Cat Bell

The other red-head

The good news is that Bill finally got himself a new car.  Well, new to him, it's actually a used car. At any rate it was well past time.  He'd hung on to his red mustang convertible for about 16 years.  He loved that car.  At first I wasn't happy about him having a 2 door convertible since we had a six year old and an eight year old at the time, plus I'm not a "wind in my hair" kind of girl. Battling the wind in my contacts, eating unknown critters that flew into my open mouth ( undoubtedly from screaming the speed limit was NOT 110 mph or other useful but unheeded advice ) and wasting perfectly good air-conditioning drove me nuts. Plus folding up my 5'9" frame into a pretzel shape getting in and out of that car was a pain.  But he loved it and a wise friend of mine told me it was better to have him rubbing on a red car than a red-headed woman.  So he got the car.  Although after watching him take car of his car ( not his thing) I soon realized I'd saved some woman a lot of grief. You're welcome woman.

this cat is named Bill,  I'm pretty sure.

Enter the new used car.    Enter a new problem.   After 16 years the mustang had become our ( me and the kids) version of a cat bell for warning the birds in the feeder.  Since you can hear it turn the corner 2 blocks away it was standard practice in our house - particularly the summer time to yell out "HE'S HOME", which was the universal signal for look like you've accomplished something of worth today so as not to expose our long practice of movie/nap time after lunch, which sometime extended to movie/nap time after movie/nap time after lunch. Over the years we had various versions of the cat bell , for instance one year he bought a pair of exercise shoes that squeaked. Not on purpose like you see toddlers wear but oh my god  just as annoying.  I hate those things by the way. But his shoes came in useful, especially to teenagers who were suppose to be studying or asleep.  When one of the kids finally revealed their secret to me I cracked up , and then of course used it to my own advantage.  Waste not, want not.  So now not only is the dog completely mystified that Bill suddenly appears at the backdoor with no trumpet of arrival we're all caught off guard.  Today I passed him in our own cove and thought who is that nut waving furiously at me.  oh, my nut!  Time to find a new cat bell.  The floor is now open for suggestions. 

More Dead Pet Stories - Tom

Sadly I have more of these than I can comfortably share.  You know, statute of limitations and all. But this one I just remembered and thought some of my more twisted readers ( like all of you) might be able to relate.   or not.

My sister has a tender heart.  She loved all of her sweet pets with fierce passion.  I, on the other hand, loved them from say, the backyard.  I love animals but hate animal hair, saliva, litter boxes, pet food, touching them when I can feel stuff OTHER than fur, their breath, and smacking noises they make with their lips.  [ remarkably I'm still married - feel free to draw comparisons]   Kim loved her cat, Tom.  Side note: All of our cats were named Tom.  Yes, all of them. Something my mother insisted on.  I never asked)

my little sister and one of many Toms

 One evening my mom , sister and I were coming home late from who knows where and as our car topped the hill right in front of our house the car lights revealed a very sad, very dead crumbled furry form in the street.  Trying to protect Kim's sensitive side, mom and I locked eyes and silently agreed we'd take care of this without her.   We pulled into the driveway and after Kim was otherwise engaged mom and I snuck out to take care of old Tom.  Well, it was in January and very cold.  Like COLD.  As we approached old dead Tom we saw that although he was indeed dead his tail was still sticking straight up in the air.  And that was kind of the beginning of unrecoverable giggles.  Which was how we always handled sad situations.  This method did NOT work at my grandmother's funeral.  We drug Tom off the street by his tail and tried to find a place to bury him.  The ground was so frozen it was impossible for us to make a dent in the dirt.  What to do, what to do.     

We decided to stick him in a bag and throw him in the backseat of the car and on the pretense of some errand find a place to take care of him.   Mom started driving around looking.   After a few minutes  Mom looked at me with a strange expression on her face , I said "What?"  She said " did you fart?"   ( not something the women in my family ever did much less admitted to ) and I said " NO, I thought it was you!  Mom said " It's the damn cat". Dead frozen bodies and warm cars.      We could not stop laughing.  Mom said," oh god, it's getting worse - I can't take it any more.  Kelly, grab the bag , roll down your window and when I round this next corner you fling him as far as you can".      Which I did.    And for years afterward every time we drove through that turn we locked eyes and smiled.   

There have been moments since then that I have been tempted to bag up certain individuals and see how my flinging skills have fared.  With just the right amount of speed .................

Page 1 - Toaster Instructions

The instruction book for my new demon-free toaster is frightening. and funny.  I don't know many people that can stand in their kitchen and roar with laughter over all the importance stressed for a seemingly unimposing appliance.  But I do. [ Bill , shaking his head]

It's seven pages long with space on the seventh page for note taking.  Now, I'm worried that if I don't take notes while I'm reading this I may miss something really really important.  Of the 16 basic safety precautions listed on page 1 I'm already panicking about number 3. 

This appliance should not be used by OR near children, or individuals with certain disabilities.

 Near, really.  How near? Can they be sitting at the kitchen table? It's close.  I'll set it up in the living room just in case.  I wouldn't want to invalidate my warranty.  And the dog will love it.   And "certain" disabilities.  That's kinda vague.  What kind?  Like my mom was bi-polar, maybe she shouldn't toast on the down swing.   Of course she wouldn't have anyway.  She would have cried about the sad toaster, and the children that assemble them in china or wherever ( I wonder how close they were to it)  and then said there was no reason to live without toast, and then the next day toast all the bread and throw a party.  She was fun that way.  

Then there's number 4 which suggests if you're having problems return it to the store for...........an examination.          Yeah, I can't wait to see the look on Ray's face at Costco when I ask him to examine my toaster.    

Or how about number 7, the use of accessory attachments not recommended AND may cause injury.
What accessories?  I feel like I've missed out on the amazing world of toasters.  I can't even imagine what accessory you'd add. Maybe a branding iron ....... or .... no nothing.



the James Dean of bakery products



Do not place toaster in a heated oven.              rats.

To avoid possibility of fire ( so there IS a possibility) do not leave toaster unattended during use.  This damn thing is akin to a gremlin.  I'm not sure I should have one.  I'm not sure I'll even be sleeping at night knowing it's lurking in the kitchen just waiting to kill me. 

And there's a whole page dedicated to the shady side of toaster pastries.  They're like unruly teenagers or drunk uncles.

But my favorite is under the heading "Special Cord Set Instructions"  which after a lengthy explanation of polarized plug ( one blade is wider than the other) ----that's exactly what it said , which of course I would have found out after wrestling the plug into various yoga positions and making wild jabs at the wall outlet because I won't bother to put on my reading glasses to see the difference. ( ahhhhhh- a disability)  and ends with

" Do not attempt to defeat this safety feature"

Challenge accepted.      

Birthday Toaster - the story, but not a book, yet

So, I got a toaster today.  How this went down.

Bill: What do you want for your birthday?

Me: I don't know. What do you think I want for my birthday?    ( just after a long conversation about the new iPad hitting the market and how cool it is and how it has the new iPhoto app that would be so useful since I love photography and how sad I was that my iPad isn't able to use that particular app)

Bill: Well, you need to pick something  ( because he's on a time frame of some made up universe somewhere)

Me: Hey, did you ever get your birthday gift?  You know, you suppose to get new golf clubs and since we're on an imaginary timer somewhere you're choices are now golf clubs or a kitty.  You have 24 hours.

Bill: I'm waiting until spring before getting the clubs, don't you worry about it. 

Me: Kitty or clubs.  24 hours. 

Bill: Do you want a birthday gift?

Me: Hmmmm, ( as we're driving past Best Buy)  oh, oh , I know how about one of those cases for my iPhone that saves it from certain destruction? Life something......... iLife.. no, no, that's not it....ummm.

Bill:  Great.  ( whipping the car around and pulling into BB) ( silently crossing task off his list)

After picking out the phone case - WHICH IS AWESOME, I can now stay in the shower all day long and be current on all my email, facebook, etc. AND use it as a weapon if anyone tries to sneak up on me while otherwise engaged, so win-win., I walk past the toasters and say. "and a toaster"



Not possessed, as far as I know.



Bill: I am not buying you a toaster for your birthday.

Me: But I want one, you know I'm at war with our currently possessed toaster .  ( Beelzebub)

Bill:  I think it's operator error.

Me: Only if pushing the button down is wrong.

Bill:  I'm not buying you a toaster for your birthday.

Me: I want a toaster.

Bill: ughhh, whatever - get the toaster.

Me: hmmm, let's go to Costco in case this toaster is also possessed by demons it will be easier to take back.

Bill: Get in the car woman.

(at Costco)

Me: Look there's the same toaster 30.00 cheaper here.  I win!

Bill:  You look like you'd like to have a juicer too. ( Costco must lace their carts with crack)

Me:  Sure , I'll juice all my  Girl Scout Cookies - it says it can juice anything.

Bill: Lord help me.     -------- Get in the car woman.

And that's how I got a toaster.             And a juicer.           But not an iPad.    Yet. 

It is my birthday month.