Today actually affords me a little time to myself. So, naturally, I'm going to scrub floors. I'll never have the floor anyone can eat off of, except the cats. And yet, every now and then I scrub floors and carpets. So many memories of my mother cleaning floors crowd my brain.
Our house is a dump-in-progress, due to too many cats and not enough maintenance. They shred the furniture, the wallpaper and the woodwork. Years ago, when I felt my newborn was threatened, I had my cats declawed, for her protection. It was an appalling sight that still makes me blanch with guilt, just at the memory. So I patch the furniture, replace the panels of wallpaper, and constantly plot sanding expeditions to repair the woodwork. Been looking for something to spray that wouldn't be obnoxious to my sensitive nose. Haven't found it yet.
Before I hit the floors and carpets, I scoured my favorite blogs:
Afghan warrior on the residual (we hope) effects of the Taliban in his land: need we ever doubt that they are still a threat to all peace-loving people?
Winds of Change salutes one of our newer citizens and his take on Blogging, Democracy, and Freedom of Speech. Makes me proud of my country.
Something strange has been blogging itself at Burning Bird. Had to follow up on her Squid Hunting references. The technical stuff overwhelms me, but squid I can understand.
Hooray for the Cotillion! Let's not be ashamed to blog our babies. I admit it: I'm a sucker for those chubby cheeks and innocent stares.
Finally, one heck of a Kitty Fix. Shhhh. Don't say the F word outloud; my Big ole Bubba, doesn't know he's neutered. Enjoy. Courtesy of my everloving Blogmother, Sissy, who tosses in a lovely sunrise and her own little gremlin poolside.
The floors await. Quick, before Granddog Ellie gets up.
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Little Pond
Too late. She's now at my heels, waiting for her walk.
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