Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood.... (or "Never Rue the Roo")

Oy.

It feels a bit like a million years and also no time at all. How does that happen? I've been bouncing around like a kangaroo with one leg tied behind her back.

In any event, life has been more than a little chaotic for me lately, but it has inspired some New Month's Resolutions, which I've started early because August is a stupid hot month, so I'm hoping if I start now it will also end earlier. Don't tell me if I'm wrong.

So here are August's New Month Resolutions. You'll notice I've done away with the Kanga-bounce and am focussing on the roo:

1. Roo the Spinning Wheel Blogring. check
I went through the entire ring in the past twenty-four hours. That's well over two-hundred blogs. I was unable to comment on them all, but I did comment on a few. My main purpose was to check that the ring navigations work and the blogs are being updated. I was fairly loose on restrictions - ring rules state must be updated once a month, and I wasn't real picky on that, but if it's been much longer (more like "months" than month) or if you moved your blog and didn't tell me, you got bumped to the cue. If you want to get back on the list, do what's needed, let me know, and I'll let you back in. Some got exceptions because I know of life situations that made blog updates tricky, and that's fine. I also bumped those that didn't have the correct code, though in most cases I did send them the code again.

If you're reading through the blog ring and find something wonky - a link doesn't work, or a blog hasn't been updated since the turn of the century - please let me know and I'll look into it.

2. Roo my schedule.
My eyes are bigger than my stomach right now. I have a dozen or so projects that I really want to do, and I've known for a while that I have knitter's ADD, and that just isn't working. So I'll be really trying to focus on things and get a little more organized. Next proof of this you'll see is a very special pattern that I hope to release by the end of this week. This means I will fight the urge to get started on the top that I was daydreaming about yesterday and get going with the project sitting right next to me now.

3. Roo my home.
I've been stepping over things since I moved in here two and a half years ago. I made an attempt to do some solid junking & donating a few years back and it became apocolypse:trailer. What I learned from this was to not involve my father or husband (long distance) in any decisions. Nothing will be missed. Much will be missing. This will be a slow, on-going project. I'm betting it won't even be noticed by anyone else in the house.

4. Roo some weight.
This is in preparation for the cruise, lest I be mistaken for a lifeboat. Wool that is rooed is gone forever. Weight that is lost can be found again. 'nuff said.



In other news, a new Optical Mouse (is that what it's called? I just picture a little mouse in spectacles) has been purchased, cut out of its packaging, thereby causing the previous mouse ball to roll out of its hiding place literally thirteen seconds later. One of them will get set up with the other computer soon (but first, re-read #2 - some other things have to come first!) and will have pictures forthwith.

These are all good things. Honest.

MeMe Minus Mouse

This update meme brought to you by Bess and the silent letter "e". Shhhh....

What was the scariest thing (or one of them if you’ve had many adventures) you ever experienced?
The most scared I've ever been was when I was the only one awake in the house the morning of my cancer surgery and writing a letter to my husband in case something went wrong.

Do you plan to retire where you are right now or move somewhere else?
I love this area (MD/VA) but I hate where I live now. So a little bit of both. I'd like to stay within an hour or so of Baltimore, but have land and an actual home (with doors that actually close) and a little more room.

Three little gifts you’re always glad to get:
Love letters
Any "I just saw this and thought of you" from someone who really gets me
Something hand made

4 careers you might have enjoyed:
Animal trainer
Writer
Drama teacher
Performer in musical theatre

A book you loved as a child but found disappointing as an adult:
I really can't think of any - books change as I change, and the books that I was really passionate about as a child grew with me. Black Beauty, Roots, Chronicles of Narnia, the Laura books, all became more multi-dimensional to me as I matured.

"Somebody ought to do (invent, make, write) that!
A DVD system that will play a director's commentary into headphones, so that I can watch/listen to that without forcing my husband to.

Where or on what could you easily drop $100? - up to 5
Yarn/Fiber
Books
Manicure/pedicure
Plants
Bookshelves/furniture (hardly counts since it's almost all more than $100, but I like to shop for/buy it)

Name an adult, not a parent, who really had an impact on you before you were 18 and what made such an impression.
Judy owned the horse farm I grew up on and eventually worked on for a time. Without her ever saying it directly, I learned from her that animals and people will give you back what you expect from them. She bought/adopted/rescued animals who had been abused or neglected, nursed them back to health, and gave them lives working at her farm. Animals that people thought were nothing more than dog food would do anything for Judy, because she respected them, loved them, and gave them a second chance. If you expect an animal to be stupid, why should they prove you wrong? If you expect an animal to be intelligent and worth your time, they will prove you right. I often get asked why my animals are all so intelligent and full of character, and I think of Judy when I answer "because I allow them to be".

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!

(still no mouseballs. massive search attempts commence today)

Grey Anatomy

The mouse ball has not been located yet. I imagine it's been since used as a toy and is under the couch or someplace else that little arms can no longer reach and bigger arms can't lift.

In any event, no mouse ball, and for this, you should be grateful.

Otherwise you might have had to look at pictures of mouse balls. And legs, and beady little eyes. All in the mouth of a cat.

It was a fun morning here in the Rose Garden.

I woke up, was calmly checking e-mail, when a loud KER-THUMP! came from the kitchen. The dog was still in bed, Aslan was next to me, so I think we can all deduce who caused it.

And in came Trevor, trotting merrily around the room with the other cause of the ker-thump. A mouse. In his mouth. (say that three times fast)

He clearly wanted to do something with it, and our house clearly wasn't set up properly, as he trotted up and down the length of the house several times with it in his mouth.

Now, I get that animal instinct is strong. I never blame Trevor for mousing, though it sickens me. I don't mind mice as beings, though I do very very much mind seeing hurt or frightened animals, and dead one's ain't much better. But Trevor's doing his job, and mice carry diseases, so he's protecting me as well. And there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to keep them away, since the house sits on dirt, and they're coming up in places that haven't seen food in ages (the stove, for example. yes, seriously) so it's not as though it's a sign of our being unclean.

In any event, he had caught a mouse, and something had to be done. My first thought was that if I could get him to take the mouse outside (Trevor is an unwillingly indoor cat) I could get him to drop the mouse and then shoo him back into the house. I don't know why I thought this, but leaving the door standing open for a solid fifteen minutes did nothing to seduce him into the wild outsides. After a good bit of coaxing, he put the mouse down to follow me outside.

*sigh*

The mouse was down just long enough to dart under this huge (ugly) monstrosity of an armchair we have. Now, I couldn't move the chair for fear of squashing the mouse, and leaving his remains under there, or breaking part of Trevor, who was now wedged so far under the chair I was convinced he'd gnawed off his own arms and was just throwing them in an attempt to recatch the mouse.

Whatever his tack, it did work, because he did catch the mouse, this time breaking its back so that now instead of running, it was sort of twitching. He picked it up and neatly put it on top of a book that was on the floor (in my defense, this was actually my husband's book) and watched, waiting for it to run. I picked up the book with vague heeby-jeeby like utterings, and tossed the mouse outside, out of the range of any of my family members.

*SHUDDDDDDERRRRRR*

Well, now Trevor's all depressed because I took away his toy, and he's staked out at the area where he last saw the mouse, in the hopes it will return.

And so while I have no mouse ball with which to show you mouse balls, I do have a poem for you. I wrote this four years ago, roughly, when I was doing the morning radio show in NY State. We had a regular Friday segment, in which I would read an "ode". It actually became a pretty popular segment, with people you'd never expect to enjoy the poems (think big, burly construction workers) coming up and complimenting me. Anyway, this was one of those Odes - The "Ode to a Surprise Guest." Enjoy.

After a long week at work, with one day more to go
I was thoroughly exhausted, and fast asleep, you know.
When there, through my comatose state came some sounds -
Thumping and squeaking - was someone invading my grounds?
Were the windows broken into? Did I need to call the cops?
What was the source of those intimidating pops?
I awakened from my slumber, in quite a cranky mood
Mumbling some comments that were more than slightly crude
And there he was - the victim of a feline play attack
There was Trevor pouncing joyfully - with Misha bringing up the back
And the piercing squeaks of Mickey echoed through my little house
For there, in my apartment, was a frightened little mouse
And I quickly debated the consequences of telephoning Jeff
But I thought a rescue call at midnight might result in my own death
Now, lest you think I'm chicken, let me first make one thing clear
I have no fear of animals, be they far or be they near
It's more a fear of leftovers should Trevor get his wish
And stepping on the limp remains of kitty's yummy dish
So into the office with Trevor (he is definitely unhappy about being contained)
And the much better behaved Misha could barely be restrained
I made attempts to coral the mouse into a cardboard box
To free his little furry self by outside trees and rocks
When up the leg of my sweatpants did little Mickey skitter
And I must admit, the attack on me did set me in a twitter
And a very wimpy, girlish squeal came flying from my lips
It's embarrassing to admit it, but I was starting to lose my grip
Then Mickey bravely made his break, and ran for the heater vent
And just in time, for obviously, my sanity was spent
So back into my bed I crawled with eyes glued open wide
But back to sleep I could not fall, no matter how I tried
For Mickey did not go to school - his lesson was not learned
And back again he bravely dared - the stupid mouse returned!
And louder this time were the squeaks, as both cats joined the game
And no matter how I chased them, their fervor went untamed
I couldn't watch that poor small mouse became a kitty snack
The furry little feline hit, the goal; a mouse to whack
So all night long I sat alone (the bedroom doors shut tight
To keep my loving babies out, lest I witness Mickey's plight)
And this morning when I dared to leave the safety of my room
I tiptoed carefully across the floor, in hopes of avoiding the doom
But Mickey was nowhere in sight - is it possible he escaped?
I do not know - and thanks to that more sleepless nights are shaped.

I have a smart big brother.

May God be with our country.