A Kitten's Tale

Hello, hi there, hey y'all! Guest posting today on the blog is your one and only AJ Tiger John Wayne. That's me, right there, the suave and handsome guy in the photo.

Got that? Suave and handsome. I don't want to hear anyone even breathe the word 'cute' in my presence. There are many other 'c' words at your disposal such as 'cool', 'confident', 'charismatic', and a brilliant sense of humor.

That last one is actually not a 'c' word. I just wanted you to know.

It's a hard life around this place for sure. *yawn*

So I moved in with the O. Family about a month or so ago and have gotten along rather well with everyone. Pretty much. Have you seen the furry lump they keep around this place that might as well be a vegetable instead of a feline?

Uh huh. Him. Oliver. No, I'm not sharing a photo of him. I noticed he gets enough space of this blog devoted to him already. Me, I sort of have a love/hate relationship with the guy. My immediate thought when I first saw him was 'Country Bumpkin Pumpkin.' So I told him so. And that seemed to get our introduction off on the wrong paw. But I was just being honest. He does look like a big fur covered pumpkin.

I do like him well enough, especially as he makes a great fluffy punching bag and will occasionally put his paw around me when he's having a good day. Which isn't often.

To put it bluntly, the guy's a grump.

Case in point, I snuck up on him yesterday as he was doing what he does best: sleeping. (I really think he believes it to be an extreme sport). I decided he wasn't losing any pounds just lying there like a blob, so I grabbed him around the neck with my paws to heft him up. It wouldn't be an easy task for the average kitten as the guy has to weigh at least ninety to five hundred pounds. But you'll notice in the above photo that my paws and claws are made of steel and could easily rip through the leg of an antelope with a single swipe.

My middle name is Tiger, after all. I'm pretty sure it's what I'd be doing if I'd ended up on the Serengeti instead of this place.

Anyway, I hefted his head up with my mighty paws and was met with hisses, growls, and yes, even a snarl. 

Well, excuseee me for not seeing the 'No Touchy' sign, pal. Just go ahead and gain more weight lying there all day.

It's true. Yesterday, he slept in the same spot beside the front door for eight hours. *taps microphone with paw* Eight hours, people. Now if I were to pull a stunt like that, my owners would scoop me up to pat me and shake me and hug me while contemplating why I was so lethargic (their word, not mine). I know. It's happened before. A guy like me can't take a nap around here without his health being questioned.

The constant attention can definitely get a bit stressful. Earlier, I was trying to decide who had placed the rug upside down on the carpet. The tags were showing and it looked tacky.

 That's when I felt eyes...or something...on me thanks to my keen awareness abilities.

Abandoning my contemplation of the tacky rug, I glanced up to find Erin pointing that camera of hers in my direction. Again. 

Sheesh. The paparazzi never ceases. I have someone looking at me or holding me almost every second of the day. Between you and me, I believe that Erin and her sister, Elisabeth, are experiencing 'Youngest Brother has Grown and There is no Longer a Baby in the House to Cuddle' syndrome. Don't laugh. I've heard it's common. 

The fact that they're relieving their anxiety by coddling me has its perks and pitfalls.

 A perk? They'll do anything I ask. I have them trained that well. Illustration of my point? The youngest sister, Ellie, has a violin stand with little metal stringlike things that swing when brushed against. I saw it from below and was staring at it, thinking how much fun it would be to bat with my paw.

I heard an 'Awww' from above and was suddenly lifted to my destination.

One kitty going up.

I explored the stand to my heart's content and was only put down when I told my flunky- I mean, when I told Elisabeth she could do so.

After I was lowered, I scampered off to another corner of the room. That's when I heard Elisabeth say that I was so cute. (I'm used to it as I hear the word about every waking moment). And Erin remarked that she hoped I'd never do anything dumb like run into the road. I thought she was being considerate until she added, "Especially not after the bill from his last veterinarian's appointment."

Maybe she was being humorous, I don't know. I thought it rather morbid and uncouth of her, but didn't say so. Given time, I'm sure she'll learn one important fact of life:

The cost of flea treatment is overshadowed by the payment of pure love.

Does that make sense? It sounds good. You have my permission to add it to your collection of inspirational quotes or to use it as a Facebook status. I've got a million of 'em.

Come to think of it, I should share it with Erin using my best John Wayne impersonation (oh, yes, I do a mean impersonation of 'The Duke.'). That should make it resonate in her soul and take root. She sighs at anything he says anyway.

Now, I hear you asking what's one of the pitfalls to the constant attention I receive and I'll tell you. 

Nicknames. The names I've heard myself called include (but are not limited to):

Mongoose

Baby

Chuckles

Muzzy

Maxwell

Sweetie-kins

And last, but certainly not least:

Mr. Muffle Puffles.

If they were only embarrassing me from my ears to the tip of my tail, I could handle it. But when someone outright offends my masculinity... I mean, one of my names is John Wayne, after all. You wouldn't hear them calling him Chuckles or...Mr. Muffle Puffles.

So yes, it's a life filled with grumps, kitten huggers, and blush-worthy nicknames, but I've learned to be patient with the individuals in my life for the most part. I mainly just keep silent about their faults. What's done is done and you won't hear me bringing it up again.

But for the record, I don't chuckle. I purr. I meow. I roar.

I don't chuckle.

It's anyone's guess where they got that one.

The Individual's Guide to Living With Gnats

During the summer in South Georgia, there are two types of conversation starters that you will likely hear most:

A) "It sure has been hot, hasn't it?"

and  

B) "The gnats are terrible this year, aren't they?"

Of these two questions, B) will often receive the most intense response. Why? Few people know the summer definition of torment until they have spent several hours fanning away hoards of gnats. The heat might be excruciating, but the swarms of these creatures attacking your being from every side succeeds in quadrupling the agony.

You know the classic scene from the movie "Singin' in the Rain" where the main character does a perfectly choreographed song and dance? Here, we reenact that scene every time we step outdoors. "Singin' in the Gnats" is what we call it. We skip outdoors with a smile on our face and a song on our lips.

Well, it's actually more of a Eeyore-ish trudge at the chore of going outside. And we're really not smiling. And we try to keep the song in our hearts because if we opened our mouths, the gnats would fly in.

Other than that though, it's almost identical.

If you're a citizen of South Georgia, then you understand what we mean and will join in the conversation with gusto to detail your intense dislike of our resident gnats.

If you're a visitor from a northern state or even North Georgia, you're likely not engaging in conversation at all. You've either wound up in the emergency room with gnatatic shock or have lost consciousness altogether. The gnats don't mind. It gives them opportunity to swarm without receiving resistance.

Whether you're a local or a visitor to our gnat-infested great state, the following guide with its breathtaking illustrations will offer solutions and tips for effectively dealing with the miniscule creatures that some believe are conspiring to take over the world. 

Read for your safety, sanity, and the fact that it's always nice to avoid a trip to the ER from gnatatic shock.

There's nothing more annoying than trying to eat while a group of tiny insects flock your food. There's also nothing more annoying than hearing the traditional responses to complaints in this area of "Oh, they won't eat much" or "Just ignore the gnats and eat. If you swallow a few, that's alright. They're nutritious."

The jury's still out on whether that last one holds any gnat of truth. We have our doubts.

One guaranteed solution to your gnat dilemma is to position yourself in front of a small electric fan. Its cool breeze will send the critters flying. Yes, this is indeed the answer to your problem.

Except you won't be able to move away from the fan. Or get any work done. For the gnats will attack your face the second you step out of the line of blowing air.

 While the previous solution might have been riddled with a few holes, this next idea is sure to work. It is genius in its simplicity, really, and won't cost you a cent. 

Stay inside.

That's right. Hide in the safety of your home 24/7 with the doors locked and the blinds closed. You might become as pale as mayonnaise during the summer months from lack of sunshine, but you will have successfully avoided the pesky gnats.

Except that you won't have any means of accessing food. Or interacting with others. And there is the small fact that gnats have the curious habit of finding their way indoors no matter what you do.

This next technique is fairly easy to master for Southerners and Northerners alike and will solve your gnat afflictions better than the first two solutions. It requires sticking out your bottom lip, like so, and blowing upward.

Try it a few times right now. As always, practice makes perfect. Don't be discouraged if you fail to master this technique the first or thirtieth time around. When you do, it will change your life.

Except that it's difficult to talk and blow at the same time. Which will limit your conversational ability. And we have received reports in the past of broken bottom lips due to overuse.

If the previous solutions still have not worked for you, fear not. We have saved the best for last. Take a moment to look down at the appendages on the ends of your arms.

That's right! You have not one, but TWO hands! While the first is occupied with doing whatever task you've set out to accomplish, the other may fan the gnats away. It will take time to master doing everything with one hand, but we're confident in your ability. Plus, you will look like a friendlier person as most will assume you're waving at them.

It's a win/win technique.

We're looking forward to learning about the lives that have been changed from reading this guide.

Hey, peoples, I've been out of town, so I haven't been commenting back as I should, but I did want to let you know how much I appreciate your comments on the past two posts. Also, the link-up on my photo challenge hasn't been working--it's fixed now, but I've extended the deadline until August 8th. :)

{Three Things} That Normal People Wouldn't Do

There are things, certain oddities, that normal people simply wouldn't do.

Below you will find lovely examples that illustrate what I mean.

1. In the first place, normal people wouldn't find themselves stretched out on the ground in the front yard with corners of the brick walkway gouging into their hands and knees. And they certainly wouldn't be doing it to photograph an ant hill.

Especially not an ant hill they thought resembled a miniature castle.

Normal people wouldn't smile at the irony of the ant population building their kingdom ant hill in front of the 'Welcome' sign and hurry to take more pictures.

Normal people probably wouldn't try to convince you that those little rises in the castle ant hill really do resemble turrets and towers.

No, normal people probably wouldn't do that.

2. Normal people wouldn't spend several minutes of their time photographing their mother's childhood globe and smile with satisfaction at their supposed flawless photo of an American schoolroom.

Normal, observant people would have already come to the realization that Australia has changed locations and is closer to where the North Pole should be.

And normal people probably wouldn't console themselves with the thought that their discovery saved their homeschooled siblings from future failure in the subject of geography...only to realize that it is still summer vacation.

3. Normal people wouldn't think that eggplants looked like a little elfin couple. And they certainly wouldn't spend five minutes photographing the elves--I mean, eggplants. No, normal people wouldn't do that.

They certainly wouldn't name the little eggplants either. This blog author might, but she wouldn't share those names. Names that made her family laugh and tell the blog author that she simply was not right. She certainly would not share those with you.

Dearest blog reader, I have reached the startling conclusion that I am not normal. But that's okay. It's those who are not normal--the people who sing in the rain, fly kites in a storm, and...photograph eggplants--these are the individuals whose names will forever live in the annals of history one day.

Or so I'm willing to believe.

Love and normalcy always,
~Erin