Now that I’m getting up a little after 5:00 SOME mornings, to go to the trainer, I seem to be waking up a little after 5:00 MOST mornings, whether I need to go to the trainer or not. Which is sort of hideous and yet sort of convenient. It’s 6:50 a.m. now and I’ve already cleaned the litter box, vacuumed, fed everyone, made coffee, given a pill to that demon Iris and given Edsel his chondroitin. Also, whose brilliant idea was it to get three pets in a 16-month span, so they’d all age at the same time and cost me big dollars?

^^My plan, here, was to put in a photo of Lily saying, “lillee perfectly well” but instead I came across my foster kittens, fmr., and died.^^ The girl, Frida, got adopted but the boys are still at the shelter.

Anyway, my aging pets. So far, my mother has provided all of Edsel’s chondroitin since she gave me all the leftover chondroitin from her poor dog, who died, and how well does that chondroitin work, then, but anyway I like how I act like I’m pulling out my pockets of empty, over here. BUT I’VE STILL HAD TO BUY HIS FISH OIL.

“edz sory he midle age and stiffz”

That’s a peach in the foreground, not the ass of an Oompah Loompah. Hey, I don’t tell you guys ALL my details.


I discovered yesterday, because I’m Christopher Columbus and here’s a smallpox blanket, that Facebook has a place where you can list all your hobbies on your About page. Naturally I selected hobbies I’ve never heard of in my life.

I mean, I know what it means to learn Punjabi. I know what love is, Jennay. Also also too, below my riveting hobbies, as you can see, are my featured pictures, and what even is that? Featured where? But I can’t get enough of the picture of my mother with one of the many many many many scary paintings from my childhood.

One wonders why I grew up with that anxiety. I remember staring at this painting, with that horrified, far-off look that kid gets in The Shining, and in my being-molded childhood mind, I thought those were his feet at the bottom, there, when really the artist kind of started making a ruffle and then left to kill himself.

Why didn’t I inherit my mother’s jawline? I’m Alexa Ray Joel. No offense, dad.

In other news that has nothing to do with anything except I’m Blondie Blathers, I went to the local jewelry store near my house. I’ve always gone to that jewelry store, even when I lived in a regular neighborhood where people make image books and have Christmas china. I took a ring in for repair in June and never heard back, and yesterday I finally just went in there and asked about it, they seemed kind of surprised to see me but got my ring out, I paid the $37 and brought it home and realized he hadn’t actually worked on it. Oh, dear.

But since I was down in that neighborhood, I went to the hippie crystal store. I’ve shown you this store many times in my blogging life, dating back to when the store cats were kittens. Have you ever noticed that most store cats are cranky? I guess they get over petted. Anyway, one of the store cats is a total Kitler but he never lets me capture him on film. A Kitler is a cat who resembles Hitler. Here’s an example of a Kitler. Show your work.

Whoever went to the bother to make this little sleeve is my people.

As I walked back to my car, with my defunct ring and my lack of hippie purchases, I noticed how pretty my car was and I stopped to take a photo.

I would have gotten a better angle but this car came SCREAMING at me and almost hit me, and it was stupid stupid annoying stupid Vilhelm Oyster, who COULD HAVE KILLED ME and thought he was hilarious.

Ohmygod, with Vilhelm. However, it’s been years since we’ve seen him. Well, it’s been years since YOU’VE seen him. I see him every dang day at work. When I first started there, eight years and three months ago but who’s counting, we worked in the same little room that just held The Poet, me, Vilhelm, Deb Downer and this woman from the Spanish team who had an annoying ringtone.

Then he got moved to another floor.

But then we got moved to the SAME floor and the SAME room and we’ve been reunited for two years now. I’ve been at 11 different desks in 8 years and three months. My current chair is my least-favorite (I’m on a very trafficky row, and you really see who goes to the breakroom 39492940102 times a day in that row) (also, Dear people who stomp when they walk: Stop stomping when you walk) and I’ve been there the longest. Once I was in this quiet corner away from everyone and that lasted maybe four months.

Anyway. After my near-death experience with stupid Vilhelm, I went home and threw the Blu for old stiff-hips, over here, till I heard, “Can Milhous come out and play?”

The woman next door asks that nearly every day. Her cat, Sissy, and Mil are best friends.

“Well, let me see if he wants out,” I said, heading for my back door, so to speak. “Mil–“

There he was. He was coiled like a spring waiting to come out. But mostly he wanted to rub on my ankles, and rub on Edsel, and purr. He’s a very purry cat. The whole time I’ve been writing you, he’s been on the little footstool at my feet, purring.

The woman next door was talking to him from behind the fence, like that neighbor on that toolman show, whatever it was called. “Come here, Milhous! That’s a girl! Come on over.” Finally she picked up Sissy and dangled her like an enticing puppet, over the fence. Milhous jumped up there, curious. Sissy curious.

“Oh, let me get my phone!” I announced, mincing dramatically into the house.

When Sissy and Milhous get married, this will be the photo on their wedding program. What do you mean, “Sad cat lady”?

Milhous is the friendliest cat. He got in a fight with the big mean yellow cat who roams around, whom I secretly love, and it makes me feel bad because knowing how friendly he is, I know he didn’t want to fight. He did what he had to do, for his country. Or this part of the block. Don’t be fooled by the scars that I got, I’m still Milly from the block.

What do you mean, “Sad cat lady, part deux”?

Okay, I have to go. I have to go to work, and dress my cats up in little outfits. It’s Wild West day here, so I’ll put on their little holsters.

See ya, ya varmints.


78 thoughts on “Zapateado

  1. Oh, Sissy and Milhous make the cutest couple! Every cat we’ve ever had hates other cats and barely tolerates any other cat we had at the same time. Also, too? I feel Edsel’s pain. Hip pain, that is.


  2. Dang, just getting here today. Ugh! Love the umpa lumpa butt. Soo awesome. Also, there were clown paintings in my brothers room. I had to sleep in there once (I think a sick sibling was moved into my room like a sick ward) and those damn clowns made me delirious. Or maybe I just had the not so illusive fever. But, still – they looked so frightening when the lights went out. Who would hang creepy clown paintings in a children’s room? this post was a perfect nightcap for me. These last few days leading up to back-to-school are NUTS. Finished all the kids sports/school physicals today. Whoopee. It’s the little things.


  3. Lovely post, Coot.

    Sorry, this is late coming and I hated to post because your comments were at 69. (snickering like a 12-year-old boy) There used to be a hippie shop close to where my hair salon was. Kahuna would ask me if I went to the woo-woo shop after I got my hair cut.


  4. So much to love…Eds, cute foster kitties, Mil & Sis!

    But I’m left with two things weighing on me. WHY did you have to post the link to the Trova thing (or, more accurately, WHY did I click)??! WHY??

    And are you gonna take your ring back and get it repaired? I’m worried about your ring.


  5. Great post. Those glasses! The photos of the kittens, Edz and to top it off Mil and Sissy. Wilson was the guy behind the fence. Does your neighbor have great wisdom for you? Milhous is only protecting HIS territory when he fights. I hope the little male kittens are adopted really soon. You do such a great job socializing your fosters. My family must have been super poor, because we never had anything on the walls other than an 18th century, french looking picture my mom had in her bedroom, the trees looked like a monster to me. I now have that picture in one of my guest bedrooms.


    • I don’t remember any art on our walls when we were growing up and only a few knickknacks on built-in shelves. Of course, our house was mid-century with thick plaster walls and I don’t remember any nail holes in it.


  6. First I drank a 20 oz coffee from Dunkin Donuts ….then I drank 2 water bottles at my desk ( environment bah!) and then I read this gem: Don’t be fooled by the scars that I got, I’m still Milly from the block.

    Then I peed my pants laughing and am Clorox wiping my upholstered chair. The end.


  7. I think it would be a hoot if BRF Alex gifted you starter. Then you would bring home mashed potatoes from restaurants to feed it.
    Lovely post, June.


  8. Such a sweet group of family! Love them! Do they have those problems because it is so damp there? Just curious.
    How old are they?
    The clown – kind of scary….


  9. I had a scary/sad clown painting in my bedroom growing up. Luckily I’m not freaked out by clowns. Some friend of my parents painted it and gifted it to them. Now that I’m grown up, I think they hated that painting and didn’t want to see it out in the main living space, and they didn’t want it in their own bedroom, but to make their friend happy they had to tell him it was hanging in the house so I was the lucky one who looked at it upon waking up every morning.


  10. Sissy! Now I picture Milz and Sissy in a pickup truck with tiny license plates in the back window just like Urban Cowboy. Sorry, I’ve been having a Travolta moment lately.


  11. I can’t stop laughing over Milly from the block.

    Do you think Milhouse will get upset of neighbor lady keeps calling him a her? I remember when my mom finally got fed up with my theatrics when she was trying to brush my hair and got it all cut off. I went from having beautiful, thick, long hair to what I refer to as my chopped up hair girl hair. After that, everywhere we went, people referred to be as him or cute little boy. I’m still traumatized. I want better for our Milhouse (which I just typed as Milkhouse).


  12. I love Milhous and Sissy’s engagement photo and can see them registering at Chewzy for the discerning cats. Other than food and catnip, what else would be on their list?


  13. I can’t believe those little boy kittens have not been adopted yet.

    Lovely post. The pictures are fabulous. Well, except for the clown. Your mother is lovely, but damn! that clown is scary.


  14. Hope I don’t have nightmares after seeing your horrific clown picture! I’m glad we couldn’t afford art at our house.
    Love the wedding announcement photo!


  15. This post was very fun. I love the ones where you let us tag along through your day because I love your outlook on things and also how you always see a unique perspective in the situation and also how long this sentence is.


  16. My Gramma had clown paintings and statues everywhere in her house too — the era as you say. Also why did they all have to look super suicidal sad? That didn’t help the creepiness factor.


        • Speaking of which, I just the other day figured out that Billy, Don’t Be a Hero was about a soldier, and not some guy who joined the circus. I am 54 years old. Why did they play circus music in that song if it was about a soldier? I guess I thought, “Billy, keep your head low” was about avoiding the trapeze guy falling on him. Also also, why were so many songs from the ’70s circus-y? Am I the only one who noticed that? Lotta circus music, which buries funeral dirges for depressing.


          • OHMYGAWD!!!! I am crying. Dodging the trapeze guy! Baby cried the day the circus came to town
            ’cause she didn’t want parades just passin’ by her
            So she painted on a smile and took up with some clown
            While she danced without a net upon the wire
            I know a lot about ‘er ’cause, you see
            Baby is an awful lot like me


      • When I was a young’n, our doctor had a bunch of those clown paintings in his office. Creeped me out. I hated those damn paintings.


    • the CHILDREN’s Hospital where I am employed and live (my kid is a 23 year patient), for very very sick children – years ago the lab waiting room was decorated in clowns. It was horrendous. Taking our poor sick kids, on chemo etc to a clown filled waiting room every single morning. It was quite the start to the day.

      Some sweet soul had donated the funds and decor for that horrendous waiting room. We were so happy when the patient care model made the clown waiting room obsolete.


  17. Wow, you’ve outdone yourself today. There couldn’t have been art like that in my childhood home, because mom would be afraid people would “talk” about her.


  18. Smallpox blankets. Snerk.

    I love that Millhous is so purry and friendly. But as Facebook keeps telling me, I was crazy before the cats. Also the top of your neighbor’s hair in that one picture struck me as funny.


  19. Did you hear me doubled up laughing at least three times? While reading this, I mean. Reunited and it feels so good.


  20. The photos of your over-the-fence neighbor are hilarious. Her blog name can be Wilson because I think that was the guy’s name on the TV show.

    Liked by 2 people

  21. This post was a splendid start to my morning. The wee kittens, Edsel on that beautiful chair, your mom’s photo (I expected long straight hair. She must have been in transition on her way to the cute style she has now), a coworker who thinks he’s hilarious, and of course, Milhous and Sissy. Book a large venue for the wedding because we’ll all be there.

    And now I’m off to find some weird hobbies.


  22. That clown. Similar to the one I grew up with, except mine was a porcelain head of a sad clown that sat on the TV console. So you were forced to stare at it the whole time Gilligan’s Island and The Brady Bunch were on. Dreadful. Who thought a clown was a good item to add to the rec room decor?

    Mother is timelessly lovely.


    • Why were clowns such a thing back then? I think I also had some in my room, and I guarantee you this was not my idea. It was the era’s idea.


  23. This post made me laugh and it made my heart happy. Thank you for that! I mean, not the part where you were almost run down. The Milhous/lady next door. I adore that your neighbor asks if your cat can come out and play. Love, love.


  24. I love it when we go down memory lane with your parents art work! Remember the Trova at Pace? Our connection? How I first found you? Memories… those clowns are still creepy as hell.

    Clearly if Sissy’s mom dies you get to keep Sissy. Otherwise Milhous would be so berefit.


  25. Oh, what a fun and joyful post to start my day! Millhouse and Sissy are adorable together. Glad he has a playmate. And the pic of the three kittens splayed on the sofa – too cute! Hopefully, the sweet little boys will get adopted soon. Have a great day!


  26. Wonderful, quirky post. Love the hobbies. Sourdough could be one of mine if eating it counts. Those kitty engagement/ dating pics are adorable! Hope they fix your ring or refind your money, geez.


  27. This is one of the best posts ever. The hobbies, the clown photo.. was that in your house? Did you actually LIVE with that? Because if so, you should be way more messed up than you are. Way.

    Millhouse is so lovey!. I love those pictures of him with his neighbor friend.


    • Dude, you haven’t even seen the sad vampire clown clutching his throat. Or the peach-pit-shaped dark angry faces I had to look at at the end of the hall. Or depressed Jesus modern art rolling his eyes guy painted by happy-go-lucky Dali.


  28. I wish I was as funny as you are!! I totally get why you want to marry self sometimes. Thanks for the laughs to start the day.


    • Sissy and Milhous can include that pic in their senior year slideshow. Clowns are scary; I can’t imagine growing up with those paintings on the walls. Great post!


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