The writers (bloggers) block

Writer's corner.....30 seconds after I stood up.

This has been a busy Christmas season for the little French lady and me. She takes a two week vacation during this time of year. We do things that will entertain both of us during the holidays.

I have been doing a little bit of geocaching in the previous months. At first, I didn't think she was interested. I was wrong. She had been sneaking a peak at my preparations for my adventure. One day she decided to follow.

Hmmm! I will bring her into the woods, walk her through mud, make her slither on the ground like a slug, I will make sure it is hell for her.

Well....That's not exactly what happened. We arrived near the geocache location and entered "the jungle" I had chosen. I had my little GPS in hand.

My wife said "Where are we going? How far is it? Let me see that GPS." That was the last time I touched the GPS that day.

I was looking under termite infested tree trunks, climbing trees, moving rocks that weigh more than I do, kneeling in drainage ditches, poking at animal scatology, rolling in ant hills and walking through a leaking cesspool. It was hell for me.

My wife loved it. She purchased her own GPS the next day. I am the official crawler of the team. My wife will touch no geocache that requires that her knees touch the ground.

During this vacation we have discovered 36 caches within 4 miles of our house. It kept us busy. There was not much time for writing a blog.

When we weren't geocaching we were playing Qwirkle. This is a simple game for anyone but to be good at it takes concentration. If your mind wanders, you're beat.

My wife beat me 10 times in a row. My mind tends to wan....what was I talking about?

I think I have DAD (deficit attention disorder). I may be dyslexic also. As I like to say, "Dyslexic untie" , our battle cry. This has also blocked me from writing my blog.

The biggest obstacle to writing my blog is losing my creative writing nook. That would be my Milan Puff chair w/Ottoman. I am not quite sure which day I lost it, but it's gone.

Wilson and I had a tacit agreement that the chair would be exclusively mine but he could use the ottoman at any time.

He respected this agreement for many months. Then, one morning he breached the contract. I removed him from my chair and put him on the ottoman. He kept going back to the chair. Before going to bed, I would put the ottoman on the chair. This prevented him from using the chair while we were sleeping.

One morning I came downstairs for breakfast. I looked in the chair. He was scrunched up in the chair behind the ottoman. He had the look of defiance, the attitude of Houdini after a miraculous escape. His demeanor said it all, like "nice try, Bucko!!!"

I had seen that cattitude many times.

well, I guess I am going to have to share.

Didn't happen!!!

If I get to the chair first and I am blogging on my laptop, he gets on the side of the chair, pushes his head under the laptop and lifts and he keeps lifting until I dispose of the laptop.

If he sees me walking toward the chair, he will run to chair and hop in it and glare at me.

If I stand up to look out the window, which only takes 5 seconds, when I turn to sit down again, he is in my spot in the chair.

I think it's Wilson's favorite game.

One day I whined to my wife, "He is ruining my creative flow. He has taken over my chair, he has ruined my life. I am done as a writer, a blogger. I am sure Hemingway didn't have to put up with this problem."

My wife started laughing.

" Now your comparing yourself to Hemingway? If you're Hemingway, I'm Bill Gates.

Do You mean Ralph Hemingway? Incidentally, Ernest was a big fan of cats and he probably did have this problem. Stop your whining. Fight for your chair. Work it out among yourselves."

We did.

After much bickering, threats and cajoling we came to some sort of agreement.

As I write this from the kitchen table Wilson sits in my? chair. I am blocked from my writer's nook.

Writer's block indeed!!!!

He makes me smile every day.

Be good to your cat and he will be good to you.

He wakes me every morning. He will do this in a variety of ways. This morning he threw up on me.

This was different. He usually doesn't put bodily fluids on me. An occasional rancid fart that would peel wallpaper and kill any vermin in the immediate area is not uncommon, but bodily fluid, that was very creative. The pre-hurl hacking would have been sufficient.

"Hawook!....Hawook!" He back up as he hacks.

You can learn from cats, backing up does really work. You do feel better when you do back up while catapulting your macaroons. The problem with this strategy is you miss the bowl and your macaroons are not in their proper place. I am the designated macaroon cleaner upper at our house.

Our boy likes to wake us up in different ways. He is very creative. Have you ever felt a cold nose on your eyelid? Have you ever had a cat lying across your forehead? Have you ever had a cat stare at you from six inches away from your nose? You try to sneak a peak to see where he is. Surprise!!! 6 inches away!!!!

Our boy has many other tricks: The tail around the neck is effective, especially when he keeps wagging it. He uses his head to pick up my arm and drops it. He will nip fingers. He will walk on my chest and belly. He has nipped the hair on my head. He has stuck his cold wet nose in my ear while purring very loudly. When he gets bored with all this, he will start throwing our books onto the floor from the night stand. They make noise. Then it will be anything else left on the night stand. Money, pens. This usually gets our attention. We have an alarm clock from Brookstone. If you push on the top of the clock a woman's voice will come on and give you the time and temperature. . Our boy has pushed on it a couple of times. If he was really clever he would do this all the time. In fact, the little french lady and myself are usually smiling. He makes us smile.

When we get down stairs, He goes into his feeding shtick. He has a ceramic dish on a vinyl mat which is on ceramic floor. He pushes the ceramic dish across the ceramic floor. "BBRRRIIINNNGGGGGG!!!......BBBRRRIIINNNNNGGGG!!!!!"

The thing about our boy is: He does not meow! He is physically capable of meowing but he doesn't. His moves his lips and "smacks". He is a big believer in non-verbal communication. The "Feed me, Feed me" stare as he stands by his ceramic dish. He will haunt you nonverbally until he is fed. I now can eat my breakfast. There is a soft tap on my leg. "Make room on your lap. one cat coming for lap time." He will get up on my lap, take a peak at the table contents and then settle down for laptime.

Our boy is a pushy little guy. If I am sitting on the couch with my laptop and he wants more laptime he will put his nose under the laptop and lift. Hint:" I want that spot." When he wants to be groomed, he will walk half way onto my wife's lap. He will get into his grooming pose or posture. His rear left leg will be further back than his rear right leg and he will stare at you. (glare might be a better word). after you have done one side he will turn and face the opposite direction. Then he will lift his chin and he is ready for underneath his chin to be brushed. Then you will have to hold the brush with the numerous prongs facing him. You do not move. He will rub his face on the prongs and then he walks away. grooming is done!!!

People occasionally talk how difficult it is to train their cats. Cats sometime talk about how easy it is to train a human. (If they could talk)

Truthfully I don't think a cat has to talk. Our boy certainly has the art of human communication down to a science. Yup, He made an Art a science.

Someday I totally expect Wilson (our boy) to actually say something in human English. Actually talk!!! I will be shocked , of course! After 13 years of silence, not even a meow.

"Why didn't you talk before, Wilson?"

"Well, Everything was going pretty well until today."