Alabama Skankycat's Journal

Alabama Skankycat's Journal

Yesterday through the fluke of a fortunate 'google' I found a new book group. Ah the joy of fellow readers. I greedily read as many previous posts as I could, then brazeningly posted a few responses on my own.

This morning I eagerly went back to the group - I'm in with a cold so this passes for major excitement - and read more posts. And began to notice just how critical and grumpy many of the posters are. Are we readers confusing mindless criticism and naysaying with literary criticism? Do we all use our reading expertise to cudgel others into recognizing our intellectual superiority? Just why does reading bring out the prick in people?

Oh Lord, please don't let me grow up to be that like. Let me read for joy. Let me just toss out the bad ones and luxuriate in the good ones. And dear Lord, please help me not use my intellect [what there is of it] to bludgeon anyone. anytime. for any reason. unless that anyone happens to be related to my spouse. amen.

The Joys of Kitty Exercise or Oxymorons Unlimited

It's a beautiful if cold late January day. So I started my morning at WalMart - ah the ambience. Still, it's a mini hike with rewards for the persistent. We now have Food! While I trod the asiles, ShortyCat slumbered on the guest bed snuggled up next to the pillows.

I came home, put away my finds, and made lunch for Ed. While we ate ciabatta rolls and cheese, SCat dreamed his kitty dreams.

I cleaned the kitchen and put eggplant on to roast, then Freddie and I hit the street - dog walk time. Meanwhile SCat stretched and turned over [one assumes].

I left Fred and Peachcat to sleep in the warm sun of the den, checked on the comatose S and went to the Y to lift weights [and I use the term loosely here]. S dreamed on.

I came home panting only to find all three guys still prone. And then it hit me. Who's in better physical condition? Shorty or me? right.

Oh well, time to tackle the eggplant and make the pizza dough.

Perhaps the sound of a can of tuna opening will rouse the sleeping prince. Perhaps not.

Peachcat in August

PeachCat. Rescued from the pound. Adopted because he was the right color. He came to us as a skinny little kitten who tore through the house, up the walls, and over the dog. Somewhere along the way he turned into a complacent middle-aged gentleman cat.

When I make him truly angry he retaliates by going outside and lying under the birdfeeder. As long as he pouts, no one eats.