Cat spit renders them impotent

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the kneaded erasers
that were on
the art table

and which
you were probably
saving
for erasing.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so chewy.

– Thurber (with apologies to William Carlos Williams)

Some things never change.

Just mowed a lawn for the first time in about twenty years. Sucks just about as much as I remembered. And I think I bruised my palm. Saw the creepiest looking ice cream driver go by when I was finishing up.

The best part of this afternoon�beyond being done mowing�was checking my email and only having two spam mails make it pass my various filters. One was offering to tell me how I could become an ordained minister, the other offering me an opportunity to become a high paid call girl. Something appealing about taking them both up on their respective offers.

There’s just no more rockin’ way to spend a Friday night…

…then to get together with your husband to administer 150 ml of fluid to your cranky old cat with an I.V.!

And I have the lucky duty of sticking the needle in the poor little guy. Me, who hates needles so viciously.

The weirdest part is that since your administering this large amount of liquid (comparative to a cat’s body) under the skin in a fairly quick manner, he gets this temporary pouch of liquid off to one side of his body until it absorbs. Ranger tends to dress left, if you wanna know. I guess that’s really slosh left.

Best part is, we get to do this everyday this week! Then every other day for the next three weeks after that. Good times, I tell ya.

My day did improve

Rather dramatically.

First there was all the positive feedback I received for the Bite Me! fill-in I did for this week’s update, which was very much appreciated. See, by the time I was done with the art and assembling picture and text in Photoshop, I was extremely tired—I had been awake for 22 hours straight — and in a bit of pain from drawing it all in the past two days after work. I had actually put aside more time aside to do it, but the Jenn planneth, the Day Job taketh away. Which, yes, it’s good my work place is busy with billable work—just lousy timing. And worse of all, my in house editor and audience, namely Kip, was away at some business conference in Washington. Again, I had planned for this and had intended to be mostly done by Wednesday night.

So, I was swinging back and forth between thinking it was good to just knowing it was awful—the later down swing being greatly enhanced by the searing pain in my hand from all that damn hatching. Damn, I really don’t know how Kris and Chris handle it.

And speaking of the second Chris, Christopher Baldwin that is, he will doing a fill-in comic story for me the next few weeks over at Girlamatic on Wednesdays, starting this Wednesday, allowing me to take a break between Dicebox chapters. (Oh, right, finally finished Chapter 3 : Forest for the Trees this past Wednesday.)

Anyway, as tired and pained as I was from hatching and bird chasing, I was still game to do some wine bottling with Becca yesterday afternoon—we have a batch of lemon pear wine and a batch of apple wine good to go in my basement. Thankfully she was of a similar mind as I in that we’d really spend this time out organizing and washing the bottles we’ve been saving. It was nice just hanging out and chatting, actually. I haven’t done enough of that lately.

When I ran out to buy some soda for Becca and me from the corner store, I ran into Mark Bothe as he came out of the liquor store that’s right next to it. Which was cool as I hadn’t seen him or his wife Elaine in a dog’s age. His first words to me “You and Kip are coming to our party tonight, right?” My brilliant response, “Party?”

Apparently we had been sent an email invitation about a month a go—which I know I never saw. Which confirms something I’ve been suspecting, that my spam filters are occasionally weeding out email I want. I don’t have suspected spam email destroyed; they go to directories that I then scan and empty, but the load of spam keeps increasing and I’m bound not to catch everything. I have a solution, but more on that later.

So Kip (who came home an hour after I ran into Mark) and I gleefully went to hang with them and an impressive mix of people that are their friends—which I suppose can be expected when you consider their combined interest and work in design, architecture, welding, motorcycles, go-carts, pharmaceuticals, film-making and cocktail culture. And Becca came as well which delighted me not only because I have all these sets and sub-sets of friends I’m trying to have cross over more, but it gave me a chance to have Becca and Elaine show each other their respective impressive tattoos. What can I say? I like tattoos, I think they’re neat and will often show off other people’s tattoos—if they’re easily and politely accessible. I really ought to get soemthing a little more elaborate than the little symbol of Saturn/Chronos in my ear someday.

Anyway, fun was had, I saw quite a few people I know but haven’t seen in a while which was very cool, especially in such a fun and relaxing setting. I felt very good sitting at the bar in the basement decorated in red shag and rope lights, sipping high quality Rye and watching Kip and Becca shoot pool and talking about art and gears with various people coming in and out. I think I’m starting to learn to relax. All I had to do was to temporarily cripple my hand.

Good Morn—BWAH!

So, as I stumbled out of bed this morning—literally stumbling, I was tangled up in the sheets—after just waking up and realizing that I had about twenty minutes to get out the door with my cat Ranger for his 8:15am vet appointment to have blood work done to check the state of his thyroid, what sight do you think would most gladden my heart?

If you had guessed my spouse unexpectedly returned from his business conference several hours early with a mug of coffee just the the way I like it and wearing nothing but a smirk, you would’ve been correct.

If, however, you guessed my other cat Kali standing expectantly at the bedroom threshold with a live bird in her jaws, you would’ve been wrong.

I automatically scruffed Kali to get her to drop the bird and—whaddya know?—it started to fly about the room, panic stricken.

Commence slapstick routine. I sprinted to the kitchen to grab the broom, opening the door to the stairway on the way in case, ya know, the bird got the bright idea of flying down it so the nice lady could then open the door and let it out. Which actually I was planning to do.

Why not just open a window you ask? Well, you see, our windows have these screens that I can’t figure out how to remove without destroying the screen in question. And even Kip is flummoxed by the ones in the bedroom.

I ran back, bumped my forehead on the door-frame and proceeded to try to guide the bird out the door with the broom.

Well. I soon saw the futility of that as it banged into walls and did wacky things like hide behind the stereo and then the stack of pillows on the bed (note to self, change sheets). Anywhere but out the door.

Giving up Plan A, I decided to let it stay behind the pillows, threw open the window and proceed to struggle with the screen. I had to pause in the middle of this in order to chase Kali out of the room as she was stalking the pillows.

I finally got the screen out with only minor damage to the frame (eep—sorry Kip) and started to carefully remove the pillows to reveal the bird. Which then flew up—and into my studio.

I grabbed a confused Kali—who must be thinking “ya know, mama, if you just let me have it there wouldn’t be all this flying around and bumping into shit”—in order to flush the poor thing out. Kali’s presence was sufficient to get it flying back into the bedroom. I closed all relevant doors and trying to guide it to this nice big open window I made for it. I even tried to demonstrate the concept by swooping the broom through the window. Which I guess worked, ’cause then out it flew.

I was very pleased with myself.

Until I realized I had only five minutes to shower, get dressed and out the door with the cranky and now confused Ranger.

Now I’m back. Still no coffee. And I can’t stop wondering where that hapless bird took a crap in my home. Sigh.

Oh well, at least Dylan seems to like the fill-in I did for this week’s Bite Me!

And Bill has begun his epic opus.

Hmmm…. actually that last bit needs its own mention, hold on….