Pink Hair, Dog Pee and Paranoia

Newt is having another good day, yippy! It’s me I’m starting to worry about. 

No, no, everything is fine.  Just behind schedule, and still have too many projects in process.  Tried to take the day off yesterday, to get AWAY from the monitor and try and get my head back on track.  Good plan, while it lasted.  Didn’t get to go to the spinning meeting, but crashed the local knitters meeting and met some ueber nice Ravelers, – a couple of them even recognized Newt from my knitting bag.  COOL!  My evil plan of world domination (or at least spreading the news about possible liver shunts in copper-eyed cats) is working!

After that, scavenged for some more things to use for the Ghandi wheels that are languishing on my workbench. Got two calls for emergency holistic wooowoo stuff in the evening, and didn’t get home til almost midnight. 

Today’s plan was to finish everything that did not get done yesterday, but, not a lot of progress yet.  Completed the final draft of the new CD cover, then went to the dog park and experienced my first Dog Park Knitting Disaster.

Upon entering, The Dog peed on my shoes (yes, the fabulous, custom-painted shoes from last year).  Then, another dog peed on my knitting bag. Fortunately, not IN the bag, or on the yarn, but now I’m all paranoid, thinking that I, and everything around me, smells like dog pee.  Is it deja vu all over again from last year?

Nah, last year, it was Cat Pee Paranoia.

Oh, and I’m having an overwhelming urge to dye my hair.  Pink. I’ve never dyed my hair in my life, but the few times the thought has cropped up, pink does seem to be the preferred colour.

Methinks I need more than a half day vacation to get my brain functioning normally again.  Either that, or I should just go snurf some more Newt.  That always makes everything all better …

Mired in Inertia

I’m tired.  Or simply lazy.  Or maybe turning back into my reclusive wintry popsicle slug.  Whatever it is, it needs to go AWAY.

Newt is well.  In fact, he has been the major contributor to my lack of get up and go for the last two days.  He’s been in fine form – quite lovey and affectionate, and determined to clean the persistent smoodge from my chin that apparently only he can see.  (Trust me, I’ve looked, trying to determine just WHY he so insistently cleans my face!)

Cat Daddy says that I’m hooked on Kitty crack, and Newt is my supplier, and I would snort him with a straw if I could.  But who needs a straw when that soft polka-dotted fur is nestled next to my nose for hours on end?

So I’m blaming my Schnookie for my sluggishness.  I was able to excuse the blahs for a few days as being my post-Sheep Fest recovery period.  And then I got motivated, and have bits and pieces of things scattered around to upcycle into spinning machines,  Crocheted a turtle for Cat Daddy that he easily recognized as actually looking rather turtle-esque. Woohoo.  Only now, Cat Daddy has decreed that I should make MORE turtles and add them to Newt’s shop.  Uhm … son, have you ANY idea how slooooooow I go?  It would take a long time to generate chicken money from turtles!

Lots of things tornadoing around in my mind – laying out and stocking inventory for Newt’s shop, migrating Newt’s social networking site to a new location, moving his website onto its own server instead of free-hosting (both of which are main motivators for opening Newt’s shop),

So, there’s lots I could and should be doing.  But it turned cold.  And I’m sleepy.  And whiny.  And instead of being productive, I’ve been lollygagging under my down comforter on the couch, snuggled with my own little furry generator, New New.

Oops, gotta go, apparently the mysterious smoodge has reappeared, and must be cleaned Right Now …


Am beginning to suspect I may be a bit … obsessive.  OK fine, I’m definitely obsessive when it comes to my little Schnookums. And it’s possible those tendencies may creep into other aspects of my life. Like this new phase I’m going thru.  You know, with the sheep, and the bunnies, and the spinning? 

I’ve been telling Cat Daddy since Wednesday that Newt wasn’t quite right. Oh, nothing we could put our finger on, but you know how it is with our shunt babies.  We seem to know when a whisker is out of place … at forty paces …. in the dark … blindfolded.  And *something* just wasn’t right with him.  The feeling made no sense, as we’ve both been saying how good he looks, all sleek and glossy.  In fact, we caught the little brat sitting in the pizza pan on top of the stove, and his little poochy poo was puddled around his hind legs. New nickname – Dough Boy, and yes, we got a picture LOL.

But, he was just … quiet.  A bit too quiet.  Definitely wanted his snuggles, and even wanted his sling. Very odd, as usually he doesn’t ask for his sling unless he’s deep in an episode.  Also caught him half-crouchy during one of my nocturnal ramblings.  He didn’t even try to crawl into the fridge, so I direct dosed his Lact, checked for drool – you know the drill.

He’s also been off his feed, only finishing about half of his meals yesterday.  But still foraging on the pizza dish, go figure! Did not eat most of his 7AM breakfast, and was slightly drooling by 730.  Direct dosed his meds, let him chill out in his box.  He ate maybe half of his lunch, more direct dose with Lact.  Staggered out of his room in the afternoon for an ooze around the house and a bit of sunshine in the window. 

Drool was gone by the 7PM feeding, when he attacked the (freshly roasted, Cheap Chicken Friday) chicken with gusto.  Mixed some into his veggie mix, where he ate little.  Is now wheezing a bit here in the Annex Box’s Annex – his newest spot.  A cardboard box I’d set on the shelf to sort thru shred papers, and hadn’t yet removed.  Cat Daddy agreed that of course, we can’t move the box NOW, because it’s Pookie’s new spot LOL.  Sheesh do we rearrange our house, as well as our lives, for this kitty?  Uhm … YEAH, I guess we do LOLOL

So yes, I’ll admit it freely.  I’m obsessed with my shunt cat!  And why wouldn’t I be? He has brought such joy into our lives, and we laugh all the time at his silly antics and adorable spotted self.

I’m a bit more hesitant to admit that I’m currently also obsessed with something besides shunted spotted tabbies.  With sheep.  And spinning.  I’m hoping it’s a phase, but so far, it’s showing no sign of diminishing. 

In fact, I have pieces of two box charkhas halfway assembled in my workroom, and Cat Daddy had to physically stop me from cannibalizing the lawn mower so as to harvest a wheel to finish the kick spindle I’m making.  And it’s a good thing the neighbor pedals faster than I can run, am afraid I’d be trying to take their bike away to go with the pvc squirreled away, and make the spinning wheel that’s going round in my brain.

I’ve heard of counting sheep to go to sleep, but am really beginning to feel a bit silly about visions of sheep and spinning wheels and fleeces and fat designer yarn haunting my every dream!

So what’s YOUR obsession / passion?  What engages your brain when not wiping drool, giving meds, adjusting diet, or simply gazing in awe at your perfect little kitty shunt baby?