Dad's Back

Well, it's been a quiet week here.  Dad went off to his annual work "Leadership" conference (in quotes because he always comes back at least a few pounds heavier than when he left, so I think we all know at least some of what goes on there).  Mom and I got to share some girl time without the big oaf in our hair (just kidding, dad). 
     All that matters to me, really, is that I get to do lots of this. 

Like, every day.  Sure, I was happy to see dad back home, but I made the most of mom's lap while he was gone.  I just have to spread myself around sometimes.
     This pretty much sums up how our Saturday was here.  A nice warm lap, comfy clothes, chillin' in the double lounger with a cold beer- what more could one ask for (except some real food like I'm sure dad got at conference and not this k/d stuff I'm forced to eat).  


 

From Bag Lady to Blind Lady

Yeah, it's been a while again.  Dad's having a tough time at work, going in way too early and being exhausted some days (translated: he's getting old).  He/we can't seem to find the time for this.
     Anyway, the aching old one removed my perch some time ago before we got these deep chill days because the windows here suck, to be blunt.  He put plastic over the windows, and my perch was in the way of making a good, tight seal, so down it came.

One Lump...

     I'm not too happy about it, and often can be found sitting on the floor beneath the window staring up at where the perch usually is.  
     Not long before he did this cruel thing to me I was having no part of their wait-until-we-put-the-blinds-up directive, and decided I wanted to get up on the perch whether the blinds were up or not.  

...or Two? 

 
     Well, for the time being I guess I'll have to get used to not having my perch, and I seem to be able to find any available sun puddle there may be (once they open the damn blinds, that is).  I'm hopeful that this chilly weather we've been having is done (mom and dad moved down here to "get away from this sh*t", I've grown tired of hearing them say) for good.  I just want my damn perch back.  Is that too much to ask?

Mr. Not as Young as He Used to Be has no caption for this one

Bag Lady

So, as mentioned in previous posts Cleo has this odd need to sit on things she finds on the floor.  Bags, papers, tissue- doesn't matter.  There's lots of room here for her, and plenty of warm, plush carpet, but she's always drawn to something laying on the floor.  Mom likes to work on the floor, whether filing, crafts, bookkeeping- no matter.  Cleo likes to "help".  Plain and simple.  And by helping I mean placing her butt on whatever mom's working on at any given moment.