Pepe Uriburu

Orion and I have a new family member. Her name is Pepe Uriburu, the well-traveled cat. Pepe has been living with us since the middle of August and she is adjusting quite nicely. We are fostering her with hopes of permanently adopting her. Pepe is a small kitty and probably doesn't weight much more than six or seven pounds (A wee lass compared to Spot's hulking 15 or 16 pounds!). She is fluent in Korean, English, and Spanish. She was born in Korea, but has lived in Toronto, Ontario Canada, Washington D.C., and recently she hails from Mexico City. I can only hope to be as well traveled as my foster kitty! Pepe is great fun. She doesn't seem to mind Nola the dog (not that she goes out of her way to visit with Nola), but she doesn't care for Spot at all. But who can blame her; Spotty is more of a horses butt than a kitty. Pepe spent the first few weeks living in my closet and only came out for the necessities. After several weeks I decided it was time to 'help' this special kitty to adjust so when she left the closet to take care of some business I closed it back up tightly. She was amazingly upset with me for several days. But very quickly adopted the bed as her chosen place to nap. She splits her nap times between the foot of the bed (my side) and the head of the bed (opposite side). Every day that passes she becomes more and more affectionate and playful. She greets me when I return home. Last night I tossed and turned all night long... But somehow couldn't seem to buck Pepe off my feet (not that I was trying!). She is quite the agile kitty and very loving when the mood suits her.

The Past Week or So...

The past two weeks have been crazy! I am teaching three courses this summer. And with Orion at his grandparents' house in Arkansas one would think that I have had plenty of time to catch up on whatever it is I need to catch up on, but alas, I feel as if I have run from one fire to another. I feel like a cat chasing my tail. Will I ever catch it?

Roughly two weeks ago we began packing to head to Conway. Orion's birthday was the 25th and we wanted to celebrate his special day with him. The day before we left, Nola became ill and vomited in the area between the library and the dining room. Six or seven times. Seriously. I took pictures; I have proof. We had no time to seriously clean, so we disposed of the chunks and set off to Arkansas. Well, whatever was ailing Nola passed quickly as she did very well to and from Arkansas.

We stayed as long as possible, returning right before the both of us had to return to work. The week before the holiday was crammed with teaching, meetings, grading, and the usual. I had to write a proposal for a conference in Sacramento, CA in January of 2010. (After submitting it, only moments before the deadline, they ended up extending the deadline another week!). I planned and prepared for my last week of classes. Graded some more. Carved out four hours to celebrate the 4th of July. Attended a multiple day Program Revision Retreat (My head still hurts!). Squeezed in some sleep, but not nearly enough. Graded even more papers. Started the process of packing and moving my office. And started (mentally) counting down the hours till the Summer Semester ends for me! Thursday night can't come soon enough.

And somewhere, amidst all of this I made time to rent the Rug Doctor (again!) and scrub all of the carpets and the dog vomit stains. I am very pleased with my clean carpets. I believe Spot is impressed too. (See the picture below.)

Did I mention that it looks like we're going to have to "pull and snake" the toilet in the main bath? Sounds like a fun weekend!

Puppy, Kitten, & Dog

Castor Cat and Satan's Littlest Minion (a.k.a. Nibblet) are asleep under the coffee table. Mom and Michael will recognize the legs of said coffee table as they both previously owned and operated the above pictured coffee table (Coffee table, Lane, circa 1961).


But back to the pests, rather pets. Castor, the kitten, named for alpha star in the constellation Gemini is our last kitten left. She will be six months old at the end of October. Castor's brother, and twin, Pollux (now Dusty) has a home with our associate department chair and Helen (completely grey) is now Sassy and lives with three college gals behind the library. Truffles, a.k.a. Mama Cat, has resumed her outdoor lifestyle and thanks us regularly for her spaying by leaving us giant rodents on our front and back steps.


Satan's Littlest Minion is a wee bit of a beagle and something else; she's not supposed to be much more than 15 pounds fully grown. We troubled over her name for several weeks- trying out names like: Lola, Lolita, Leeta (She seemingly liked this name...), Whorfie (She did not like this one...), Lil'bit, Nibblet, and Satan's Littlest Minion. It seems S.L.M, or the diminutive "Minion" has stuck. I must say, she is the devil. As wee as she is, she is nothing more than a poop factory. She also seems to be able to jump, straight up in the air, about four feet. She thinks nothing of knocking things over or climbing on top of things (Like the dinner table!) to get to what she wants. The only thing that saves her is that she's so darn cute.



Nola, pictured above, has grown into a gorgeous, well-behaved, albeit slightly neurotic, dog. She has an impressive bark. She is a good big sister to Nibblet.

Ten Days

I cannot believe it has been ten days since I have posted! It just might be a record! I apologize; it is simply an indicator of how busy the past few weeks have been. My absence from the blogosphere, the pile of laundry, the unmade bed, the sticky kitchen floor, and the unpaid bills all point to the same, wicked truth. School has resumed!

I have been spending roughly 14 hours every day on campus. This has been my attempt to get caught up so that I can devote more time to research. You may ask how I could be so far behind during the first week of school. I didn't even have papers to grade until Thursday! After all I went to work a week early to get things ready. Alas, I had a student that consumed a particularly great deal of my time (over thirty hours in a week an a half). This student was not prepared to enter their internship and waited until the last minute to begin making corrections to the document that would enable them to participate in the internship. Said student had nearly three months to make corrections. And while the quote "Failure to plan on your part does not constitute and emergency on mine," continually played in my head over the course of dealing with said student, I was still the one who ended up being the most affected. Who pays for a students inability to follow directions, to plan, to organize, or to write coherently? Not the student. The teacher.


That aside, a great deal has happened in the last few days.

• School started for all three of us! Orion is navigating the often choppy waters of middle school. John is taking two courses (Anthropology & Ecology) in the mornings. And I am attempting Meteorology. I say attempting because I am conducting research with the professor of the course (Sally) and hanging out. I fear that I may not have the time to dedicate to studying.
• John has returned to the late night shift of 3:15 to 12:15.
• I am teaching another full load this semester, however I have taught all of these classes before so at least I have a vague idea of what I am doing this time around!
• An old friend died last week.
• Helen, the grey kitten, was adopted by three young ladies, students at UCM.
• I've been pretty sick and I have a mild case of pink eye! Allergy related? Perhaps.
  

And this is only a sampling of what has been happening! I have decided to use my blog as an incentive or reward! When I complete a certain amount of tasks, I will allow myself to post to the blog. Unfortunately, I doubt that there will be much to report. All work and no play makes Kat a very dull blogger!

Let's hope not!

Time Stands Still...

Time passes more slowly, almost seeming to stand still, when one is surrounded dark skies, bright stars, and the near deafening racket of frogs, crickets, and other creepy crawlies.

I was up late last night; in fact, I was up much later than I had expected. I was working on presentation I will give today in the Earth Science and Biology Department at UCM. Our topic is Successful Teaching (aka Classroom Management) and my presentation is for graduate teaching assistants.

I finished getting my thoughts, ideas, and activities organized at roughly 1:00 a.m. this morning. Nola and I stepped outside for a quick walk through our darkened back yard. In a matter of few minutes we saw two very bright meteors zipping across the sky. I wasn't sure but I thought that I several more, but faint in the hazy sky. Joy!

Nola and I decided that since we were already up, we would go a head and wait another hour for the moon to set. And at 2:00 a.m. I turned off all the lights in the house and we stumbled into the back yard.

It was a near perfect 65 degrees last night and the skies had cleared up considerably. I was unable to see the eastern horizon (for my house and the large trees in my back yard) but I had a good view of the rest of the sky. It was dark, but the faint haze seemed to reflect some of the 'Burg's light back to us.

Nola and I sat. And we sat some more. Quietly waiting for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Allowing our eyes to relax. Opening our eyes to the night sky.

Quietly yet brightly, several meteors flashed across the dark sky. Most of them headed southwest. Several more, dim and stealthily meteors marked their paths through the stars. Even more appeared as faint tracers, perhaps they were nothing more than some shadow of a youthful indiscretion.

Still we sat. My back was beginning to complain from sitting too much during the day and from now being scrunched down in an unforgiving, metal patio chair. The grass was wet on our feet. The mosquitoes were oddly underrepresented. Or perhaps it was all that garlic I have been consuming?

After each flash of light I would wait. My hand on Nola's back. Just one more. I'll go inside after one more. But another would reveal itself, and then another. I stifled a yawn and considered pulling an "all-nighter." I reminded myself that I had work in only a few hours.

Slowly I got up. Stretching my back. Thinking, next time I'll put a tarp out and lay on the sleeping bag. Nola and I made our way back to the house. Carefully I shined the flashlight at the kitchen clock. It was only 2:30. I had seen over 30 meteors in about 30 minutes! And I wasn't counting the 'tracers' that I was uncertain about. How many could I have seen if I had driven 10 minutes to the south of town? Would the camera have cooperated with the hazy night? How lucky I am that it cleared up and that I was able to catch a few 'shooting stars'?

I was so excited and enthralled that I forgot to make a wish. If it's not too late for that wish: I wish for great viewing of the Leonids in November.

"Mix Bread Puppy's"

Yesterday I was about a block from home and trying to make a left on to Hwy. 13 South. It was about 4:30 in the afternoon and I knew that it would take all the patience I had to wait for a break in traffic. I sat for a bit, with the windows rolled down, and watched the traffic buzz by. That was when I saw it. A sign stapled to the telephone pole between the Casey's Gas Station and the house with the 30 lawn mowers in the front yard (and other assorted treasures!). The sign read "Mix Bread Puppy's." It took me a minute. Really, it did. I cocked my head to one side and thought to myself, 'What am I missing?' And then it hit me. Bread sounds like bred, not breed. And then it hit me again, 'Just what belonged to this puppy or were there more than one?' I finally made a left and found my way home. I called my friend Shannon to see if she wanted a "Bread Mix" puppy. I am fairly certain that not everyone can brag about owning a "Bread Mix" puppy. However, when I stopped by today (to take a picture of the sign) and to discover what kind of bread these puppy's [sic] were (I really like a good rye, but I also find a whole grain to be satisfying!) the sign and puppy's [sic] were gone. Sorry Shannon, no "Bread Mix" puppy for you! But I'll keep looking!

Clean Sheets

Happiness is sliding into a bed made with crisp, clean sheets. Growing up in my mother's house we changed our sheets weekly! However, in my house I push the sheet issue... Changing them every two to three weeks (Yes, I can hear my mother gasp all the way from Florida!). I rationalize by reminding myself that I sleep alone, that I shower before bedtime (My friend Shannon agrees that if you go to bed clean, your bed sheets stay cleaner longer.), and that I am saving water by not washing three sets of sheets every week (I am earth conscious!).

This weekend was John's turn for clean sheets. Essentially we all got clean sheets when we moved in, but several of his blankets and such missed the big cleaning- I made that my Friday and Saturday goal! Little did I know that the pets, both Nola and Alison, would conspire against me... Nola, muddy from the yard, slept in a nice little circle on Orion's white, flannel sheets! (Of course Orion is partly to blame as he didn't wipe her feet clean or make his bed...) and Alison decided to vomit (again) all over my bed. I think she was trying to get off the bed, but she moves so slowly these days, she only succeeded in spreading it out aways. Ewww! So this weekend everyone ended up with clean sheets and clean blankets and comforters.

If clean sheets are such a pleasure and such a joy to me, perhaps I need to change mine more often. I could make up for it by not changing the boys' sheets for three or four weeks (Another gasp from Florida!).

And I am left wondering. How often do you change your sheets? Please vote in the poll to your right and/or leave a comment below! I am eager to hear.

Nola

Meet Nola Jean Winters Leslie. She and Orion share a birthday! She turned one year old this past June. Nola has been part of our family since November, 2006.

Nola was born to a Doberman mommy dog (Her mommy had papers!). We're not sure who her daddy was, but based on Nola's siblings it is believed that Nola's daddy was a Labrador. Two days after she was born, the folks taking care of her mommy found that her mommy had died, leaving behind six hungry pups. They promptly took them to Doctor Mia. Doctor Mia adopted four while the other folks kept two. Mia fed those babies every two hours, day or night, till they were big enough to eat puppy food. Mia found homes for two of the four. She had a boy and girl left. She named them Nate and Nola.

In November we decided that Orion might benefit from having a dog. And we began looking. I remember Doctor Mia still had a few puppies left and that they would be about five months old. Tuesday before Thanksgiving, November 21, 2006, Nola came to live with us.

It was hard at first. She came to us very well trained (Thank you Mia!), but we weren't used to having a puppy. It took us some time to get to know and love each other. Now Miss Nola sleeps with me! She's a 'bedful' at over 50 pounds!

Nola has several nicknames-

Maenola (in honor of John's best friend from High School)

Enola Gay (when she's really gassy)

Granola Butt

Divot Butt (she has these swirls below her butt right where her dark fur turns light)

Puppins (like kitten, only not!)

Nola takes good care of us. She keeps us good company. She and Spot play together. And she has a lovely, loud bark that can be very intimidating. We love Nola!

Spot

Moving to Fayetteville was traumatic. We found ourselves living in a 600 square foot, two bedroom, concrete apartment on campus. We were not allowed to have pets! After two years years on campus we found a quieter, much larger place to stay. A townhouse on the back side of Sequoyah Mountain. We moved in March 1st. That autumn, a special guest found us.

I used to leave the kitchen door open when Orion was out playing. It was easier than listening to him slam the door dozens of times. It also afforded me better viewing of the wee one. One afternoon, while dinner was simmering on the stove, a black and white cat waltzed right in and sat down next to me on the couch. He hung out while I watched a rerun of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and took off shortly after dinner. This became a habit for the cat. But as the days shortened and the nights got chillier, the visitor began spending the night. He refused using the cat box, instead he cried at the door to be let out in the mornings. He would be waiting for us on the porch in the afternoon upon our return from school. Orion went through several names, Wide-Eyed Cat and Pom-Pom were two that he barely escaped. It was John who named Spot for the tiny white spot on his mostly black back.

Spot was an impressive hunter as well. He would bring us two to three bodies a day! We even belled the cat, but it didn't slow him down. I suppose the biggest gross out was when visitors would step outside on the porch to have a cigarette and find their bare foot in something still warm and squishy.

This went on for about a year. Until one day I found him crossing Highway 16! The very road I had seen two kitty deaths earlier that week! That evening, when he came home, he stayed home. He protested a great deal; then he promptly put on about five pounds.

Spot has got to be one of the most laid back cats on the planet. Orion and I can do just about anything to this cat and he simply rolls over, shows us his pink belly, and begs for more love! We adore our Naughty Spotty and were quite honored that he not only found us, but that he chose us for his family.

Alison

Meet Alison. I like to call her "My-Bob's Cat." Alison spent the first 18 years of her life living in Bob and Loree's garage. She was a huntress of great renown. Every morning, around 5:00 AM she and My-Bob would walk out to fetch the newspaper. She would get a handful of kibble and some water. My-Bob would get a "trophy", usually a bird or baby rabbit, later in the day. It is rumored that she would even follow My-Bob through the garden.

Just over a year ago, Alison came to live with us in Fayetteville. She protested the move to Fayetteville and rewarded us by staying in John's (huge) closet in the basement. She protested even louder (with a giant POOP before we even pulled out of Fayetteville) our move to the 'Burg. Despite her protestations, she is doing very well in her new home. She has put on some weight. Her fur is much thicker and softer. She rules the upstairs, sleeping on the "big bed" like the queen that she is. She's learning the ways of an indoor cat: sleep, eat, sleep, eat, more sleep, petting, sleep, eat, and even more sleep.

Alison turned 19 this April. Happy Belated Birthday Alison. We are glad you're part of our family.