Happy Mardi Gras, Gerbil Nation!
Good morning, dv8 (and Harper!), and Sven!
Cats -- sneaking out every night -- you just know that trouble is going to find them.
I’m the administrator at a meeting shortly with one of my least favorite parents. I’m not looking forward to it. She called the meeting because she apparently doesn’t like the curriculum that she chose for her daughter, along with her daughter’s workload.
Our cat has transitioned again. This time to feral mode. He’s gone more than he’s here, not interested anymore in sleeping on Mrs Sven’s lap or any human interaction, and mostly uses us as a safe place to sleep and get food.
He came home this morning about 5:00, got fed, and went upstairs to sleep. He’ll crash for 8 hours straight or more, then take off. I’ll hear him come in and out throughout the night a couple of times sometimes, but he’ll also be gone for days at a time.
For about a year, he was real cozy with Mrs Sven. Followed her everywhere and she was happy with finally “having” a cat. Don’t know if he’ll ever get back to that.
It’s not so much buyer’s remorse as a refusal to accept responsibility. There are a boatload of people living in the home and there is never a time when it is quiet and the student can focus on her schoolwork. The student has significant attention issues, so instead of insisting that the other people in the home allow the student to have some quiet time to work, the parent wants the school to change the curriculum and work expectations.
Sorry to hear that Jack has gone back to his wild side. I really do wonder what goes on in his life to make him the way he is.
The odd thing with him is that i have no idea what he’s doing. Over the years, we’ve taken in maybe a dozen strays and feral cats. The toms, when they returned back here after being gone for several days, all showed what they’d been up to -- they smelled awful, fur was a mess, cuts, injuries, broken teeth, etc. Tatum, knock wood and say a prayer, just comes back, He’s had very minor injuries at times, but that’s it. Also back in the day, you’d hear the cats yowling at each and then growls and screeching from up to half a mile away. The past several years, nothing like that at all.
Maybe he’s got a second home down the street.
Sadly, I’ve stopped worrying about him. I know how this ends and it’s not a question of if, but when.
Tomorrow we get our fence repaired -- the one that the guy across the street ran through. He’s given us $150, but we’ll end up paying the bulk of it. Mrs Sven pointed out that we went through rough times financially in our younger years, that we can afford it, and maybe cut the guy a break as his life situation isn’t that easy. He says he’ll pay us, just can’t do it right now. I told him pay us what he can as he can, and if he comes up with half of it we’ll call it done -- not that I told him that.
Lent starts tomorrow -- it made me think back to 1989 or so and our departmental secretary who was really good, but who would give up her meds for Lent with not so good results. Back in the olden days, I would handwrite memos, give them to her, and she’d type them up and distribute. One day what she handed back to me was a full page memo reduced in size from the copier to something that was about 2 inches by 3 inches in size. I showed it to my boss, who went and grabbed the other Director in our department and showed it to him. He literally slapped his forehead and said “F*ck. It’s Lent again, isn’t it?”
The year before during Lent, she’d gone into my boss’s office, slammed the door, and started pulling out all the drawers in the desk and opening up all the doors in the office furniture looking for regulators. The regulators were apparently very tiny people that made our secretary’s life miserable. Very tiny, and apparently they had either forced her to reduce the size of my memo or had done it themselves unbeknownst to her.
She was gone for about a week, got back on her meds, and everything was fine again.
My cat never hung around with the wrong crowd, at least, to my knowledge, he didn’t.
Good morning, Dv8. Happy Fat Tuesday, GN.
Happy Mardi Gras, Gerbil Nation!
Good morning, dv8 (and Harper!), and Sven!
Cats -- sneaking out every night -- you just know that trouble is going to find them.
I’m the administrator at a meeting shortly with one of my least favorite parents. I’m not looking forward to it. She called the meeting because she apparently doesn’t like the curriculum that she chose for her daughter, along with her daughter’s workload.
Buyer’s remorse, eh?
Our cat has transitioned again. This time to feral mode. He’s gone more than he’s here, not interested anymore in sleeping on Mrs Sven’s lap or any human interaction, and mostly uses us as a safe place to sleep and get food.
He came home this morning about 5:00, got fed, and went upstairs to sleep. He’ll crash for 8 hours straight or more, then take off. I’ll hear him come in and out throughout the night a couple of times sometimes, but he’ll also be gone for days at a time.
For about a year, he was real cozy with Mrs Sven. Followed her everywhere and she was happy with finally “having” a cat. Don’t know if he’ll ever get back to that.
It’s not so much buyer’s remorse as a refusal to accept responsibility. There are a boatload of people living in the home and there is never a time when it is quiet and the student can focus on her schoolwork. The student has significant attention issues, so instead of insisting that the other people in the home allow the student to have some quiet time to work, the parent wants the school to change the curriculum and work expectations.
Sorry to hear that Jack has gone back to his wild side. I really do wonder what goes on in his life to make him the way he is.
The odd thing with him is that i have no idea what he’s doing. Over the years, we’ve taken in maybe a dozen strays and feral cats. The toms, when they returned back here after being gone for several days, all showed what they’d been up to -- they smelled awful, fur was a mess, cuts, injuries, broken teeth, etc. Tatum, knock wood and say a prayer, just comes back, He’s had very minor injuries at times, but that’s it. Also back in the day, you’d hear the cats yowling at each and then growls and screeching from up to half a mile away. The past several years, nothing like that at all.
Maybe he’s got a second home down the street.
Sadly, I’ve stopped worrying about him. I know how this ends and it’s not a question of if, but when.
Tomorrow we get our fence repaired -- the one that the guy across the street ran through. He’s given us $150, but we’ll end up paying the bulk of it. Mrs Sven pointed out that we went through rough times financially in our younger years, that we can afford it, and maybe cut the guy a break as his life situation isn’t that easy. He says he’ll pay us, just can’t do it right now. I told him pay us what he can as he can, and if he comes up with half of it we’ll call it done -- not that I told him that.
You’re a Good Gerbil, Sven.
Lent starts tomorrow -- it made me think back to 1989 or so and our departmental secretary who was really good, but who would give up her meds for Lent with not so good results. Back in the olden days, I would handwrite memos, give them to her, and she’d type them up and distribute. One day what she handed back to me was a full page memo reduced in size from the copier to something that was about 2 inches by 3 inches in size. I showed it to my boss, who went and grabbed the other Director in our department and showed it to him. He literally slapped his forehead and said “F*ck. It’s Lent again, isn’t it?”
The year before during Lent, she’d gone into my boss’s office, slammed the door, and started pulling out all the drawers in the desk and opening up all the doors in the office furniture looking for regulators. The regulators were apparently very tiny people that made our secretary’s life miserable. Very tiny, and apparently they had either forced her to reduce the size of my memo or had done it themselves unbeknownst to her.
She was gone for about a week, got back on her meds, and everything was fine again.