Yep, that's right. The Earth has finally reached its expiration date. We're all gonna wake up tomorrow just long enough to have everything implode around us.
On a good note, I won't have to do any laundry. Or dishes. Or take out the trash.
Am I the only one who hears about these "it's all over now!" dates and then when we're right on the cusp of what should be elaborate and frightening and awe-inspiring events, it's all just kinda... "That's it? Really? Sheesh, and after I changed into clean underwear and everything."
I keep seeing all these shows about the legends of the end of the world, and the origins of the Mayans, and science behind their calendars, and how they worked out their cycles. And every single show they always end with the question of "Why did the calendar stop on that date?"
I figure the guy doing the carving just got distracted. I'm betting it was by kids. Or cats. Or maybe his wife finally said "You've been doing that long enough. Quit stalling and get your butt down here and take out the trash already!"
....just a guess.
I don't have a whole lot to babble about so far today (in case it wasn't already obvious). The girls are currently playing a computer game trying to convince a virtual dog that he really doesn't look like a complete freak in the getup they're creating for him. Given that the dog is being dressed up in clothes best described as a cross between a peacock and one of those 1960s psychadelic velvet posters, I'm gonna side with the computerized mutt.
Hunter has been watching Avenger movies all morning and is now down for a nap. I'm hoping for sleep soon, but I can still hear him acting out each of the heroes in what I can only guess he thinks is quiet whispering. Can I just point out that Hulk doesn't smash anything quietly?
The cats have been remarkably well-behaved so far. At least the indoor cats have been. I had to go break up a catfight in the backyard earlier though. There's a big gray tomcat that likes to try to move into our yard in hopes of claiming Pandora (my muted tortoiseshell) for himself. The resident tomcat we have, solid black Shadow, invariably fends him off in the same manner each and every time.
...He races to the tip top branches of a skinny little dogwood tree that looks like a squirrel could snap its limbs and screams his fool head off until one of us stomps outside and chases off the gray who is way too big and stocky to risk chasing Shadow up there.
Once big bad gray has panicked and nearly brained himself on each of the chain link fences between that tree and the other end of the neighborhood, Shadow wraps himself around each branch like he's hugging a teddy bear as he literally shimmies down the tree. Once he manages to make it to the ground he shakes himself and stalks away as if he single-handedly faced down Cujo.
Meanwhile, Pandora sits on the top of the BBQ grill watching the two of them with an expression that just screams out, "You two are idiots." Which makes sense, honestly, since she's not remotely interested in either of them. After Pandora brought us her first litter of kittens (born April 9th), we let her inside enough to get used to us. Eventually I was able to cage her and get her spayed and vaccinated before turning her loose again. It took her just over a week to forgive me enough to let me feed her again. Trying to catch her next summer for her annual rabies shot should be a trip...
Hrmm..... I may actually get some stitching done today. The girls seem content. The Hulk in the other room has begun slurring with sleep. The two big cats are curled up and snoring. And the two kittens are ...
... wait. Why is Jack dragging my tree skirt down the hallway?
Where is Zippy?
Did my Christmas tree just fall over????