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Heeeeere kitty, kitty, kitty...

Two years ago the third and final of our longterm pets died, and for the first time in a very long time we were petless. For the first time possibly ever I got to pick the replacements. I chose Ragdoll cats because of their beautiful blue eyes, large size, and purported gentle demeanor. Here's a pic of them (Max and Mia) taken last year:

Mia (on the right) forgets the 'gentle demeanor' part every time she hears Caleb come in the house. She scoots all 15 pounds of herself up inside the back of John's recliner. Max, on the other hand, is at the boy's mercy unless I safely lock him (Max) in the laundry room. The best hiding place Max can think of is up on the kitchen counter, slightly behind the microwave. It's pathetic, really. Needless to say, Caleb spends a lot of time crammed up under the cabinets holding the cat just tight enough that he can't get away. Poor Max. He goes totally limp and looks forlornly off in the distance, as if playing dead will make the boy stop. Too bad he can't figure out a swift scratch or two would stop all this nonsense, but I don't think he ever will.

It's the weekend AGAIN?!

Saturday comes around about every 2.5 days here. I can't remember the last time 'Saturday' meant anything to me other than 'keeping Caleb'. Keeping Caleb busy is what I've come to realize is the smart thing to do. I'm a veritable "What's going on this weekend' resource as it behooves me to be armed with things to do. We have two parades a year here in Eureka. The 'rhody' parade in late April (yes, we celebrate rhododendron bushes), and the Trucker's Parade in early December (cement mixers, dump trucks, fire trucks, your uncle Bob's 56 pickup. As long as it's a truck; just put twinkling lights on it and you're in). The route is up H street, one street over from us. Before Caleb was born I was rather the humbug...just turning up the tv louder as I heard the sirens and horns passing by. Now....I haven't missed a one in four years. I feel like SUCH a dork, but I cry every time I go to these things. I mean, I manage to keep tears from streaming down my face, but it takes all my inner strength to do so. I think it's because this world we live in is so apathetic and downright crazy, that I still feel there's 'hope' represented in such down-homey traditions. I think also it's because after having lived in dozens of places before settling here 10 years ago, I've finally found a sense of community, and that's become terribly important to me. Honestly, I cry at Hallmark commercials, but doesn't the fact that these old men still dress up silly and hunker down in miniature cars make you wax nostalgic, too?

I took several more pics, but so did Caleb and apparently when he dropped my camera the disc got dislodged so really neither of us were taking pictures anymore.

After the parade we rode the bike up to Henderson Center where they had a little street fair going on. Caleb wanted to go in the bounce house. It was billed as $3 for 5 minutes. Well, I guess all they really cared about was the $3 because after 45 MINUTES I could not coax him out of there and had to kick off my shoes and shimmy my self through this little opening to go in and get him. All the other kids kept jumping around while Caleb plastered himself to the farthest wall cracking up at me on my hands and knees trying to bounce my way over to get him. grrr. I got a round of applause when I made it safely back out with the boy in tow.