My Maniacal Misfit Menagerie

So I'm back to my all time favorite task since starting this blog: researching what I'm doing. Throughout my studies one fact becomes glaringly more obvious with every article I read. I have created a Seinfeld blog. That's right. A blog about nothing. Nothing I tell you. All of the information out there tells you how to promote your business through your blog. I have no business. My blog is simply to entertain you all. I'm like a bard. Or perhaps more accurately, a court jester. I'm not trying to promote my fortune 500 company or show off a new product we've just developed here at headquarters. I'm certainly not trying to educate anyone. In fact, I'd like to add a disclaimer here that if you have learned anything, it was purely accidental and not intended. Furthermore, it might be best if you attempt to unlearn anything you accidentally did learn in the reading of said non educational posts. These professionals suggest informative graphics, guest speake

I knew what kind of day it was going to be at 4 o'clock this morning. Winnie had just crawled back into bed with us and began her routine of getting as close as possible. Just as I noticed a certain odor, a wet paw stepped on my face. Because apparently, some days you step in shit, some days it steps on you. So at 4 o'clock in the morning, I'm in the bathroom giving an angry cat a bath. Ever give a cat a bath? I recommend it at least once before you die. Everyone believes the propaganda that cats have 4 legs. Little known fact: cats are gremlins. That's right. Watch what happens next time you get one wet. First of all, they sprout way more than 4 legs. Each tiny precious kitten foot sheds its retractable nail and is replaced with razor blades. The time/space continuum loses its fluidity; allowing the cat to be simultaneously attacking your arm, wrapped around your face, and half way down your shirt all at the same time. The darling animal you've invited into your ho

For those of you who follow regularly, you'll be surprised to discover that this post is about Winnie. I know, I know; I hardly ever talk about her. It seems oddly fitting that the member of the family who seems to require the most attention daily should develop her own online following. This blog was never meant to be about her daily antics, and yet it seems to be evolving that way, with other random posts thrown in for good measure. So as previously stated in other posts, Winnie likes to watch the hummingbirds. And she thinks she's a husky. And she likes to spend many of her waking hours at my side. So I suppose we really all should have seen this coming. With the nice weather, I've been trying to spend as much time as humanly possible outside. Since my vitamin D levels are always so low, I like to say it's doctor ordered. "Sorry, I want to clean the house today, but it's nice out. I should hang out on the patio and sunbathe. Doctor's orders." "

I suppose sooner or later it would come out that I am mildly obsessed with hummingbirds. An impartial observer may say that my obsession is a little bit more than "mild" but we just won't conduct any polls on the matter. I will say that one of our family trips a couple of years ago involved flying out to Arizona for a hummingbird festival. I even got to cross an item off my bucket list - hold a hummingbird in the palm of my hand. I still say that doesn't make me obsessed. It just makes me passionate. Ooh, wait. Interesting. It makes me interesting! This really all started when I was much younger. Before I had ever even seen an actual hummingbird. I have no idea how it all began. I just remember being fascinated by their diminutive size and their unique flight patterns. By the time I hit my mid twenties, I had experienced an occasional sighting here and there. I vowed if I ever had my own home, I would make it a hummingbird mecca. Think "if you build it, they

I can finally share a story I've been sitting on for a little over a week. After all, it wouldn't be fair to share it here when I wasn't even telling my kids about it. Some of you may have figured out through these posts or my near constant story telling/picture sharing that I am unreasonably attached to Winnie, our 5 month old kitten (Or, as she was referred to today as, our 26 week old kitten). How can I not be? She never really leaves my side. She often comes running up to me purring excitedly as if it hasn't been a mere 10 minutes since we saw each other last. Pretty sure she likes me more than my husband likes me (to be fair, she hasn't known me nearly as long). So at her vet check up a little over a week ago when the vet heard a murmur and suggested an echocardiogram "just to be safe" I tried to react like a normal human being. I missed normal by a good thousand miles, but I tried. First, I questioned about specific (benign) cardiac abnormalities, pr

Last night was a baseball game night. I want to start by saying that my sons have had the good fortune of having some great coaches. People that love the game, the kids, and volunteer from the heart. I have always been thankful for these people who have been part of the village that has helped us raise them. We all know there's those "other" coaches out there, though. Yesterday, we ran into one. I want to be fair and submit the following disclaimer: I know nothing about this man, his life, or any coaching techniques aside from what I witnessed last night. That being said, he really didn't shine too brightly during that time. My children will be the first to tell you that it is exceedingly difficult for me to watch a professional game quietly. Thankfully, most of these are seen from the relative obscurity of my livingroom. That does not dissuade me in the least from coaching loudly and occasionally inappropriately. (It took Wolf almost an entire football season to sto