And we’re back!

June was a busy month!

Sabu got her new Summer ‘do –

She was humiliated with the bows, but she’s sooooo much cooler now. A little razor burn has been bothering her, but today she’s doing much better. She looks so small! I need to get a new harness in a smaller size – I had no idea her fluff added so much to her girth!

Revy developed a new strange habit –

As if mauling anything made of rubber wasn’t bad enough, Revy found this (unfinished) blanket and has been dragging it around, chortling softly. He drags it into the kitchen, lays on it for a few seconds, drags it under the table, into his basket, etc. etc. etc. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but it’s strange to watch. I think he needs to get out more…

I ripped out half the carpet in Towanda and am thrilled with the results – you can read all about it over at Travels with Towanda. Awana and I have designated July RV Renovation Month.

The last alpaca was sheared on Thursday and it feels like I’ve been running ever since. Mo got a call from a woman who needs her five alpacas sheared and it looks like we’ll be taking our little show on the road.

Mom’s neighborhood yard sale is the second weekend in July and I hope to get pictures this time – it’s always a hoot.

July is shaping up to be a very busy month.

In news relevant to this blog, the narc (hereinafter referred to as Captain Bligh) is living the Good Life, sailing up to Canada with friends, where he will pick up his boat and spend a few weeks sailing around and having a wonderful time. How is that fair? Shouldn’t he be covered with boils or something?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled with my life right now, but it just doesn’t seem fair that he’s going on as if I never existed, all the lies he told me being proven by his very actions (I needed to give him more money, more time, more support for his hobbies.)

Maybe he’ll be lost at sea…

 

 

A Mean Drunk

Revy is feelin’ Irish tonight –

The whiskey is all gone, so I offered him some rum. Sadly, he’s a Mean Drunk.

He’s racing around, bouncing off the walls and knocking shit down all over the place. When is he going to get fat and lazy? Has my life been reduced to Cat Blogging?

Apparently so, because in related news, “Grandma” wants me to bring him along on my trip home next month. She has no idea what’s in store. Whatever happens it should make for some good Blog Fodder…

 

Another battle lost…

Revy, being a smarter-than-average cat, has learned a new trick. You see, he has very definite preferences when it comes to dry food – he only wants Purina Kitten Chow. Not the organic, no colors added, all natural ingredients kibble. Not the store brand kibble. ONLY Purina Kitten Chow. The dog has had more than her fair share of rejected cat food mixed in with her Science Diet (not that she cares – she’ll eat anything) and I have agreed to feed the cat what he prefers in the interest of not giving the dog the runs.

The other day the store was out of PKC and I didn’t want to make another stop, so I brought home a bag of Purina CAT Chow. It’s not the same, obviously. In fact, it’s a personal affront if you’re Revy the RV Cat.

He was completely out of his preferred kibble, so I poured the new kibble into his bowl (which sits atop the counter in the back room. This will become relevant in a minute) and stood back, awaiting his judgement.

One sniff and he gave me the Look of Death.

“They were out of Kitten Chow. You’ll have to make do until I go to the store again. Suck it up, Princess,” I said and walked away.

He scooped all the kibble out onto the counter and ran in to tell me his bowl was empty. Again.

I put the kibble back and told him it wouldn’t kill him to eat something different for a couple of days.

He scooped it out again. I put it back. He scooped it out. And so on for two days.

On the evening of the third day I noticed the counter was clean and the bowl was empty. Revy was hungry so I filled his bowl again. He gave me the Death Stare but I was unmoved. I walked away, figuring he’d been eating it and probably wouldn’t starve before I could get to the store.

A little while later, I was sitting on the couch knitting a hat when I heard crunching noises. A quick look around revealed that the dog was not in the room. More crunching noises.

I heaved a big sigh and took myself off to the back room where I beheld an amazing sight.

Revy was perched on the counter, a mess of dry kibble all around, his empty dish behind him. Sabu was sitting in front of the counter, looking attentively at the cat. If that doesn’t strike fear into the heart of a dog owner, I don’t know what will!

Revy gave me the Death Stare, reached out his little white paw, flung a single cat kibble onto the floor and sat back to watch the show. Sabu pounced on the kibble, crunched it down in two bites, sat again and looked expectantly at the cat.

Right. That explains why the counter was so clean – seems Sabu has been putting her front feet up there and licking the counter, scraping all the dried kibble up and licking out Revy’s bowl. All with full agreement from that damned cat! How long has this been going on? Why did I not notice sooner? WTF?

You know what I did? I went to the store and came home with a bag of PKC, that’s what I did, because evidently everything else is only fit to feed to the dog. What’s next?

 

Picking my battles…

Watchin’ da birds!

Did some re-arranging of the kitchen counter and now there’s a tiny clear space in front of the window. I don’t really want to see Revy’s butt next to the clean dishes and made the mistake of trying to reason with him.

“Dude. Get off the counter.”

Busy watching birds. Shut up.

“You have six other windows to watch the birds, each of which now has a platform for your viewing pleasure and is nowhere near the clean dishes. Get down.”

Fuck you. Watch me rub my ass on your clean dishes.

“Fine. I’m getting the spray bottle!”

Whatever. I’m going. Bitch.

Battle won!

Three minutes later:

Ha ha! Stupid human!

I give up! The dishes will just have to be put away in a timely manner because Revy will not be denied his place at any window he chooses. I lost count of the number of times I picked him up and tossed him onto the floor. There were expletives. My voice rose in volume until the dog left the room. He will not be deterred.

I woke on Friday with a pain in my chest. Couldn’t remember what I might have done on Thursday, but it was quite sore. Is this the first sign of a heart attack? I was worried.

It was a little better on Saturday, but still very tender, a deep, muscular pain. I hadn’t been lifting or moving heavy objects. Maybe I should go to the doctor?

Felt quite a bit better on Sunday and when I was standing in the shower, batting away Revy’s paws (he wants to play in the water from the shower head and stands on the door so he can reach – funny if you don’t live here) and I recalled an incident from Thursday night –

I was laying in bed on my back reading. There is a cupboard above the bed and I leave the end door open so I can stash the alarm clock in the place least likely to get it knocked down in the night. Revy dashed into the cupboard, rummaged around a bit and launched himself back out again. He landed (you might have seen this coming) squarely on my chest, all four feet coming down with the force of a pile driver, whooshing all the air from my lungs. He then ran off into the other room, unconcerned that I was gasping for air.

Or was that his plan? Is his murder campaign proceeding on schedule? You would think he would figure out how to get out of the trailer before killing off the only resident with opposable thumbs. Or is simple torture his long term plan?

 

Monday Morning Madness

My eyes snapped open before the alarm this morning. I couldn’t breathe. My heart started to race as I tried to drag in some air around a huge obstruction. Raising my hands to my throat, I encountered a mass of fur that wasn’t there when I went to sleep. It felt like a hairy snake and immediately began to purr. Seems Revy decided to sleep across my neck, sprawled out with his belly resting right on top of my windpipe.

This shouldn’t have been possible, seeing as how I’m normally a side sleeper, but obviously the new bed is comfortable enough that I turn onto my back at the same hour Revy decides to start his wake-up routine. Threat of suffocation is, evidently, the latest in a long line of tactics designed to steal my sleep and get kibble into his bowl in the least amount of time. Guess this means I better not drink before bed or maybe I won’t wake up in the morning.

Spring is in the air and it was a very busy weekend. Thursday, Friday and Saturday saw me awake at 0530. Wide awake and listening to the birds outside. Revy is beside himself with joy. Apparently, his training methods are finally paying off and breakfast is being served on time.

I sewed up a bed for the dog, low in the center with a soft, raised edge, something I thought I could use as a training tool to make her be still instead of barking and having a fit when someone approaches the trailer. You know, train her to act like a Real Dog? As you can see, it was not received as planned:

Revy finds it perfect – a fort to defend against canine insurgents, a bathing platform and soft bed to sprawl upon after racing around like a maniac. The dog has been exiled to whatever small space she can find:

The good news is that the furniture is finally arranged to my liking and the silver insulation has been removed from the windows, letting in the beautiful Spring sunshine. Of course, the brisk Spring breezes now have easier access, but one has to take the good with the not-so-good, no?

 

 

And it just keeps coming…

I called the office yesterday and told them I wasn’t coming in – the roads were just too dangerous and the sidewalks weren’t much better, what with the crazy drivers sliding all over the place. I am so thankful I park off the street! The final tally from yesterday:

Maybe another half inch fell before it stopped for the night. The freezing rain started yesterday about 4 PM and now there’s a 1/2″ crust of ice over everything. Fun times!

Revy is not at all bothered by the snow, being an inside cat. In fact, I think he rather enjoys the fact that it’s so light outside, even at night. He spends hours in his perch looking out the back window:

The ducks are still around, although they aren’t walking to and fro as usual. The pond has a layer of ice on it but isn’t frozen like it was during the last Arctic Episode:

It’s been a very quiet weekend. I made spaghetti sauce and cup after cup of tea while watching “Bones” on Netflix. How did I not know about this show? Haven’t gotten to the vacuuming yet, but have been working on a knitting project. The sound of icicles falling off the trailer is a little startling still.

Sabu is having a terrible day. She LOVES the snow but this ice thing is just not her idea of a good time. She’s heavy enough that she falls through the crust and she refuses to poop on top of the snow/ice. Finally found a sheltered spot under a tree and now she’s napping. This was the scene yesterday:

I took her outside while I shoveled snow off the patio and this was her reaction to me telling her it was time to come back inside. A light snow was falling, she had ice balls in her feet and lower legs, but she wanted to stay outside anyway. Silly dog. Felt like shit making her come inside, but what could I do?

All is well, warmer temps are on the way and this will all be gone by Monday, I’m sure.

How’s your weekend going? Have any weather-related tales to tell?

 

Aaannnnnddd…We’re Back!

The weekend went well. Ran full out for three days, but it was worth it in the end. The Spin-In went well and I finally got my entry into the longest thread contest – it’s this Crazy Thing that spinners do where we’re all given a set weight of a certain fiber and whoever can spin the longest two-ply thread wins. There is a cash prize and bragging rights for a year 🙂

How do y’all feel about writing contests? A woman I do Internet Stuff for is having a short story contest – 1,000 words or less and it must have a dog in it. I’m thinking about posting the details here because so many of you are writers. What say you?

Propane ran out at 0300 this morning. I was putting off getting the tanks re-filled until after work today. Poor decision on my part. Luckily the frigid temps the weathertards are predicting don’t arrive until tonight. Unluckily, after the furnace woke me trying to cycle on, Sabu and Revy were UP for the day. I had a hard time convincing them that the propane place doesn’t open until 0500 and we could sleep until then. Really. Couple more hours, ‘k? They were having none of it, the trailer smelled of propane anyway and we were up. Sigh.

And because I’m outta time, a gratuitous cat pic:

 

 

A little slice of life ’round here

Getting used to the “new” camera. Strange that it can shoot video in low light but not stills, but that’s a post for another day. This is what the evenings look like around here –

After they’re done wrestling I go around and pick up all the stuff they knocked down. Sigh. It’s a bit wearing, but it’s also a lot of fun to watch. They’re the very best of friends and I wish they could go outside together to really rip it up.

Today marks my one year anniversary! At 11:45 AM on January 20, 2013 I drove away from the narc’s house with the last of the stuff I couldn’t live without. I have lived one year under my own roof without the influence of the narc on my everyday routine. The video above would not have been possible while living with the narc, as joy was not permitted unless it was his own.

So many wonderful things have happened over the past year and I have been so blessed in every way. The narc was truly a millstone around my neck, holding me back from using my full potential to create the life that would enable me to be happy and fulfilled.

To all of you in abusive relationships: there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Be brave. Throw off your shackles and walk into the light. It’s hard. It sucks. It’s scary. But it’s worth every hardship to live a life free of abuse.

Life is good! 27 irons in the fire, all of them glowing brightly, lighting my path to happiness. Thank you all for joining me on this journey 🙂

 

Can I get a nap?

Minus the Holiday music, this what nighttime sounds like around here –

I wish I was kidding.

I thought this little problem had been solved when I chanced upon an unlikely combination of a little wood crate atop a plastic bin placed in front of the back window where Revy eats. He moved right into the crate and laid there all evening and into the night, patiently staring out the window. He allowed me to sleep through the night and I awoke Monday morning refreshed, sense of humor restored.

I may have shared my cleverness with a couple of people out of sheer joy caused by having an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Obviously that was a BIG mistake.

Monday evening shaped up to be much like Sunday and I was hopeful of getting more hours of peaceful slumber. Revy had been up torturing the dog and then retired to his crate in the back room and I settled down for a long night’s sleep, smug at how the whole Revy Issue had been resolved.

I finally gave up on sleeping at 0500 Tuesday morning. Revy’s evening napping had paid off and he was ready to Par-Taaaayyyyy! Fuck.

Tuesday evening I tried to wear him out, even encouraging Sabu to chase him around a bit. He retired to his crate in the back room, cozy and content.

I finally gave up on sleep at 0415 Wednesday morning. The whole trailer reeked of the vinegar water I’d been forced to spray as that damned cat jumped on the counter; tried to uproot the plants; clawed on the screen door, ottoman, storage baskets, rug and couch; fished my shoes out of their hiding place so he could rip the insoles out; splashed his water bowl in the bath sink and took everything small enough for him to carry out of the kitchen sink, stampeding it into the back room.

Last night I locked him into the back room when he wouldn’t settle down by 2300. He banged the door, howled and knocked shit around all night long. All night. I don’t know if I got more or less sleep. I did not get out of bed until the alarm went off, however, hopefully not rewarding him for his bad behavior with breakfast.

He may find himself outside in the rain if I don’t get sleep soon.

Just shoot me now.

 

Existential Crisis?

Every morning Revy and I have a routine. I take a shower. I open the door and grab a towel to dry off before getting out of the shower.* As soon as the door is open, Revy bounds in and sits between my legs, one paw on one of my feet. He sits there, very still, until I finish with the towel and step out. And then he does this:

He sits and stares at the North facing wall of the shower. Sometimes for an hour. When he comes out, he’s wet from the shower floor, but very cheerful and wanting to be petted.

Is he getting orders from outer space? Communing with the water droplets? Hearing noises in the wall? I just don’t get it…

* Getting as dry as possible inside the shower stall is the best way to avoid wet spots on the floor later. As you can see, the bath mat is covered with catnip – not fun to brush off before putting on socks and since no one but me seems to think using the vacuum is a good idea, it just makes more work. The basket was intended for hanging storage, but Revy fell in love at first sight and now he’s busily tearing it apart, one little shred of willow at a time.