New Year?

New years, new years resolutions, goals, hopes, dreams – whatever you want to call them. Did you make one this year? I kinda did. I resolved to be better. Just better. Well, maybe more organized. I want to read again. Write. Create worlds for the characters that are clamoring to live outside of my head. At least, I hope they want out of my head. I hope they’re not just yelling for the heck of it, you know? ‘Cuz that would make me a nut case, or something. Hush Bebo!!! Answer emails – now that would be nice. I’m getting really terrible at that. Send out thank you notes for the Christmas surprises – you know who you are, and yes, I’ll thank you, personally, in an email. Honest. Blog again – visit my old friends. Find my old friends. LOL

But mostly, read. I miss that. I really miss getting immersed in a good book, losing myself in the story, whether it be romance or mystery, fantasy, history – I don’t care, just read.

So, what do you want out of this new year?

And yeah, that's my baileyboo!!!

Aidan's Turn

Aidan here. Mother was going to have Seamas blog again, but I begged her not to subject you to any more of his “LOLz” cat speak, so to say. I hate that site; it’s such an insult to us superior felines. Anyway, we’re adjusting fine without Neely Shae, although I must admit that I do miss my favorite target. Bailey and Seamas aren’t as fun to attack. And I said Bailey. I don’t care if there’s some sort of mix-up with his and mother’s names. BooBear is ridiculous. How could any self-respecting feline hold up his head with a name like BooBear? I know, mother calls me Aidan Maiden, so who am I to speak, right? I.hate.Aidan Maiden. In case I’m not clear enough – Aidan Maiden sucks eggs. She even has a little poem for me: Aidan Maiden, pudding pie. Kissed the kits and made them cry. When Aidan Maiden came out to play, all the kits they ran away. Can you imagine going through life with that sticking to you? It’s either that or Secret Aidan Man. If I have to have one or the other, I’ll take Secret Aidan Man because at least it’s male.

Mother has been having a bit of a bad week. The sale of the house isn’t going through as soon as she, and obviously Uncle David, thought it would. So here’s mother packing to move into an apartment she can’t afford. It’s all Uncle David’s fault and if he were here I’d pee on his foot. He doesn’t like cats anyway, so what harm would it do? I could leave a little present in his shoe too, if you know what I mean. I don’t mind getting a little crass when it comes to protecting my mother.

I heard mother say the other day that she just doesn’t get to blog as much as she used to. What with all of this packing and cleaning, she doesn’t have the time. I know, you see her on MySpace a lot. She’s not always there. Mother has this habit of leaving the computer on and logged into the site. Whenever she gets a message or something, it “cachings” (that’s the closest to the sound I can get) rather loudly and she comes running to answer it. It’s pathetic if you ask me, sort of like Pavlov’s dogs. Anyway, once she’s settled into her new place, she’ll get back to a routine. Whatever that is. And she’ll be able to look for a job again. I’ve been told she needs one badly. I don’t know why, wouldn’t a purr, nuzzle and lick get her most things in life? It works for us.

Dere Humanz

We have takin ovur the compooter. If u do not meet r demanz, u wil not see mommie Bailey agin.

1. catnip, lots of it
6. tuna. Nun of that watur crap, reel oyl.
18. milk, reel cow stuff
3. toys
8. comfy bed, fore of them


signed,
the katz

(eccept fur bubba, the cow-word)

Test

This is just a test to see how this will look. Guess I'll start with a picture of my almost 9 month old kitten Bailey - or Baileyboo to those who know and love him. Isn't he cute? He's such a baby - but being a feral cat, he still has a little wildness in him. I caught him at approximately 3 months old, then found out he had ringworm (yikes) so he spent the first three months of his life in this house in a kennel. I would let him out in my mother's bathroom every once in a while, but with other cats in the house we had to be careful. He kind of walked funny at first, but is doing fine now. And he's getting a little less skittish every day. He and Devlin have fun - a little loud, but what would you expect from a 9 month old and an 11 month old. Oh, and this is Devlin. I got him at 1 day old - yes, he's a handfed baby. He's little for his age and always will be because he had a parasite from birth that caused him to not gain weight for about 3 weeks during a crucial growing time. He's very loving, more loving than any other cat I've ever owned. "They" say that's the way with handfed kittens.

Well, I guess this is the end of the test. Now I'm off to play with the rest of the blog.