Undecorating

I definitely don't like that word.

I had a nifty idea though on storing my ornament trees. I definitely did not want to have to reassemble them next year.

Take off the top glass ball and put a cork on the knitting needle. I bought corks today at the store when I was buying more plastic containers.

Decorating our tree is often a little more difficult than it should be, and we always have ornaments that we can't seem to locate that are in a box with un-like items, like maybe with stockings or the sit-around decorations. Then we have ornaments strewn all over the place because there are so many in one box, and tissue paper and bubble wrap, and chaos in general.

I knew there had to be a better way for us, and it was smaller containers. I also separated out most of the kids' ornaments into their own boxes. They will either still go on the big tree next year or on a tree in their own room. Either way, that's their box to put on that no one else touches.

I have one box that is just glass balls (special ones). It's the fabric-looking red box on the left. I purchased lots of glass balls on clearance this year that are still in boxes. I wanted them for crafting next year. They are in a couple of large plastic bins on the floor.

Our Hallmark ornaments were another issue for me. Every year we take them out and put them back in the boxes they came in. It's cumbersome. But some of them need to be there for protection. I decided that all of our Hallmark train ornaments could be kept out of the boxes and put in one small box together, simply bubble-wrapped. It will be so much faster. (I kept the boxes and put them in a larger container 'just in case.')

I labeled almost every box. I can see in them now, but next year when we get ready to put things away it will make it much simpler.

Every year when I get out the Buffalo Snow, Caboose gets out some animals and adds them in for decorating. I've taken down the ornament tree, but I'm not sure what the cat's going to do if I take away the rest. He's become rather accustomed to the comfy spot with extra heat from the fireplace. He doesn't have to wait on the vents to blow anymore.

I still have to take the lights off the tree and take it apart. And figure out what to do about the cat.

♫ ♪ Later On ♫

♪ ♫ we'll conspire... ♪ ♫

or in the case of at least one of my kids, we'll perspire.

That child, which shall remain unnamed, told me on Sunday that they (so I don't identify whether it's a he or a she) just figured out what the word was in the song. They'd always wondered, because they didn't think it was perspire, but that made sense since they were by a fire and all. So that had to be it.

We have a cat who is not conspiring or perspiring by the fire, just enjoying it as a source of heat.

This is the first winter we've used the fireplace since it had a noxious smell every other time we'd tried to turn it on. This fall, we opened all the windows and ran it for about 10-12 hours to burn off all the smell, which had something to do with the seal and I don't know what else. It worked.

So now the cat is no longer having to use the heater vents as a way to keep warm.

He seems to be totally okay with that.

Cooler Weather

It's finally here! You can tell around our house because the cat can be found on top of the vent.

He can also locate any little sliver of warm sun.

I Don't Look Like The Dog I Don't Have, But I Do Think Like The Cat I Do Have Looks Like

Huh?

It will just take me a little bit to get there, plus some digressing along the way.

Yesterday Betsy did a post about people looking like their dogs, and apparently people who buy purebreds are more likely to look like them. There are studies that show that.

Of course my first thought after I got done looking at her post after I got done giggling was that the pictures reminded me of those Lipitor commercials where people and food look alike.

I don't have a dog, so I can't look like my dog, but I do have a cat. He's black and white. I don't look like him either. The cat I had the year before I left for college was black and white also. I didn't look like him either.

Here's our cat, Silly, that was adopted as a stray cat when I was 17 and a senior in high school. I took this because it was very E.T.-ish.

The story of how he came to be ours was this:

1. You first have to know that we lived in a subdivision that was at the bottom of a mountain, and our house was going up the side a little. We had large ditches for rain water, and large round concrete drain pipes under our driveways so the rain would keep going from the ditches on each side.
2. My sister heard a cat in the next-door neighbor's concrete drain pipe walking home from the school bus. He lived 'below' us, as in he got our rain water.
3. We got the cat to take bologna slices. He'd snatch them and take them back to the middle of the pipe.
4. We eventually got the cat to come up to the corner of the house behind the tree/bush.
5. We got the cat to come up to the porch.
6. At this point my mom said we weren't having a cat for a pet.
7. Then we weren't ever having a cat in the house.
8. The cat was never sleeping in the house.
9. The cat could only sleep in the laundry room, which was really an added-on finished room.
10. Eventually the cat became an only indoor cat. He got shot in the shoulder and was missing a few days.
11. When my mom had breast cancer and lost all her hair from her chemotherapy, the cat slept up on top of her head and kept it warm.

I just love how that all worked out!

When we decided to get a cat for our little family of six, I went to PetSmart first to check out what was available for adoption. The black and white cat caught my eye. They always do!

He had an awesome personality, so Hubby packed the kids up in the other vehicle, already bathed and in their summer pj's, and brought them up to see how he did. We took him home that night.

His name was Topeka, and since Caboose couldn't say it and I wasn't crazy about it, we shortened it to Peka.

He likes the vents in the winter in Michigan. He's a Southern cat.

I always tell people how much I loved algebra in school and despised geometry (with every fiber of my being). It's because algebra is black and white and geometry is very gray (those proofs were my demise).

That's why I'm an accountant. Definitely black and white. There is always a right answer. It always has to balance. If it doesn't, you figure out why.

Thus, I think like my cat's (cats') colors.

Silly had a pink nose, Peka has a black one, and when my mom visits she calls Peka, "Silly Peka." Unnecessary for my thought process, but the kids all think it's funny that she calls him that.

Now Hubby looking like our cat?

What a Difference a Year Makes

Or not.

This is Peka last January.

This was him as soon as it started getting really cold this winter.

As soon as I switched out and put my heavier duvet cover on the bed, he started getting up there to sleep during the day. It's fluffier and so he sinks into it more.

At least somebody, or something, has figured out how to acclimate in this weather.

I'm just a little jealous of the naps on my bed during the day.

Some People In Our House Think He's A Little Spoiled

What do you think?

It started in Illinois. Chatty probably was the guilty party. I remember once when we got home from a trip somewhere, and our neighbor that had taken care of him while we were gone talked about how whenever she'd start to walk down the hall, he'd race down in front of her and jump on the bathroom counter. She couldn't figure it out.

He has a water bowl. And it actually sits right outside of this first floor half-bath. Even when it has just been filled, he will often prefer his fresh water in a Dixie cup.

Why? I have no idea. Maybe it's a power play.

Maybe we should teach him a lesson while he covers up his face to all his cares in the world. Like he has any! Yep, he covers his face.

Hubby thinks he's spoiled. Of course, Hubby also thinks Peka is trying to kill him, picking his side of the bed to sleep on and him being allergic and all.

I think I already know what he thinks.

Hmmm...

Someone hasn't acclimated to the cold Michigan weather yet.

Good thing there's a window he can look out of at the same time.

Four Sets and Counting...

This is set three for Sparky alone, and unfortunately it's not looking so good:

You can probably tell how bad the midline is off. At one point it actually looked pretty good, but before we left Virginia the orthodontist tried to do a quick fix to get her upper braces off before we left. It didn't work, and this is what we ended up with in Michigan.


We get to go get three brackets removed and repositioned in a little over a week, a new bottom retainer, and then when we're done we have to have the two top middle teeth bonded to get them shaped correctly. They are "conical" and will not look correct until that is done by the dentist. We already love our orthodontist here after only one visit. Their office probably loves us too, because they see dollar signs.

When I mentioned this was Sparky's third set, her first set was at eight years old. She had a permanent tooth on the bottom (just right of middle) that was laying down under three baby teeth. She had to have it exposed, uprighted, and turned. Thankfully they saved the tooth, and during that they had a partial set of braces on the top and bottom. When they removed those and she had retainers to hold some space, she had large knots develop down in her lower gumline. The oral surgeon said it was from erupting teeth, so the orthodontist put the braces back on to hold position and keep things in place since he already saw negative movement happening. This all happened in Illinois, where we also loved our orthodontist. Sparky proceeded to lose all her baby teeth and as permanent teeth started to come in, the braces were removed. She was ready for this third set right when we got to Virginia.

Our fourth set of braces was actually chronologically our third, and Chatty's first and only set. She got them on in Illinois and almost completed treatment while she was there. She had them on for about six months after we arrived in Virginia, and then had them removed and got retainers. The only bad thing right now is that I packed the box that has her retainer in it, and stink if it isn't one that ended up in the storage unit. So we got an impression made for one at the orthodontist for her too. Cha-ching.

Buddy will be set five. We knew he would be ready sometime in the fall, but he still had a couple of baby teeth that needed to come out. He lost one of them last night. Look at the hole amidst the big teeth:


He's been in treatment for a little over two years, also since we arrived in Virginia. He's had a lip bumper on the bottom and a spacer on the top to make room for his big teeth he got from me, in his small mouth he also got from me. And while you're trying not to pee your pants laughing about me not having a big mouth, I mean actual bone structure.

I only have 24 teeth instead of 32. I got my first set of braces at nine years old the summer before I went in the fourth grade. That's back when nobody got them on until they were at least 12. But my teeth were absolutely everywhere in my mouth, coming out my gums and crossing each other in the front. They pulled nine teeth before they put them on, seven baby and two permanent, and then two more permanent after they put them on. I had the railroad track braces on every tooth, and I didn't have to have a single spacer put in my mouth for the orthodontist to get them on. I had my wisdom teeth cut out when I was 16 and 18, two each time, thus the 24 teeth I have now. Since they took my braces off when I was 12, my bones grew after I got them off and my bite was off and my teeth had moved a little, so I had a second partial set as an adult for one year. I actually got them off the day before I got put on bed rest with the girls.

And you know this has set six written all over it:

At least he won't need braces:

The Killer Cat

Remember the story about Peka from the Father's Day post? If not, read here and then come back.

Guess whose side of the bed this is? You get one hint and one guess. The hint is that it's not mine.

And isn't that a stinkin' cute striped pillow? I got it on sale at Kohl's. I don't go there unless I have to have something, because I could buy stuff there all day long, every single day. Well, the girls needed new swimsuits, and we went when they were giving away Kohl's cash. Free money! Who doesn't like that? And we had to have the swimsuits. Not an unnecessary purchase. So I go back about a week later to spend my free money and I get this super cute decorative pillow for my bed on sale half price. I just wish you could see the whole pillow. I should have thought of that when I was taking the picture, but the cat's gone now.

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to Hubby! You're a great Dad! We were waiting to get seated for lunch at one of Hubby's favorite places to eat when I took this picture. We usually only go on Father's Day or his birthday, unless Buddy picks it for his birthday meal.

Pictured in order from left to right are Sassy, Sparky, Caboose, and Buddy. See my first post if you need explanations.

Pictured below is our cat. In the interest of not protecting his privacy I will not be giving him a nickname for the blog and will be calling him by his real name, but please don't tell him. It's Peka, short for Topeka, like in Kansas. This was his name when we adopted him from Petsmart, and at the time Caboose was only two years old and left off the first syllable. We liked it and it stuck.

So the reason for the picture on Father's Day of the cat is that Hubby is allergic to cats. Not bad, just a little. He just can't be right in the cat's face or lay his head where the cat has been. And the funny thing about that is Hubby is convinced that Peka is trying to kill him. And not just recently, but for the past five years! Peka likes to sleep on his side of the bed during the day, but not at the end, nice and snug up by his pillows. But really, Peka just loves him. He would have said Happy Father's Day too if he could have, so instead he curled up with Hubby and Caboose the other night on the bed and watched Monster Jam. He's a man's man, or man's cat, or you know, whatever.

That's Caboose's caboose.

Happy Father's Day from us all!