Guess Who's Back?

Yes, I realize it's been almost three weeks since I posted and it's been five months since I actually went to *gasp* work, but for once this post is not about me. 

The real reason I asked you here today is to let you know that those wild and crazy people at Humor Bloggers dot com are back!

Let the party begin!

Echoes of the Past: A Magpie Tale

The symphony is over.  Now, for the walk home.  The rain has stopped and a haze begins to rise from the brick walkway.  Cloaked in the miasma of time, she drifts into thought.

Years ago as a newlywed, she walked down this same path with her husband toward their pied-a-terre near the symphony hall.  Back then, secure on the arm of her husband, she delighted in being cloaked in the mist.  It created a special world just for them.  The echoes of the other theater goers' footsteps faded into the background as they created their own magical space, filled with joy and contentment. 

Tonight the footsteps once again fade away, but not because of the security of being loved.  Most symphony patrons have drifted toward the parking ramp that was built next to the grand theater.  She, alone, walks in the opposite direction toward the faded glory of her apartment building.  Her footsteps on the deteriorating bricks of the walkway echo in the mist to remind her she is alone.  Harry has been gone these twenty years but she is still there, walking the same path.  It's moments like these that she feels him still with her. 

A second set of footsteps begins to echo in the darkness.  For a moment she thinks it might be Harry.  But no, that can't be.  The neighborhood's not what it used to be and her heart begins to race as the footsteps get closer.  Her fingers tighten on the sequined bag that holds her opera glasses and she begins to walk faster.  The sound bounces off the walls of the tall buildings around her, making it impossible to discern the direction of the footsteps.  As her pace quickens, so does the stranger's.  Whoever it might be is gaining on her.

A man emerges from the darkness and her heart skips a beat.  But it's only the aged doorman, stepping out from the apartment building to usher her in from the mist.  He's been watching for her to be sure she gets home safely.  His kindly smile brings her back to her present reality... in which she is alone with her memories.

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Willow over at Life at Willow Manor  has been providing inspiration for bloggers with her photo prompts on a site called Magpie Tales.  Be sure to check out the other fabulous writers participating in Magpie Tales this holiday week.  You'll be glad you did! 

Step Right Up, Chelle!

We have a winner!  

There were so many great names suggested for my new "White Elephant Kitty" from Melody that I had to take a week off and go to Florida to get Meowyn's input on the "name the kitty" entries and complete my deliberations.  In the end, the one that made us both guffaw was Mrs. Finkle-Bosom, submitted by Chelle from Coffee and Zombie Movies.

Mrs. Finkle-Bosom enjoys her new digs.

So, Chelle, step right up and collect your prize!  You're the winner of the my official BadAss Blogger award (brought out of retirement just for you) and a White Elephant gift of your very own (provided you trust me enough to send me your contact info.) 

Stay tuned for our new feature, "Mrs. Finkle-Bosom Says...", coming soon to How To Become A Cat Lady Without The Cats.

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's... a White Elephant?

Margaret over at NGIP suggested having a White Elephant Party to pass along some of those holiday gifts that are, well, white elephants.  Always up for a party, and having a house full of white elephants, I decided to play along.  I let Margaret know I'd be more than happy to send along some of my excess "treasure" to some lucky recipient.

Then one day last week a box arrived on my doorstep.  I was positively giddy with excitement!   Carefully pulling off the tape and opening the box, I was amazed at what I found...

Could it be?  A true rarity in the life of a Cat Lady Without Cats.  It appears that I have a new friend, Melody from Cooking Schmooking, who thinks I really do need a cat!

Danger, Will Robinson! 

Wait... don't panic!  It's only a pretend cat.  Not to worry!

So, thanks to Melody, I have become a cat lady... with a three-dimentional cat.  (Hope the kitty silhouettes don't get their noses out of joint over this.)  Sure beats an actual white elephant!  What should I name her?  (I figure it's a she since it has a pink nose.)  Please send along suggestions for the naming of my new companion.  I'll even send a white elephant prize to the person who provides the best name! 

Now, I wonder what mischief this little kitty will get into next... stay tuned!

Thanks, Melody!

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If you want to know what I unloaded gave to the lucky recipient of my largess, you'll have to visit my new friend, Sparkle Cat. (Won't she be surprised when the moving van full of the rest of my crap pulls up at her house next week!) 

"You Could Do ANYTHING In That Hat!"

Although I've been basically home-bound for the past three months while my broken leg mends, I haven't been totally unproductive.  In order to keep my hands busy with something other than shoveling food into my mouth as I relax in my recliner, I decided to break out the old knitting needles.  Knitting is especially satisfying in the winter months when that afghan you are working on keeps your legs warm as you work.  (Note:  It also makes you look even more of an invalid.)

Most of the stuff I do is pretty mindless, requiring very few brain cells.  Knit, purl, knit, purl, etc., etc., until you run out of yarn.  However, my sister threw down the knitting gauntlet, which I picked up with only a tad bit of fear and trepidation.  Sending me a picture of a hat my niece, Ilsa, was coveting, I pondered how to create such a masterpiece of fiber.  Without any instructions on how to proceed, (other than the fact that Ilsa's head measures 21 inches,) I had my chauffeur take me to the yarn store to search for something that might work. 

Even though I had to rip it out five times before I got the gauge and shape corrected to my satisfaction, I completed the project and actually got it mailed it in time for the recent holiday celebrations.  (A major miracle as I'm not generally known for sending gifts, let alone sending them on time.)  And, for once, I even won the "Best Aunt" honors for my efforts.

Since then, Ilsa has gotten many compliments comments on the hat.  Some guy even went up to her in the Tampa airport and told her,  

"That's a great hat!  You could do anything in that hat!"  

I wonder what he meant by that?  And I bet you're wondering what the hell kind of hat would elicit that response.  Well, wonder no longer...

"Ja, jag är svensk, varför frågar du?"

So, the question remains... What would you do in that hat?

That Was the Year that Sucked

That was the year that sucked,

It's over, let it go!

We're pleased to write it off,

But not as pleased as a CatLady we know!

And what a year it was....

January:  Otin outs CatLadyLarew and I am banned by NetNanny, which is actually a good thing in my opinion.

February:  My dog gets a valentine and I don't.

March:  I'm attacked by a one-eyed cat.

April: The month in which I'm abducted by aliens.

May:  Good month... nothing bad happens.

June:  We host my mother's funeral.

July:  We bid adieu to Hickory the Wonder Dog.

August:  Another good month... although Magpie Tales leave us Dazed and Confused. 

September:  I lose my blogging mojo.

October:  I discover it's not safe to go out when I break my leg.

November: I get grossed out by a delightful x-ray view of my mangled leg and a favorite aunt dies.

December: Squirrels invade my attic and Vlad's grandfather (of the eyeball in the refrigerator) dies on New Years Eve.

And so, as the sun sets slowly in the west, we say goodbye to 2010 and send out best wishes to all for a happier and healthier New Year in 2011.

A Merry Larew Christmas!

Here I am on Christmas morning, drinking coffee and having cookies for breakfast while Vlad the Wonder Boy sleeps.  He's obviously still on college time.  I expect to see the whites of his eyes sometime around 2 p.m.  But I'm not complaining... after all, he's the one who went out into the wilderness and bagged us a Christmas tree on Sunday.

I went along for the ride and schlepped through the fields on my crutches just out of general principle.

Then began the whole process of getting the tree back to the car and getting it home.  We brought it into the house and got it set up in the stand without incident. (i.e. nobody broke any more limbs... on either the tree or ourselves.) 

We didn't get around to untying it, so it stood at attention in bondage for a few more days in our living room.

I finally released it from its bonds on Wednesday, but since the decorations are in the basement and I can't yet manage the basement stairs, it remains undecorated.  But we kinda like it that way.  We can just say we were going for that "natural" look this year... going green and all.

My sister, Meowyn, didn't even get that far... although her tree has a bit of flair, too....

We Larew girls know how to do Christmas up right!
(We are so getting underwear from Santa again this year.)

Each Night A Child Is Born: Mapgpie #45

I'm not a particularly religious person in the traditional sense.  So when it comes to Christmas, I celebrate the wonder of the child in all of us.  Willow's Magpie prompt this week brings to mind a poem by Unitarian minister and religious educator, Sophia Lyon Fahs.   What a wonderful way to honor children everywhere.

For so the children come
And so they have been coming.
Always in the same way they come—
Born of the seed of man and woman.
No angels herald their beginnings
No prophets predict their future courses
No wise men see a star to show
where the babe is that will save humankind
Yet each night a child is born is a holy night.
Fathers and mothers—sitting beside their children’s cribs—
feel glory in the sight of a new life beginning.
They ask where and how will the new life end—will it never end
Each night a child is born is a holy night—a time for singing
A time for wondering, a time for worshiping.
~Sophia Lyon Fahs

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Willow over at Life at Willow Manor  has been providing inspiration for bloggers with her photo prompts on a site called Magpie Tales.  Be sure to check out the other fabulous writers participating in Magpie Tales this holiday week.  You'll be glad you did! 

Two Years in the Making

Today marks the second anniversary of "How to Become a Cat Lady... Without the Cats."  Break out the party hats and noise makers!

Now, 239 posts and 239 followers later, how is the Cat Lady faring? Well, for one thing... my house is no less cluttered than it was two years ago.  Nor is my mind.  No big surprise there, though.  And there are still no cats in my house. 

When I started this enterprise, I was hoping to record some of my stories for family and friends.  What I didn't expect was to increase my circle of family and friends so significantly through the blog.  Now I have a network of people to check in with every day, who keep me entertained and amused.  When they're not providing levity, they provide ideas for contemplation, books to read, music to listen to, slumber parties and fancy balls to attend, as well as bourbon balls to eat.  Lively banter and inappropriate language bring giggles and guffaws... more than once causing me to choke or spew liquids out my nose.  It's just like hanging out with a whole mess of brothers and sisters. 

These people live anywhere from a half mile away to half way around the world.  Talk about expanding your horizons!  There are some that I check in with only occasionally and some that I hear from almost daily.  You know who you are!  (My blog roll will give you an idea of how many there are.)  And it's reassuring to receive an email from someone, inquiring after my health if I haven't posted in awhile. 

So thanks to you all!  My life is so much richer because of you!

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P.S.  For a good time, join the best circle of blogger friends out there... Tribal Blogs!  (That's where all the cool kids hang out.)

www.tribalblogs.net

And while you're at it, stop by and wish Michael at Too Many Mornings a Happy Birthday!  He's having a party at his place today!

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

I swear I heard the pitter patter of little feet on my rooftop last night.  But isn't it a little too soon for Santa?  What could it be that woke me up in the middle of the night? 

At first I thought I was dreaming, but once I was fully awake I realized that there really was a sound coming through my ceiling!  Except that it actually sounded a little more like sawing wood.  Maybe I was still asleep after all.

Nope.  There it was again.  This time it sounded a little more like scampering.  Then a scraping noise.  Maybe Santa was trying to shovel some of the snow off my roof to deliver my well deserved gifts?

No... definitely sawing.  Guess I should have purchased a home with a real fireplace instead of a "decorative" one.  Then Santa wouldn't have to saw through the roof to get all those packages to me.

Wait a minute... I do recognize that sound.  Crap!  I've done this all before.* It's not Santa!  It's an evil squirrel come to chew through my electrical wires and burn my house down!

Well, now that we've figured that one out, I guess I'll just drift off peacefully back to sleep.... no worries...

Yeah... and a Merry Freakin' Christmas to you, too! 

*See The Mating Habits of Squirrels.