Sunday afternoon, I brought Kensi upstairs to finally meet her big sister. I wasn’t sure how far the initial introductions would go, leaving it up to Skye and Kensi. I started with Kensi in a pet carrier. Skye sniffed her. And hissed. And growled. But retreated to observe from a safe distance. Well, I decided, they weren’t going to get to know each other with Skye choosing to simply avoid the crate. So I opened the door and let Kensi step into a strange new world. Home. Skye retreated to the back of the couch to watch. Kensi discovered toys. Lots of toys. She started with a bit of hesitation, batting at a piece of bunny fur. But before long, like a kid at Christmas, she dove in, jumping from one toy to another. All these things I’ve bought for Skye and that Skye has ignored, Kensi finds delightful. Skye still doesn’t think Kensi is delightful, though. Kensi approaches. Skye hisses. Kensi shrugs and goes back to her play. When she’s not playing, she watches TV. She hasn’t decided on a f

Last weekend I attended the Pennsylvania State Battle of the Barrel Tournament. This was my second one, and thanks to Burgettstown Fire Chief Jerry McClain, I now know what I'm watching. And I'm hooked. As for this photo, I like the repeated angles of the tent, the building roof, and the arc of the water striking the barrel.

We’ve tackled a few more hurdles. Kensi breezed through her first veterinary visit. No bad kitty diseases. Yeah, she has worms and fleas, but I’d have put money on that. Treatment has begun for both. She was a perfect little angel for Dr. Barnes. Received her first distemper shot and had blood drawn without making a peep. And she traveled well, too. This is important, as kitties in this household go camping. The other hurdle we overcame yesterday was Hubby’s resistance. He can’t argue with what a nice kitty Kensi is. Nor can he argue with his stubborn-as-mule, hard-headed wife. So, with a sigh of resignation, his arguing is over. The next big hurdle is Skye. No amount of reasoning on my part will have one bit of influence on her. While Kensi passed the contagious disease test with flying colors, the flea issue will keep her apart from her new big sister for a while. Skye is horribly allergic to the little bloodsuckers, so the little one is confined to the basement until I’m sure she’s

Meet Kensi. I wrote about her last Wednesday on Working Stiffs . Back then, she didn’t have a name. Nor did she have a home. Now she has both. The name I’ve settled on is Kensi after the character on NCIS Los Angeles . I just like the name. It’s different (There will probably be 4,000 girls named Kensi starting school five or six years from now and my unique name will be as common as dirt.) As for her home… Yeah, everyone guessed it. She’s not going anywhere. There are details to be worked out. Hubby’s still resisting the idea of another cat in the house. So I’ve moved her into the basement. My excuse is that leaving her food out on the porch at night draws raccoons and I refuse to feed good cat food to the wildlife. Ulterior motive? Litter box training. A must before any kitty, cute or not, can move upstairs. It took her a couple of missteps, but now she’s figured out how it works. My other ulterior motive is quarantine. Until she’s had her shots and been tested for kitty diseases, I

Need I say more?

We seem to have a new kitten. To see pictures, read about her, and possibly help name the new baby, come on over to Working Stiffs today.

I’m sorry to say I didn’t even last a week at the Write First Challenge. This just isn’t the time for me to not check email early. As I mentioned before, I’m taking a rather intense online course on querying given by C.J. Lyons. I’ve learned so much already that my head is spinning. The sheer number of messages produced by the participants has increased the mail in my inbox by about a thousand percent. When I let it get ahead of me, it takes hours to catch up. Yeah, I know. Excuses, excuses. The fact is I learned I’m not an early morning writer. I’ve trained my muse to be at the office by 9AM. Asking him to arrive earlier just doesn’t work. Or maybe it’s the fact the caffeine doesn’t kick in until then. Whatever. I’m going to come up with a different set of writing guidelines that work for me. But probably not this week. This week I’ll be writing, but my nonfiction efforts will be taking priority. Hey, writing and getting paid for it is a GOOD thing. I’ll be covering two different even

Yes, I’m still here. I’ve been fighting off mental meltdown for the last couple of weeks. Okay, months. This weekend, we escaped to our camp in Confluence for a few days. With Hubby still unemployed the concept of weekend is a little vague. Sometimes it’s Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes it’s Friday through Monday. You see, I take my laptop with me, so ONE of us is still working. I’m not complaining. Anything but. Because while I may be working, it’s only on one of my “jobs.” The one that also qualifies as my passion: writing. Lately it’s come to my attention that my life has been out of balance (previously mentioned mental meltdown). While I enjoy teaching yoga, selling Avon, being an area rep for Pennwriters and president of our local Sisters in Crime chapter, the sum total of all my jobs and activities tend to steamroll over my attempts to write. This must change. Otherwise that mental meltdown thing may just come to pass. While I’ve been contemplating how to make sure I stay on trac

Come on over to Working Stiffs where I'm blogging today and showing my age while ranting over modern technology.