Friday, December 14, 2012

Electrified Cats

There are few joys equivalent to watching confused cats electrocute themselves on their favorite rug.

The winter is dry. The cold ensures that any moisture freezes in midair. The cold, plus wood heat puts my little kitties in precarious situations. Here's how I picture my Cat's logical process: "to walk on the metal stairs, or not walk on the stairs...... maybe I'll just lie on that a-hole T's side of the bed to get it all hairy".  Then the cats (and I) laugh maniacally.

Today I watched Wink try to be affectionate with Noodle. Her innocent little nose made a snapping noise at it touched his face. Taking affront to her aggression, Noodle attacked and rolled her around the carpet to show her who was boss. A flurry of snap, crackling, and kitty hair rolled around the living room. When they play in the dark I can see a ball of sparks rolling through the house.

They love to get petted and they HATE it!. "please pet me......... ouch! bitch!.... Pet me, pretty please pet me....WTF! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!.....purr purr purrr pet me pet me pet me!....SNAP! CRACKLE! MEEEEOOWWWWRRRR!... kitty glare.......look at me! look at me! look at my GLORIOUS tummy, don't you want to rub it?.... YOU COW! how are you stabbing me with nothing?! WHAT KIND OF DARK MAGIC IS THIS?!"

The winter shedding does not bring me joy. When I decided to get Noodle, I was determined to have a black cat. None of this light hair all over everything BS.  He's black as a rotund, tiny panther. But that little F'er has a WHITE undercoat! Wink was a short haired kitten. Now she likes to leave that short hair right under T's spot at the kitchen table- also on his blanket, shoes, couch, rugs that he painstakingly picked out for the house, and his pile of clothes.

T and the cats have a love hate relationship. The cats LOVE to torment him and he HATES them.  "cats, what are they good for - all covered in shit and piss mumble grumble.. New Zealand accent... mumble mumble...." Today I saw him encourage one of the cats to continue chewing on the Christmas light cord in hopes that she would electrocute herself. He had a spray bottle at the ready. He complains about the mess from the cats - cleaning their crap,puke, hair, feeding them all the time yadayada" This was right after I had finished cleaning the bathroom - a process he is unfamiliar with - and cooked him supper, done the dishes, yadayada.  He also likes tummy rubs and back scratches....


Noodle staring at T's hair in the drain

Wink sprawling out on T's side for maximum hair spread













*Disclaimer: I am in NO WAY criticizing T's housekeeping or girlfriendkeeping skills in the slightest. He is wonderful and I could not ask for a harder working, kinder man. The timing of the cat thing was just impeccable. And no, he did not strong-arm me into this disclaimer - I haven't even told him about this blog.


Thursday, December 13, 2012

My house is a pyramid

Seriously

 My house is a pyramid

I live in a log pyramid with cedar shingles and windows that look like  ethereal eyes. Sometimes it feels like the building might rise up out of the inconvenient artesian well that it's slowly sinking into and walk/fly/whatever away. My mom was interested in Atlin in the 80's where strange "spiritual" things were happening. She was pretty into the occult when she was younger and Atlin was of particular interest. When she converted to Christianity she was creep-ed out more than anything. She had heard of a healing centre created with the power of prisms - and here I am living in it. I expected the house to have a creepier feel to it. Maybe that spirits would have been left behind from whatever shenanigans the Brannigans brought with them when they opened the Atlin Healing Centre. As far as I can tell, the worst we've got is a creaky chimney and doors that fall open due to the foundation shift. Come to think of it, I think there are only 2 or 3 doors in the house that actually shut. People have mentioned they sensed spirits in this house back in the day. I have a theory. The building is basically a giant bird perch. Unbeknownst to the birds, a real good wind could give just enough momentum to drop a happily sun bathing seagull right down the chimney chute. Lots of room to get down, none to fly back up. The duress and struggle of birds would likely resemble a poltergeist right? T said that when he moved in there was a layer of burned bird carcasses. He HATES birds.

We have a guard on the chimney now.