The last entry was titled thusly as, in my bleary-eyed thinking, I was going to extrapolate on the concept of “the middle of the night.” My only explanation for even contemplating such a hackneyed and useless topic was that it was, in fact, the middle of the night. I guess I was just wondering what constitutes the ‘middle’ of the night. Isn’t that 12:00am (a.k.a. “midnight”)? Wouldn’t it change all the time, as night is dictated by darkness, which is a cyclical phenomenon? Oh, here I go… actually extrapolating on this folly. It must be once again nearing the middle of the night.
So, the last time I wrote at this insane hour, it was because I had fallen so soundly asleep at a ridiculous time (like 9:30pm), thanks to my very schmoasty cat, Sadie, snuggling up with me on the couch. We were so warm together, we just drifted away to dreamland until my subconscious realized it was the middle of the night and I was still on the couch! Instead of coming upstairs to bed, I blogged. I put in the picture of Sadie as she was the primary reason for the 3:19am entry.
Now, Milo has just descended from my left shoulder, where he climbed for a little attention. Purring loudly in my ear and insisting I neither type on nor even look at my computer. Here is Milo.
Milo and Larry the lobster
The only cat who hasn’t vociferously demanded attention tonight is Flannery. She’s an easygoing cat, still remarkably grateful that we saved her from homelessness more than three years ago. When we first noticed her (an abandoned cat living on the wooded hill next to our house), we started feeding her and even built a fort on our low balcony for her to sleep in a protected place. We thought she was a he, and named her “Henry” once we decided we would probably end up bringing her inside to join Milo and Sadie in our cat crew. But once we realized she was a girl, we couldn’t bring ourselves to keep calling her Henry. And Henrietta was not even an option. Flannery sounded cool, but she quickly earned a whole series of nicknames. Ted calls her Pooh, and I call her Schmoo (in “Monsters, Inc.,” Mike Wazowski’s nickname for his girlfriend, Celia, was Schmoopsy Pooh, so there you go). Here is Schmoo.
Schmoo on the desk
OK, so now that I've posted my cats, it's time to post my kids. Ok, so technically, they're not mine. They're my siblings' kids. "I'm your Auntie Mame!"
The kids, October 2004
October 2004. I coerced all of them to wear blue on a day when they volunteered to help me with a project at Grandma and Grandpa's house.
Bed time. Ack!