I’ve had numerous requests for status updates on previous blog posts. No, really. So here, as a public service, is the latest on subjects that have been near and dear to my (dare I say OUR?) heart.
Our Cat, Beeby
A couple of months ago, I told about our cat’s tendency to rain golden showers on new or unfamiliar items in our home, and my fears for the upcoming holiday season. I suggest you look through the archives for November 17 in the right-hand column —–> and read Wanted: Cat Whisperer, or this won’t make much sense. Go ahead. We’ll wait…
OK, fast-forward one month. We were well into the Christmas merrymaking. I did, indeed, leave the skirt off the Christmas tree and put no presents under the tree. Actually, there is much I neglected to do to the tree, as explained in the December 15th post, A Chicken’s Work Is Never Done (Little Red Hen’s Christmas Tale). But you can read that later, because we’re not waiting for you this time. With our strangely nude tree and my constant sniffing of the carpet, I was confident that this problem was all in the past.
Until one night I caught Beeby sidling along the wall BEHIND the Christmas tree and heard a familiar, unwelcome sound. She was peeing on the baseboards under the window. From the crunchy state of the bottom of the sheers, it was obviously not her first time at the rodeo.
Beeby was banished from the living room for the duration of the season. Since that is where her family is to be found most evenings, (and my lap, more importantly), that was a real loss for her. She was just let back in this weekend when the tree and all the attendant decorations magically whisked themselves back into their boxes and down to the basement.
OK, maybe you better read A Chicken’s Work Is Never Done right away.
We remain cautiously optimistic.
Treadmill Resource Allocation
Seems like only yesterday I was doing some preemptive whining about how packed the YMCA was going to be after the first of the year. But it was a whole week ago, on December 29th that I offered Treadmill For One, Garcon!
I’ve now had 3 opportunities to test my predictions and see how close to the mark I came. That was 3 times. Since Jan 1. That would be every day since the New Year started (not counting the 1st when the place was closed). Just making sure everyone understands the dynamic as a point of reference. I’m not bragging or anything. Did I mention EVERY DAY?
It has been bad, but not as bad as I feared. Not a towel to be had Monday or Tuesday, of course, although I did get one on Sunday. (This takes me way, way back to November 12th, practically to the dawn of my blog. Check out my blog post Towels for a gripping expose on the situation vis-à-vis towels at the Y.)
Today was the first day all the treadmills in the back 2 rows were taken. You know what that means. Communal TVs! Not to be tolerated.
I took a leaf from my hubby, Bill’s book. He is the champion at cruising around parking lots until he finds the closest parking spot. It’s a matter of pride with him, and he’s actually elevated the pursuit of close-in parking to something of an art form.
I could almost hear the theme song from Jaws as I slowly, patiently cruised the last 2 rows of treadmills; up and down, front and back, waiting for an open one. I saw it in the (coveted) last row, just as another worker-outer spotted it. Our eyes met. We both sprang into action. It became a game of musical chairs, with the Jaws theme song as the music. Like a live-action, shark-filled party game. If that isn’t too wrong.
You’ll be happy to know that I got the treadmill. Although it was a real shame about the elbow to the eye that other lady took. Her adult granddaughter said she had to go in for glaucoma surgery anyway, so I don’t feel too bad.
In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that on the way home tonight I stopped at the Dollar General. With the treadmill-sweat barely dried upon my brow, I bought an economy-sized bag of gumdrops and ate half of them. Feeling kind of sick. Why do I do these things? I think I need a Peg-Whisperer. Maybe Beeby and I can get a 2 for 1 rate on therapy.
For those not related to me by blood or marriage, you may not be aware of my Campaign, Operation: Dear Oprah. A quick glance at that oh-so-helpful right hand column reveals that this series of posts actually merits its own category.
The upshot of the campaign is to get everyone I have ever met or has ever read my blog, or has ever passed me in the street, to write to Oprah. The goal? To convince her to sponsor my blog on her website, thereby giving me a great job and concomitant wealth and fame (Kudos to my cousin Steve for that last bit. He’s an attorney and, by contract, must be credited whenever I use the phrase “concomitant wealth and fame” under pain of legal prosecution.)
You may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned this in a while. I decided to give the campaign a short rest. Not because of any lack of commitment on my part- far from it. It’s just that Oprah has been all wrapped up in the start of her own network. I think she has been too distracted to give my blog the attention it so richly deserves. In fact, she is probably burdened by more stress than any one woman can be expected to bear. I suspect there’s some stress-related gumdrop-eating going on in her household, as well.
We’ll get right back into the fight soon – I promise!
Required Christmas-time Eating
Let’s revisit December 10th and the day’s blog post, My Sister-In-Law Is Ruining The U.S. Economy. Mainly because it was good for grins, and it got me Freshly Pressed!
You’ll be happy to learn that the economic trend was up, if ever so slightly, for December. Thanks to all loyal Americans who did their part to support our egg nog farmers, as well as all the other, vital Christmas junk food industries.
As for my sister-in-law Lisa, the one who started all the panic? She didn’t get down to a size 2 in time for New Years. But she did what was right for our economy, and she’s still hot! Now and forever!
Thanks for reading my baby-blog. Hope you’ll hang around to listen in 2011, because I still have a lot to say! Like, no end in sight. As in, won’t the woman shut up already???