One last late-night Doorly bit, and I’m off to bed. It’s laaaaazy time. ‘Night, peeps!
Make way for Mama Mallard and her intrepid fleet o’ bebeh boids.
It’s been the sort of day that demands ducks. Yes, yes, I know it’s a teensy photo, but wait till you click on it. And if the long view still isn’t enough, I’ve got even got VIDEO for ya. Lookit ‘em go! This is what it’s all about, peeps. (Er… quacks?)
OK let’s see… we’ve got the Pfeffernusse all done, the Snickerdoodles are in the Tupperware, the Spritz batch is racked & cooling for another 30 minutes, the Springerles were packed yesterday… um hon, where’s the Klipspringers?
…hehe! Trick question. Love ya.
Just a reminder, peeps… this is it, right here, the feline washcloth, the kitty loofah, the interspecies sandpaper scrub-brush that we’ve been taking about with this question.
Click on the photo for the C.O.X.C.U. just to make things abundantly clear.
NOTE — this is a long-winded Theo post. You have now been warned.
Where should you take your Schmoopie for your 3rd anniversary? Where else but a cat house?
We arrived a little late, but well before sundown, and were promptly taken to dinner. It was well presented, generously portioned, and they certainly kept the wines (plural!) coming. The setting on the sun porch was idyllic; it was completely private, with crystal and candles and flowers and A/C and a very nice view of traditional river-town Americana. (Wabasha is "the oldest city in MN" so we’re talking about the real thing here.) Our hostess struggled valiantly with an uncooperative CD player to provide background music, which was actually kind of funny; and really, Jaye & I were in a quibble-proof mood, which the wine maaay have enhanced. All in all, it was a lovely dinner.
Our room was a cozy B&B-style haven. We had a very peaceful sitting area, with large windows and all-enveloping wing chairs, where we could sink in and soak up Main Street and Mighty Mississip’. For a while, in fact, there were a couple of twentysomethings a block down with a motorcycle. We couldn’t help spying a little. They smooched, they fiddled with their saddlebags, they snogged; they wandered around making expansive arm gestures ("Just LOOK at all of this!"), wandered back, played a little tonsil hockey, groped, and sucked face. Finally they hopped on the bike and rode off parallel to the sunset. Kids.
(You’re hearing about these two junior schmoopers ’cause some things Daddy keeps to hisself. You’ll make do.)
Our suite was not one of the "cat-approved" rooms, sadly. To their credit, Anderson House doesn’t declaw their kitters, and claws aren’t compatible with antique furniture and wallpaper. To help balance out this lack of feline companionship, the sitting room came equipped with a large whirlpool tub in the back corner, which came equipped with a little squirty duck, who in turn came equipped with a snorkel. The duckie we named Pervert. Possibly Jaye was going to call him Herbert, and I misheard, but then it just seemed to fit.
We checked to make sure the tub worked. It did. It worked quite well. Naughty, naughty duckie.
OK OK OK… yes, before we left, we did get to meet the cats. We almost left the roses behind, but we weren’t about to leave without saying hi to the furbs. After all, protocols must be observed, or the terrorists win. And I’m pleased to report that all five of Anderson House’s felines are fine, fit & friendly. They’d have to be, as Jaye pointed out, but it impressed me to meet 5 personable cats sharing cubby quarters in harmony.
Next to him is Arnold, caught in a yawn, and a sink. This pic just cries for captions, doesn’t it? Hmm…
What you don’t see here (near right) is that Ginger is a SHOULDER KITTY. How cool is that? "No, that’s OK, really, you don’t need to put me down. I’m all kinds o’ good. Purr. Purr." She didn’t even dig her claws in for purchase, like some OTHER cats [ahem]. And while Aloysius (al-oh-ISH-us, their grey-and-white "rookie" cat) was camera-shy, Goblin wasn’t. Fuh-LOOF.
Interesting note: I don’t know if it was the gnome magics, the river air, the swirly tub, the innate healing powers of felis domesticus… or just drinking a couple of glasses of water with dessert… but by rights we should’ve had hammer-head hangovers the next morning. And? Not a twinge. We coulda bounced right back into our offices and been sunny & brilliant, if needed. That’s worth a Yay — or two, since it wasn’t needed.
FYI, Anderson House is currently celebrating their 150th anniversary, which trumped ours by a factor of 50. In honor of their one-five-oh (and our three-point-oh), we had a chance to draw the "free room" key-fob out of a jar (missed it, alas) and drop our name into a lottery to win an ornately-embroidered kimono. In return, I hipped them to a blog that I thought they might enjoy. (Hi folks! Thanks again!)
Now, I did splurge a bit, with the suite and the "romantic package." It was nice to be taken care of, though. Bottom line, it was a most satisfactory stay, and we left happy and revived. And if you’re feeling jealous at all, remember they’ve got 5 admirable cats, 36 perfectly good rooms & presumably 150 more years. The numbers are in your favor.
(Posting from work? Moi??)
Well met and well come to the court of Blue Couch, capital and seat of power for all of Living Room. The protocols are as they have always been, fair pilgrim: There will be no sipping of precarious liquids. There will be no hogging of blankets. There will be no licking of hineys. And above all, this court will brook no blasphemy. We need hardly mention that transgressions will be swiftly dealt with. We’ve got eyebeams and by golly we’ll use them if we have to.
Offerings of the chewy fish and crunchy peanut variety will, of course, be graciously accepted.
You may now rise.
(NOTE — that’s Willow "the Pillow" Wabbit and Aslan P. Lion, aka "Mr. Bounce" up there. We wuvs dem.)
So, here’s a sad truth: While I am a geek, what I know about building web pages amounts to diddly x squat / bupkis (***ERROR: Division By Zero). I’m hoping y’all will bear with me while I monkey around with TypePad’s “Compose a New Post” interface, here. Anyhoo.
With the assistance of Meg and CuteOverload reader Anna Grace, I’ve compiled a rough table of the more common Cute-Isms that have cropped up in the posts & comments round these here parts. I also threw in some less-common entries because, what the heck, sometimes you just gotta take liberties. And it was a slow day at the office, and I was having fun.
Again: I’m not a WWWizard. However, plenty of other folks here are, so the formatting just might improve quite a bit in the coming days. But for now, without further ado, here they are, the fabulous entries of the shiny new CuteOverload Glossary! Yay!!! [waves arms around a la Kermit the Frog as the curtain opens]
(I hope you’ve got a little reading time on your hands)
Please note that there should be a permanent link to the Glossary appearing soon in the left-hand margin, under “MORE! MORE! MORE!“