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Welcome Home

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At the end of June, kidney failure claimed my darling kitty. He’d been my companion through some trying times, and as pets do, loved me unconditionally through them. Including DD1 and DD2 that he was teaching how to pet him properly.

I was not ready to get another cat, but our remaining kitty was suddenly quite lonesome as DH and I work all day and the girls are in daycare. Lonely to the point of launching himself through the house the moment someone came home to greet them, and then sticking to them like glue for the rest of the night.

We decided to welcome another addition to our family, and our first stop was the Humane Society. I was originally looking for a kitty who was a couple of years old but still liked children. Our search was going poorly when a co-worker told me about a friend of hers with kittens.

I wasn’t sure I could tolerate kitten antics, but of course, a few kitten pictures later and we were deciding it was fate as we made arrangements to go out and see them. There is nothing quite like kitten silliness to bring a smile to your face.

DH and DD1 originally wanted the grey one, but we agreed to go out and meet them.

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These have to be the healthiest, most robust “barn” kittens I’ve ever seen. The little girl wanted nothing to do with us, but both boys were pretty friendly. After a few minutes, the orange one rubbed up against DD2 and let her pet him. Over the next half hour, he climbed over the girls, played with them, and let them pet him.

He came home with us.

I am surprised how much he loves to cuddle. I had thought a barn cat would be standoffish, but he cries to get picked up. And he’ll cuddle into the crook of your arm, on your lap, on your chest . . . wherever he can find a spot!

While I wasn’t sure I was emotionally ready for another kitty, it’s amazing how quickly your heart opens up when you have a little ball of fluff purring happily on your lap.

I still my miss my kitty a great deal, but kitten antics can’t help but make me smile.

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Lessons from my Fitbit

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Like so many people, (over 20 million devices sold as of May 2015) I, too, have succumbed to the Fitbit craze.

After wearing the device for a couple months, there are several things I’ve learned.

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Desk Job Does NOT Equal Steps – During the work day, I get most of my steps walking to and from my car. Other than that, there’s a lot of sitting. Maybe the occasional walk to the bathroom (where I then sit). Or the stroll to a meeting. Where I then sit.

Buzzing me every hour because I haven’t hit the minimum hourly steps is annoying. Yes, I know I’ve been sitting here for an hour and a half. I also wish I wasn’t trapped in this meeting.

Not so sure about the whole treadmill desk thing. And, looking at the price tag on them, I don’t see my company springing for one anytime soon. Unless, of course, we can justify it with some sort of cost savings initiative. Maybe they’ll link my laptop’s power supply to the treadmill.

Of course, there is also the human hamster ball, complete with plans on how to make one yourself. I can see that going over well with corporate America.

 

Reading and Writing are Not the Most Athletic Hobbies – Not trading my home desk or my comfy reading recliner for the human hamster ball, however.

 

Owning a Fitbit Does Not Magically Make One Love Athletic Hobbies – How I wish it did! Still hate jogging, still love reading.

 

Simply Owning a Fitbit Does Not Confer Fitness – Not that I thought it would, but it would’ve been nice.

 

One Cannot Log Steps When One Forgets – Their Fitbit in the bathroom, at the charging station, in the bottom of their drawer. Although, sometimes I wonder if it’s my subconscious at work. Trying to trick me into thinking I took more steps than I did. The weekly e-mail telling you your “progress” however, never forgets how few steps you took. And that day I forgot to wear it isn’t going to make up for the 30,000 steps I’m missing this week.

 

Amazing How few “steps” that 30 minutes on the elliptical produces. – I guess you’re supposed to be concentrating on the workout and trying to go fast, rather than concentrating on the story on your Kindle or how you can jam a book in the book holder and turn the pages while your arms go back and forth.

 

None of Your Friends Will “Friend” You on the Fitbit App – Because they’re all working the same desk job and enjoying the same recliner and aren’t ready to admit to you how few steps they’re taking. Not that you want them to friend you, because then they’ll see how little you’re doing!

Suburban Horror (Off-Topic)

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As I was folding clothes, my oldest child points out the patio window.

“Momma, what’s that?”

Understand that this is the child that will point out sticks, ants, leaves, flowers, whatever to get me to stop what I’m doing. Once she has my attention, she’ll use it as a segue into me not doing whatever chore I need to get done and playing with her.

Crafty kid.

And it works.

So well, in fact, that I have three weeks worth of laundry to get through and a desperate need to get it done as my sock drawer is awfully low.

But I go over anyway, and I have to swallow back the nausea.  There, on my back patio, are squirrel bits. Some paws (yes, paws *shudder*), a couple tufts of fur . . . I couldn’t look any more as I was reminded of this garish scene in an early Laurie Hamilton book.

“So mommy, what it is?” asks my daughter, her nose pressed against the glass.

And like any good parent, I lie. “Looks like some bird was cleaning out their nest. Kind of like you need to clean your room. Oh, and take your pants I folded with you.”

After a bit more dialogue, she concedes and goes to put her pants away while I scurry off to get DH.

DH agrees. Yup. Squirrel paws. And … other… bits. He thinks it’s related to the hawk nest we saw in our backyard.

I live in suburbia. Not the city, okay, but not the country. I should not have squirrel . . . parts . . . on my back patio. And no, it doesn’t matter that I kill characters in my stories from time to time. Sometimes violently.

That’s different. Totally.

 

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He just looks innocent.