My cat's Christmas

My mother-in-law is a confirmed dog person but still manages to get the best cat toys for our kitties at Christmas (which I know I've written about before). This year was no exception and Eddie in particular is having a ball with this present.





He's managed to get the toy out of the sucker gripper that kept it on the glass door, and has been carrying it around the house for the last 30 minutes. We'll need to make sure we put it away tonight or we'll never get any sleep.

Merry Christmas!

I am six years old in this picture – I remember this Christmas really well. We were in Denver, staying with my paternal grandparents in their mid-century ranch home. I recall the fireplace made of stacked stone, and the large back yard. That house was the pride and joy of my grandmother, but I don’t know why. She and my grandfather were older even by grandparent standards. My grandfather was born in 1891 and my grandmother in 1895. They had their first child, my uncle, in 1918 and my father was born in 1925.

Anyway, we were there with Barker, Marian (my stepmother), her four children and of course my brother and me. That was the Christmas my brother got up at some ridiculously early hour (I want to say 5 AM) to open presents. He was just five so you can imagine how excited he was.

Anyway – in this picture I am wearing all Christmas presents, starting with the dress from Hawaii, the lei and of course the watch. Notice too that I’m wearing the watch on my left wrist. But I did that because I was told to. In fact, I had put it on my right wrist until told to do otherwise. Left to my own devices, I've always worn my watch on my right hand, even though I’m right-handed. Wearing a watch on my left hand has always felt wrong and awkward.

Notice, too, the tea set, the doll, the Skipper doll (you remember, Barbie’s friend?) and the doll house furniture. I would have also gotten a stocking full of small presents and treats but of course by this point in the day, I was focused on those big gifts.

As I’ve looked through pictures taken throughout my life, I’ve also realized that my hair style has not varied much. In fact, I’ve had the same straight hair, partly somewhat on the right, usually with bangs and usually between chin and shoulder length.

Wherever I go

There they are. At least lately. They follow me to the bedroom when I am just going to read, they curl up with me on the couch (and leave me practically no room), and if I sit on the floor when we watch TV, well they swarm me then too. Crazy kitties.

They put out serious sleep vibes, I was
about to pass out here

No such thing – a family story

My ex and I didn’t teach our children to believe in Santa Claus. We thought that was not a good idea – tell them about a mythical creature who flies around the world in one night, have them believe it for their early years only to learn we’d lied to them. We preferred to teach them about Christ, stressing that His birth was what Christmas was all about. We didn’t mock or otherwise denigrate the Santa myth but we didn’t perpetuate it.

From L to R: B, me, and J

When J was nearly five (the age he is in this picture), I was finishing up Christmas shopping with the boys at a mall. As often happened, another shopper stopped to chat with us. I’m not bragging when I say that I got stopped a lot with my children because they were really gorgeous. I was usually told they should be Gerber babies or in modeling or something like that. The kids had gotten used to it, and we were always polite. This time, after commenting on his beautiful eyes, the elderly lady asked J what Santa was bringing him for Christmas. He looked at her and said, “Nothing. There’s no Santa Claus!” Her face fell, she sort of stepped back in shock, gave me the most disapproving look and hurried off.

Now there’s a follow up to that story. Not four or five months later, J lost his first tooth. He was really young for that, only five, and we hadn’t given any thought to what we’d do about the Tooth Fairy. So he came to me with his little tooth and asked me about the Tooth Fairy. Thinking quickly, I asked him what he knew about it. “Oh,” he said, “I know it’s not real but can we pretend?” Sure thing! And so my children got their ransom money for their fallen teeth.

When he's good

Lately Wally has taken to sleeping on my lap in a different way. It's hard to explain but basically he hugs me with one paw and usually tucks his head into my abdomen. In this picture, you can see the paw but he got distracted by the sound of the camera so he looked up from his head tuck. It's an incredibly sweet pose, and he just purrs and purrs when he curls up like this.

Walk with me

I live in a neighborhood that was built in the mid- to late 50s (our house was built in 1958). I’m not sure why, but there are no sidewalks in my neighborhood. I don’t mean there are some or that they’re in bad shape. I mean there aren’t any. You have to get over to the four-lane very busy streets to have sidewalks and even then, you don’t get them 100%.

I read an article last week in Slate about how cul-de-sacs are bad for our health (you can read the article here) because we no longer walk. As with the lady in the article, we don’t walk because at least here in the Midwest, we can’t walk. Or if we do, we risk getting hit by cars because we have to walk in the streets.

Here’s another example. I walked to the mailbox this morning so I could get a letter out before the winter storm hits us later today (our carriers don't really pick up our mail at our mailboxes). You can see the route I took, it's the blue dotted line. There were no sidewalks until I reached 95th Street. I could have had some sidewalks if I’d taken the other route on Mission, but even there the sidewalk vanishes south of Cure of Ars Church.

It takes a lot of work for me to get close to the 10k steps a day that’s supposed to be so beneficial for us. I can generally make it on my running days . . . because I’m running 3 ½ miles. But on the days I don’t run, I’m lucky to get to 5K.

When we lived in Boston, I walked everywhere. We had large sidewalks that were generally kept clear of ice and snow in the winter, and the pedestrians ruled the streets. Not here. If I try to cross a street at a Ped Xing, I’m still taking my life in my hands. God help me if it’s dark and I’m wearing a dark winter coat.

What's it like to walk in your area? Do you live in a pedestrian friendly place or are you risking life and limb to get in a daily constitutional walk?

No, bad kitty, no!

I got some doggy biscuits for my mother-in-law's dog for Christmas and wrapped them up and put them under the tree. Here's what the package looked like this morning:

And I know who the culprit is. I told him that even though he's the size of a small dog, he isn't actually a dog and can't have them. He doesn't seem to care.