domestic scenes

Twofer Tuesday: a peek into my day

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

This morning I pulled some manuscript/project boxes out of the closet to see if there’s anything in there worth salvaging for my next writing endeavor. (My little writer brain has to have something to noodle on, so while I await my critique group’s feedback on my work-in-progress, I’ve started thinking about what comes next). Well, those boxes proved irresistible to the cats.

Marcel claiming his literary territory

Later this afternoon, Emma and I went out on the trails. Although it was warm enough for me to wear shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, there were still a few patches of snow along the way. We stopped running so that Emma could do her thing.

I laughed as she scooped snow with her snout and dug holes with her paws and slid down the slope on her tummy.

Emma + snow = happiness

Emma-versary

/ Tracy Abell

Exactly one year and one day ago Emma came to stay. Not a whole lot has changed since then, except that we still haven’t mastered not-blurry photos of her AND elder-dog Zoey now has one more “damn millennial” to shake her head at AND cat-brothers Loki and Marcel have mostly put aside their differences to join forces against the high-energy pupster AND strangers now stop Zippy and me on the street to inform us that Emma is so very cute.

As if we hadn’t noticed.

 

Sunday Confessional: So.Much.Stuff.

/ Tracy Abell

Today I was looking in our linen closet, and unearthed this shirt:

 

 

 

 

Neither Zippy nor I can remember which son owned it. I’m guessing it was Wildebeest, but am not 100% sure. Why do we still have it? Why is it taking up space in the home? For that matter, why are we holding onto half the crap in our lives?

The good news is, I haven’t come across any Napoleon Dynamite moon boots.

Still standing

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Wildebeest, Zebu, Tracy, and Zippy on this New Year’s eve.
It’s been a hard year on the planet, but we’re still upright.
There’s definitely strength in numbers, and I’m grateful we have each others’ backs.

Happy New Year to you and yours.
Here’s hoping we kick every ass that needs kicking in 2018.

Thankful Thursday: box-of-Marcel edition

/ Tracy Abell

We’re headed to Zippy’s sister’s home for a belated Christmas gathering. I was wrapping some gifts in my writing room when I looked up to see Marcel wedging himself in the box of ribbons. I carried the box out to show Zippy, and asked him to take a photo.

That face is a Christmas miracle all its own.

Sweet bird you are

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

It’s been dry and windy, and this morning I noticed finches hopping around in the nearly-empty bird bath. As I filled the watering can I use to replenish the bath, I noticed other finches perched on the dogs’ water bowl that sits on the deck.

The birds were thirsty.

Soon after I went back inside, birds arrived. These finches (House and Gold), juncos, chickadees, doves, flickers, and magpies all came to drink at the community pool. In fact, so many birds came to visit throughout the day that I just cleaned and refilled the bath again.

Lucky me. And I mean that.

When you have seen one ant, one bird, one tree, you have not seen them all.
~ E. O. Wilson

Thursday funny

/ Tracy Abell

After I finished my hoop-dancing session this morning, Zippy walked into the kitchen. I’d blasted lots of funky songs from my playlist and the final one was “Overpowered by Funk” by The Clash. As I danced over to pour myself coffee, I asked my mate, “Are you feeling overpowered by funk?”

Zippy said, “I think I’m immune to funk.”

“No,” I cried. “That’s just wrong! How could anyone be immune to funk?! That’s blasphemy!”

“Well,” Zippy conceded. “I do like Roger Clinton more than most people.”

“George Clinton!” I corrected. “You like George Clinton.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zippy said. “Roger Clinton is Bill Clinton’s brother.”

Roger Clinton

George Clinton:              Parliament Funkadelic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No offense to Zippy, but there’s no mistaking Roger’s music for George’s.

#Caturday story

/ Tracy Abell

(The curtain opens to a calm scene. Woman reads in bed with Loki (black cat) on lap and Marcel (white cat) against her leg.)

Loki’s tail begins to whip Marcel in the head, which Marcel can ignore for only so long.

Marcel: CHOMP!

Loki: YEOW!

Woman: Come on, you two. Really?

This random image feels very apropos for today

/ Tracy Abell

I woke this morning to a long to-do list. The bad news is that I haven’t checked everything off the list. Not even close. (I ran, I walked Emma, I figured out some characterization and plotting stuff for my work-in-progress while walking with my dog, I vacuumed one room, I scrapbooked a whole bunch of photos and then cleared off the dining room table that’s been covered with photos and scrapbooking materials for the past couple months, I took advantage of our recent rainstorms and weeded for 30 minutes, and I put out clean towels for Wildebeest who will be back home tonight. YES, IT’S HUGELY GRATIFYING TO LIST THE CHECKED-OFF ITEMS HERE!) So, while I didn’t accomplish all I’d hoped to accomplish, I kept very busy today.

Being busy kept me offline. That’s really good news. Because the one time I took a breather and checked Twitter, I discovered that Agent Orange has been swinging his tiny manhood at North Korea.

Who cares about an unfinished to-do list when a psychopath is threatening nuclear war??

Learning from the master

/ Tracy Abell

But if you really want to learn about life, get a cat.
The way I think people should relate to animals is with a cat.
Because the world is his.
~  James Cromwell

Marcel looking past me on March 4, 2016

As I create this post, I’m perched on the edge of my chair so as to not interrupt Marcel’s nap. I briefly left the room and returned to find him curled up on the seat. The world truly does belong to him.

Sunday Confessional: I just want a couple nice rugs

/ Tracy Abell

We moved into our home twenty years ago this weekend. We bought the house from the original owners and, in addition to the roof and walls, we also purchased a few furnishings from them. We still have one of the large braided rugs (the other three rugs have gone to the big loom in the sky), and it is way past due for retirement.

Over the years, six dogs, five cats, and four humans have walked on this rug (and that’s not counting the orginal owners’ years of use). I don’t even want to imagine what’s trapped between the braids. I very much want a new rug and have spent a huge amount of time searching stores and online for something decent that we can afford. I’ve already returned two (we also need to replace a tired wool rug in the living room) after the dye came off on our hands.

I realize that my rug search qualifies as a small-potatoes-problem, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could summon a Rug Fairy.

 

A room with a furry view

/ Tracy Abell

Yesterday I moved my writing desk from the living room into my weight room / standing desk room / ginormous whiteboard room. The animals are all a bit confused by the change, and are taking turns hanging out with me. Zoey and Emma were just underneath the desk where Zoey quivered in fright because of thunder while Emma slept on my feet.

This is Marcel from earlier in the day. Right after this photo was taken, he noticed his tail and started chasing it. Confession: I have yet to look away from a cat chasing his tail. I’m dialed into those feline hijinks for the duration, and will watch as long as the cat continues to act the fool.

The change in venue feels good for my writerly brain and psyche, but so far, the animal distractions are more than I bargained for.