Can I Interest You in a Little Fine Dining or at Least the Furniture to Do So?

Remember back in May when I informed you I lost my dining room set when B took my offhand comment super seriously? Well, just as I thought we would never have a place to store our once a year dishes and platters, it was B to the rescue once again.

As this set is so amazing, I have almost forgiven B for forcing me to relocate things into our way too small kitchen.  Almost.  This is Jacobian furniture which, from what I understand from GTS*, is the form furniture took during the Renaissance in England. Yes, our furniture is THAT old. Or based on ideas that old. Whatever.

This picture doesn't do the size justice, but B informed me that he didn't want to take a straight
on picture because then he would be in it through the mirror. So camera shy, that one.

This is our buffet. B may or may not have broke it immediately upon trying to move it.
It has super heavy drawers and is awesome.

This is the china cabinet.  It is also awesome and now holds all of our glasses.  It also is a haven for cats trying to escape dogs.  

You can see the carved detail in the chair and buffet. This is my favorite shot.
Good job B!

Closer shot of the cabinet.

Up close to the buffet.

This set is ever way huger than it looks because there is a leaf. And by a leaf I mean the top of the table lifts up and goes between two extenders. The whole top of the table is a leaf. One day I am going to make B do that again and put all of the chairs we got with it to show you just how regal this set really looks.

I actually like the table with all 6 chairs around it, but it makes it kind of crowded and one chair may or may not be in the midst of repair as well.  

We got this set for a very reasonable price.  Thereafter, my friend whom I stole the trash chair from got a very similar site at an even better price. I might hate her now. The jury is still out on that one.

Also, you will notice the glass on top of every piece. The set did not come like that. B brilliantly stole the idea from our neighbor. With three cats with three sets of back claws and the never ending desire to launch off of our furniture with said claws, the furniture is grateful for B's idea, as am I.

It's the little things.

   




*Google That Shit, or in this case, Googling That Shit

Meet Bert!

Meet Bert!  You will remember him from the Fourth of July post where I coyly, or not so much, slid his picture in.

Bert is new to the pack. I won't say he is replacing Chester because no one could replace Chester.  However, he is filling a void that has been there since Chester has been gone.

B stumbled upon Bert's picture on Facebook.  All that we could see was his little panda face.  That was enough to capture B's heart. He went off to meet Bert.  

Bert was born on the street and living under a porch.  Some nice people trapped him and another nice woman kept him in her bathroom for a week trying to get him to acclimate to living in a house and to people in general.  We give mad props to her for that week because even though he came to us hissing, he quickly warmed up and we think it is because she spent so much time with him.

Not much is known about Bert after these few weeks. He has stopped hissing at us and reserves that usually for the dogs (who he swiped and spit at right away a la Chester style and now they fear all 3 lbs of him), or for B when he startles him out of sleep. To be honest, sometimes I feel like hissing at B when he wakes me, but that is another story.

Bert likes eating. The face above is what he looks like after he eats or, apparently, when he wants to eat B for taking too many pictures.

Most unique feature about Bert is that he only has black on his face, the back of his left paw and all up and down his back. Doesn't he look like someone dipped him in some paint?

Bert has brought another dynamic to the house. Brad is happy to have a friend. Even Mooch seems calmer like maybe he doesn't think that we are out to rid the place of all cats.  The dogs are intrigued, but scared.

I think Chester is smiling down and, perhaps, proud that his spirit lives on in Bert.






*Bert was named after the street he was found on, Liberty.

Four for the Fourth for You

The girls and boys wanted to show you their patriotic side this Fourth of July. This post is so late because it took me that long to get their d@$& pictures!

Mooch is last because he was the hardest. He had no less than 12 takes.  I envisioned the cats would sit nicely and stare at the camera. Clearly, I was delusional.

If you are wondering who that cat in the middle is, stay tuned.

For now, I sign off to either the sound of fireworks or gun shots. At this point I am unsure.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

 

Wordless Wednesday: Is That a Cat on Your Back?

Just Another Night Where Someone Loses An Eye But No One Does Anything About It

Last night around 11 or so, I came downstairs to tell B a few things:

B: What's up?

Me: I have a list of things I have to say...

B: Are they about Black Swan?

Me: We could start there. That movie was stupid. Stupid! Maybe it didn't help that I had an idea of what was happening the whole time, even though I still don't know what happened.  Or that I knew the ending. But it was STUPID! I just wasted one hour and 48  minutes of my life when I could have been watching my DVR.

Me: Speaking of DVR, Franklin & Bash is FUNNY.

B: You watch Franklin & Bash?

Me: YES! And it is FUNNY.  Really, how could you go wrong with the comedic timing of Breckin Meyer and John Paul Gosselar.

B: Mark-Paul

Me: What?

B: His name is Mark-Paul not John Paul.

Me: John Paul sounds more French.

B: He is not French.

Me: Yes, he is. I looked it up. French Canadian.*

B: You looked him up and you still don't know his name?

Me: Whatever? Next up. My butt hurts like I walked many miles in it but really it is just from sitting on my ass. I don't know if that is sad or awesome so I am going with awesome.

Me: Also, I had a dream last night that Chester lost an eyeball. He scooted into the room holding it out to me. I alternated between screaming AHHHHHHHHH and saying "it will be okay Chester."  Guess who didn't come to help me although he was in the next room? That's right! You!  OUR CAT HAD NO EYEBALL. NO EYEBALL!!!

B:  Going to bed?

Me: Yep.

B: Night.

Me: Night.

/scene

*Actually he is not French or Canadian or even French Canadian. He was born to a Dutch born father and an Indonesian born mother. What up with the hypenated French sounding name parents? Way to confuse someone who is only half paying attention.**

**Yes, I had to go look that up. Again!

The Art of Laboring, Rescuing and Discovering

Well, it is Labor Day. The day you celebrate all of the hard work and labor everyone does by not working.  Wait. Isn't that every holiday?  We are certainly practicing holiday living over here.  Some more so than others.  This is what I came downstairs to find:

Why, yes, that IS every single animal we own lying on B.  B seems pretty happy about it right?  Care to take a closer look?

Chester wants to help him play video games.

Jersey cannot really fit on B but she does a damn good job of taking up most of the rest of the couch!

And see that one right there? The cute little fuzz ball all curled up under B's arm?  Also known as Brad?  Yes, he ESCAPED AGAIN THE OTHER NIGHT.  Escaped. Again.  Is escape the right word when he basically walked through an open door?  Maybe not.  However, B found all three of the cats outside and managed to get them all (Chester ran right inside without any real prodding, Mooch was found under the car), except for B who made a mad leap on to a fence which he then used as his own vaulting mat to sail off into the front yard and disappear before B got there.  

Why, yes, B was not thrilled to be awakened at 3:30 a.m. that night, two hours before he awakes for work, to hear my flying down the stairs screaming "I WILL SAVE YOU BRAD!!!".  What can I say? I heard a major streetcat fight and my little B was not going to get hurt.  

Never did find the cat fight. Or a flashlight for that matter.  Brad, however, was sitting on the steps when B awoke in the morning.  Is there such a thing as a cat crate? We need a cat crate for that one.

A family reunited.

In other news, B was late coming home from work today because he found a gun in the street. Yes, a GUN just lying in the STREET.  A gun with a full clip.  We are so gangsta' around here that we use words like "clip."  So he dutifully took it to the police station who asked him why he didn't call 911.  Can you imagine that call?

B: Yes, I would like to report a gun in the street.
Police: Is anyone holding it?
B: No, it is just lying there.
Police: Is anyone dead.
B: Not that I can see.
Police: Well, just bring that shit in.

Happy Labor Day everyone! May your animals remain prisoners and may your streets remain free from guns!

UPDATE: For those inquiring minds, B would like to report he is not a dumbass. He picked up the gun with his sweatshirt and the clip with his hat. No fingerprints.

Cheese Should Not Pretend to Be a Bug and a Bug Should Not Pretend to Be a Wet Noodle

You know I have issues with bugs, right? At least you know I have issues with centipedes. Although, really, who doesn't? Are there any big centipede lovers out there? I didn't think so. I am pretty sure no one cried foul when the game Centipede came out. In fact, it was probably a smashing hit because everyone wants to blow those little buggers to bits.  But, I digress.

I lived on my own quite some time before I met B so I was forced to be the big bug killer, or ignorer, as the case may be. I thought I was tough.  Never did kill spiders though because I figured they would do their job and kill the rest of the bugs.  Hopefully I didn't swallow any of them in the process.

In any event, a while ago I think I slept with a centipede.  The thought of it makes my skin crawl this many months later.  I was all set for bed, glasses off, bed ready to jump in when I see a dark spot on the ceiling.  Mistake #1 - I go to check it out. Mistake #2 - I get REALLY close because I cannot see well without the glasses. It was a frickin' centipede. I ran out of our bedroom screaming like a girl imitating a girl screaming.  B was convinced that he needed to kill it, but it couldn't be found. I had no choice but to go to bed with pillows covering my ears, my mouth sealed shut and praying that it didn't like nostrils.

Shudder.

So now that I am spoiled with a boy, a dog and three killer cats, bugs freak me the hell out.  I don't want to kill them. I want to run screaming and have someone else step in. This doesn't always work out for me, but a lot of times it does.  And, sometimes, like yesterday, there is not even a bug involved.  I was going downstairs with a mostly empty bowl of pasta and went to turn off the light when I felt something graze my skin:

Me: AHHHHHHHHHH

B: WHAT?

Me: Never mind. It was a piece of cheese.

Me; I thought it was a bug.

B: OH. MY. GOD.  You are insane.

B: Did you think the cats were going to run up here and save you?

With no cats in sight, apparently not.

Fast forward to this morning. Jersey and I came in from outside and I saw Brad eating something in the dining room. I picked it up, looking like a small wet macaroni noodle and was carrying it to the kitchen garbage, saying along the way:

Me: You eat the strangest things Brad.

Me: Where do you find noodles?

And then I poked it. And then it turned over. And then it was a very wet, but very alive BUG IN MY HAND THAT LOOKED LIKE A CENTIPEDE BUT WASN'T.

The only appropriate response was:

Me: AHHHHHHHHHH

And I screamed. And I jumped. And Jersey came over to help me but she didn't know what the problem was. Then she thought it was playtime. Then I couldn't find the bug. Brad was still in the dining room staring intently at the floor where the bug used to be hoping it would materialize.  And I kept shaking my hand while looking for the bug because I COULD STILL FEEL IT.  Finally, I found it and threw it in the trash still alive.

I hope it isn't creating an army in there.

Even Mortal Enemies Can Find Common Ground. Kind of.

Chester and Jersey are mortal enemies.  Not just because they are cat and dog, but because that is how Chester staged their relationship. Unlike Mooch who just ignored her, or Brad who actively sought to play with her, Chester decided that Jersey was a threat and he was going to quash that threat immediately.  So he greeted her with a swift paw to the head and the stage was set.

Jersey is still scared of Chester despite the fact that she outweighs him by at least double.  If he lunges at her, she runs.  If he swipes at her she whimpers.  Although she is getting a bit braver in her attempts to chase him when he isn't looking, she still knows who is boss.

Usually they are nowhere near each other, but occasionally you will find them nearby with Chester keeping a watchful eye on Jersey.

They just happened to be on the same chair in my office above. I am not even sure Chester realized it at that moment. They pretend to ignore each other (or watch TV- I guess Jersey rules the remote):

You can see, though, that Chester has his paw ready to swipe.  And then he looks at Jersey like "how DARE she":

Meanwhile, Jersey doesn't seem to even notice but just goes right to sleep:

She also takes some time out to ham it up for the photographer:

How could Chester swipe at that face?

Lil B's Version of a Window Seat Has a Whole New Meaning

Brad takes window seats to a whole new level. Yes, that is the shadow of my laptop in the window. We were scared if we went to get the camera, he would move. These photos are courtesy of Photo Booth which required us to stand in acrobatic poses in order to manage not to get our faces in there as well.

A perfect way to spend a hot, muggy June day. Lil' B is a genius!

I Have Started a New and Desperately Needed Charity: Clothes for Cats

To start off this important endeavor, I donated one of my favorite suits that was just hanging around waiting to be dry cleaned to Mooch:

And then a basket full of clean laundry to Chester:

They looked like they needed it.

B's Words of Wisdom: Being a Tiger isn't Worth Losing a Cat

All of the talk recently about Tiger Woods and his many women, coupled with his apology "press conference" where he robotically told everyone he is sorry and will do better or whatever, has prompted some interesting conversations around these parts. Mostly from B.

The first pronouncement had to do with the quality of the women Tiger chose. I tend to agree. Did you notice they got worse in the looks department with every new one?

Then came the pronouncement that B's job is not worth losing over those women. Suffice it to say, B isn't that crazy about his job.

Finally, however, was the creme de la creme of comments. That is when B said:

"I wouldn't even risk losing my relationship with Brad for those women."

And he said that as if his relationship with Brad meant so little. Really, B? I think you two are closer than you would like everyone to know.

I submit Exhibit A, where B pretends he does not like Brad:

Exhibit B, however, shows that he actually does like Brad, and Brad's kisses:

Exhibit C shows that he even likes when Brad kisses his eyes:

Case closed, ladies and gentlemen.

These two are in love.

From Jersey Shore to Jersey at Our Door: The Day I Almost Killed My Husband and Got a Dog (Note: These Two Things Are Related)

Meet the newest edition to our family, Jersey:

I know you are wondering to yourself "WHAT? They just got a third cat! Are they nuts?* How did this happen?" Let me tell you, I am wondering the same thing. Here's a little tale for you kiddies as you warm yourselves by the fire:

It is about 8 pm Tuesday night and I receive a text from B who is at his part time job. It merely says:

dont kill me. I have a surprise.

If you are married, you will automatically know that no text or conversation that starts off with "dont kill me" will end well. Hell, all you single people should know that too. So a "conversation" ensues via text message:

Me: What kind of surprise? Why would I kill you? Is it a dog?

B: Maybe.

Me: Are you sure? I am sure you wouldn't make such a permanent decision without any input from me.

B: It was going to be a surprise but they have to do a home visit and drop it off.

Me: And you didn't think I should have any input into this?

B: I thought your input would be no.

B: You were supposed to come home and it would already be there and you would go awwww..

Okay, he is right. My input would have been NO. We just got a THIRD cat. A kitten to be exact. The older one hisses and growls at him regularly. Also, it wasn't a good day. I came home to find:

1. two ornaments off of the tree and strewn around the living room
2. one ornament completely crushed
3. my mail chewed up and strewn around the dining room
4. puke with a poinsettia leaf in it

This was before there was ever a mention of a dog. Meanwhile, during this texting? I discovered a cat (*ahem* Brad) ate my recipe for chocolate chip cookies and tossed some bread around the kitchen. I think we already have a dog. He is just pretending to be a cat.

So, yes, my input would have been no. And, yes, my husband knows me well. He knows that if he had brought a very cute puppy home, I would not have let it leave. But I wasn't going to let him know that. So when he texted me later after sending me a link to the puppy, I ignored him:

B: Did you find it?

Me: Yes.

B: And?

B: Am I still dead?

B: Ok. I am going to drive home slowly.

B: I am just circling the block now.

Eventually he came home and we discussed the new arrival. I was just glad he didn't try to bring home a beagle. He told me he knew better than to do that and, if he had got a beagle, he would have just kept driving with the beagle howling beside him in the car. We know each other so well. That is why we are in love.

That is also why he is still alive.

So here is Jersey.** She is a beautiful lab/sharpei mix with a bit of shepard in her. She has huge wrinkles on her head which may not show up in the photos but will probably get more prominent as she gets older.

She fell asleep next to B after being attacked by Chester and ignored by Mooch.

How could you not love that face?

*We are totally nuts. Did you have any doubts?

**No, we did not name her after the Jersey Shore show. It was entirely coincidental. Or fate. You decide.

***No, B did not get the idea of getting a dog from yesterday's post. That was entirely coincidental. Or totally planned by him. You decide.