Sitting pretty

Funner than a new toy

All this food consumption means that Maggie's quickly outgrowing her things, and she's ready to graduate to a larger car seat. After comparison shopping, Lori ended up purchasing the least expensive seat available. She wisely chose one that will grow with Maggie, and eventually morph into a booster seat. It even has its own cup holder! Maggie has evidently learned that anything pink with flowers belongs to her, and she's getting used to it indoors before taking it out for its first ride.

Lori's purchase inspired me to buy one for my own car, the same model but in Basic Blah Black to match my upholstery.

I also invested ten bucks in a big stuffed frog to sit beside me in the passenger seat when Maggie and I are out and about, which prevents her forgetful Gramma Tea from leaving her behind in the back seat.

Smackaroni Night

No matter what's on the menu, Maggie prefers to dig in and feed herself. What some might label as messy, I prefer to call independent:

A trick learned from my mother:
When preparing macaroni and cheese, add a drop or two of yellow mustard before adding the cheese. It gives just the right touch of flavor.

oops

Okay, I got sick and tired of wearing this cast. And even though my orthopedic surgeon instructed me to wear it for six weeks until the end of May, I felt as though I'd already had it attached to my arm for six months. So I second guessed him and counted the weeks since surgery on my Palm Pilot and discovered that the surgeon was wrong, I was only three days short of six weeks since my surgery date!

Co-pay after co-pay after co-pay had encouraged me to choose DIY cast removal techniques, which went smoothly. I'd expected some surgical scarring and sensitive, icky skin. As the afternoon and evening wore on, though, the pain in my hand went from bad to worse. Concerned that losing a few days of cast wear had been a bad idea, I nervously re-counted the weeks on my calendar ... and then realized that it should be worn six weeks from the date it was originally applied, not from the surgery date. Ugh, it's only been four weeks.

So you're thinking I'll go to the orthopedist Monday morning, shell out another insurance co-pay and then admit to the whole gruesome story, right? Not so fast. After a night to sleep on it, the pain and swelling have subsided. And in the meantime, it's as good an excuse as any to rest my hand and enjoy the weekend.

No more kitten drama!

Crisis du jour:

Whatever's preying on these kittens at night doesn't intend to stop.

Another sleep-deprived night in which unknown assailants harassed Kitty and her litter of kittens has inspired me to lock the babies up overnight in pet taxis. We are, after all, officially fostering them until they're adopted through a local animal rescue organization, and I feel responsible for their safety. With four cats already in the house (mine plus Lori's three), bringing them indoors isn't an option.

Frankly, I think these kittens need a full night's rest after playing so hard during the day. Now that they've discovered life beyond the back porch, their favorite hangout is an overgrown spirea shrub where they hide and plan surprise attacks on one another. I don't expect a single one of my abused cannas to bloom this summer, and that little wheelbarrow with the flowers "spilling out" of it is a complete disaster.

What a mess!

* Update on the injured kitten:

After studying animal care on the Internet, Sarah has been applying warm compresses to the kitten's wound each night, which opens it up painlessly and allows more pus to drain (lovely!). Since she and the kitten have really bonded, Sarah's named it Madison has decided to keep this one instead of her first choice.

Besides, she learned from the vet that Ella is a little boy. And not just any little boy. After all the growlies over a dead vole that Mama Kitty drug up on the porch, he's evidently the alpha male of the litter. I left him alone until he stopped batting it around and began chewing it up. Sure, the dishes and food and bedding and kennels on the porch are a mess, but I draw the line at bloody guts all over the place.

A meanie in our midst

Crisis du jour:

An injured kitten

Upon returning home late Sunday, I learned that one of the Siamese-look twins had suffered some injuries the previous night. Sarah found the kitten curled up on the ground Sunday morning, soaking wet with rain and shivering from shock. Since Lori worked at Cat-n-Cow during high school, she shaved the hair from a skin laceration on the kitten's side, then treated it with antiseptic.

Today's visit to the vet revealed a smaller puncture wound parallel to the one that Lori discovered -- an obvious cat or snake bite. After lots of pus was drained from the area, we returned home with an antibiotic.

Happy Mothers Day

Spending Mothers Day weekend in LA with my parents was even more relaxing and fun than I'd expected it to be. Since Mother's foot is in a cast, Daddy led us on a Saturday driving tour of the area that included all sorts of sights I'd previously only seen in photos. I hollered, "I've seen this before! I know this spot! This is (fill in the blank)!" so much that it must have seemed like I was trying to be the tour guide. We stopped briefly for a closer look at Sheldon Castle, an unusual historic home in Fairhope.

Naturally, I was treated to authentic Gulf Coast seafood at a place frequented by the locals. My parents are evidently so local that they both ordered chicken instead of fish. That evening, we settled in to watch Smokey and the Bandit on DVD. Oddly enough, Mother and Daddy had never seen it. Hard to believe it was made thirty years ago. And yes, it's still a fun movie.

Looky what I got for Mothers Day Four colorful varieties, hand planted with love

She's a keeper

Our back-porch kittens are currently six weeks old, and they're cute as buttons. Sarah has introduced them to solid food and litter trained them, and plans are in the works to give four of the five away to good homes.

For all her hard work, Sarah's being allowed to keep one favorite. She's chosen a female and named it Ella — perhaps after my Aunt Ella?