Category: Boo
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forecast
Among the things I will not be doing this morning is shoveling the driveway, even though I set my alarm clock to go bleepity-bleep-bleep a half-hour earlier than usual because the all-knowing National Weather Service said there was supposed to be somewhere between five and twelve inches of snow on the ground this morning. The Read.
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spittle
Bonkers is still plugging along in spite of whatever’s wrong inside his head, but the going’s starting to get a little rough. The poor guy has been having trouble swallowing for a while, occasionally leaving little puddles of drool around the water bowl and food dishes, but the problem, whatever it is, has been getting Read.
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wakey-wakey
Boo has apparently come to the conclusion that we should not sleep in on Saturdays. Every weekday morning, I get out of bed at five o’clock, start the coffee pot, take a shower, eat breakfast. She doesn’t pay any attention at all to me then, but on Saturday mornings, starting as early as six o’clock, Read.
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aging
I think My Darling B and I may have crossed the line and become Old People. Not just older people, but certifiably Old People, as in crotchety old, cane-waving, get-off-my-lawn Old People. The evidence is mounting, and seemingly irrefutable. See if you don’t agree: We both wear glasses now. I’ve been wearing glasses for dozens Read.
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Random
Thoughts that went through my head at 4:30 a.m. after the cat woke me up from a sound sleep by dancing across the bed several times: Obviously, the first thought was, Aww, dammit! What time is it? Feeling around the top of my bedside bookstand, my fingers found the flap that covers the bright green Read.
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New Year’s Eve
Today’s New Year’s Eve so we get the day off because we’re state workers. It’s one of the benefits that are showered on us like confetti at a hero’s ticker-tape parade. I can’t wait to see how that’s going to change. Watch this space. But for now, we’re enjoying the day off: Sleeping in a Read.
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Fine Dining
Finally, a chance to sit and dork around with a keyboard for a while and bang out something that isn’t an e-mail about education requirements for physical therapists. Let’s just see what comes out, shall we? I would have been at this a half-hour sooner if I hadn’t run to the corner mega-grocery to buy Read.
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Breakfast In Bed with Boo and B
Our cats sleep with us. We don’t have a lot of choice in the matter, as anyone who has cats will tell you. I suppose we could put them out at night, but what’s the point of having cats if you’re going to kick them out of the house after lights out, effectively telling them Read.
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sleeping arrangements
I woke at about four o’clock this morning and was at a complete loss to explain the reason for it. I hadn’t had a dream about a bear chasing and eating me, I didn’t have a cramp in my calf strong enough to bend steel, I hadn’t tried to swallow my tongue while snoring. With Read.
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lappy
Our cats are both “lappy,” Bonkers more so than Boo. Bonkers almost always sits in my lap, Boo in B’s lap. When I was too busy to share a lap the other night, though, Bonkers jumped up in B’s lap after he thought he’d waited long enough. Then Boo, green-eyed monster that she can be, Read.
This Is Drivel 