Cookie Dog

So the last blog was about my toona ho cats. Little did I know, the neighbor has a similar phenomenon – the cookie dog.

Visited my wonderful best-cookie-baker-ever neighbor, Heidi, this morning. She has her Christmas decorations up. She’s ready for the season. She is also, as mentioned above, the best cookie baker ever so her sugar cookies were done and ready to be frosted and decorated. So we frosted and decorated cookies, something I look forward to every year. All the while, Leo, the barky little dachshund, pranced and looked balefully at us, and assumed the cookies were for him.

Now prior to the successful batches, one batch of butterscotch oatmeal was a smidgen overdone. Never fear. Cookies NEVER go to waste. We ate those, ever grateful to the oven timer that misfired. Leo made noise and hovered in omg-are-they-ever-going-to-drop-one mode.

Sugar cookies finished, we retired to the living room, slightly overdone butterscotch oatmeal cookies in hand, and had a great mini-marathon session of our favorite TV show and chatted about this and that. Leo waited attentively at Heidi’s side, tail thumping noisily, ears perked, looking first at her, then at me, as we munched.

The time came for me to wander home, so I gathered my things, grabbed a handful of butterscotch oatmeal cookies, carefully wrapped them in a paper towel, and shoved them in my hobo bag purse. The purse with the long straps on it that let it dangle about knee high. Started hiking across the yard to my place, and noticed I was being followed by Sammi, the beagle. Sammi is a very nice, quiet little beagle who lives outside. Normally, Sammi walks about a half step behind anyone…

I looked down just in time to see her head in my purse. I stopped. She stopped. Sammi looked up with that wonderful beagle smile. Still clinging to her teeth was the corner of the paper towel. Sticking out of the corner of her mouth was… a COOKIE. Sammi was grinning from one long floppy beagle ear to the other. I had to laugh. Being the polite little beagle she is, she’d only taken one.

It’s the quiet ones you have to watch.

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Life with Two Toona Ho’s

I belong to two toona ho’s. They are blatantly in it for the toona. And by the way, it is TOONA, not tuna. Their names are Lizzy and Zelda and they are guilty of interrupting my writing as many times per day as they think they can get toona from me. Toona or the infamous kitty krack. They will do anything for kitty krack. Jump through flaming hoops – yes. Step on my keyboard – most definitely. Walk across my workspace – no hesitation. Lie on my paperwork – this one turns into ‘how far can I stretch myself out to cover the most paperwork ?’

I look forward to their nap time. I love them with all my heart, but I still plan my writing around their nap time. It’s 4am and I should write more novel yet here I am, blogging about the cats. I really need to send a high word count to my NaNoWriMo account THIS week. This is my first experience with NaNoWriMo and as much as I thought it would spur me along, it’s not. Shame on you, NaNoWriMo! You are supposed to guilt me into writing more consistently. What the hell?

Actually, I’m stuck on a plot point with my novel. Also, I have a very bad habit of editing as I go. I need to learn to leave the editing until later. I need some inspiration. I’ve tried distracting myself, refocusing, starting fresh, plot diagramming, story boarding, eliminating distractions, food, caffeine intake, stretching, you-name-it, I’ve tried it. ACK! It’s not a true writers block – I can still write. I just don’t like what I write. I need to push through this part and get on with it.

There it is. As simple as that. I will leave this section and go on to the next. I will return later to tie the two together. Oh my God, I feel better already. Could it really be that simple? We shall see.

Meanwhile, the toona ho’s persist. Excuse me, I hear the can opener calling my name.

I Believe the Expression Is, “Born In a Barn, Were You?”

Wow… this took a long time to get up and running, but nonetheless, here it is. Life happens.

So I am in the delectably fortunate position of being taken on a vacation to the OBX (Outer Banks for those not in the know) soon. Why am I feeling so much trepidation? Several reasons I can pinpoint – primarily, my cats. My dear little fur piggies. MY CHILDREN. Go ahead – laugh now – get it out of your system. So anyway, one of the dilemmas of being single with pets is – who feeds them while you are away?

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My friends husband will be giving my babies their daily toonanomz. This is a good thing and for which, I am very grateful. However, he has one habit that I’m having trouble getting past. He forgets to close things… like doors. Not just occasionally. His wife (my best friend, also the one taking me to the OBX) and I have sat at her dining room table and watched him progress through their kitchen, which she has just finished cleaning, and systematically leave every cupboard, drawer and yes, even the refrigerator door standing wide open as he gets whatever it is he is searching for or desires to eat. He leaves car doors hanging open. Medicine cabinets… open. If its got a door, he’s leaves it open. It drives her crazy. It would drive me right over the edge. I mean all the way to Looneyville and then some. Probably one of the reasons that I’m still single. These little things would turn me into a serial killer.

Now, in all fairness, he’s a really good guy – kind, gentle, good provider, loves animals, kids, responsible (other than closing things), good sense of humor, smart, consistent, etc. He just gets lost in thought. Lost to the point of no return, at least not until a few hours later. That’s when he forgets to close things. Everything. This makes my stomach churn.

This brings me to his only other irritating trait. He constantly interrupts. It is impossible to have a conversation with him. He will not wait for you to finish a sentence. So this means every time I’ve tried to talk to him about feeding my CHILDREN, he has cut me off, started telling me how much they’ll hate me when I come home (guilt trip for leaving the cats and I suspect him too – make the best friend pay for it – yeah like I need to hear THAT), and, most irritatingly, the old “if they get hungry enough, they’ll eat anything” line. The man obviously does not know MY cats.

Here’s the thing – he’s also allergic to cats. We’ve managed to circumvent this problem when feeding my 4-legged children by moving their wet food dishes into the hallway, where he can reach the dishes, toonanomz, and can opener without coming into the house. I have nightmares about him getting lost in thought while he’s dispensing the toonanomz and then just turning around and walking away.

Cats are curious little creatures. Cats also don’t survive long outside where I live. That’s why my cats do not, have not, and will not ever go outside. They are strictly housecats. They need to stay inside at all times. It’s just too dangerous outside and unlike dogs, cats will not come when you call them – not unless you are their person and you have a handful of cat treats. And maybe not even then, depending on what else is going on. Cats will give you the paw and march on. It’s totally their call and they know it.

So this is driving me insane. Crazy to the point of being ill over it. Do I (A) Trust him to remember to close the damn door and pray to God he does? (B) Say screw it, cancel the wet food for the week and feed them only their normal dry crunchy food, circumventing the need for him to even open the door? (C) Not go on vacation at all and stop worrying about this altogether, risking the wrath of my best friend (his wife), (D) Try to talk to him ONE more time, hold my tongue if he interrupts me AGAIN, keep talking – persist in getting what I want to say out there? or (E) taking any and all suggestions in this slot.

My logic says it will probably be ok, but my gut says NO. My fear is overwhelming. All I know is, if I go away and return to find my fur babies gone or dead, I will never forgive myself for leaving and will probably never speak to him or my best friend again.

Failure–The Key Ingredient to the Successful Writing Career

Failure–The Key Ingredient to the Successful Writing Career.

Wow… one of the best blogs on failing successfully and learning the most from your failures that I’ve read in a LONG time! It completely turned around my bad attitude from this morning and pointed me in a more productive direction.

Kristen Lamb’s Blog is a great read. She has two best-selling books out there too. Check out We Are Not Alone–The Writer’s Guide to Social Media and Are You There, Blog? It’s Me, Writer . 

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Welcome to Table411

Hi! My name’s Leigh and I’ll be blogging on the joys, sorrows, humor and satire of being a mature single in today’s society. Table411 is a play on the all too familiar phrase most singles hear every time they dine out – “Table for one?” and getting the “411” on being single. So, based on my experience and mixed with a healthy dose of realism and/or fantasy, depending on my mood, I hope to share insights, tickle your funny bone, help you understand your single friends, or perhaps just let you know that even though you are single, you are not alone. Being single is a lifestyle choice that some have raised to an art form. We’re here to explore that art form and have some fun!

General Housekeeping –

Generally speaking, this is a blog with the intended audience being adults (over 18) although most of the content will be G, PG but on occasion, perhaps R (preceded by a disclaimer), but never X rated. Also, I welcome appropriate comments (on topic), however I do ask that you practice the Golden Rule when posting comments. This goes for your choice of language too. My blog – my rules. You want to spew filth? Go write your own blog. That only seems fair, now doesn’t it?

Oh yes, one more thing – this is not a “Cupid Service” and any posts (or links) requesting, hinting at, or otherwise alluding to a pick-up line (to anyone) will be deleted and the commenter banned. Do that sort of thing in your own little corner of cyberspace, folks. I reserve the right to delete and/or ban any commenter who can’t seem to follow these very simple rules.

Welcome to Table411, your table is waiting…