It’s very true that sometimes, life comes at you fast. Usually when it does, it’s at the least opportune time possible such as the week before you are supposed to go on vacation or when you have a really great deal on getting your disgusting, awful carpet replaced. Life tends to throw wrenches in the most detail oriented plans though. Plans change and not always by your own deciding.

I can clearly in my mind picture the first time that I got to know Calvin. He was a strange cat to me at that time and he was pretty unsure of me. We weren’t on petting terms yet and he pretty much kept his distance most of the time. The first evening that I met him, I crashed on Jason’s couch as there had been much drinking and the night was late and walking home was not a desireable option. I awoke early that morning (probably around 7) and came face to face with Calvin. He was sitting on the floor staring at me. Eventually he jumped up on the couch with me and snuggled down for a nap and I was careful not to move or to try and pet him as I knew that would send him running.

Last week along with raccoons, Calvin went to the vet. He’s been throwing up, his appetite wasn’t what it normally is and he was generally just very clingy. Not that I mind. I’m willing to hold him if he wants to be held, for as long as he wants. It’s pretty much the only thing I can do for him. While he was at the vet he had blood work done and the results came back that he’s got some thyroid problems and will need medication for a month and then surgery.

It’s kind of scary for me. I’m a big fan of being in control. I like to plan things out and know what to expect before I walk into a situation. I don’t like there to be any room for error or unknowns. I’m sure that these type of things happen to cats all the time but this time it’s my cat. It’s hard because he can’t tell me that it hurts. He can tell me he doesn’t feel good. I can’t kiss it and make it better.

All I can do is continue to offer him my lap and cuddles when he needs them and help him to get past this hurdle.

It’s been raining for what feels like years. This past weekend’s nice weather seems like it was a lifetime ago or some imaginary tale that someone cooked up to entertain us. Could it possibly be true that there are days when water doesn’t fall from the sky? Does the sky change to any other color other than dismal gray? It’s funny how the moment the sun comes out the memory of the dismal bleakness that are rainy days drifts away and the moment that we experience long stretches of rain it feels like there is no end in sight.

I’m not sure if I’ve previously mentioned it here, but we used to have a wood burning stove in our basement. We have since relocated it to the garage and Jason stuffed the hole with some insulation to block it up. Which was fine until the center started to be pulled in. At that point in time he put one of the pipes back into the wall, stuffed it with some more insulation and put some foam around it to hold it in place. Which worked.

That was until the pipe started to move on it’s own accord. There were scratching sounds and shuffling about at random times within the pipe. We really didn’t think much of it other than a squirrel got down the chimney until the sounds go dramatically louder.. and the newest layer of insulation started to sink inward from the grip of some unseen force.

Last night when the sounds started Jason decided (with it raining) that it was time to take action. One of us was going to beat on the pipe and create noise to scare the squirrel out. The other was going to take a flashlight and go outside to see what came out the other end. I opted for the beating of the pipe on the dry indoors side of things. I’d rather be the one who pissed the thing off than the one who the pissed off thing first saw.

So I beat on the pipe and Jason finally came back inside and stood in the doorway (a bit wet I might add).  When I inquired about what the squirrel looked like he told me it wasn’t a squirrel at all. What could it possibly be? I asked. And that’s when the news smacked me full in the face. It wasn’t a squirrel, it was a momma raccoon and her three little babies. They perched on the roof until I stopped beating the on the pipe and then they’d scurried back down the chimney like a masked and furry Santa.

I will say that at first I didn’t believe him but I went through the motions of believing him. We went to lowes to buy some chicken wire to make a small cage to screw over the end of the pipe just in case momma decided to dig a little bit further inward.

When we arrived back Jason got the flashlight and Momma was again perched at the top of the chimney. I took the flashlight at this point and tried in vein to see through the trees and rain and came up empty. It wasn’t until I ventured to the side of the house that the chimney is on and stood next to it, shining my flashlight at the very top that I saw her. And she saw me. There, sticking out of the chimney from the nose up, was the one in question. We stared at each other for a few minutes and then, without so much as a word uttered between us, she slowly lowered herself elevator style back down into the cosy confines of my chimney.

I think its worth noting that it was at this point that panic set in. Not that I was scared of her, but she was protecting her babies and I didn’t want her anywhere near my own. After a fun call to the Pennsylvania Game Commission (Ghostbuster’s number was busy) I set up an appointment with a pest control agency that handles wildlife to come Friday afternoon (The young gentleman on the other end of the phone obviously didn’t feel that a raccoon and her young that were LIVING IN MY CHIMNEY and only a few tugs of insulation away from being all up in my basement was a life threatening wildlife sitauation like I did) and set up traps and remove them to some remote location that is not my chimney.

I can’t really say that I blame her for wanting to live there.. I do after all.

Sometimes the wisest words come from the mouths of children. Sometimes those children happen to be cartoon characters. Does that make their words any less true? I don’t think so. That’s why when Lucy Van Pelt said to Charlie Brown “You need involvement.” I listened. Who was I to disagree?

That’s also why when I was asked this weekend if I mountain biked I said no, but that it sounded like a lot of fun. What it sounded like to me was hard and grueling but I decided to lie to myself and think about how much fun it would be, how the sights would be wonderful and how the breezes would feel and how, after the alloted 30 minutes of biking we could all sit in the shade and laze about. I was especially excited when I was told that we’d just be going around town to take it easy on me since I’d never gone biking before for any amount of distance and the last time I was on a bike I was probably about 12.

In some cases I was very right (in retrospect, it was a blast) , in others I was very very horribly wrong. The bike ride itself was three hours long, much like the famed sea tour, but oh.. was it ever a wonderful day to be outside. The sun was shining, the clouds were beautiful and the town? Well.. it’s a lot bigger (and has way more hills) than it was in my head. I think that I spent the better part of the bike ride gasping for air and pleading for a swift death.

To their credit, the friends that took me were very patient with me lagging behind. They knew. They’d been where I was (gasping for air like a fish out of water) and they took the opportunity that I afforded them to catch their breath as they waited at the top of (all) the steeper hills. They put up with my talking like a sailor and the awful death rattle sounds that I made and really, what more could you ask for in a friend?

I learned some valueable lessons from my experience yesterday. Gel seats are not always good, khaki shorts shouldn’t be worn.. go for lighter clothing, and you can never have enough water. Oh and sunscreen would be a good idea unless you want a cool magic now you see it now you don’t tan on your arms.

I also now totally understand why motorized bicycles have been invented. I was tempted many times to pull over along the side of the bike path and hope some nice stranger happened by who would attach a rope to my bike and tow me up the hill.

Today I am incredibly sore from the gel seat that I’m certain is a torture device of some sort and not really a bike seat and my legs are a little stiff but all in all it was a wonderful experience and I can’t wait to go and try to kill myself again. The scenery was wonderful, the weather was great and the company couldn’t be beat.

Today was a pretty sucktastic day as has been the week. I was pretty grouchy today, beginning this morning when I realized, as I stepped out of the car in the parking lot at work, that the grapes that I had packed were sitting in the living room. I skipped eating breakfast this morning so I could wash and pack some black seedless grapes and I figured I’d eat some for breakfast, some for a snack and my day would be all the better for it because I’d be eating grapes! Yeah.. not so much.

So instead of being grumpy any longer (because really, you can only scowl at nothing for so long) I’m going to list a few things that make me smile so that hopefully I can remember that the stupid people of the world aren’t always standing in the front of the line. This is just a short list of the first things that come to mind.

• Good friends
• Found kitty whiskers
• cold beer on a hot day
• mangos
• fresh fruit
• avacados… any way I can get them
• freshly squeezed lemonade
• the cold side of the pillow
• the beach
• icy cold drinks with frost on the glasses
• unexpected pleasant surprises
• hearing from long lost friends
• random acts of kindness
• bringing a smile to someone’s face
• homecooked meals