Don't Trust the Clock

After the change from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time, the custom is to adjust all clocks by an hour. 

Not me. 

The bedside clock is too difficult for me to remember which buttons to push. I'd do the math in my head, whichever way, to get the actual time.* Usually, this scheme works well. This season, I knew that whatever time was displayed, I would need to add an hour. It has been a workable system...until this morning.

The alarm clock read 2:00,  (I assume PM).*  I would have to leave the house by 12:30 to make it on time to Telling Our Stories. I thought, Well, I missed it.

That's what I get for snoozing. I overdid it today. 

Time to change the batteries.

⏰

* Uh-oh; me and math are a dangerous combination

* When you assume, it makes an ASS out of U and ME.

I'm falling apart

A week after falling in the library's parking lot, my back pain was no better. I woke up Thursday and kept having dizzy spells. I decided it was time to go to an ER to see what was going on inside my body.

The left half of my face is a mix of deep purple and a sickly shade of green.

Against my better instincts, I drove to Betsy Johnson Hospital in Dunn because it was closer to home and I did not need to use a highway to get there. (I'm not totally stupid). The experience was surprisingly uneventful (I've always preferred to go to Smithfield).

Granted, I spent a good six hours there. Had two CAT scans of my head and middle back. The results are: no stroke, my orbital bones are intact, and the bones in my back are only bruised. The vertebrae is compressed, so the bones are shifting. My bones are degenerating and I can't do a thing about it except maybe wear a back brace. That's good news, right? Nothing being broken is a win for me.

Then I thought:  

• This is the end of me mowing my own grass.
• This is the 2nd week I've asked my neighbor to mow it for me.   
• This is the end of my performing gardening chores.

AND

• I either need to hire a cleaning lady (because I'm a lazy housefrau).

                                                                                OR

•  I need to find an affordable senior apartment so I won't have any yard chores, period.
• Here? In Selma? In New Jersey?
• Those are frightening things to consider.

I need to discuss this with my son. Tomorrow.

#agingsucks

#aginginplace

#seniorlaments

The color purple

 

The color purple is not my favorite. 

I usually look good in dark colors. 

Not this week.

 

Thursday, I fell outside of the Smithfield Public Library. 

On concrete. 

Right before a meeting.

911 was called. An ambulance came.

The EMTs checked my vitals. 

They placed a large pad over my bleeding forehead.

I refused their kind offer of a ride to the hospital. 

Now I wonder if I made the right choice. 

There's a sharp pain on my left shoulder blade.

Did I bruise or break a rib? 

Should I go to a hospital's ER to check it out? 

Four days after a fall?

Using a heating pad feels OK while I'm seated in a chair. 

Getting out of a chair is a completely different story.

The only thing I'm sure of is that PURPLE is NOT my color!

#blackeye

#seniorfail

#seniorfall

#oopsie

Change of Plans

Tulip's new container of food had been stored on its side in the fridge  (the only way it can fit.) When the bin is full, it's too heavy for me to pick up. (Lawdy me; ah'm just a weak li'l woman!) 

Today was the second time the plastic top came off.  Uh-oh!

😺

    Ten 

        pounds 

            of 

                kibble

                    spread 

                        inside, 

                            outside,

                                and 

                                    under 

                                        the 

                                            fridge. 

Don't want or need dry cat food in the keep-fresh bins.

I swept up what I could. I'll vacuum later. In the meantime, Tulip will help me spot-clean up any scraps she finds. 

It should come as no surprise, the refrigerator needs a good cleaning. 

Sure wish I had a maid.

NEW PLAN FOR NOW: 

The food container sits upright on my bedroom dresser.

 

My Cat's Secret Thoughts

Tulip has no one to talk to unless I'm at home with her. I imagine she speaks to every venetian blind she gets her paws into. "If Mom won't open you, I will!"

Her kibble is stored in a plastic bin -- which Tulip has proven adept at opening. My only recourse was to refrigerate her food. Although I don't always visit the fridge for her specifically, Tulip races to be the first one to arrive at its door. She's forever hopeful that "Mommy's going to feed me!"

At the height of her most obnoxiousness, Tulip not-so-silently demands, "It's time for a meal. Do NOT keep me waiting!"

Tulip regularly visits the kitchen counter. It has long been a bone of contention between us. She has tested (and defeated) all types of barriers since she took up residence here. When realizing her access is blocked, Tulip laments, "Why does Mom insist on ruining my fun?"

It is not unusual to find bits of shredded paper on the floors (often from written notes to myself, or bills due for payment). Then there are paper bags; most cats like to play with them. The latest cat-in-bag experiment started the usual kitty way (comically exploring the Ins and Outs). As my feline chows down to shred the bag, Tulip probably thinks, "This is delicious!" 

There are times when Tulip behaves like a dog. When a guest comes to visit, she sniffs the person's leg to identify the scents. "Hmmm...this human has two cats and five dogs. Very interesting!"

Of course, she enjoys looking out of windows. 

• When my car pulls into the gravel parking space, Tulip appears at the office window. "Mommy's coming!" 
• Once I exit the car, Tulip leaves her perch in a race to meet me at the front door. "Mommy's home!"
• She splits her time between watching birds fly, or the feral cats who catch them, and traces two squirrels scampering up trees. Fall seems to be Tulip's favorite season; if only she could catch leaves falling from trees blowing in the wind. The glass prevents her success. "If only I could sneak out the door. I want to be part of the action."  
• Tulip effectively transmits these messages through body language. Her desire - to visit the great outdoors - is kiboshed by a well-placed foot (or box or shopping bag) in the door. "Mommy, please do not block the door." 
• (Yes, I got her message, but the answer is always "No."

I yearn for the times when Tulip settles in my lap. As she kneads my lumpy lap, she thinks, "Ah... just let me share a quiet moment with you." 

                                           

Her soft purrs let me know, "I love you, Mom."

The feeling is mutual.

💖

Merlee's Journey has a New Cover

Book sales have been underwhelming so far. If potential buyers don't flip the book over, they would not know the story is about "loss and foster care."

So now future copies of Merilee's Journey have the subtitle on the front cover. 

#merileesjourney

#fostercare

#loss

#authorbarbaracrowley

#adoption

I thought I fixed Tulip's wagon

The mesh barrier I put in place last week was not exactly foolproof. 

Well, depending on who you think the fool is...

Tulip snuck beneath the fence numerous times last week due to a stovetop gap. It has since been fixed by putting a closet rack upside down... so far, so good. 

Shh - don't tell Tulip about it because it appears to be working!

 

Notice there are four barriers shown below:

1. The mesh pull-out gate (like a theater's rope barrier system)
2. An inverted metal shelf bridges the stove gap 
3. Look for the inverted office tray on the back burner; covering potatoes
4. See the blue round bin on the right back burner. That's for fruit and veggie peels which will end up in the compost pile.

• The wooden spoon on the counter is how I reach the light switches without taking the expanding fence down.

Bins, bins, bins!

When Tulip started messing with my binders' spine inserts, I bought a few plastic bins with lids to amass my collection of books, binders,  and sundry items. It felt like I was buying one or more bins each week. There's little that she can get into now. 

I thought I was at maximum bin capacity... but of course, I was wrong. Years ago, I had attached a flexible open-top plastic tote to my walker.  The fact that it was an open-top container should have clued me in that it would need replacing. That flexible tote is now in my bedroom (sans walker), pending my next purchase.

Tulip, you're killing me!

On a more positive note, my contractor installed a fabric fence I had purchased on Temu on the kitchen countertop. It's a great deterrent. Its operation is a bit tricky, though. Connie gave me a tutorial on which buttons to push on the left to have the fence retract. Today I texted her to ask how to unclip it from the right side (a series of plastic zip ties). 

Connie texted me back. I will need to cut through the zip ties. It sounded like too much work for me to do at the moment, having just finished weeding for the day. 

Right now, the fabric fence is deterring me from washing my dirty dishes. Well, it was my big idea. I just need to come up with a better system to connect the fence on the right side. (Ugh!)

💔

Next on my shopping list:

    stackable bin for the living room (or two)

    zip ties for the kitchen (or find a better way to secure it to the wall)

 

🐱 😸 😺 🙀

#Tulip

#mischievouscat

#kitchenfix

#catdeterrent

#brightideas

Johnston County Senior Games

Last Thursday was the Silver Arts Showcase and Awards Banquet. My poem won a white ribbon (third place). I sang to Linda Ronstadt's When Will I Be Loved? I garnered a red ribbon for second place.

What I came home to...

 ...was a bouquet of fake flowers on the kitchen floor. It was the second time Tulip pushed over the two vases that were atop the blue hutch. Luckily, the glass vase was knocked over; it did not fall.

More tulip-proofing: the paper towels now reside in the microwave.

The binders stored beneath my cigar-shaped table were also fussed with. Tulip was pulling out the spine label. So I went to a dollar store for yet another plastic bin (the big one in the middle).

#Tulip

#brattycat

May Day

I had a great time in Asheville from May 1st through 4th.

First, I took a tour of the Biltmore Estate. Gorgeous gardens and conservatory. I not only got sunburned, I walked my feet off. That's what I get for not wearing my sneakers!

That evening through Sunday, I attended the North Carolina Writers' Network (NCWN) spring conference. Ron Rash, the author of forty books, was our keynote speaker. I bought three of his novels. Not only have movies been made of his work, many of his works have been translated worldwide.

During our banquet, we were entertained by a woman who is a master of the ukulele and storytelling. I didn't catch her name, but she was enchanting. Her performance of There's a Hole in the Bucket was a crowd-pleaser.

After my last class on Sunday, Zachary Vernon gave his class attendees complementary copies of his book, Our Bodies Electric. 

It was a fantastic weekend!

A Writing Rant

Here is a rant for any group member who uses Reply All  consistently.

My forthcoming guidance to my fellow members of [group name] about Reply or Reply All stems from a few days of not checking my computer for a few days. There were four pages of [group name's] emails that most of us can live without. 

If someone wants to thank a fellow group member or add a 1- or 2-word comment, can't they just message the one person? True; those messages are nice. . . for the one recipient. 

These voluminous messages have me almost putting [our group name's] messages of Thanks and Congratulations in my junk mail folder.

It's ridiculous: I'll see a congratulation message for one person go out to Reply All, which prompts additional thanks or congratulations from every Tom, Dick and Harry is sent - again - to the masses. Then each recipient thanks the sender (and everyone else), ad nauseum.  It's an endless cycle of nonsense. 

Save Reply All for original questions, new information, or helpful answers. Everything else is a waste of everybody's time. 

I apologize for ranting. 

Just hope I don't trip when I get down from my soapbox. 'Nuff said?

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

A Scribbler Box!?!

Like me, you probably don't know what a Scribbler Box is.

https://www.goscribbler.com/?srsltid=AfmBOooLm6ZMiSyT4lnuh8JF2y-A9YQzRvQXOpM8eH7NRwRVsY4INH8A

I registered early for a writing conference with the Triangle Association of Freelancers. I am among ten people who won a special gift subscription. There are four people who not only belong to TAF (known as Taffies), but they are also members of Neuse River Writers. (I'm a winner in two places!)

Once I get my hands on my very own Scribbler box (May 17th conference at the McKimmon Center in Raleigh), I'll let you know what's inside.

#scribbler, #scribblerbox, #writing, #winner, #convention, #TAF, 

#TriangleAssociationofFreelancers, #NRW, #NeuseRiverWriters

The Talented Tulip

This morning, Tulip turned a morning stretch into action. She turned on the bathroom fan.

Next, she'll be flushing the toilet. 

🚽

The Latest Irritant

Just this week, Tulip found a new way to get my attention. Until now, she nudged her empty food bowl off the table it's set on.

Now, she dumps the full dish down. 

Those dark spots aren't ants on the floor. You are seeing the remains of this morning's meal and Tulip's green overturned dish. I bought several slow-feeder dishes. She has no patience to eat slowly.

This is Tulip's way of saving it for later.

#Tulip

#slowfeeder

#cat_tales

Another Rainy Monday

In other words, BLEAH!

But I did switch out my winter clothes for spring/summer.

I scanned Facebook for other people's posts. I can never think of earth-shattering news to add myself.

Watched the latest Randy Rainbow videos on YouTube.

Had a video chat with my primary care physician to get a referral to another MD. Can't get CPAP supplies until I see that doctor.

Did my "homework"...describe my bedroom with only words. I can't believe that I didn't include the wall color and the strips of peel-and-almost-stick wallpaper. I've written two pages without it. Go figure.

It cleared up enough for me to walk to the mailbox.

Still don't have the get-up-and-go to vacuum. I'd rather be bored than do that.

#bored

#writingprompt

Forgetfulness

I had a great plan for completing this flash fiction assignment. I came across the beginning of a story written some time ago on lined pages of mini-pads. I would take that germ of an idea and dictate it onto my laptop.

Like a lot of things lately, I don’t know where that pad is. I thought I’d put it under my laptop. No such luck. Funny: St. Patrick’s Day is Monday. Might I have the luck of the Irish? I do have an Irish last name (my ex-husband’s).

How far should I go in retracing my steps to find it? This exercise runs almost like clockwork because I’m always misplacing things. I can’t even remember what the story was about. I can swear I had it in my hot little hands yesterday.

So…guess I’ll have to come up with another idea.

Perhaps - each time I perform one of my frantic searches - I should keep a log. Mark down the missing item, how long I searched and, if I located the item, where the hell it was.

Things I’ve lost lately: 

• My faux leopard winter coat. It could be at Wake Med in Raleigh, UNC Johnston (Smithfield) or one of the three ambulances I rode in after my car accident in Nov 2023. Gone for good ☹️.

• A pair of prescription glasses lost later that same month. Never found; they had to be reordered. ☹️

• Dropped my phone stylus down the side of my recliner. It’s a hungry piece of furniture.

• No matter what it is I look for, it “disappears.” ☹️

• That first pair of glasses went the way of my stylus. ☹️

• Dust bunnies were all I could find.🫣

• A check I needed to mail to the treasurer: search time was 1-½ hours. Finally found it in my purse (halleluja). 😁

• The last time my son visited, I lost my latest pair of Rx glasses. We both searched the house to no avail. When I rechecked my bedside table that evening, I spotted the blue wired frames had fallen to one side, caught in a maze of electric cords.😄

• My large tube of sensitive toothpaste seemed to vanish. This was a real head-scratcher. Turns out, the tube had somehow found its way into a plastic tub with other, smaller tubes of creams and ointments. That mystery wasn’t solved until Day 2.😁

Is losing things (my mind being one of them) my Special Power? It sure isn’t Finding Lost Things. At my age, I worry that 

I. Am. Losing. It.

But then, surely I have lots of company (or at least I hope I do). My shrink did an impromptu cognition test (elephant, camera, TV; draw an analog clock). This exercise was in answer to a conversation we had about… you know…

I often blame the cat for rearranging items around the house. This time I can’t do that. Sure; everyone misplaces stuff. It’s just happens so often, to what can I attribute this frequent inconvenience? There’s just Tulip and me. I can blame bad odors on her litter box. (Okay; sometimes I am the stinker). Who can tell? The litter box is outside the main bathroom, which increases the chances that I shall remain blameless.

Yeah. Old age stinks.

#forgetfulness

#old_age

#cats

Mostly Reclaimed Kitchen

 

Tulip won! 

I'd largely given up cordoning off most of the kitchen countertop. Of course, half my magnets were moved onto a cookie sheet, now hanging in my bedroom. Although I TRY to keep Tulip out of trouble, she continues to:

• Walk on any clean or dirty dishes.
• Nibble on the paper towels.
• Jiggle the toaster's lever. 
• Disturb the "coffee bar" atop the microwave.
• Mess with items on the stovetop shelf. 
• Those things now sit inside the blue cabinet (one of her favorite perches).
• Now she walks on the shelf, unimpeded.
• Just like she planned all along.

Tulip is the living dictionary definition of a curious cat.

Telling Our Stories 2/27/25

The prompt our little writers' group received is: "I'm Looking At."

I'm looking at my friends gathered at the Telling Our Stories table. I did not know any of these people when I joined the JoCo Writers Group. I mean, maybe they're just acquaintances. But it seems to me that we've each shared so much of ourselves. That makes them friends to me.

I count myself lucky for having known you for the past five-ish years. How you-all feel about me matters, too. Not how you feel about my writing, but how you feel about me as a person.

I'm looking outward as well as inward.

I can hear Dr. Wanda's pen scratching as she writes the assignment. Sherwood is clearing his throat as he considers what thoughts he can't write down due to his broken arm. The rest of our group is diligently scribbling down what they are looking at.

I wonder if our stories will be alike, or the usual mix of unique perspectives. "It's all good."

#writingprompt 

#friends

Fugged-about-it!

There are two well-known phrases attributable to New Jersey (my former stomping grounds). 

"Crazy Eddie's prices are In-Sane!" and "Fugged-about-it!" They were often used together in the same television commercial.

What I have forgotten is: 

• Where in the heck did I put my composition book? I remembered our homework assignment (whatever it was) is due today. 

• Where is that medical bill I need to address? This will be the third month I need to call.

• Which writing conferences have I registered for? I know that for one, I need to make hotel reservations. Both are happening in May.

#memory 

#writingconferences 

#debts

#gettingold

Friday

After a few days of sub-zero weather, I ventured outside for a walk. I needed to put my Senior Games application in the nearest mailbox. Hopefully, it will arrive on time.

Can't remember when I last took a walk. My body told me it's been too long. Man, my legs felt so tired when I was halfway to my destination!

I'm still wearing PJs for much of the day (underneath my jeans). 

So...what am I going to do at the Johnston County Senior Games? I'll submit a poem and sing a Linda Ronstadt song.

#coldweather #pajamas #seniorgames

Catch up with Tulip

Cat-proofing efforts have stopped over the last few days. I picked up more metal racks that I'll put behind the TV when I have a chance. Lately, I've ignored her obnoxious attempts to feed her NOW. I just worry that the whole television set will end up needing replacing. If I ignore her antics long enough, maybe she will give up.

Patience is a virtue I rarely have an abundance of.

It's been peaceful while Tulip is napping on the back of my recliner. Since I started typing this sentence, she woke up. 

I tried to video Tulip, but the file was too big to attach. That is something I need to learn how to do. Some other day.

Interesting News

Tuesday, February 11, 2025 www.mydailyrecord.com

It’s not every day that I pick up a local newspaper. 

• In The Week in Review, for example, you’d get four pages of old news (history), local sports, religious dinners, and slews of public notices for the Benson-Four Oaks area. In other words, there’s seldom anything in the rag that I would spend (waste) fifty-three cents on. 

• The Daily Record at least reports salacious happenings in and around Harnett County. These public records made for fascinating reading this week.

The Record lists restaurant health inspections, DWI arrests, real estate transactions, marriages and divorces, among other categories. While perusing the public records for Child Support, two individuals stood out to me as the worst offenders. It left me scratching my head, wondering what was so appealing to multiple women about these men. (Low standards?)

Reginald M’s name showed up four times. He obviously likes to get around.

• Betty was owed $11,777.66

• Monica was owed $1,171.18

• Trynika’s past due amount was $6,363.22

• Lastly, Rhonda was owed $2,287.76

Grand Total of $21,599.82

↓

Next is Joey P. He only had two women trying to get child support.

• Kimberly had $9,064.39 in past due payments

• Linda was due $4,046.32.

Grand Total of $13,110.71

↓

Weren’t any of these women aware of each other? 

Of course, there were plenty of other individuals named. One Baby Daddy to one Baby Mama; you can bet each man shirked his fatherly duties. Apparently, publishing these records holds no shame for them. If they get sent to jail, the kids would still suffer. Can someone please find a workable solution to this commonplace dilemma? (We know birth control and abortions are out).

↓

Where is Jerry Springer when you need him?

I'm Slipping

Ordinarily, I react quickly to the sounds of something falling to the floor. Tonight I came home from the grocery store with three items: a ream of copy paper, a piece of pig pickin' cake, and another item I've forgotten already. I left the full shopping bag on the kitchen counter to use the bathroom. While there, I heard something land on the floor.

It wasn't until I re-entered the kitchen when I found that Tulip tried to get to the cake. I'm sure she would have figured out how to open the plastic clamshell container. The cake and frosting were a jumbled (but delicious) mess.

Now, is Tulip smart, or am I dumb? 

Both statements may be correct.

Write On!

Today was the inaugural meeting of my weekly class, Write On! at the Benson Center for Active Aging. The four women and I had a great time discussing a wide variety of topics. Some differences were raised between a country mouse and a city mouse; which sparked further discussions. We discussed our origin stories: where we were raised, our religions, and our favorite foods associated with a special time in our lives. All of this was food for thought: fodder for how we can write about anything.

In fact, that was this week's class assignment. 

• Write about a food that connects you to a special memory in your life.  

I brought copies of my two novels, Merilee's Journey and Liberty's Scrapbook. Without any attempt at marketing, four copies of the latter were sold. (Thank you all!)

The public is welcome to attend each Tuesday from 1 to 3PM. If you have something to read, please bring it to the class. Expect a ten-minute writing prompt, reading what we wrote, and free-wheeling conversations and writing tips.

How do you write? Are you a plotter or a pantser? Do you know the difference?

A plotter uses outlines to plan what they write. A pantser writes by the "seat of their pants." Whichever way works for you...just go for it!

Book Launch

Last night's book launch was fun. I had the support of my fellow writers and my Scrabble friends. For a few people, this was the first time they visited Sisters II Ice Cream. 

I was happy to mail a check for a third of the night's proceeds to benefit Harbor House. While I'll never get rich being an indie author, my writing will have made a teensy impact for the deserving women's shelter.

I don't mean it in a derogatory way, but..

 Tulip is a wetback.

Daily, I arm myself with a spray bottle of water to scare Tulip away from messing around the television. Well, she'll step aside for a moment or two. Then she's right back at it. 

So she gets a little wet, but not enough to make it mean anything. My jumping out of the recliner is the most of what you might call EXERCISE I've gotten lately. 

When I think about it, I should really wear my smart watch. I'm curious to see if it's added to the number of steps I take each day....

Suggestion for DC

Please ask your representatives to begin the impeachment process against Trump / Vance / Musk. 

Since Day One, it has never been clearer that we are poised to become a much crueler US version of Hitler's regime. This time, there are so many "others" who will be targeted for extermination. The "enemies list," Jews, Muslims, atheists, Democrats, judges, Independents, non-whites, the handicapped, the homeless, the poor, and any persons who are Anti-Trump. 90% of the country might qualify to be the next list to "disappear."

Decent Americans of every race, religion, sexual orientation will become victims of the new police state run by the January 6th vigilantes just freed from their well-deserved jail time. 

Trumpers want the USA to be white again. Does that mean a return to slavery? Are all poor and middle class citizens going to be rounded up, along with refugees, asylum seekers and immigrants?

Will our new country's motto become The Rich Rule; The Poor Drool?

Weary of Daily Wiring Battles

Tulip looks so innocent when she's sleeping. No one would believe she can be such a little devil when she's hungry. 🙀 And when she's awake, she is always hungry.

When she's not rearranging my stovetop (yesterday inverting my black pepper shaker), Tulip is forever on the lookout for more places to explore.

Among the electric cords I try to hide from the cat are: cable modem, cable box, internet television wires, Amazon Alexa, my two Blink cameras. (Unplugged for now are my boom box and CDR player).

Tulip goads me into brandishing a water bottle when she gets behind the TV. She'll go through either side to walk amid the wires. She tries going under the television in a two-inch space; the plastic spikes there don't totally forestall her attempts to crawl through. If she sees an electric wire, she will play with it or bite it. (Bad kitty!)

Many times Tulip stretches her body across the whole height of the TV. Although I try to spritz her with water (without also dousing the wires), she often hops quickly over the top.

I'm completely frazzled by my kitten!

More Tulip Tales of Destruction

Seems that I should be mindful about things around the house when I'm talking on the phone. 

Last night I took a call; usually when Tulip's at her worst "feed me" obnoxiousness. This time, all was quiet. Granted, I did feed her. When I hung up and turned around, I didn't realize that I left her (covered) food container on the kitchen counter. She was chowing down to her heart's content.

I do more floor inspections after I hear something land on the floor. In less than two minutes, she knocked over a tape measure, then a screwdriver I had put on the kitchen peninsula. Don't know where the tape measure landed; it may have ended up under my recliner.

Tulip knocked off a mini basket of four spice bottles from its perch on top of the stove. Luckily, nothing fell behind the stove.

My cat loves to mess with the living room venetian blinds. Once the sun goes down, I wrap a  blanket over the lower part of the window. That way, she can't paw her way through the slats.

Tulip has taken to clearing my fridge of all papers and magnets. First, I emptied the left side of everything she liked to play with (or should I say, EVERYTHING). I tried moving the magnets a bit lower, but man, my kitten can s-t-r-e-t-c-h her body to reach farther down than I'd thought possible.

I'm using an old cookie tin to make "art" out of the relocated magnets. Right now, a pillow sham covers them. I need to pierce holes in the top to affix a string to hang it. Wherever the finished product goes, it'll need to be placed really high up or in a closed off room for safekeeping.

Dang! What won't I do to appease this cat?

While attempting to complete this blog, I'm hearing a succession of objects drop, meeting the floor behind me. A couple of containers "fell down." A tube of incense sticks and a spray bottle of STEM ant killer. Should I become incensed by this? Tulip keeps knocking over my canned citronella candle that's kept near the stove (unlit, naturally).

See the tall blue cabinet to the right? Tulip likes to jump on the top to rub against the three glass vases stored there, which concerns me. This mantra repeats; "That's why we can't have nice things." I am already thinking about alternate storage places for them.

If nothing else, this cat is keeping my mind sharp. It's a battle of wits that, for now, she is winning.