my favourite maru

(a maru of a very different sort than the last one I posted, purely co-incidental)

Maru, the Japanese box loving cat, is 7! 

And still as adorable as ever.

If you've never seen his videos on youtube, here is a treat
with rare sound - most of the videos neither have, nor need, voices or music -  
but it is his birthday, after all.

Enjoy 

I

cats enjoying themselves

all cats have wonderful stretches 

(Cat Yoga)

and love to play

(Irina Zeniuk's Blue Cats)

and after all that,

there's the sleeping to be done 

(Jeffrey Brown from "The Cutest Sneeze in the World")

PostcardFriendshipFriday

free entertainment

I'm not entirely sure what "freeview" is 

(I believe it's some sort of digital channel out of the UK) 

and I'm even less certain how the advertising team came up with this idea, but it's brilliant! )

do they know we are laughing at them?

I dare you to look at these sleeping cats and not laugh uproariously.

cats and me

This past week has been spent in the company of Willie. I am not sure I much like Willie.
He is a bit noisy - always has something to say, even when there really is nothing to talk about. And really, for someone who never goes outside, he seems to have an awful lot of opinions.

He is also a bit thin and leggy. And is black and white. For some reason, I have no idea why, I am not drawn to 'tuxedos' or black and white cats.

And next week, I get to visit with Maggie. She has become a lot less frenetic since the first time we spent time together about three years ago. But she still tends to look down on me.









All this cat sitting is making me want to get one of my own again.
like the one on this postcard that came in the mail from Postcrosser Jodie in Thailand.

Sunday Stills - people

Taking photos of people is not my forte. For some reason, I find it uncomfortable. I don't really know why. Maybe it is because I hate having my photo taken.
Pictures of street scenes look much more lively with people in them, but somehow, mine all end up looking a little... flat. I checked my archives and spent hours studying them to see where I was going wrong.


Then I went out and tried to get some people.

I decided to work on getting over my self consciousness about it by starting with something familiar.
Like a duck,
with some random people sitting at the cafe
(apparently oblivious to this duck in the pool)













then I moved on to some geese, with a random guy on a park bench reading...

this was getting easier. 

I moved on to focusing on these people using the binoculars and ended up with a random gull

I did manage one without any avian distractions... this one, taken last Sunday at the Elora Gorge (before I knew the theme) of a man who climbed over the wall, risking life and limb for a good shot. 

(he said he does it all the time and felt quite safe. I was holding my breath trying to capture his foolhardiness)

as a bonus,

feeling a little more confident

I was with my niece and we visited friends with a rescued kitten.
this adorable little thing was abandoned by her mother after her siblings died. we think she is about 4 weeks old. we also think she may be a boy, but somehow we all persisted in referring to him as she.

all taken for Sunday Stills and as usual, images will embiggen with just a click

Monday AMuse

two cats, two televisions

Before I have my key in the door it starts. The meowing. An incessant meowing. Not a me-e-ow here and there, more like a staccato, with no pause for breath and definitely not drawn out. meowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeow. Then, she flops down in front of my feet with no warning, no change in her meowmeowmeow. We play for a bit. She may or may not eat, now that I am here. She grabs a drink of water, then ... pounces. I don't think this cat knows how to retract her claws. She kneads your neck. your neck!! I found some teatowels and learned to drape myself; the claws get through but not as sharply. We finally settle into a routine and I bring over an old toy of Abby's that she no longer bothers with. It is a flexible wire with bits of cardboard on either end. You can hold it with one hand and let it flop around and watch the cat do amazing pirouettes, flips and triple salchows and stretch every single muscle her body owns. I sigh as I think how I can barely straighten up after tying my shoes.

My cat, Abby is almost 15 years old. Maggie is a little over a year old. I often wonder what I will do when Abby is gone - will I get another kitten? an older cat? or maybe two cats?

I have noticed within the last couple of weeks that she no longer follows me every time I head for the washroom. She now barely even deigns to open one eye when I move. Lazy beggar. She's fine and healthy, just... old, I guess.

So, babysitting Maggie was an interesting reminder. I have heard, from my friend Brian, that she has become much more affectionate since he returned after two weeks away!

While we are playing with towels and bits of cardboard and wire, I watch TV. I soon started timing my visits to coincide with certain programs. That big screen ( 27", 32", I forgot to measure, but certainly way bigger than my 17") with HD and satellite almost had me gasping. I don't watch an awful lot of television, so never pay much attention to the latest innovations. I soon started rethinking that. Wondering just how much a satellite dish cost anyway... and now that my television has decided to be most unco-operative (it turns itself off whenever it feels like it and has a fuzzy reflection on the screen and I'm told: it's better to just buy a new one...)

So now, I am sitting here with a cat who may or may not have moved from her (my) bed since I came home from work at 4:30AM and no tv at all. I feel a little lost. Yet liberated at the same time. I have no idea what shows I am missing because I only check the listings if I know I can be at home and watch it. I can at least scratch behind an ear or two without having my neck scarred. And we both seem to have a lot of time to stretch out the massage. I should think about charging her for the hour. Nah, I'm getting my pleasure in reflective contemplation and warmth from a heavy cat stretched across my stomach and chest. It's lovely really, this slow, steady non- moving sleepy cat.

I went to the store to check out new televisions (if I am paying for cable, I should at least have the choice of watching it or not, yes?) and am still undecided. Then I wandered next door to the pet store. The kittens were sleeping.

a totally made up story with real pictures

Hello, my name is
MissyChrys
and I will be your guide through this
Chrys an' the Mum Show (not a registered trademark name) that is on here at my greenhouse in the park. I know, the signs plastered all over town just say MUM SHOW, I have lawyers working on that.

Keep up and take photos, but do not touch the flowers, because they are art and well, I said so.




This year's theme is Autumn Harvest.






See how this truck that looked like scrap metal in the field has been transformed by the addition of a few dozen pots of pretty mums onto its bed? I have to guard it from stray squirrels who think it might be a bed of roses and set them straight.

Now inside, my kitties, and feast your eyes.

Don't mind the cow, she is tame and friendly.

She even has a pet chicken. There is a treat if you can guess the correct number of mums covering that cow.




Did you know that there are over a hundred and fifty different varieties of mums? No, well try telling your friendly floral buyer that at your local grocery store.

And see all the farm implements decorating the walls, some of them even have notices telling you young city folk what they were used for. Now you can feel thankful that you have more advanced tools to work with.

That is my loft up there, where I keep track of everything a good barn cat keeps track of.


Okay, I know, closeups of the pretty, pretty flowers... (licks paw, while waiting)


Keep up, we're going throught the bit where they try to sell you stuff, but we'll hurry on through to the tea room, where these cheerful and hardworking ladies (wearing great big corsages) will serve you tea or coffee (with a snack). Darn, looks like that bus tour of seniors just left.

If you find out who made these interesting tea cosies, let me know, because if I ever get a day off, I might like an evening with them...

Oooh, look, turtles!


yeah, that mouse you are holding onto? you know, I'm a barn cat and can see it? I'll let it live so you can use it to biggify the photos...

There will be more photos every day this week on Sightlines

Sunday Stills - water

It has been a lovely spring day and Abby has been sunning on the balcony in the sunshine.

Violet has been entertaining all weekend and strolling along the streets in search of an outdoor patio.

Me, as a cat, I have simple needs - a bowl of water and I'm good. Here I am, having discovered that drinking from my paw is so much neater than slurping straight from the bowl. It shows a certain amount of dexterity and finesse, don't you think?

This week's challenge was water. See more SundayStills takes on water by going here

9 days on

Violet is still ... under the weather. Unwell. I thought I heard her say she was feeling "wretched" this morning when she came in from work. I'm sure she didn't mean it.

I am getting worried about her eating habits, though. She keeps picking at those candy dishes she has laid out all over the place. And her breath, well, it smells a little, weird. I keep trying to get really close to determine the various notes, but every time she starts coughing and wheezing and getting all drippy.

Yep. Must be those Ricola candies she's constantly eating.

I think I'll take them away from her, one by one.

Abby is here to help you, my pet.

Monday AMuse

Monday AMuse

you've got mail

Several months ago I came across a site called POSTCROSSING which intrigued me so much that I immediately signed up to participate. Then I promptly did nothing more about it. When I read one of Scott's posts about his cat Orlando's travelling postcards, it took a few moments before the vague memory dawned... ah, he has discovered Postcrossing too! So I immediately found the site and tried to log on. Except I had no idea what my username or password was. See, I need lovely organizing file folders for everything. A special folder for my usernames and passwords. Yeah, that should help. Anyway, I signed up again, taking forever to come up with a name that would be accepted - I guess a few hundred more people had signed up and taken all the good names. I guess I could have just gone with VioletSky, but I wanted something different. So now, my cat whose name has morphed into Absynthe, is sending mail throughout the world through the wonder of postcards. Finland seems to be seriously over-represented - out of my first five requests for an address, three were in Finland. My next three requests gave me two more from Finland. Sure hope Finns like postcards from Niagara.

This is how it works. You register and create your profile with as little or as much information as you wish, then request up to five addresses for your first mailing. You get a user ID number for each postcard and must write that number on your card. Once the recipient gets your card they register that ID number and your name goes into the lot for the next person who requests an address. Eventually you will be getting mail with foreign stamps and pretty pictures from all over the world - or at least of the 181 countries where people have signed up. Or Finland.

My first card arrived yesterday - exciting!!

It came from France, a place called Le Grand-Luce

.

or how I tried to kill a cat

There are two semi detached houses on my route where both halves get a newspaper. The doors are side by side, flanked by sticking-out garages. Every night I go up one of the driveways and toss the papers, sometimes simultaneously using both hands, sometimes one after the other onto each respective porch. Because the porches are set back, they are in deep shadow. More than half the time, I can hear the distinctive bell from a poor startled cat running off one or other of the porches. I have no idea what this cat actually looks like as I have never seen it and I don't know to which side he belongs though he seems to favour the right hand porch, the one with the wicker chair. On more than one occasion I have heard a loud meeeeoowwwwww and know, instinctively, that I accidentally hit my target. And that Saturday paper can be heavy.

~~~~~

When I visit my clients for a massage treatment (my real career), I bring my table and all the necessary accoutrement with me to the client's house. Makes me rather popular. My table has a nice big coat to protect it. There is a large pocket on the front with another handle to make the whole thing easier to carry. I don't usually use the pocket for much other than tossing in my appointment book and maybe my keys. Cats especially find this bag interesting and worthy of inspection, and sometimes for sleeping on. Many times, I've had to rouse a disgruntled cat in order to pack up. Once, I packed everything up and put the bag into the trunk of my car. I have two sets of keys, but only one set works in the ignition. As I sat down in the driver's seat, I realized the ignition key was in the pocket of the bag in the trunk. I go back out, reach into the bag and my hand touches something very warm and soft. I open the pocket a little further and suddenly a tiny marmalade face with blinking green eyes starts mewling. My client's months old kitten had made herself quite at home and put up with all the churning and tossing about without a sound or attempt at escape.

~~~~~

Today, I return from the computer shop with my hard drive after a failed attempt to recover my RSS feeds (sigh, so many lost blogs). I have also a bag of groceries in one hand, the tower balanced on hip and arms, and my keys in the other hand as I manoeuver my way into the living room. My cat is rolling on the floor in a lazy greeting and suddenly jumps up. I trip over her and manage to catch the falling tower, choosing to drop the groceries instead. I bang into the corner of the wall in order to save my precious cargo as the cat sits resolutely on the floor hunkered down, ready to be stepped on again.

neighbours

There are 12 apartments on each floor in my building. For a few years we were a group of 12 single women. What are the odds? The pet of choice was overwhelmingly the cat. Six cats to one puppy. Two of my neighbours were very close friends and were always at each other's doors for a chat. They stayed in the hall for some reason and one of the ladies, Helen, had a rather booming voice. It went well with her opinions, of which she had many and was not shy to share. You always knew where you were with Helen. When Helen and Joyce were having one of their gabfests, doors would open (often mine first as they were right in front of my door) and soon Audrey would join in with her stage ready voice. Once Ursula came out well, much laughter ensued. Sometimes, Verna would pop her head out to say we were too loud, but would stay to see what the gossip was. Lorna would appear at the end of the hall, with her cat Timmy who followed her everywhere. People would get off the elevator and join in. If Catherine was nearby she'd have pictures from her latest trip which might include paragliding, or sailing. Serena would regale us with tales of woe from her job as a flight attendant for the now defunct Canadian Airlines. Her kitten (I forget his name) and Abby would venture out and we'd watch as Timmy cautiously wandered down the hall from his end and (let's call him Felix, for want of a name) would romp up and down the carpet sometimes with the puppy, Oscar, at his end of the hall. Abby would be in the middle, eventually wandering down to meet Timmy. Felix would watch to see if he needed to hide from flying fur. But the rest of us knew that Abby and Timmy had a long distance attraction. They would gaze at each other through the railings of our balconies. Of course, for that to happen, Abby would have to crawl over to Verna's balcony. Which she did with astonishing regularity. She always found a way to get around or under the solid divider that separated Verna's and my balcony to sit by the railing at the other end. For hours the two cats would sit and face each other quietly. Helen didn't approve of this. Her cats never left her apartment, not even for the balcony. She thought I was very negligent and that I would pay for my negligence by finding my cat on the ground one day. I must say, it was unnerving to see her peering over the edge with her front paws dangling, watching whatever was going on below. But she was perfectly safe and perfectly content.

Nowadays, I am the oldest (as in years of living here) tenant on our floor with Catherine and Ellie living here 2 years less than me. Helen had lived here since the building was built in 1964. She and Verna and Ursula and Audrey have all passed away. Joyce and Lorna have moved away. And Catherine has been on an extended holiday for much of the year. There have been several changes and the new tenants aren't nearly as friendly. No one seems connected. The laughter has gone, as has the gossip. Sometimes we will meet in the hall and barely a word will pass. Many times we will meet in the elevator and not even know that we are neighbours. The pet of choice has become the dog. But that is another post.

fun stuff

I have decided that my wee black cat on my sidebar needs a name. She is now Maisie.

Maisie, as you can see, is also trying to play with my new widget, the black box. Ha, but it is just out of her reach. You have control of the cursor so go ahead and play if you dare. Someone described it as like being on a magic carpet ride. I'd like to give them credit, but I have no idea where I saw that while I was being whisked off to various blogs through the magic of randomness. The coolest and most addictive widget to hit the internet was created by the Stray of Chasing Sheep, for Caroline of In Search of Adam – as a marketing tool for Caroline’s new book Black Boxes. So, learn about Black Boxes and how to get your own by clicking on about black boxes. That's easy. Then when you are ready to play, move your cursor thingy over to 'decide' and click, then make your choice and see where you end up. You may discover a new bloggy friend.

So, an extra special WELCOME if you came here via the black box. Please say hello, cheers, or anything nice you can think of, in the comments. I'm friendly and will definitely return the cheer.

For the rest of us who do not live in the US, but will still be affected by the upcoming election, and who already have had many, many discussions over who we think should win, well now we have a chance to make absolutely no difference at all with a vote. Go to If The World Could Vote where you will be able to cast a ballot for either Obama or McCain. The site uses your IP address to determine which country you are in and only one ballot can be used per computer. The results are mapped out with the results shown on a world map and a bar graph for each candidate in each country.

Monday AMuse

I Kick Ass, in an unspectacular way.

I have been a little neglectful.

But really, it was all so overwhelming.

It seems that even while I'm on holiday, I can still Kick Ass. And I should acknowledge it before Urban Animal comes to find me and actually kicks my ass for not mentioning my NEWEST AWARD.

Also, while still on holiday, I got tagged by Frogdancer over at Dancing With Frogs.

TWO Recognitions! I think I actually squealed when I read them. Abby looked up at me from her sleeping post on the footstool, and I could just tell by her eyes, and the strange curve of her mouth that stifled a yawn, that she was thinking: oh god, please no, she's going to want to tell me about this, whatever it is and I'll need to go find somewhere else to sleep. And off she ambled to another room. I followed her anyway and tried to explain my excitement but she was having none of it and took a sharp right turn to the litter box, turning to glance my way with a look that could only say: privacy, please. I knew better than to continue following. She's a quiet, wordless cat, with a potent litter box.

Anyway, thank you Urban Animal. And I know, I'm supposed to pass it on, but after my last post, probably no one wants to know about my ass kicking abilities!

But, from Frogdancer, I need to list 6 unspectacular things about myself.

Only 6?? I came up with 35. Oh well. Here's my list:

1. I am nervous around dogs. More afraid of being licked than bitten.


2. Once a year, or so, I remember that I have pierced ears and will wear earrings to see if the holes have closed up.


3. I will not eat mushrooms. Or olives. Ever. If you order a pizza with those on it, I will studiously pick out every mushroomy, olivey (and green peppery, just in case) looking bits on each slice before taking a bite.


4. Sleeping is a favourite pastime. I wish to be a pampered cat in my next life.


5. I talk about drinking much more than I actually drink. Alcohol. Not coffee. That I do drink more than I talk about.


6. Until 5 years ago I had the same prescription for eye glasses as when I was 12. But not the same glasses.
   

Now, the rules are that I also tag 6 others with a reason for choosing them. Well, my reason is the same for all of you. I'm interested in your writings of your little world you live in and am nosy enough to ask for more.

• Grumpy Old Ken because you tell such great stories of your life
• Sagittarian for your great Kiwi videos you share
• Whim because you have so much honesty in your life story and will soon be famously on a billboard
• Gwen for the amazing art you do which almost tells a story by itself
• Robin for your descriptions of your neighbourhood and work, the good and the bad
• Mr Nighttime because you also want to be a writer, so must share all.
  

Now I'm off to spread the good news.

pillow talk

I bought two new pillows a few weeks ago. One was an expensive pillow from IKEA that was on sale for half price. The other was an expensive pillow from Shoppers Drug Mart that was on sale for half price. I know. I only do bargains. And I even got to use my Optimum points, so I actually got the second pillow for about the same price as I usually pay for pillows, which is around $8. Though I usually get two for that. They naturally don't last very long. And are often not all that comfortable after a few weeks, or nights even. But this gosa raps pillow is still very comfortable. It doesn't flatten down to nothing the way a down filled pillow does (I could never see the point in having a pillow so pillowy soft that it downed into flatness). It also doesn't have those sticking-out-pointed-bits of feathers the way feather pillows often do. You know the bits that stab you in the cheek as you snuggle into the pillow to make it mold to your head. The bits that give your cat so much pleasure to play with. It is a little disconcerting to realize that your beloved pet is not lying by your head because she is in love with your freshly shampooed hair, but is instead waiting for you to roll over and reveal another morsel of sticking-out-pointed-feather-bits to pull on and play with and eventually kill. Don't be fooled, she is not killing the feather for you. But she will put her hind foot into your eye if need be to get at it. The other pillow is a water pillow. It is perfect, as you can adjust it to any firmness you wish merely be measuring the water inside its leakproof shell. You do need to remember to keep the side with the plugged up hole on the bottom, though. And sometimes, if you are having a strange dream, the sound of the water moving in the pillow will only add to the dream and make it even weirder. Like waves crashing on a pebble while you're floating in a kayak trying to eat a smoked salmon sandwich which dissolves as you find yourself on a mountainside in a in a garden of yellow and blue flowers when a hard screech of a train whistle sounds awfully like your alarm eventually and you wake yourself up by talking out loud about a key and then you get up and go to work.

Yeah, I have no idea either.