There Is a Golden Moment

My tea is always cold by the time I finish it. I get distracted with one thing or another and soon its cold. The last sip is always so sweet though, because all the honey has thickened and sunk to the bottom.

That's my life right now. I'm so busy being busy right now, with Jason and the kids, with my friend "The Wendy Bird" and her two lost boys, tending to myself for the first time in my whole life; that I don't have time for the dirty business of the bitter tea that is my illness.

It is real. Of that I have no doubts. It is no neurological sleight of hand or psychological curse. The pain does exist, and it is constant.

But on days like today and yesterday, I can almost forget that its there. It's like an unwanted odor that lurks in the air. You become accustomed to it until you've left the room and returned.

I don't believe my pain and fatigue has mysteriously disappeared simply because I'm happy. Though I do seem better able to "rise and shine" and I'm able to do it a lot earlier than I've previously been able too. I simply believe that the noise of my illness has trouble rising through the dine of my happy home. I awake earlier and more refreshed because Jason ensures I get to bed on time. I am in less pain because I'm busy and have less time to dwell on it.

I'm drinking up the honey right now. That golden moment suspended, sweet and thick on my tongue. And I'm loving it.There is no way cold tea can compete with the sweetness of love, life and laughter.

Cat Ranchers

The Trouble with Tribbles is that they multiply. And quickly. And not even logically.
The same goes with cats.
We started with one cat. She had two female kittens. Now her kittens have each had either one or two litters and we are swimming in kittens.
Last count: Four Adult Females, Three teen males, one teen female, and seven kittens.

The thing is, they're supposed to be indoor cats. They're supposed to be all female but suddenly their breeding at an alarming rate, faster than I can possible get them neutered and...

Like I said, now were swimming in cats.

I forbade the girls from naming them knowing  full well that once they are named it is a thousand times harder to let them go but suddenly they all had names. Two-face and Ginger are the Eldest females. Moonlight and Sticky are Two-Face's daughters. Sticky has two litters, the teen: Mr. E, Albus, Socks, and Harriet Potter, plus five unnamed kittens...

ok fine. I named one. I call it Pinkie.

Moonlight has one litter: Snowflake and Smokey who found homes this weekend and "The Twins" who are so small and helpless I'm afraid of sending them out into the big bad world.

And we were doing ok. We were maintaining even though the price of cat food is higher than the price of gas. Until last night when Socks decided he wanted to start acting like an asshole.

Be forewarned people. I curse. I'm going to curse and talk about kinky sex and witch craft and you all will be utterly blown away.

My little Socks. Socks and Mittens, Mittens and Kittens, Kittens who lost their mittens, Gloves. Socks decided he was going to get laid and he didn't care who did it.

That's when my little Socks and Mittens cat turned into S&M cat.s
He meowed all night, clawing at doors and calling to his one and only true love.
He moaned. He cried. He coooed.

The only problem is that every female in the house is either his mother, his aunt, his sister, his cousin, or an elderly neuter who hates everyone.

And now we both hate life.