a charleston reconnaissance… east bay street

East Bay Street extends down to the point of the Battery, but I’m starting these pictures from the spot where I got past Rainbow Row, headed in the direction of the Provost Dungeon, and eventually, the Market. Strangely enough, our advance down this end of East Bay Street began with window boxes, flowers, and a cat.

There were a lot of beautiful window boxes, full of colorful flowers, scattered all along the streets. Just as I was examining this particular one, the inner shutters opened, and a cat peered out at me. Well, I’m not sure how much he could see, because the sun was so bright, his pupils almost disappeared. But I could imagine this cat demanding why we were looking at HIS flowers.

Then, suddenly, he stuck his head (but not his body) back through the shutters, as if someone was calling to him. I figured they were telling him that it was okay for people to look at the flowers, and he was responding with, “Oh. Ok, well, fine then. They can just LOOK, but that’s all!”. I wasn’t the only passerby taking pictures of the cat, though I wish my camera hadn’t focused on the flowers. I had meant to get a good picture of the cat, with the flowers on the outer edges. He’s a bit blurry, as you’ll notice.

Shortly after that, we passed another building that I like which holds a jewelry store, but I’m much more interested in the ivy-draped brick and the cupboard-style wooden contraption built onto the front. I’m guessing that isn’t original, or maybe it’s a copy of an original design. It really does look like a wardrobe built onto the outside of the building, though.

The Provost Dungeon was next, but we didn’t go inside to look. I have been there many times, with my friends. There’s a lovely gift shop upstairs, but the tour takes you down below where they even have Pirates of the Caribbean ride-style robotic pirates that narrate some parts of the dungeon. Or was the parrot the narrator? It’s been a while. They really concentrate on the Revolutionary War era and the early years of Charleston, rather than on the Civil War.

We made a brief stop back at our parking garage, to exchange our heavier jackets for some lighter ones, as the sun was finally starting to warm things up. But if you got caught in the shade when the wind blew… ooh, it was chilly. But since we had parked on the roof of the garage, I was able to get some nice photos of the surrounding area, including a church steeple (I think) and the top of the Provost Dungeon.

The building with all the stable doors, I’m not sure what the building is, aside from being next to the garage, but I have some fun memories of a year when a friend and I took multiple photos of ourselves in those doorways. I really need to find those pictures.

I continued to take in more of the architecture of East Bay Street as we got closer and closer to the Market. One of them, the Southern Brewery, is not just an old brewery but a restaurant. We’ve eaten in there, and they have a huge old-fashioned brewing machine right in the middle of the restaurant. We had a wonderful time, on that visit (and again, I have pictures somewhere), but mostly I remember that being the last time a certain new friend was with us. Some of us were only just getting to know him, when he was shot and killed in Atlanta. Now, he’s playing cello in heaven, waiting for us to join him.

Most people are probably familiar with the S.N.O.B. shirts that people bring back from Charleston, just like with the A.W. Shucks shirts. But did you know where they came from? I’ve been by there many times, but I’ve still never been inside.

And last, but not least, right before reaching the Market, we walked past the United States Custom House of Charleston. It was started before the Civil War (prior to 1861), but not finished until after the war, around 1870. I always have the tendency to want to call it the State House, though I know perfectly well that the South Carolina State House is in Columbia. It has that look that most Capitol buildings do, whether in DC or in Columbia. 

I believe the Custom House has quite an illustrious history, but I just realized that I’ve never been inside it. I suppose it’s because it is still used as a Custom House, and is not just a tourist attraction. There are probably tours inside, though, wouldn’t you think? Maybe we’ll find out and make that our next trip for “Mondays in Charleston”. I’ll have to mention it to my friends.

the cat’s meow…

Some of you have probably been stalking my blog, in hopes that I will eventually post more kitten pictures. Considering how many pictures I took of the cats, when they were little, surely I would remember that there are still cats in this house? Well, it’s kind of hard to forget, even though there are only three, now, instead of six.

Yes, we did manage to get three of them adopted, and planned to keep one for our family. But we still had one more kitten, and no one ever came for him. So, now we have three cats, and though we still refer to the younger ones as “kittens”, they really aren’t. Both of them are the same size, or even slightly bigger than their mom. Babies they are not.

Taggle was one of the fluffy kittens, and the most personable, if you can describe a cat that way. Always looking for a place to sleep or a lap to cuddle in, and less likely to run around outside. Somehow, our remaining kitten became Tom, but that was some time after we found that our kittens were boys, not girls.

For all of Taggle’s original preference for being indoors, lately, he’s been spending a lot more time outside. I wonder what kind of adventures they get up to, when I’m not trying to figure out whether we can ban them from the house. Yes, I know we can’t do that, and I wouldn’t. Really, most of the time, they aren’t any trouble. And then they do “something”, and I change my mind. But whereas you might threaten your child with not being able to sit down for a week, what do you threaten a cat with?

A month ago, we were still trying to break them of the habit of nursing off of their mother, even though we’d had all three of them fixed. Yes, we found out that she could still produce milk, but since they’d been weaned for a month, at that point, having them go back on “the bottle” was a bit weird. Yes, I read that it’s something they do when they’re upset… well, watching a “kitten” nurse from his mom, when he’s BIGGER than her is upsetting to all the grownups.

We attempted to ignore them, and let them get over it, but that didn’t work, so we began policing them closely, and those cats knew that they weren’t allowed to do that in the house. If I saw them at it, I’d say “Don’t even think about it!”, and the kitten in trouble would try and look innocent. Oh, they knew.

They seem to have stopped this frustrating behavior, at last. And for the most part, they’re potty trained, and mostly they use the outdoors. Their mother trained them well. But the occasional mishap (like this morning) is enough to make you want to pull your hair out. At least they’ve stopped pooping in the wiring, under the TV.

My main problem (oh, it’s not really big, compared to more important things) is that I don’t like whining. I don’t like it in adults or children or animals. And when it comes to animals, you can’t make them stop, because they either don’t understand, or they won’t understand. Their mother likes to whinge at you, to get you to fill up her dish, even when it isn’t empty. The kittens occasionally join in, but when I inform them all that they “have to finish what’s in the bowl, first!”, the kittens usually get hungry before their mom does.

Taggle has a tendency to want his mother to be in sight, though sometimes he’ll go to sleep without her. But he’ll come inside, and a loud wailing sets in, as if he must make sure that Dusty isn’t in hearing distance. Usually it stops after a bit, but when it continues, I’ll let him go outside again, and get it out of his system.

You’ll see from the pictures that they’re quite handsome felines. No more pictures will be upcoming after this. I stopped taking pictures when they stopped being cute, and started being annoying. Like most cats. But it occurred to me that some of the original “kitten post” fans, especially from my last FP’ed post, might be interested. So, here you go. Your cat fix for the day.

P.S. If you have trouble remember what these guys looked like when they were little, please see “turning into cats“, “kitty klatch“, “open your eyes“, “four days old“, or some of my other kitten posts (I think there are 10-12 posts about kittens). I was shocked, too, when I looked at the old posts, and saw how much they’ve changed in several months!

skyrocketing…

After a post or two about some good books, I feel like there’s no possible way to follow them up. Everything else will be dull and uninteresting. So, advancing from that premise, I can talk about anything I want to, because it will all end with the same result. Ahhhh, the relief.

I’m having trouble settling on any one topic, but that’s probably because the heat has fried my brain. No, really, when all you do, all day long, is sweat and continue to drink water and Gatorade, how can you possibly have any serious thoughts about anything? Before anybody makes any smart remarks about “glistening”, I don’t sweat much, in general. But in this heat, you have to… or else you curl up and die, I suppose.

I put my Akubra hat on to go outside and hang up the laundry, as the temperature’s been over 100 degrees Fahrenheit for the last three days, and no one in their right mind would run the dryer. Of course, we rarely use the dryer anyway, but you’d need to have a death wish to use it now. And when the signs by the railroad say that the heat’s in the extreme danger section, and we’re not supposed to light a fire for any reason, not for barbecuing or burning leaves, could running a dryer cause an explosion, too? It’s an interesting thought, but I’m not testing it out. It’s bad enough that my girls still like to make cookies, using the oven, on days like this.

Of course, I have the coldest room in the house, so I have somewhere to retreat from scorching temperatures. Everybody else goes to visit the pool. I like the pool, too, but I’m afraid I’ve been a bit of a chicken about it, ever since my ear ache came back for a while. It seems to have cleared up, so I really need to go see the doctor, hopefully for the very last time, here in Australia.

I know, it’s probably asking a bit much, but considering I’m only in Australia for FOUR MORE MONTHS, you’d think it wouldn’t be that much to ask, to stay away from the doctor? Good grief, I still don’t know what my doctor looks like, back home, and here, I have no trouble recognizing him, and prefer him to both doctors I had to see over vacation.

Time’s going to fly by, now, so those of you at home waiting with bated breath for my return… I’m coming! My friends have reminded me that I will miss the March conference at GWH (have we decided on a real name for it, yet?), but it will be the last one that they have to survive without me. Yay! So, you’ll have to play Apples to Apples without me, and if you actually get to play volleyball (if so, it will be a first in the last two years, and I will be immensely jealous!)… well, I’ll have to pick up some more volleyball scars at another time. Maybe at the Labor Day conference. Booyah, I’m coming!

Strangely enough, speaking of the March conference and GWH, I was reading Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods (I knew there was something else I could talk about, in another post!), and he mentioned stopping off in Caledonia State Park, and being unable to find the Appalachian Trail from there, because of the bad maps. I wanted to laugh, because Caledonia is a pretty dull park, but I happen to know exactly where the AT is, because I lived just down the road from it, for years!

What else goes on here? Aside from the soaring temperatures (somebody was telling me that asphalt was melting in some places), the kids are still on vacation, so life is very full and lively. The baby has a mild case of conjunctivitis, so she gets the joy of having us wipe her eyes with eye drops and cotton balls, now and then. And it only makes her a little more fussy than usual, however, carrying a sweaty, crying baby, in this weather… well, I’m sure you get the idea.

The girls are preparing for school, putting name labels on all their gear, including individual pencils and markers (is this normal in Australia?), and getting new shoes. Sadie’s getting ready to start kindergarten, which is very exciting, and she and Emmie are each getting a new uniform to wear. There is endless squealing over how cute they are, when they try on their slightly-too-big uniforms.

The cat went into heat again, causing her to make untold amounts of noise and to hiss at her two remaining kittens, whenever they hove into sight. Or when they aren’t in sight. I think it’s because we recently found out that they’re boys, and she objects to boys at this time, especially when they’re related to her. So, at the moment, she’s in the closet for the night, as they’re all three getting fixed, tomorrow. We’ve been over this with the girls, several times. Dusty’s not allowed to eat, from 6pm and until after her surgery tomorrow, so DON’T OPEN THE CLOSET. I expected caterwauling, but they tell me she’s really in the closet.

We’ve had some thunder storms at night, though the rain isn’t causing the temperature to drop at all. So, when it began, last night, the doors began to slam shut. With the downstairs being so warm and humid, I opened the door, this morning, and found some poor frog had lost its life in the slamming. I felt sorry for it, but more sorry for myself, as I had to clean up the disgusting mess.

What else? I’ll try and post about Bryson’s book, or some general stuff I’ve been reading, soon. I’m starting Detection Unlimited, by Georgette Heyer, and trying to figure out why I don’t remember (yet) what happens. I know the plot, backwards and forwards, in all her other mysteries. I considered reading Venetia, but decided I still needed a little time before I read it next. I’ve read some of them SO many times, I still have  wait it out, occasionally. And one downside to a Kindle is that you can’t just open the book anywhere and start reading. Which stinks, really. One of the glories of an actual, paper book, is being able to start reading anywhere you like, and jump around… or even read the book backwards, if you want.

Sorry for the ramblings. Blame it on the heat, if it makes you feel better.

[P.S. I just realized that this is my 200th post. Three cheers for me!]

sardines in the house…

I can see how today could have been much worse. It rained all day, so Bea wasn’t able to go mustering, like she’d planned. So, I had all five girls in the house, and things could very easily get lively. I don’t think it started off well, because Bea was hiding from Emmie (which I didn’t know), and it escalated into me spending fifteen minutes looking for her. By that time, I couldn’t figure out whether she’d gone for a bike ride without telling me. Kit having told me she didn’t know where her sister was, I was starting to get a little worried, when Bea came out of hiding.

Of course, they thought it was hilarious, but I was ticked off at having been lied to, when I’m responsible for their whereabouts. I don’t need to be spending tons of time searching for children, unless we’re playing hide-and-seek. So, after I figured out to approach the problem, we had another talk, where I did my best to explain why they couldn’t hide from me and how lying to me is not acceptable, even if they think it’s only a joke. I’m swift on the uptake, so if they’re hiding from someone else (Emmie, Sadie, Bubby), they’re capable of getting the point across to me, without letting the other sibling in on the secret.

Things improved after this. The little girls watched Playschool and Bubby finally went down for her nap. At which time, it occurred to me that playing Sardines would be the perfect game for this group. The little girls do fine, even though they’re helped a lot. After explaining the rules, I’d help one of the little girls to hide and then let the others know it was time to look for them.

After a while, I got a turn. If you’ve kept up with my kitten posts, there’s a shelf that they lived on for a month or more. The floor is the next level down, and though it’s all a closet of shelves, the bottom one is a bit taller, and the length of the shelf closet… well, I could almost stretch out full length. Ignoring the possible existence of spiders in the webs I was tangled in, I got comfortable and even used some clothes to cover myself. It took them at least ten minutes before one kid even peered into that closet. Then, Bea climbed in with me and there wasn’t any room left for another. We had a great time, shouting every once in a while, but they still didn’t look and find us.

Lunch was a little late, because of playing that game, but after naptime and TV shows, I suggested another round. But the little girls wanted to build a “cubby” (tent) instead. So, I helpfully moved all the chairs over and they brought all the pillows for the floor. Bubby thought this was great, though she occasionally tried to pull the “roof” down. Her new favorite discovery was that she could hang by her hands from the side of the table, now that the chairs were removed.

My workday ended, but we did actually have another round of Sardines, afterwards. I miscalculated on space, trying to fit my upper half into the innards of Kit’s desk chair, and the rest of me under her desk (it’s a director’s chair, with a pink cover). I didn’t quite fit, and though Mrs. B attempted to fix the problem (with 10 seconds to go!), the chair still looked like it was breathing, when the girls came into the room.

For those who’ve been keeping up with the kittens (who are almost three months old), two of them are going to be adopted after Christmas, and we’re working on finding homes for the rest. Another was claimed, and then the family backed out. Meanwhile, the kittens seem to use the litter tray AND the outdoors (I’ve seen them go outside, and then bury it), but some or all of them still like to go amongst the wires, behind the TV. So, the scent of kitty poo is a good reminder that we really do want them all to find their own families.

They’re not little anymore, not by a long shot. I was looking at their newborn pics, yesterday, and the changes are crazy! They haven’t quite caught up with Dusty, for size, but they’re getting there. Today, for the first time, she batted them away when they tried to nurse (they were down to occasional snacks), so the weaning process is just about complete. They run around outside, climb trees, and chase birds, lizards, frogs, and bugs. But if one is by itself, in the dark, they’ll wail that they’re lost, hoping someone will find them.

So, I know that we need the rain, but I don’t really appreciate it keeping all the kids inside. However, the cooler temperatures are nice, too. We’ll just see how this goes, as it’s supposed to rain and/or storm a good bit for the rest of the week.

The yawning picture that we WON'T show prospective owners.

feel that air…

I am writing to you from bliss. Seriously, I haven’t been this cool and comfortable in a very long time. Pure bliss. I think I’ll have to get my comforter back out of my closet, because I haven’t needed it for weeks, it’s been so warm. The sheet has been optional, as well.

Yesterday, the guys came to work on the house, get the evaporative air conditioners working, downstairs, and to install a wall AC in my room. As I’m on the second floor, this is a very good and reasonable idea. This was actually supposed to happen last week, but they were too busy. So, in they came, and went to work on the wall of my room. I watched them get out their longest ladder, to try and get at the same spot, on the outside wall, but nothing doing. They would have to come back with a cherry-picker, to reach my room.

A cherry-picker was needed to install an AC in my room! I kid you not. Isn’t that awesome? It gets better, though. If you notice in the pictures, there’s corrugated iron on the outside of the house, blocking my room’s wall from being reached. Ok, so they have to get the cherry-picker into it’s highest position, and then they have to get through or under that iron, somehow. Good grief.

I’m actually not sure how they managed it. I don’t think they drilled through it, I think they put a pipe under it and somehow connected the dots, by that hole they made in my bedroom’s wall (you know, the one that’s a few inches wide). Fun.

Now, I’m very familiar with this model of AC, as we had them in one of the buildings I cleaned at my last job. So, I knew I needed a remote control for this one, as I can’t jump up and down on my bed, trying to adjust the temp by hitting buttons on the unit. Awkward. Yesterday, one of their guys put the remote in the door of their truck… and today, that guy wasn’t a part of their crew. So, their leader had to track down where the remote went, and then go find the guy and get it out of his truck.

During all this, we rescued the laundry from the line, and I took some pictures, discovering that the cherry-picker basket has loads of dirt in it, so if they shake it hard enough, it floats out on the breeze, where I got a load of it in my eyes. My Sadie peered out at them from under the house and then promptly lost interest, but Bubby was enthralled, when she woke up. I kept finding her in the back doorway, peering out at the workers.

Likewise, when the kittens weren’t asleep, and I was nice enough to keep the back door open, they were watching the excitement, too. All the noise, at one point, sent the kittens scrambling for their lives, which I thought was quite hilarious. But hey, it was a good moment, because since we regularly have mattresses, comforters, or sheets on the line (or in the wash) because one of them peed or pooped on it, I’m not always in the greatest mood with the kittens.

Yes, they’re doing better, but I don’t go easy on them, and they know it. They’re going to have to behave themselves, once they’re adopted, so they can start learning now. They should also be grateful for all the times I prevent Bubby from stepping on them, or worse. But they continue cute, and I really wish we could mail them to some of my readers in the U.S., because we haven’t found owners for them, yet.

So, wherever you are, I hope that you have your room’s temperature set just perfectly. Whether you need air or heat, it pays to be comfortable. Sleeping will once again be a joy, too.   : )

turning into cats…

I am my mother’s daughter. Kittens are adorable, but cats are not.  And these kittens are turning into cats, so I am slowly losing interest in them. Sure, they’re pretty cute. But being cute does not outweigh finding piles of poo under the tv stand, stepping in poo (when barefoot), and having beds and mattresses peed on.

Kittens recline on a flip-flop.

A clean litterbox is the bed of choice... sometimes.

Yes, they all seem to have learned to use the litter box, but they like just as much to treat it as a bed (when it’s clean) or as a sandbox (when it isn’t clean). With five kittens, and randomly located piles of poo (not in the litter box), there’s no way to know if they’re all potty trained, or just a few of them.

My apologies for disappointing you, but if I include kitten/cat pictures after this, it may be randomly thrown in during a post about my day. I usually have to remind myself to go take some pictures of them, though today, it wasn’t so difficult. Yet, even in the process of taking some of these pics, I stepped in fresh kitty poo, and was extremely peeved about it.

All the felines watch a flyby.

I’m sorry, people, but I’m ready for them to be adopted (and so is Mrs. B), so that someone else can work on them, one on one. And if you’re a cat person, you’re probably thinking I’m crazy, judging by the cuteness of all the pictures.

Watching the noisy birds.

But remember, looks are only looks. A child may be absolutely beautiful, but if no one has taught them any manners or how to be kind, they can be rude, willful, and even mean. A guy may look drop dead gorgeous, but he may also be a jerk and a creep. Good looks get you nowhere with me.

So, there were some really noisy birds outside, this morning, and the back doors were wide open. So, as you can see, all the kittens gathered to observe. In one picture, I actually caught the non-noisy bird in flight. But watching the kittens see the world through open doors was pretty neat. And they’re pretty cute, when seen from the outside, all lined up in a row.

I hope to get back to my usual posts, on a variety of topics sometime soon, so if you’re only here for the kittens, you may be out of luck. But it never hurts to check back.

As for me, I’m on antibiotics, so I am feeling better, but I had a bunch of blood work done, today, so I’m hoping for results by next week, to tell me what’s wrong. I have plenty to write about, I just don’t always have the energy to think or to just sit here. But things are looking up, I’m breathing better, sleeping better, and maybe they’ll figure it all out next week.

And so, for one last major hurrah, here are the kittens. Enjoy!

not so kittenish…

I leave the house for three days, and what happens? The kittens have a growth spurt. For sure and certain, they aren’t so little anymore. I was told that while I was gone, all five of them were nursing, and they big enough and squirmy enough that they were pushing Dusty steadily down the hallway. What a weird feeling that must have been.

Let’s see, what’s happened with them since I wrote last? Hmmm… they’re six weeks old. Oh, yeah. They didn’t last long in the cot. One night, Dusty brought them all out of it, one by one, and that seemed to be that. When we were trying to convince them to eat kitty food and then use the litter box immediately, we’d put them back in there, temporarily. They’d chow down, and then I’d put them right in the litter box, giving them the idea of what they were supposed to do.

Potty training them is going alright. We keep finding little piles of poo in odd places (under the tv, by the speakers), so I think we have one kitten that can’t remember to use the litter box. The rest of them seem to be doing fine.

Their eyesight must’ve improved, because they’re all over the furniture, galloping down the hall to help Dusty eat her food, and into everything they can find. I’ve taken less pictures of them, recently, not only because I was away for several days, because as cute as they are, they’re turning into cats. Meaning, I notice all their quirks and messes and get annoyed by the puddles and smells they leave around.

They do lots of wrestling, with each other and with their mom. The family left the house for a bit, earlier today, and it was like open season for wrestling with mommy. They knew I was the only one home and went at it.

In the heat of the day and at night, they’ll curl up in all sorts of places to sleep. Some will settle on the couch, others under the furniture. One got stuck under the coffee table, last night, so she just spent the night there. This afternoon, though, three of them were all but asleep after nursing, and Dusty wandered off and left them. The other two decided they were lonely, and joined the pile. So, right in the middle of the floor, there was a perfect triangle of kittens that looked like Frankenstein’s cat, their body parts were so tangled up.

They’re so curious that if I get distracted, while folding laundry, I can be startled when one of them comes up and licks my food. They regularly get underfoot, which causes me to yelp when I nearly squash one. But as for the kids, they seem to be surviving them just fine. We still keep an eye on Bubby, and she seems pretty satisfied to just look and pet them… I haven’t caught her trying to pick one up, recently. Though, she gets very excited, and then she’s in danger of bouncing onto one.

The other little girls have a tendency to pick them up, and I get after them about it, especially if the kittens have just gotten to sleep. If I’ve been watching the kittens play hard and then finally fall asleep, they don’t need to be awakened, any more than the little girls do, when they fall asleep at naptime. Besides, I need a break from the kittens, sometimes, because it can seem like I’m babysitting 7 kids, not two. And they haven’t even gotten upstairs yet (for which I’m very grateful).

So, life goes on and the kittens keep things interesting. They’re close to weaned, so their meals with mommy seem more like snacks now, as they love the kitty food… and mommy’s food, too, though they’re really not supposed to eat that.

hide-and-seek: kitten edition…

I often find myself counting the kittens. Making sure that one of them isn’t asleep in a corner, when her sisters are chowing down on kitty food. Have to be sure we didn’t leave one in the playpen, while the rest are prowling the house. Just a habit I’ve developed, you know.

Then, after making some no-bake cookies, earlier, I noticed several of them, sound asleep in the hallway. One of them was actually in a doorway, and hadn’t even stirred, when Bubby tried to shut the door in her face. The other two curled up against the wall. So, I went for my camera, took some pics of them, and then went to see where the others were sleeping. And couldn’t find them.

Now, we had the back door open, earlier, but several people were right out back, and the kittens haven’t been adventurous enough to go near the door yet, unless they’re following their mom to her food dish. Those outdoors, well, I warned them to keep an eye out for an adventurous feline, just in case. So, I really thought we’d covered everything.

I had the house to myself, when I discovered that we were down two kittens, so I texted to be sure they hadn’t given some away that afternoon or taken them in the car. Yes, I know it may sound ridiculous, but there had been a visitor, when I’d been busy. I was sure the kittens were two young to leave their mom, but you never know. And they’ve never yet taken them in the car, but there’s a first time for everything.

I took into account all their favorite places to hang out. And yes, I know most of their hangout spots. One of them likes to recline under the shoebox (dresser with drawers for shoes). At least one or two of them sometimes hang out on the couch. Our kittens seem to be quite literary, as I regularly find three or four of them on top of the bottom shelf of books. One, in particular, especially likes John Le Carré. Another, I can’t decide if they prefer the Catechism or L. M. Montgomery.

I’ve found them in baskets, under furniture, on shelves, in slippers, on couches, and many other places. They can fit into all sorts of neat places. Ever tried to find something that you misplaced? How about something you didn’t misplace, but it actually walked off?

The family returned, to find me taking a breather on the couch. Tired, hot, sore feet, and bruised from falling on the stairs (first thing this morning), I didn’t really want to be crawling around looking for baby animals right now. But no one knew where they were, so away we went. And Dusty, blast that mommy cat, wasn’t even concerned. I kept telling her that she needed to use that nose of hers and find them. Besides, I still had this niggling fear, in the back of my mind, that they could’ve gotten outside.

But if they had gotten out, they couldn’t have gotten far. When trying to find a kitten, you need to think like one, or be very observant of them. I spend all day with them, and though I don’t empty the litter tray, I look out for them in all other ways.

They’re still easily alarmed by their surroundings, so going outside would have freaked them out. Thankfully, Belle was in her pen, because I’d be afraid she’d get one and try and “play” with it. Booboo, the little dog, wouldn’t have bothered them. We searched under the house, though, and found nothing.

So, what’s left? We’ve searched under all the couches and beds, multiple times, I’ve poked book bags, and looked in the not-good places (toilets, tub, under the oven). They’re not capable of climbing the stairs yet, but we searched up there, anyway.

I was getting tired, feeling responsible, if they’d gotten outside, since I’d had the door open. Still, I went upstairs and got my flashlight, and started looking under everything, all over again. The messiest bedroom really was the likeliest place, and I went looking again, remembering there were boxes for dress-up clothes under Sadie’s bed. Hauling up the bedclothes, I found that one of the plastic boxes didn’t have a lid. Moreover, it was clear plastic, with a funny shape and design pressed against the side.

Ever seen a little kid fall asleep with their head against a window? Or just pressed their face against a window? I hollered for Mrs. B and she and all the little girls came running, to see this hilariously squashed little striped face, pressed against the side of the box. Never would’ve found them, without the flashlight. And they weren’t too thrilled at being waked up. But I was SO relieved to have found them. They sleep a long time, and it was really warm out. We might not have found them until the next morning… or the little girls would’ve been awakened by whining kittens, wailing in hunger, under their beds.

I don’t have any pictures of them in the box, sorry. I hadn’t been searching with a camera in hand. Hope you’ll forgive me.

kitty klatch…

The kittens have turned 1 month old.. So, here are some pictures from this fourth week in their lives. And… oh, I’ll just go ahead and say it for you. Aren’t they cute? Be honest, you KNOW you were going to say it (or some variation of it).

Right before the 1 month mark, we still had them in their basket, but it had been moved into the living room. A couch had been angled to block one side, and the magazine basket was guarding the entrance. Anyone bigger than a toddler could step over that basket, easily, but Bubby had to climb, which would give us a chance to grab her in time.

After a while, we grew tired of grabbing the baby, so we moved the baby gate in there, trying to keep Bubby out and the kittens in. At this point, the kittens were doing their best to climb out of the basket. Sometimes they succeeded, and sometimes they didn’t. If they squeezed and squirmed a lot, they could even fit through the little holes in the side of the basket.

By their “birthday”, they were easily climbing out of the basket, and exploring their little piece of territory behind the couch. But there was a gap under the armrest, which they could crawl through, and even though it only looks like there’s about an inch between the couch and the floor, several of them managed to squeeze out that way. At least they stopped going through the holes in the basket. I was debating what to do if one of those fat little kitties got stuck between in and out. Do you cut the basket up, to get them out? Fortunately, they didn’t try this often, as it was too tight a squeeze.

When we kept finding them out on the floor of the living room, I blocked the armrest gap with another board. Later that day, I came back to find Dusty leaping from the floor to the back of the couch, carrying a kitten, while I could hear squeaking from somewhere. Our coffee table is more of a dresser, with drawers that go in both directions. Bubby likes to pull them out, to use them for steps onto the top of the coffee table. Dusty had put one of the kittens INSIDE the coffee table (not in the drawer). I quickly put a stop to that, and pulled the poor kitty out of there. Left Dusty with her kittens on the floor, while I tried to figure out what was a better place to put them. Have to protect the kittens from the baby, while finding something tall enough to keep them from getting away.

Nothing in the house seemed to be taller than a laundry basket! I started wandering from room to room, waiting for an “apostrophe” to strike. Finally, I walked into the master bedroom, and “lightning struck my brain”. I hauled the pack-n-play out into the living room, and put mommy and babies into it. Bubby couldn’t get in, and I was pretty sure that even with their climbing skills, the kittens couldn’t get out.

I was right. The kittens are great climbers, but that last few inches of canvas at the top of the cot, they couldn’t get a grip on it with their claws. Eventually, they’d wear themselves out, and stay off the netting for a while. I didn’t think they could claw through it. But after a day of it, they did manage to pop a hole in the bottom of the netting. Blast.

I grabbed the clear nail polish, and treated the hole in the pack-n-play just like any woman would her stockings. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Then I went to Bubby’s room, found two empty nappy (diaper) boxes, and broke them apart. Placed them on either side of the pack-n-play, and the kittens haven’t been able to get a grip on the walls of their “prison” since then. I think the points are finally going in my favor.

Since the advent of the cot into the living room, the kittens are right where everyone can see them, but the three little kids either can’t reach them, or it’s hard to reach them without falling into the cot themselves. But since they’re right there, we can haul them out for a kitten session, like we did the other night, on the couch. Just look at those blue eyes, highlighted by the blue couch! We don’t know if the colors of their eyes will change, but I’ve heard it’ll be another month or two, if so.

We’ve also started to assist Dusty with the weaning process, and introduced the kitties to cat food. Or, kitten food, actually. Dusty likes the taste of it, too, so we shoo her out of the house, whenever we feed it to the kitties. Thus far, only three or four of them have taken any interest in it. Three of them, especially, and two of those are the fattest of the five. I’m sure that in the next few days, they’ll all start liking their new meal. And not long after that, we’ll be bringing the litter box back out, so that Dusty can start potty training them.

I didn’t know Dusty as a kitten, but they’ve told me that she was litter box trained, before she even got here, so they never had a problem with that. Dusty’s only been using the outside since Bubby learned to crawl, because cleaning up a toddler after they’ve gotten into the kitty litter isn’t very fun. We’re hoping our mama Ragdoll will do a good job, training her babies in the way they should go, so they’ll make their new owners really happy, when the time comes.

And in case you can’t tell, taking pictures of these curious, adorable little creatures… well, it’s flat out addictive. So, I hope you enjoy them. Of the kittens, at least. You’ll have to excuse the pictures of me, I’d just been running.  : )   Oh, and the following expression is what you get when a kitten sticks all her claws into you.  : )

i’m NOT your mother…

And for that matter, I’m not Dusty’s stepmother or guardian, either. Could somebody please inform that crazy animal? Come to think of it, I hereby relinquish being godmother to the kittens, if it’s going to result in this. Several friends of mine can tell you that a cat better not come near me when I’m asleep, or trying to go to sleep. The only thing that saved her was the mosquito netting.

My alarm goes off at 6:30 am, and I like to get my full allotment of sleep. Yesterday morning, I was sound asleep, when I heard a meow, right next to my ear… and I jumped several feet in the air. I was so bleary, I couldn’t figure out where she was, but I was already hissing at her (couldn’t wake the house up, you know) to shut up and get out. I got all tangled up in my mosquito netting, trying to get out of my bed and deal with that cat, and finally realized she’d been up on my nightstand.

Now, only one time has she come up to my room when I was asleep, and that was right after the kittens were born. I’m pretty sure I was alone in the house, at the time. That doesn’t make me feel any better about being woken up, of course. If I hadn’t had to go to the bathroom, I’d have shut my door and gone back to sleep. So, fuming, with smoke practically coming out of my ears, I still was nice enough to let Dusty outside to do her business. If that mosquito netting hadn’t been in my way (or hers), she’d have gotten on the bed, and probably gotten thrown for her efforts.

I’m actually wondering, now, whether she was meowing the whole time she walked towards the bed, and I just slept through it. The image that actually comes to my mind is of her creeping up to the bed, hopping on the nightstand, and then meowing loudly. Just to see the crazy sleeping human jump out of her skin. I don’t suppose cats are mean like that?

I told Mrs. B and one of the girls about it, after they woke up (see, wasn’t I nice, unlike that blasted cat?), and they thought it was hilarious. Which is fine. But Mrs. B says that Dusty used to come wake them up, if she couldn’t wait until morning. But she must think I’m her mom, to have switched to me. Which is ridiculous, considering they raised her from kittenhood, and all I did was stand by her while she was giving birth. It’s not like I actually DID anything.

But no, she was a whiny cat before pregnancy, and I think she’s whinier since then. No, she’s not in heat, there’s a different sound to that. I swear, though, she thinks you should fill her bowl after she’s had a few nibbles. If she complains to me when there’s food in her dish, I ignore her and tell her to bug off. Whinging doesn’t impress me when the kids do it (ok, I don’t tell them to bug off), and it certainly doesn’t impress me when an animal does it.

Before you think I’m an animal hater, please understand, I’m not. Some of my friends think that, because I don’t fawn over their pets. But I like well-behaved animals that don’t jump up on you or order you around. I don’t like it when animals think they rule the roost. So, I’m more likely to ignore your badly trained (or extremely spoiled) dog, or your snooty cat. Besides, the cat already has too good an opinion of itself, it doesn’t need any encouragement. And I don’t find their purring comforting, so they better stay away from my bed, especially. Most cats that I’ve met, they live to get you to serve them. Oh, there’s truth to the joke about dogs thinking you (the human) are God, and cats thinking they (the animal) are God.

So, I was on speaking terms with Dusty, when I arrived here, but didn’t pay her any extra attention until she got pregnant. Sure, I gave her some lectures about being promiscuous (which she ignored), but I took good care of her. Now, she follows me around and tries to get me to do things for her, all the time. Some people find it odd that when I’m in their homes, their pets (especially the dogs) will follow me around (ok, not ALL of them). I don’t pay them any attention if they’re jumping all over people and making a ruckus… and yet, they still take a liking to me. Must be all my inner charm.

Now, I’ve watched a lot of The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Millan, so maybe I’m accidentally doing it right. Some of the time. But then, I still resort to yelling at them (dog or cat) when they don’t do as they’re told, rather than try and convince them I’m the pack leader. Gotta work on that. Yes, I know they don’t actually understand me. Do you have a pet? How often do you remember that your dog doesn’t speak English (aside from the words WALK or EAT)?

Back to the cat issue… I’m looking forward to getting my window AC unit, this week. Not just because it’ll feel great, but as soon as I have it, I can keep my door shut and not suffocate in the heat. And then, Dusty won’t be able get me to let her out for a midnight potty break. Ha HA. So there.

Oh, and per the pictures, I have to admit that I was just as sorry for Dusty, as everyone else was, after Sadie gave her a haircut. But now, I have no pity. Dreadful, aren’t I? But to keep the rest of the household (people, animals, Barbies) safe, I ask my girl DAILY, “What are we allowed to cut with scissors?”. And every day since then, she tells me, “Only paper”. Good girl.