Cat Update

For those of you who have gnawed your nails to the quick with anxiety over our infertile cats....relax. There is a plan in action.
Our girls went into heat on Sunday (ahem, our girl cats).
I called a friend and asked her to help me in the kitties hour of need.
She asked if I wanted her to bring her tom cat or alcohol. Both?
(She actually only had cooking wine on hand and the vintage was questionable)
The first attempt to bring her tom cat failed. He fled; terrified. Avonlea remarked that he would have been glad to come if they would have told him that two girls were awaiting him.
Okay.
The second attempt was successful and they brought him over on Wednesday morning.
I'm not sure if it's because Mr. Tom is the cat of a home school family, but he appears to have socialization issues.
He wants nothing to do with my voluptuous Persian females.
We put kitty treats around the girls, appropriately labeled "temptations." Nada.
Perhaps he feels inferior because he's not a Persian?
We've tried to talk him through this misconception. He's a gorgeous cat and will be a worthy father. No Go.
So we've kinda concluded that maybe it's the 6 pairs of eyes peering at him that's intimidating. So we're giving them their privacy. And praying.
If this doesn't work....
....I won't even let my mind go there.
I'll just be thankful for a friend who still loves me even though I ask to borrow her cat.
I'll focus on the anticipation of kittens......
Cheers!

Cats!

To make a long story short....we have more cats than we know what to do with.
We started out with Ivanhoe, a Ragdoll breed. We loved having a big fluffy cat around so....Dave and I decided to breed Persian cats. Avonlea and Grant would be responsible for the care of the cats/kittens, and they would get the sale money to put toward college.
We bought a calico Persian (Lancelot) to be the male stud.
Lancelot, unfortunately had a defective jaw which was pronounced hereditary. He was not a good stud. We had him fixed and kept our eyes open.
Six months later we found Lewis, a Turkish Van Persian. Dave fell in love with him and we brought home a new stud.

Now all we needed was a woman. We found a cattery on Craigslist and went for a peek. We impulsively came home with two females, Guinevere and Jane. Let the kittens begin!

Lewis was kept in a cage (it was roomy) in the basement and whenever the girls would go into heat, we'd throw them in. After a year we have yet to have kittens and Lewis has been labeled, "infertile."

We now have five cats and our children have no college plans.

The three males have taken up residency outdoors.

They look lovely out in the snow this morning. Picturesque.

Life doesn't always work out just the way we planned. As I have previously stated, "life is a broken banana." In this case...life is infertile cats...really fluffy infertile cats.

But those fluffy infertile cats happen to be my children's best friends.

We sift through the frustration and find the joy.

After all........there's nothing like a purring cat in the night......

(Unless, of course, it was a pregnant purring cat....)

Silent and....Sweet?

I've been trying not to complain lately, but the truth is....I'm so much more interesting when I vent. I'm slowly learning to hold my tongue and it's very tame......to say the least. Tonight for example....I was at worship team practice and a new guy asked me a question. An obvious question I felt, he asked, "Do you like this sort of thing?" Being inclined towards transparency, I looked at him not altogether kindly. (Why would I be there singing for hours on a Thursday night if I didn't like it????) Anyway, he replied (to my look), "Well I don't really know you at all. We've never had a conversation." I so so so wanted to say, "Oh well I can just tell you that I'm really nice. And cute. And I'm funny. And I like to sing which is why I'm at church for hours on a Thursday night." BUT I DIDN'T. I said nothing...several times over.

When Avonlea informed me on Monday that she forgot how to multiply and divide over Christmas break, and as a finishing stroke told me it was my fault because I gave them three weeks off instead of two (!!!!!!!!!!!!) I thought of several things I could utter. BUT I DIDN'T. I said nothing...several times over.

When my mother told me my new coat looked too small............

I could go on.

And I will. There are two situations frustrating me right now.

Situation One: I am trying not to drink tea because the caffeine is bothering me. I don't like the taste of decaffeinated tea and I'm not fond of herbals. I miss floating through my house with my tea cup in my hand. I miss the sweet tasting warmth of tea. I miss the unmistakable air of a tea party that pervades and enlivens my life. I feel ugly without a tea cup. Is this too much information?

Situation Two: We have five Persian cats. Three of them have been mating for a YEAR and we have yet to have kittens. The vet suggested a gene specialist in Portland take a look at them. Do people really do that? All this mating with no reward! The yowls and stances that jar me.....for nothing (in my opinion, I'm sure Lewis would argue this). Every time one of these furry felines walk by I cringe, hope deferred personified.

All this without a husband here to soothe and comfort! Dave is working long hard hours and I miss him. And I suppose that is why I'm sitting here talking to a computer.
This probably isn't healthy.
I vented and now I will go back.......to saying nothing.........several times over.

If we had only known.........

I am in bed at 7:46 pm for two reasons. The first being our house is freezing the second being I wrenched my back.

The floor guy looked at me today with eyes full of compassion and fear and informed me that we won't be able to be in our house for Christmas. If we had only known before we started redecorating TWO MONTHS ago that everything possible that could go wrong, would, we wouldn't have started. I am cold because we've had the heat off and all the windows open for three days because they're sanding the lead paint off the floor. Good thing I grew up in Alaska.

If we had known that overnight our house would become X-rated we would not have attempted to breed cats. I stir soup while cats mate at my feet. Cats mate under the school table while we chant presidents. Avonlea asks "Is this what you don't let me watch on TV?" My back is wrenched because I was moving a heavy chair to clean up cat spray and I twisted it. I try to think kittens.

Dave looks at me, as I moan, and asks the age old question, "What did you expect?"

I expected the house to be done cheerfully and without glitch in four weeks and I expected the cats to be discreet and rendezvous in the back of a dark closet, ONCE.

How many things in life would we never have attempted if we only knew how far from our ideals they would end up. Marriage? Children? So it's grace that keeps us optimistic. Grace that keeps the wounds clean. Grace that allows us the desire to try again. Grace that gives me a warm bed and lots of creative explanations of what the cats are doing. Just grace. Grace that allows and grace that sustains. Grace that lifts and fills and heals when life doesn't turn out the way we expected.

So we will enjoy the hospitality of our friends and we will have a Christmas we will certainly never forget. We will try to remember that Jesus did know the outcome of His coming before He came and HE CAME ANYWAY. And I'm pretty sure that in about two months I'll be talking about redecorating Rose's room and breeding the dog. Because grace is alive and active in my life.