The kids’ school Fall Festival fundraiser was Saturday, and other than the fact that I TOTALLY FORGOT that I’d promised to make cookies for the cakewalk, the whole thing seemed to be a grand success. I was helping with the throw-darts-at-balloons booth, and we had brisk business from start to finish. I was mildly concerned that we might run into, you know, complications, what with handing sharp metal implements to tiny toddlers and rowdy eight-year-olds and goth teens, but we didn’t have a single problem all day. Other than the wind occasionally gusting up and blowing our dartboard down, which usually necessitated the replacement of a bunch of popped balloons. I kept an anxious eye on my cardboard jail a few booths away, and saw that they’d solved the wind issue in the simplest possible way: the guys running the jail booth just stood on each side and held onto it when it threatened to blow away. Kids loved the jail concept, and there was a steady stream of “prisoners” in and out of it the whole time.
Steve brought the kids to the Festival around noon and they seemed to enjoy it, though I didn’t get to see much of them while they were there. AND there were plenty of baked goods for the cakewalks even without my forgotten cookies, so all was well.
One by one this past week or two I’ve watched my favorite bloggers succumb to the the vicious cold that’s been going around. Maybe I should have been more careful when I visited their blogsites, because sure enough that nasty little bug CLOBBERED me Sunday morning. I snuffled my way through church and our Sunday dinner party, went to bed early, and then got maybe four hours’ sleep because I felt too crappy to doze off. I really need to stay away from sick peoples’ blogs; those internet virii are freaking relentless.
Monday I dragged my sorry self down to Temec to do my weekly shopping. I would have put it off, but I had an appointment to get my hair cut and didn’t want to reschedule. I had her touch up my highlights at the same time, and asked her to match the chlorinated silver shade because I’ve decided I like it that way. I’d post a pic, but this cold is seriously kicking my butt. Aside from the pretty pretty haircut I’m about as photogenic as a day-old serving of cold Spam in a dirty ashtray right now. Pics later, when my nose isn’t red and my skin isn’t chapped and I don’t have purple shadows under my eyes.
When I got home from Temecula yesterday I didn’t feel like doing much of anything that involved effort, so I went to hang out with the kittens for a while. They live in the back of the house for now (the kids’ rooms and the adjacent playroom), so I hadn’t really seen much of them. The kids attend to their food and water, and other than cleaning out their litter box a few days ago my life has been simplified rather than complicated by their arrival. But I felt like it was time for me to get to know them, so in I went to officially introduce myself.
Except they wanted nothing to do with me. They skittered under furniture when I tried to pet them, indignantly objected when I cornered them and picked them up, and wriggled free as soon as they got the chance. I was an unwelcome invader in their little kitten lives. This worried me, because I’ve adopted kittens in the past that have turned out to be irredeemably non-domesticable, and that wasn’t what I’d wanted for my kids. I finally left them alone, feeling disappointed in their lack of sociability.
That evening, Elizabeth called me into the playroom to show me something she’d made out of marbles and plastic blocks. Luke and the kittens were in there too, so after I’d admired her marble sculpture thingy I sat down on the steps to see if there was any interaction between the four of them.
HA. I needn’t have worried. The kittens treated Elizabeth like a big fun climby toy, and from time to time Stripes would leave off frolicking to come over to Luke for petting. He would absently stroke her while going on with what he was doing (building beautiful little houses and cars out of paper), and then she’d dash back and scramble up Elizabeth again.
So, no worries about the four of them not getting along. I guess I’m the only suspicious-looking stranger here. I can live with that.
Elizabeth says she has renamed her kitten “Madcat.” You know, like Dr. Claw’s feline henchman. I’m not entirely comfortable with the fact that she’s named her cute little kitty after the evil pet of of an evil genius, but I suppose one must pick one’s battles wisely and let the little stuff go, right?
Is it bad that when I saw this pic at the Cheezburger site I immediately thought of my sweet girl?