9 Lives

We had several cats growing up, none of whom ever seemed to stay very long. Our first cat, Caru, a beautiful quiet and affectionate orange and white cat, disappeared on a camping trip when I was 7 years old. I was heartbroken. Her replacement, Jerry, was a huge, long-haired slightly cranky black and white cat. Three or four years later, he, too, vanished one day and did not return.

For several years after that, we had a revolving door of cats named Kitty. Black Kitty I hung around for a bit, then took off. Rumor had it she'd gone to Hollywood to purse an acting career. A tortoise-shell kitten found in the church parking lot lasted 3 days, before she too left. Her "allergies", she explained. She loved us, but was allergic to people. That and the dust in our house aggravated her sinuses. Black Kitty II we got from the Egg Lady, who lived on a farm near Enderby. Another beautiful cat, she had a silky black coat and was very friendly. She met her untimely demise after she walked through my brother's legs, just as he was swinging a baseball bat. Again, we lost one we loved far too soon. Our final cat, Black Kitty III, was also from a farm. She liked to be stroked but not held, curled up to sleep with both of our dogs when it was cold, and stayed with us for about 10 years. Then, she too, disappeared one day, suspiciously soon after our neighbor threatened to kill her. Perhaps she was scared off, or perhaps - well, let's just hope she too made it big in Hollywood.

I don't know why we had such bad luck with cats. They were well-loved and well-taken care of. I guess some people are cat people and some people are not.

The Cat Did Not Come Back

My cat went missing last Wednesday morning. She was an indoor and outdoor cat - going out all night (her choice) and then coming in the house in the morning and sleeping all day. Her name was Archie and she was almost wild when I got her 5 years ago. I had recently separated from a man that was allergic to cats and getting her was my way of saying, "ha, look what I can do as a single woman. I can get a cat!" I actually got 2 cats - one for each of my kids - but the boy cat went missing shortly after we got him - I like to think he is mousing in the orchard somewhere.

Archie was my younger son's cat and we called my son "The Cat Whisperer" because he seemed to be the only one she liked. She was not a very friendly cat for the first few years, which I attributed to her being wild and wondering why the heck these humans wanted to touch her so much. Also, when she was just little, she was laying behind my car and I ran over her tail. So maybe she resented me for her perpetual crooked tail. But in the last year she had become quite affectionate, allowing us to hold her for short periods, and even jumping up on your lap to sit with you.

When she didn't come in last Wednesday, I was concerned, but also just thought she might be stuck up a tree. She was fairly routine and always came in the house each morning to go sleep on my son's bed. When she still hadn't come back Thursday morning I made some "Lost" posters and put them up in the neighbourhood, hoping someone had just accidentally locked her in their garage.

Friday morning a woman called me to describe in great detail how she had found my cat - dead. Poor Archie. I am so sorry, kittie, I shouldn't have let you go out and about so close to a busy road. I always held firm that cats weren't made to live indoors using a litter box, and I know I said something dumb once that I would rather my cat "die happy" and be allowed outside than be a cat who looked wistfully out the window. I regret that now. Because now I have to tell my 10-year-old where his cat is.

And that sucks.

FIRST!!!

What the heck is with these "first" people? Have you seen them? They are everywhere. I read 2 or 3 blogs every morning and quite often I will read the comments that readers have left for the blogger.

"FIRST!" they write, presumably because they are so excited to be the first to comment. There must be a monetary reward for doing this, something that I am too naive to know about, because otherwise why would people do this? Does it make their day to write such a thing? Are they twelve years old?

Even more amusing is when a commenter writes "FIRST!", but they are actually the fourth or fifth to comment because they didn't push "Submit" fast enough.

Someone please explain this phenomena to me.

Who We Aren't

Recently the writers of this blog attended a “reunion of sorts”, to get to know each other again as adults. 6 of us, all friends from elementary school all the way through high school, spent the weekend in Vancouver, BC participating in all sorts of marvelous activities, none of which included bad Karaoke, eating dinner in a hall with dead animals on the wall, or drinking red wine out of a box. All are liable to happen at our “real” organized grad reunion.

For the masses reading this blog it might behoove you to know that this flourishing talent comes to you from three people who have been friends for nigh thirty years. And no, we are not aged or showing evidence of advanced erosion. We are not even close to forty yet – because 3 years away from forty is NOT even close.

After emailing back and forth on the details of the Vancouver reunion and laughing at our own hilarity, we decided we were geniuses and needed to display our talents to the Land of the Internet. It is a strange land to travel. What to say, what to write, who will care? What if we get dooced? Should we reveal our true identities?

The last question has kept me up too many nights and I decided we must tell the world who we are. Only then can we be free. This photo is from our recent reunion. Please be careful who you share it with, Internet.

Finding value in these hard times

With a recession looming over us, and food and gas prices spiralling ever upwards, stretching your dollar is once again fashionable. Today, we look at 3 outstanding deals that will help you tame the family budget.

The first comes to us courtesy of Lowe's Home Improvement, which I noticed is now offering free next-day delivery, free haul away and (unbelievable!) free hook-up on most major appliance purchases. Free delivery! ("Oooh, that is good," I said to myself.) Free haul away! ("Good-bye, ugly, noisy almond dishwasher - I will not be forced to lug you into the back of my small hatchback after all") Free hook-up! 

Well, free hook-up. They are now practically paying me for the appliance. (OK, for those of you who think that means casual sex with a stranger, you are both wrong and reading the wrong blog.) Then I noticed the fine print: Free hook-up excludes dishwashers, over-the-range microwaves, gas appliances, cooktops, wall ovens and range hoods. Ooohhhh, I get it. So "hook-up" means "plug-in". Well, who among us hasn't be stumped by what to do with the funny 3 pronged plug coming out of the refrigerator?

The second amazing deal was advertised on TV, the source of most reputable products these days, and the only place where you purchase Suzanne Somers jewellery. I speak, of course, of Scar-Zone, a scar-reducing cream that is now formulated with green tea. There's no mention of what the green tea does; just that it's formulated with green tea. Yes, good-bye to the days where I would wash my pennies down the drain by buying a scar cream and green tea separately. Good-bye messy tea bags and wasted electricity boiling water; hello savings steeped in value. Starting tomorrow I will scar-reduce, hydrate and anti-oxidate all in a simple twice-a-day application.

The last product offers true functionality, an attribute that has been lost in so many of today's products. It's the perfect gift for Mom, Dad, or really almost anyone with an iPod and irritable bowel syndrome. It is, as you have guessed by now, the iPod Stereo Dock and Toilet Paper Holder. I won't bother commenting on it, as most of you have probably already left this page and rushed to Amazon to get your own, but for those of you that haven't (and that can only be because you already own one), I remind you that the Karaoke Microphone is also available. 

Remember, saving is always style.

All a-clutter

The hoarding conversation reminds me of that woman on Oprah, whose house was so full of crap that it ended up filling a 10,000-square-foot warehouse. It seems so shocking and unbelievable, but then the experts on the show made all these comments about how any kind of clutter in your house is bad. They said that we all have to set limits - one junk drawer, one shelf, one section in the garage. Are we all just 10 egg cups away from filling three semi-trailers?

My mother is continually searching for her next big career and a few months ago she decided she was going to become a Feng Shui expert. I guess to be a Feng Shui expert you only have to read 2 books. Part of the Feng Shui philosophy is that you must free your home from all the clutter and because my mom has a lot of stuff, from all the garage sales and antique stores within a 50 mile radius - she purged a lot of junk. Being a hater of knickknacks I was all excited to see my parent's home emptying of all the unnecessary objects, but my glee was very short-lived. She soon started filling up the house with all things Feng Shui. Dragons, frogs, buddhas, and a water fountain that makes me have to pee, came into the home. I guess cluttering your house with mystical objects doesn't count in Feng Shui land - even if you have a heritage home where the decor fared much better with junky antiques.

People have been asking her to come to their homes and "Feng Shui" them. She tells me that these people's lives have improved, their wealth has increased, and their sex lives have been enriched. To totally prove how much it works my mom cleaned out her guest room, which, according to the Feng Shui handbook, was her "relationship" room.

Now my dad puts his own paper in the recycling bin.