It's Not Easy Being Gray

Just ask Louise. Once she was the apple of my eye, my cherished and spoiled kitty. Back in the day when I was single, I used to love coming home from work. (And who doesn't?) Anyway, in the darkened bay window I would see the outline of her pointy ears as she sat there waiting for me. To me that was even better than a brass band heralding my arrival. Now the poor girl is lucky if she can manage to squeeze her oversized derriere into my peripheral vision once every few days. Tonight Daddy Mac working late, and Sam is in bed, so she's curled up right here next to me, catching up on some long overdue attention. Poor Louise. I just had to stop and give her a guilt-induced rubdown.

How did she fall from so far from grace? It has nothing at all to do with her furry self per se --she is still my favorite feline in the history of the universe. Well, two things happened to shake things up, and I will list them in chronological order -- drumroll please:

1. Bernie

and -- you guessed it --

2. Sam

As you probably would guess, Louise was none too happy about Bernie hanging out at "our" pad. So for a few weeks, she did what any right-minded kitty would do -- she peed anywhere and everywhere she thought would annoy me. (That's a lot of places, including a garment bag I had just finished packing to go to a wedding.) Needless to say, her nefarious plan was quite successful -- I was annoyed, very annoyed. Don't get me started... However, she soon came to a realization, a kitty "aha" moment. She actually liked Bernie. Cool! In fact she decided she liked him even better than me. Not so cool, but I got over it with some therapy. Ingrate kitty.

With Sam's arrival a few years later, it was like a tidal wave crashing down on her, wrenching her previous life away from her with its undertow. Buh-bye! Louise was freaked. (So were Daddy Mac and I for that matter, but that's a whole other story.) She not only had no desire to befriend the new babe, she had no desire to even be on the same floor as this wailing creature. So she hid. And she moped. And she hid, and she moped, and so on. And then the baby became a toddler, and she liked to sit close and watch him get into trouble until he started to grab her fur -- and her tail. Ouch. So she learned to observe his antics from a bit farther away so she could make a getaway if necessary. She wasn't always successful in avoiding torture, but she was quite a good sport. She never scratched Sam or even hissed at him, although I couldn't have blamed her if she had. (And I might have been tempted to cheer her on.) Poor Louise.

Now she and the Saminator are the best of buds. He even pets her nicely! Ah, domestic tranquility reigns once more, but it's nice every once in a while to have it just be us girls again.

LibbY

The Beach in March??

We can all attest this has been one looooong horrendous winter! I don't think I've ever been quite so ready for spring to spring itself into action as this year! Last week though, we had some really dazzling weather, enough to make you feel confident to put your snow scraper up in the attic until at least next November -- or just throw it out from overuse. (Did you ever think you could wear out a scraper in central Virginia? Never say never, I guess!)

So back to that dazzling weather! believe it or not, it was warm and sunny in the 70s -- in a word, awesome! And it was made even better by the date being March 18! So much for being beware of the Ides of March! Bring it on! Sam and I headed to Wishing Well Park with some friends. Needless to say, the place was jumpin', literally with little kids and their mommies thrilled to be out and being cooped up for way too long.

As we watched the kids on the swings, I casually mentioned our neighborhood lake to my friend who became really interested once she heard there was a sandy beach involved. (She'll do just about anything for a sandy beach!) So, before we knew it, there we were at good ole Lake Salisbury in March. A short stop by just to "check it out" became two hours and being home late for dinner and well worth it.

We had the entire place to ourselves, so the kiddos had a hey-dey with all of the well-loved sand trucks, broken boogey boards, and dead leaves left over from last fall. (Yes, even dead soaking leaves can be entertainment for 4-year-olds!) It was so glorious to sit on the beach in the warm sun that we just had to do it all over again the next afternoon. We were better prepared this time with enough snacks for an army, plastic boats, snorkels, fishing nets, and bathing suits -- for the kids only.

The only big difference between March and July weather was the water which was so freaking cold it made my feet hurt within seconds. The kids didn't mind or even seem to notice the frigid temperature, and Sam kept asking to go swim out to the docks and use his snorkel. No way, Jose! (Buzzer sounds, please!) There are limits. It is March after all.

LibbY

Can't Have Too Many Friday Night Lights!

A show about Texas high school football? Puleeeze, spare me! Or maybe not! Some friends gave us Season 1 and 2 because Daddy Mac went to high school in Texas. (Allie and Doug, you know who you are!) Man, at first I thought the show would be better than Geritol to put me to sleep. Football? Oh, my! Was I ever so wrong? It's now my favorite show of all times -- it's as addictive as a pillowcase full of Halloween candy. I just can't stop. Yes, I'm full on obsessed. And yes, I am into it enough to have just taken an online quiz entitled, "Which Friday Night Lights Character Are You?"

I was thinking I'd probably be Landry due to my vast sarcastic abilities and overall nerdiness. (And the fact that Landry loves to shop in consignment stores and drives cars older than the hills.) Alas to my great surprise the almighty quiz says I am no one other than Tami Taylor whom we call "Mrs. Coach" around these parts. Wait! Wasn't it just last night I was calling her annoying as well as a know-it-all who just rambles on and on (and on) and never admits when she's wrong. Perhaps the pot was calling the kettle black or maybe I'm an undiagnosed Mrs. Coach/Landry hybrid. Anyway, the fact that I am analyzing the results so much is another indicator of my deep-rooted obsession with the show.

Anyway, back to the show itself, I'm now halfway through Season 3 and have the calendar marked in red pen for the debut of Season 4 on Friday, April 26 at 8 PM. (That's Eastern time in case you are wondering.) So "listen up" (as Coach Taylor would say) If you haven't already become a Dillon Panther fan, it's not too late! With clear eyes and full hearts, you can't lose!

LibbY

Seriously, Where Does the Time Go?

In case you haven't noticed, I've been quite derelict in blogging away. It's because I've been busy doing what exactly? Drumroll please. I don't know! All that "little bit of this and little bit of that" adds up to a whole lot of nothing -- or is it really something?

Let's see, this very morning was a perfect (or not so-perfect) example. I managed to read a few pages in my book, "The Praying Life" which is awesome by the way and then put together two gifts and wrapped them up to mail. One was a baby gift and the other was a surprise gift for my mother who is going to Florida next week. (Hope she doesn't read this before she gets it.) Let's see -- I read the paper and the news on the internet, checked email and Facebook incessantly (problem!), took a shower and got ready for the gym (wrong order, I know), and ate some cereal and took some "vites" (slang for vitamins around these parts). Then the dinner decision was made for tonight --quesadillas. Let the defrosting begin!

Man, there must be something else -- oh, the Saminator. I gave him a bath because they have class pictures today with a real live bunny. Plus he was looking a little too scruffy for the likes of a professional photographer from a company called "Happy Face." The bath is unfortunately a big deal for him because he loathes it! Yes, he loves to swim but detests the bath because he hates washing his hair. Needless to say, the whole process always takes lots of time, cajoling, and patience, not my strong point as you may have noticed. After selecting his swim mask of choice (and favorite snorkel), we made mohawks out of his shampoo-filled hair and got 'er done, thank God.

Then we were off on an even more time-consuming dilemma --coming up with a springy-yet-warm outfit to wear to school today for the bunny pics. It is a blustery 38 degrees outside today, so how exactly does one make a Norwegian sweater and down jacket look all springified? (Is that a word? I suspect not.) I managed to find a brand-new light blue oxford I must have bought on sale last year (or my alter ego) and literally squeezed him into some cute khakis that used to fit him last fall without a big squeeze. Hope he doesn't have to go to the bathroom before the pictures because they may not get those pants buttoned back up. Not my problem. That's why those preschool teachers get the big bucks, right?

Hmmnn.. what else? While I was packing Sam's bag with his daily ration of raisins for snack, he discovered a cute stuffed bear in my gift closet, open because yours truly forgot to shut it. Whoops! Seeing he was in very temporary state of love, I decided to roll with it -- and work it. Here was my nefarious plan -- I told him he could have it if he would actually get on the phone and talk to his Beantown grandparents. (That's called a bribe.) It worked although he did have one caveat, "I want to talk to Pops first because he is a boy." Guess he hasn't realized that Grams does all the toy shopping...

Of course there were a few other things, but that would get boring -- even more so than these juicy tidbits. Scary, I know.
So if you ask me what I've been up to lately, I'm actually trying to spare you of lots of inane chatter when I say with a shrug, "I don't know." I actually do know, but know that deep down you don't really want to know. Trust me on this one.

LibbY