Post 436: we’re adjusting, slowly

I don’t expect my brother and sisters to follow my cats’ schedule. I mean, I have no choice: They know where I live! But my siblings live real lives elsewhere. This is a temporary situation, where my cats stalk them at night, jump on their beds, maybe make a racket hopping onto a favorite windowsill to view the nighttime outside the apartment.

I, on the other hand, expect this constant assault on my sleep. Dougy pounces on my bed, then hops up to walk on me from foot to head, head to foot to let me know it must be time to feed the kitties! (He has a good sense of this mythical time, after all, and it something like what you humans call 3 AM!) Andy just sits on a high place and stares at me. Also an effective strategy since one starts to feel watched when one is, well, watched!

So, struggling out of bed, stepping on the favorite string toy Andy drags around the place and leaves in random places, I begin my day.

You think the shot’s out of focus, but this is a realistic representation of how the world looks when the cats get me up. A “before I can focus my eyes” shot

I’m used to finding Dougy waiting in his favorite salmon-colored tub for the day’s play to begin. He’s always “up” for play, believe it! He’s in kitty paradise with four people willing to play cat games with him. Thanks to the new toys that even Andy likes, the boys eventually tire out and take a nap.

Sounds like a good plan. A nap….

But first, gotta grind some beans and make some industrial-strength coffee to get my plane off the ground. Oh, yeah, and catch Andy to give him his yummy tuna-flavored medicine. At least it’s supposed to be yummy, but I guarantee he makes a face.

Post 358: 11:05 and I haven’t stopped for breakfast…

The day’s out of sync. I not only slept till 4 AM, it’s 11:05 and I haven’t stopped for breakfast.

Dougy woke me up, growly, whining because of the time. That’s Dougy, not me who was growly, whining because of the time! I was content to stay in bed even after I realized it was, by Dougy’s reckoning, “late”!

Andy’d hopped up on the bookcase by my bed at some time in the night, and was content to continue his doze. I pet him a little, rubbed his ears, but he was conked out, not interested in getting up.

2011-01-01 Andy in window and on desk 004

Dougy persisted with me, though. Damn those opposable thumbs! If only Dougy had a set, he could open that cat food can for himself! (And would!) But since he doesn’t, he prowled by my bed making unhappy cat sounds and scratching my bed.

I got up and put wet cat food out for the boys.

Then what? After catching Andy, I gave him his medicine. “Catch” as in “pick up a sleepy cat off the bookcase and carry him into the kitchen where I had a towel to wrap him in and his medicine waiting”. I’ll stick with “catching”. Sounds more athletic and adventuresome than the sad little kidnapping this morning! Even I felt cheated out of something, it was so easy!

Let’s see. Watched the news. Said things at the television since I live with two cats and they never repeat what I say. Played with Dougy because he was pumped. Andy and I were still sleepy, but Dougy kicked into high gear, tore through the house, stopped by Andy and me, crouched in a low pouncing posture to alert Andy and me he wanted interaction from one of us, either one, he didn’t care which!

Andy joined the chase. I dug out some toys. Andy came back to rest, I took over. Dougy was still pumped! Next thing, it was 11:05. I think I’ll stop for breakfast. The boys, in the meantime, have gone back to sleep.

Post 285: straight and narrow

I live by my cats’ habits. That’s a given. Today, though, I deviated, didn’t respond to morning routine the way the boys thought I should.

Well, I did get up and sit on the edge of my bed. I was awake already. Andy hopped up on my bed, “happy-pawed” my pillows, purred, until I touched him on the back. Then he jumped on a box where he likes to watch me when I’m playing like I am asleep. I guess he thought I might go back to bed instead of continue to sit on the edge of it.

Still, Andy clearly felt it was time to feed the kitties: he hopped off the box and gently placed his front paws on my leg, stared sadly for a moment, then took up a vigil at my feet. This is one time his paws and my flesh aren’t connected with claws…! Mostly, he’s a mild cat, but he is fussy about being held, touched. You learn how to gauge the moments where it’s OK or not. The claws generally settle the matter. No claws: Andy’s begging nicely for something!

Dougy started his leg-rub routine till I “invited” him to hop on my bed for a good petting. He was in the mood for food, too, so, two-to-one, I knew I had to put out the chow…or else!

Cats fed, I decided to return to bed. Why not? I can watch the news stretched out in bed just as easily as I can watch it from a chair. Actually, more easily!

I hadn’t counted on the boys’ reaction to deviation from expectations. Andy came back into the bedroom, sat down by my bed, and meowed. Ordinarily, he is a quiet cat, a cat that grabs your hand if he’s upset with you – or just playing! Context lets you know the difference, though the mauling feels pretty much the same for “unhappy” and “playing”.

Dougy hopped up on my bed and meowed, too. He’s more vocal, but rarely meows more than once to let you know he’s there. He checked me out: “Nope! Still breathing…!” That’s to say, he doesn’t have to worry about his next meal. Whew! (Or however you say it in Catinese!)

Andy set up a vigil by the door. Pointed in, he expects me to get out of bed; pointed out (presuming I’m on the edge of my desk waiting for my body to decide it can function in an upright position), he expects me to move into the dining room for breakfast. He was pointed in, clearly unsettled that I wasn’t following routine. Same with Dougy, now back up on my bed, without permission first, though we have a routine where I pat on the mattress and beckon him up.

The kitty tag team made their point: No Deviations From Routine Allowed! I got up, and finished watching the news in the living room, in the glider chair with the ottoman I can’t use because that’s where Dougy likes to sleep, and the light stand with Andy asleep on top.

I posted this photo earlier. I can post it every day, though, because this is morning at this home, every day, without deviation. Or else, by cat decree!

Here they are: Dougy on the ottoman, and Andy stretched out on the side table! The kitties must be fed. Yep. Now we sleep in front of the guy we woke up at 2 AM!

another lazy day

I woke up early this morning. I probably dream all the time, but I rarely remember them. Today I remembered the dream. Yes, another gardening dream!

In the dream, I used a favorite spade, one that belonged to my grandmother, who also gardened. My mother “inherited” it when she and Dad brought Gram up to the house when Gram became unable to care for herself. I still have it. It’s a favorite gardening tool.

The spade slid easily into the perfectly tilled dream soil, which I turned one more time to complete the process of double-digging the garden space in preparation for planting. I love the smell of freshly turned loamy soil! Though I didn’t have this smell strike me in the dream, the pleasant sensation I feel in that circumstance woke me up.

What kind of dream is that? Ha! Not much action. I suppose there is some Freudian significance in digging soil, Mother Earth, but let’s keep our thoughts pure! Gardening dreams are my favorites because I like the effort and sensations of gardening, that little miracle of a planted seed germinating into something that tastes good to eat and is healthy, too.

I got up, fed Dougy and Andy, who were very grateful for the timely food, washed some dishes, heated up some leftover French toast in the microwave, and made some tea. (I forgot to roast coffee beans yesterday, so had none ready to grind today.) I watched “Morning Joe”, amazed that for the second day Mika told Joe “Shut up!” several times, and he shut up several times. Perhaps he reads the comments on their facebook post because the most frequent complaint about Joe is he interrupts everyone all the time.

During “Morning Joe”, both the cats’d found a spot to sleep off chicken-lobster (ugh!) cat food. My little angels looked so sweet and happy, I decided they had the right idea: Go back to bed!

Back to bed I went. I ordinarily don’t benefit from extra sleep, but those extra four hours this morning hit the spot! I don’t remember them, but I woke up from my extra sleep with that happy feeling I get when I have gardening dreams.

barely 9:20 AM, and I’ve done everything for the day

I tell you what, if you get up too early, your day’s over before it starts.

The cat boys woke me at 2-ish this morning. I got up anyway. Dougy made sure I couldn’t slip back into sleep by walking on me, then swishing his tail in my face. Then he jumped off my bed, put his front paws on my mattress, and stuck his face in my face. Cat whiskers get you every time! They tickle, man, they tickle! Andy hangs out by the door. His brother is the wake up maestro of the two, so he lets Dougy do the deed.

OK, I got up. I think the cats thought that meant it was “breakfast for kitties” time. I fooled them. I held out till a little before 3 AM, the usual time they eat. We aren’t starting a 2 o’clock feeding in this household!!! Andy protested; Dougy caught a few z’s. I caught up on some editing on this blog and tried to find a missing video file on my computer. I usually eat breakfast after I feed the boys, but 2 AM is not a time I feel like eating!

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine…!”

Andy and Dougy fed, I had to convince myself I felt like making something for myself for breakfast, something like pancakes or biscuits. I settled for peanut butter toast (with no jelly or jam); a new cereal that looks like someone ran out of a full serving of Cheerios, so they mixed in some granola; coffee; and a special treat of Clementine juice instead of cranberry juice. (Those who know me know I am very enthusiastic about these little Clementine oranges! The juice is a bit more tart than navel orange juice, which I prefer.)

Of course, even though they’d just eaten their breakfast, the boys had to come over and watch me make mine. Hint-hint! Andy tosses in some pathetic starving kitten sounds with his performance, which includes big kitten eyes and opening a cabinet door where, I guess, he’s looking for food. Maybe he’s just annoying me instead.

Regardless, there is a routine. Andy wants what I’m fixing, so I let him sniff it. He recoils in horror that anyone would want Clementine juice or coffee, but seems a bit too interested in the peanut butter toast. I have to pull the interesting foods back fast or have kitty whiskers on them. Ha! I never feed the boys human food, even milk, based on recommendations from their veterinarian, but Andy still begs while Dougy snoozes in the background “just in case”….

Dougy catches some z’s while Andy bugs me for a past “feed-the-kitties” snack.

I used up the last of the roasted coffee beans to make coffee this morning so roasted a batch after I had breakfast. The roast take 21 minutes for the darkness I like, and the little roaster makes a batch good for one large mug of coffee for three and a half days. I just roast one batch at a time because the fire alarms in my apartment are too sensitive. As it is, I turn on ceiling fans, the stove hood vent fan, and open a door to make sure roasting fumes don’t trigger the alarm. Tedious!

The 21 minutes the roast takes works out to be just right for the time I need to wash the dishes, which oftentimes include the previous night’s dishes and cooking vessels. It did this morning. Dirty dishes washed and dried, I start the day with a clean slate. That lasts a short time, of course!

When the coffee roaster completes the roast, the unit needs to cool down before I transfer the coffee beans to a container, then the beans need to rest till the next day to develop their full flavor. By 4 AM, this last business was completed, and I finished my tasks for the day! On to the computer to catch up on YouTube, facebook, and this blog. That’s done and it’s only 9:20 AM.

Tomorrow morning, 3 AM will come at 4 AM, thanks to the return to standard time. I’d love to sleep in that extra hour, but I suspect the cat brothers will wake me up at 2 AM again. They never get it straight: “Spring forward, fall back. Or is it Spring back, fall forward? These humans are crazy! Our stomachs say it’s ‘feed the kitties’ time. Wake him up!”