Okay, let's try this blogging thing again. I'm told that taking a year off is frowned upon by blog followers.
Really, people. Have we no patience?
I know, I know. Back to my corner. I'm going...
Actually, right now I'm supposed to be working on a cross stitch project that had been intended to be a Christmas gift.
Last year's Christmas gift.
Yup! Right on schedule! And I'd be down there stitching right now if it weren't for certain distractions. A whole collection of distractions, to be precise.
I still stitch on my bed with all my stuff scattered across the blanket, every pillow we own behind my back, the television ready to go with forensic and history channel shows that have been recording for weeks on end, and a mug of hot chocolate beside me. This kind of prep work generally takes 30 minutes or so. The problem with this is that 30 minutes is more than enough time to draw the attention of every other living creature in the house.
This is the point where Hunter suddenly realizes that he needs to go potty RIGHT NOW and he can't get his belt off fast enough.
This is the point where Lea suddenly realizes that there is a chart infringing on her sleeping space and must be totally eradicated immediately.
This is the point where Cali suddenly realizes that there is a spot on my project that is sorely lacking in cat hair.
This is the point where Zippy suddenly realizes that I will be sitting in one spot and she has been neglecting her contortionism routines which are only effective when practiced in my lap.
This is the point where Jack suddenly realizes that I will be sitting in one spot with his sister flopped in my lap indefinitely...and the Christmas decorations are now undefended.
Okay, so no stitching for the moment. Oh well, I did promise I'd post on my blog anyway. Upstairs to my computer I go then.
Hunter is now wearing a blanket knotted around his shoulders as a cape and running laps around the furniture while swinging an empty wrapping paper roll at vicious..and apparently agile.. imaginary monsters. The back of my head is simply collateral damage.
What he's actually accomplishing is far more deadly. The dust bunnies are being disturbed and have begun to emerge from their cavernous lairs of doom. Three or four more laps and I suspect they're going to attack en masse like a rabid herd of tribbles.
Lea is now standing guard on the foot of my bed looking thoroughly pleased with herself after having obviously intimidated the invading cross stitch chart so badly it retreated back into it's protective plastic shell. But she's watching it. It has to come out to breathe sometime. And she'll be waiting...
Cali is now sprawled across my lap, desk, arm, and keyboard. Yes, she's one of those cats that has the uncanny ability to lay down and spread out to fill whatever space she's in, especially if such spreading out inconveniences her person and ensures she remains at the forefront of her person's thoughts. Even if said thoughts involve calico fur lined mittens and matching slippers.
Zippy is now draped across my chest and over my shoulder with her back legs dangling across Cali's back end. She is perfecting her "boneless" look while somehow managing to defy gravity.
Jack is now sitting at attention next to my computer chair with eyes the size of golf balls, waiting for the perfect moment to make his presence known to everyone...
...by leaping up into the middle of my lap to attack one or the other of the twitching tails that keep smacking me in the face.
Sooner or later, life insurance companies are going to add "Cat Owner" to their list of pre-existing conditions and high risk clients.