It's Small Business Saturday -- so visit your independent (Mom & Pop) stores and restaurants today.
And if you need to catch up on your Booktown Mysteries (or someone on your gift list needs to do the same), check out my list of books on my website. Just click this link.
National Tie-One-On Day arrives every year the day before Thanksgiving.
Is it really a good idea to tie one on?
It's been my experience that feeling tipsy is nice. Being drunk is not. The room spins and, at least for me, I spent an hour or so worshiping the porcelain god. Oh, and then there's the hangover where you feel like you will NEVER feel well again. I highly recommend NOT getting totally potted. Drink responsibly.
Have you ever wished you hadn't had too much to drink?
I have been lucky to have a string of wonderful cats. In fact, I came across a saying just yesterday: "No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat." They were all special, but one stands out: Fred. He was my son. My little prince. My sweet puppy boy. I adored him from the day I first saw him at Pet Smart. It took me five months to convince Mr. L to finally let me have him. (The store stipulated that he MUST be adopted with his brother, which is why they were both there for THIRTY-NINE WEEKS.)
Unfortunately, George didn't work out. He was a runt, but he was also a bully. He attacked the other cats, and even I was bitten (and my thumb started to turn black), but when he viciously attacked our Betsy, that was the last straw. He had to go. (And believe me, it was a tearful decision. We'd never had a cat failure.) Luckily, Mr. L's cousin's best friend was looking for a cat. George went to live in Buffalo and the minute he saw Cindy, it was love at first sight. He's still with her and he has not only tolerated her other cats, but been best buddies. Go figure. (We learned the hard way that five cats strains the system.)
After George left, Fred became my boy. He was the most cheerful cat on the planet. All I had to do was look at him and he would purr. He loved for me to throw him over my shoulder and dance. He came when I called him. He wasn't much of a lap cat, but he'd sit with me for at least five minutes every evening. I loved that cat with all my heart and he loved me. I'm still broken-hearted that we lost him to kidney disease 20 months ago.
But loving Fred did not prepare me for Emma.
We got Emma and her sister nine months ago after 11 sad months of being catless. Not that we didn't look for cats. We looked for cats all the time visiting shelters and pet stores. None spoke to us. We wanted babies, because all of our previous cats had been elderly and we didn't want to lose new ones for at least a couple of decades. (We had three cats that lived to be 20.) One of my readers fosters cats. She told us about Poppy and Emma.
At first, Emma was aloof and Poppy was the lover. (She still is, but on HER terms.) It took Emma a while to warm up to us. She's only now learning to be a lap cat (and it seems ONLY when I'm sitting in the family room editing the day's work. Go figure.) But over the summer, Emma decided that I am her human. She is with me at least 22 hours of the day. She sits beside me (in the other chair) in my office. If I get up, she gets up. She follows me like a puppy. If she's out of sight and I call, she immediately comes running. At night, she sleeps either at my feet, or next to my pillow.
Lately, we noticed that the normally silent Emma only talks when I go into the kitchen. For the rest of the day, she's as quiet as a mouse. Here's a video I took of her the other day.
I often feel sorry for Mr. L because Emma snubs him. The other day, I walked into his office (which adjoins mine) and Emma walked past him (on his desk) to jump to his other office chair, climbed on top and begged me to make a fuss of her. She would love it if I made a fuss of her 24/7 telling her what a beauty she is and how much she's loved.
For a while now, I've been having a problem with my baby girl, Poppy. She's the sweetest little girl in the world. Unlike her sister, who pays attention to everything and comes when she's called, and does everything she's told, Poppy is a rebellious girl. She doesn't listen all that well. Like her sister, she's a flipper and a flopper. She loves to roll on the rug--back and forth and forth and back. She's a good lap cat at the end of the day and will sit quietly, but during the day? Not so much. She also likes to bite -- everything. Not just me, but paper, boxes, desks, you name it, she bites it. She's not teething. She has passed her first birthday, but she still likes to BITE.
Recently I realized that there was a way to calm her. She will settle in my arms and I rock her like a baby. She purrs and purrs and then falls asleep. This is all very nice and loving ... until my arms and feet fall asleep. Then I have to put her down and she almost immediately jumps back on my lap. This makes it very hard to get any work done.
The girls chill under Mr. L's lamp.
Luckily, Mr. L has a 200 watt light bulb in his office. Under the light we've placed three cat beds. (We used to have more cats.) The girls often sleep under the warmth of that incandescent bulb. (We aren't going green with that lamp any time soon.) I also have a small oil-filled radiant space heater in my office and I keep a cushion next to it that's big enough to accommodate both girls. Now that the weather has turned, I'm hoping they will use it more and let me work.
It's not a terrible problem to have cats who love me and want to be with me. I just need to convince them that they need to change their timing.
