and dad try to keep things simple. It's one thing we can control.   

     So to everyone, in spite of all the crazy shit in the news these days, in spite of the divisive, sickening, appalling headlines almost daily now, try to have a most awesome and happy Thanksgiving Day.