Cat barf can be fun!

Our laundry basket is still in the kitchen in the aftermath of Caturineapolooza 2009, Dennis' clothes are on the floor in its place, and what do I stumble upon but cat barf. Gag!

What do I do?

Do I totally freak out?

Lose it?

Hmm, I've got the kids to consider. Freaking out would be a self-indulgence and a luxury. One I too often afford myself. But not today! Because today I'm Happymaking!

What can I do? How do I make the cat barf fun for all? Yes! I've got it! What makes everything fun? One word: GLITTER!
















Glitter makes everything a party!

Aren't you having fun? I know I'm having fun!

Also, please know that when taking a picture of glittercized cat barf, the best setting to use is close-up, with flash set to ON.

Doesn't it look Pretty? Festive? FUN?!

I can hardly wait until the cat pukes again!

We were attacked by an orange cat last night!

<- Not that cat, that's a photo found on the web for informational purposes. And well, okay, attacked probably isn't the best word to describe what actually went down. Work with me here.

Yesterday upon returning home from a visit to the house we will be moving into in a couple of weeks, I noticed a knock-you-off-your-feet odor of cat spray emanating from an unfindable location in our bedroom. I tore the room apart trying to locate the source of the vile odor. I dragged the clothes hamper into the kitchen. I got down on my hands and knees and sniffed every spot on the carpet, our bedspread, my husband's toes, but I never did find it.

Heather: Dennis, Ringo peed all over the bedroom! Go smell it!

Dennis: *Gets up from Mafia Wars and goes into the bedroom* I don't smell a thing.

Heather: Are you kidding me? It's so strong? Are you sure you can't smell it?

Dennis: Nope, don't smell a thing.

Heather: Are you sure you aren't just saying that to irritate me?

Dennis: Well don't get mad at me, I just can't smell it.

Heather: HOW can you NOT smell it? I think I'm going to vomit. I might just vomit!

So ten o'clock comes around and we're off to bed, rank odor snaking its way through my nasal cavity and probably through Lily's as well since she sleeps next to us in her crib and is female and has a nose that actually functions. Twenty minutes passes, and...

Cat: Moooww...Moooww...

Dennis: *peeks over at the baby* Is that Lily?

Heather: No, she's asleep

Head to pillow again.

Cat: Mooooooow...MooooooooOOOOooow...

I seriously begin to wonder if the ghost of our last cat is back to haunt us because she used to sound just like that. I wonder if I did something unforgivable and the hour of feline reckoning is upon me.

Then it happened. Something scurried just over my head. Dennis hops out of bed and makes his way into the kitchen, returning flashlight in hand. He is not yet aware that the flashlight has dead batteries. When he becomes aware, he makes his way back to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of glass & surface cleaner, gets down on his knees, and starts to spray under the bed. After about 20 minutes of this, and locking our other cats in the bathroom, and standing in front of the crib to protect Lily, an orange cat runs out of our bedroom into the garage. Note that I said into the garage and not through the garage and out of the house altogether.

I saw that blasted cat this morning. We have a cat door on our kitchen garage door. This was a useful tool, but now it only serves to thwart us and prolong our misery. The cats are freaked out and won't go into the garage for their food and water and litter. I may have to bring it all into the kitchen. I've been out there a few more times just opening and closing the garage door and peeking in boxes and shaking things, but I haven't actually gotten a visual on the cat. Our garage now smells like a urine factory.

Scat, Demon Cat! SCAT!

Peanut Butter War: What is it good for?

My husband is a Skippy fan. I think Jif (or Jiffy as I affectionately refer to it) is peanuttier. I grew up with Jif. It's just not in the same league as that other stuff. Somebody told me that Skippy was made from mouse pee. Who wants to eat mouse pee? Do you want to eat mouse pee? Didn't think so. Neither of us will budge an inch. He, of course, is stubborn, bull-headed and just plain wrong. I, of course, am just plain right (obviously).

This weekend my husband has suddenly taken to feeding Joe Joe peanut butter toast in the morning. I'm suspicious of his motives.

Heather: "Did you give him Skippy?"

Dennis: "Yes. I'm trying to bend him to my ways."

Heather: "That's just sick."

On which side of the battle lines is your household?

The 16 word blog post

Baby vomit and diarrhea. Kids are by.

Will be back as soon as possible! Take care.

Lily's crocheted flower toy pre and post-slobber

This post is for @Papermasks on Twitter who said, after I signed off to crochet a toy for my baby, "@Happymaker Be sure to post a pic pre and post slobber."

(Ringo the fat cat)

During the construction phase


Pre-slobber


Post-slobber.

I swear Lily is always happy and smiling and kicking and cooing before I get the camera out. Something about the flash photography inspires her to put on her sullen teenager face for nearly every photo. That said, hey - why not crochet a baby toy? Lily is always grabbing things out of my crochet "element" stash of flowers and starfishies, so I deduced that it was time to make a special flower just for her. I figure I can use this one as a coaster once she tires of it. Or pin it to the wall. Or glue it to the toilet. I love to surround myself with happy, colorful things (much to my husband's chagrin). You ain't seen nothing yet, Baby! I may sew one to your grey shorts while you sleep! Ha HA!

Maybe someday I'll even put some of these on my Etsy store for my hookorally challenged friends. Dare to dream. Someday you too will be able to fly far too close to the sun in the form of a flower coaster gadget thingy made by ME! Wahooooooooo!!!

New "Feature": Demons Unleashed

Alright, you. Just a warning: Not every post here will be about Happymaking! Today I almost posted at my old blog howtobeawoman.net. Yes, another blog. I know. I KNOW. I almost posted there because I miss being able to ramble on about nothing, and pop off a little bit and ask you to slap me. I need to get my thoughts out there. Not because I think they're so incredibly fascinating that the world is better for having been exposed to them. Because if I don't unleash my demons from time to time they accumulate and sometimes take up residence for years. And those around me are the worse for it.

Don't get me wrong, I do want to re-work my thinking and find ways to colorize and brighten my world & the worlds of those whom I love. But I don't have it in me to do it every second of every day. And I'm not an expert at it. Yet. I simply believe that unleashing my demons is an important part of the process. And your eyes are cheaper than a shrink.

I'm only human, after all. Painfully, excruciatingly human. Steeeeeeeeeeellaaaaaaa!!!!

Happymaking at The Rock Garden Cafe

We spent the entire weekend perusing rental properties "down the hill". Our lease is coming due soon and we're looking to move away from the black widows and fire ants from Hell and closer to Dennis' work. After a long day of looking at houses, something we all actually really enjoy, we decided to stop off at The Rock Garden Cafe in Palm Springs for a rare bite out. Our table was right by a little pond so, after we finished our meal, Joe walked over to check out the pond and Dennis sat close by to make sure he was safe.

Hatching a plan

Blue Doggie after Dennis, who hates nothing more than to be the focus of public attention, scuttled over on his belly and wheelbarrowed into the pond to retrieve him while our fellow diners gasped and oohed.

Blue Doggie safe & sound thanks to Daddy. A round of applause, please!

This is Happymaking at its finest. The unintentional kind. Why have a boring, peaceful, uneventful lunner (or is it dinunch?) when you can make a public scene and get wet in the process? Fun for us, fun for the other diners. Success!