Good Morning, Sunshine . . .

Okay, so my new business plan starts with early mornings, i.e. waking up and hauling my fat butt out of bed before 9:00 (okay, okay -- all your career ladder climbers can be quiet now). I mean, Ariel starts back to school on next Monday! Needless to say, especially if you know me well, that it's a very difficult thing for me to do, especially if I've had a particularly rough night. Well, last night was one of those --- toss and turn, covers on, covers off, left side, right side, sit up and stare at my storing husband, trying to wake him psychically. By the way, that doesn't work,either. So here I sit, bleary-eyed, trying to think of witty things to write. I feel like channeling Dave Barry today.

We have cats. I have an even dozen cats in the back yard. Most of them are feral, but they all seem to know their names. The three that are in the house are Casey (as in KC, for Kitty Cat), her sister Lazy Daisy (just Daisy), and Casey's very first kitten, Baby (my retarded kitty). Then someone dumped the prettiest little calico kitten out here, and I had her checked, cleaned her up, and named her Callie.

When Casey goes into heat, she becomes sneaky. She can slip through your legs and out the door without being seen. Then the next time you open the door, there she sits waiting to be let back in. Todd always, ALWAYS swears "The next time that cat gets pregnant, she's living outside!!! If you want to keep her, make sure she stays inside!!!" Well, guess whose legs she slipped through three months ago?

Anyway, the weekend before last, she had one little tom kitten, and his name is Buster. And he's adorable. All kittens are adorable. He's mostly adorable right now because he can't really crawl yet, so he stays in the box and out of my bead room, that's full of nooks and crannies where a kitten could hide out for days. Well, Daisy is jealous. She has decided that Buster is hers. I don't know if she and Casey had some sort of surrogate agreement or what, but Daisy wants that kitten. So she spends the day scouting out places in the bead room, looking for the best hiding spot. Then she waits for Casey to leave the box.

Now, the box is in the dining room because Casey feels she needs to be close to where I work. If we don't bring Buster out, she will! So I sit here and work on the computer, and the next thing you know, here comes Daisy with Buster, and when I say "Hey!", she drops him. Wherever. There's been a bit of daily rearranging of the furniture to get to the poor little fuzzball.
That's Daisy, acting all nonchalant, waiting for the right moment to jump in and steal "her" kitten.

You've all been subjected to this post because the Beadalicious Beaders told me to write anecdotes about the cats. If you would like to take it out on them, let me know!

Today, I bead.