Crazy Gracie, Shredder of Worlds

Our beautiful cat came to us already named Gracie. And since she was beautiful and the epitome of grace we kept the name. However, Shredder of Worlds might have been a more suitable moniker.

It took about a week for this scratching post to start unraveling. Note that she’s liberated the ping ping balls from their furry coverings.
Gracie laughs in the presence of corrugated cardboard.
For a brief time there were feathers on the end of this stick. Now it boasts only a stub.

She’s figured out how to open the antique hutch in which her snacks are stored, and at least once a week I wake up next to a package of treats.

See the little tooth marks?

Gracie is endlessly fascinating and slightly intimidating. We are kind of in love.

Don’t be fooled by my innocent look.

Peace, people!

The Cat’s Meowapple

Must’ve been some kind of party going on last night.

Hmm. How’d this get from the kitchen counter to the kitchen floor?
Apple? I don’t see any apples?

Gracie isn’t allowed on the kitchen counters. She’s refusing to take responsibility for this apple which has fallen very far from the tree.

Maybe an apple distributor broke in. Kind of like a modern day Johnny Appleseed.

Peace, people.

Sensory Overload

On Saturday afternoon I was minding my own business, sitting on the couch, and playing Words with Friends on my phone. It began as a peaceful activity. Then others intruded on my nirvana.

Studly Doright had a golf game going on the television while simultaneously watching a YouTube video on some aspect of a 1956 or ‘57 Cushman scooter he’s working on for a friend. The cat was engaged in an attempt to free a trio of small balls from a toy.

Gracie is the best kind of crazy.

Between the tv, the video, and the racket the cat was making, I had to have a glass of wine. My coping skills might be a little thin, but at least I have good taste.

Not my glass; not my wine, but isn’t it lovely?

Peace, people!

Happy Birthday, Gracie!

On May 31, 2021, our beautiful Gracie celebrated her second birthday. Now, I hate to admit it, but I was totally unaware that it was the big day until my cat sitter texted me. I’m such an awful mom.

I must’ve included that critical information when we first contracted with the sitter; otherwise, it would’ve escaped me. I’m terrible with all that calendar stuff. (See awful mom note above).

I sang “Happy Birthday” to her, but she was totally unimpressed. Everyone’s a critic these days.

Yes, I’m two. Why do you ask?
Mom, can I have a slumber party? Huh?

They just grow up way too fast, don’t they?

Peace, people!

My Cat Has Questionable Taste

Gracie joined me as I binge watched the original Star Wars trilogy yesterday. She was especially taken with Jabba the Hutt.

I should’ve videoed her from the beginning, but didn’t realize she was watching.

I’ll have to encourage her to love Han Solo, I guess. To me it seems like a no-brainer, but then I’m not a cat.

Peace, people.

Just Wandering in the Garden

I’m no gardener. I have managed to keep four small succulents alive for two years so I might have a green pinkie, but my thumb is more of a dark purple color.

There is a place I go in Tallahassee, though, where I can pretend I’m a gardening gal. I wander about, pulling a flat cart for my purchases even though I know if I buy anything at all it’ll be an item from the gift shop or maybe just another cactus.

The place is Tallahassee Nursery, and all of my gardening dreams come alive there. I have a fantasy in which I get myself locked in at night. I’d have a picnic and a bottle of wine in front of the gift shop cottage and then roam the grounds until midnight when I’d tuck myself into a hammock and drift away beneath the stars. It’s a lovely fantasy.

Alas, I didn’t manage to get locked in, but I took photos of the place so I can daydream from home.

“This patch of sunlight is all MINE! Find your own!”
T-Rex not only practices social distancing (not by choice, but he IS a vicious carnivore after all), but also wears a mask. Who’s a good boy?
Just look at Ms. Flamingo’s flip flops!
Don’t be koi…
Hi, Biscus!

I adore this place even if they won’t let me spend the night.

Peace, people.

Act Naturally

Those of you who’ve read my first novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, will get a huge kick out of this gift my son designed for me.

Natural Jugglers of America. I don’t THINK the organization actually exists, but it’d be cool if it did.

I squealed when he gave me the shirt. I’m going to wear it the next time I drink from the Scout’s Honor logo mug my daughter commissioned to celebrate the publishing company name we coined for the book.

My cat, Scout, was the inspiration for the design.

Do I have the coolest kids, or what?

Peace, people.

Half a Cat: A Furry Tail

Gracie is upset that I won’t allow her to go outside on the screened-in porch this afternoon. It’s an 80° day and the sun is shining, but there’s a breeze blowing the pollen around, and my allergies just can handle it.

So Gracie is making do with the next best thing.

That tail starts flicking about now and again leading me to believe there might be a lizard teasing the cat from outside the window. This cat leads a really tough life.

Peace, people!