Cats and Bags

How to Catch A Cat

E was gone most of the week for a conference. Before he left, he was distracted preparing for a 3-hr long workshop to promote his software, so it feels like he's been gone a week.

It was quiet in the house. I puttered around in the kitchen fixing gourmet meals for myself two of the days, watched TV, surfed the web, read in bed. For 4 days, I was sole guardian of the cats. When E's around, he'd feed them and scoop the litter, and I would play with them. Not that I couldn't do those things either... feeding was easy. 1 cup, 2 cats, twice a day. Once in a while I've to make sure Salty doesn't stick his nose in Pepper's chow.

In the mornings it gets a little tricky. P & S scratch, claw, jump, nibble, trample, and do pretty much anything to get our attention, in the name of breakfast. By 6.30am, E would give up and roll out of bed, with the patience of a saint, and lovingly dole out their kibbles before climbing back into bed. When I have to be up in less than an hour, it's harder to keep a good humor about it. To protect my beauty sleep in my kitty-feeding aide's absence, I decided to keep the whining brats in the office downstairs. I enjoy the fuzzy company when I read in bed at night, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

The charming thing about a townhouse that predates even my grandparents' births is that over the years, the walls have warped ever so slightly that none, and I mean none, of the doors close the way they should. (Except the front door, of course.) It does wonderful things for our sense of privacy. At best, you can wedge a door shut by pulling it tightly against the frame, but the latch doesn't do anything. The problem is compounded by the fact that of the doors that close, the cats have figured out how to open them, and can sashay in and out wherever they please (imagine my near-heart attacks stepping out of the shower). All... except for the office door (dun dun dun!) So right before bed, for 3 evenings, I play hide-and-seek with the cats, trying to cajole/trick them into following me, the Pied Piper, so I can quarantine them behind the single closed door for the night.

Making a cat come to you isn't easy, and I don't feel good about resorting to trickery. Salty had to think it was playtime (his fuzzy toy with bells coyly slithers into the office...). Pepper had to think it was mealtime - I open the closet door where we keep the cat food, and instead of scooping up kitten chow, she gets scooped up (and lets out a confused "meow?") and tossed into the office. In the mornings, when I finally release them from 'prison', they meow frantically for breakfast and attention. I fill their bowls, and peace is restored.

E's back, much to the cats' relief - everything's back to normal. No more crazy woman trying to lock them up.

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I finally finished The Time Traveler's Wife. Amazing story, I gotta make E read it. At the third to last page, the floodgates opened and I started bawling. All of a sudden, I could feel Clare's emptiness and loss, I missed Henry deeply for her. I loved the ending, and I loved that when I finally put down the book, everything made sense despite the inherently illogical plot. Very satisfying read. Now I'm afraid I might not enjoy Love in The Time of Cholera as much - it may be written by a literary master, but it's got a bit to live up to.

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Bag-O-Rama

Went shopping with Liz on Saturday - my last girly hurrah before the hubby returned. We must've walked into more than a dozen stores. She's now well-equipped for the spring/summer, and I procured for myself not one, but two bags: a utilitarian Ann Taylor brown leather shoulder tote, and a cute petite black Coach satchel. A bag for all reasons and seasons! I've never been into bags until the last year; I'm slowly unleashing the inner bag diva and embracing the bag lady in me.

It's nice to have E home again. As much as I enjoyed having time alone, I did miss him. Now if you'll excuse me, we have some catching up to do.... >;)