bling-a-bling-bling...

Yoo-hoo!  YOO-HOO!!!  I got some more awards.  A couple of them were repeats for me but that's okay 'cause I might have mentioned how I love the bling.  I do.  I really, really do.

Two very good friends gave me the Liebster Award.  Although I had already received and passed it along, both Bumpy from Mr. Bumpy Cat and Selina from over at One Eye on the Future had some really neat questions to answer that were different from the ones I answered before.  So...  I just thought...  I'd take this opportunity to thank Bumpy and Selina very, very much and to go ahead and answer their questions just for fun.  Thank you Bumpy!  Thank you Selina!  Thank you very much!!

Bumpy asked me the following eleven questions....

  1.  Why do you blog?
       'Cause I've got stuff to say!  Ummm...  I mean, write.
  2.  If you could be a spokescat for any product, company or cause, what would it be?
       NO-kill shelters and TNR programs.
  3.  Why?
       'Cause I was a feral kitty myself.  Had I been livin' in the wrong place or taken to one of those
        horrid high-kill shelters, odds are I wouldn't be alive today.
  4.  What's your human's most annoying habit?
       Her caterwauling.  Worst part is when she practices at homes and it hurts my ears.
  5.  What would your human say is your most annoying habit?
       She would say the truth...   that I don't have any.
  6.  If you could be a human for a day, what would you do?
       Sell the piano so that peep #1 couldn't practice her caterwauling which, I might have mentioned,
       hurts my sensitive ears.
  7.  What one thing do you wish someone would invent?
       Hmmm...  well, I do a little inventin' myself, now and then.  Sure could do with a couple of
       opposeable thumbs for cats though.
  8.  What's your favourite toy?
       I love the nip so anything filled with it is at the top of my list.  I must say, however, that my
       friend Spitty sent me a feather wand toy, which I had never had before.  I LOVE IT!  Doesn't
       have the nip but, nevertheless, it's an amazin' toy!
  9.  What's your favourite place to nap?
       In a sun puddle.
10.  If it were up to you, what would be the penalty for the crime of being a flea?
       I suppose fleas can't really help that they're born fleas. 
       But I do think they should all be sent away and forced
       to join a circus or somethin'.
11.  If you were to have a pawty, what would the cake be
       made of?
       Nip!  Did I mention how I love the stuff?


The next batch of questions are from Selina.  Again, very good questions that simply must be answered.

  1.  What is your favourite treat?
       Green Treat Temptations.
  2.  Favourite toy?
       Nip filled mice, snakes, fish, birds...  As long as there's nip, I'm a happy kitty.
  3.  Favourite place to sleep?
       In a sun puddle.
  4.  Favourite television show to watch with your humans?
       I always watch The Big Bang Theory with the peeps but we usually watch Masterpiece Theatre
       together, too.
  5.  What was your naughtiest naughty?
       Me?  Naughty???  Never!
  6.  How did you meet your humans?
       When I was a few weeks old, my mama carried me over to their veranda by the scruff of my
       neck.  The veranda is now mine!
  7.  What do you like most about being a cat?
       Everything!  We cats are the best.
  8.  What shelter or rescues do you give paws up to.
       Well, the peeps try to help out with the Valley WAAG Animal Shelter.  That one is local.  Then
       there are all those rescues who pull cats from the NYC ACC kill lists every day.  I give them my
       full support by helpin' to get the word out, every night.
  9.  What is your favourite cat holiday?
       Santa always brings a lot of toys with nip so I think I've gotta go with Christmas.
10.  What is the one thing you do that makes your humans smile the most?
       Peep #1 says that just lookin' at me makes her heart smile.  Don't know what I do for that to
       happen.  Just be me, I suppose.


Next thing I knew, by good pal Speedy who writes Speedy the Cheeky House Bunny gave me the Versatile Blogger Award.  Again, I had already received it but I still wanted to thank Speedy very much for thinkin' of me.  Thank you Speedy!  Then I figured, why not tell the world seven more things about myself?  But I'm gonna add a twist.  Here goes...

  1.  I like climbin' trees.
  2.  Normally, I'm a very good tree climber.
  3.  Friday night, I came home with a sore paw.
  4.  Saturday morning, I had x-rays at the hospital.
  5.  Apparently, I've torn all the ligaments in my right knee and
       there's nothing holding my leg together!
  6.  Wednesday, I'm goin' into hospital for knee surgery.
  7.  Currently, I'm on pretty strong pain meds and must take it easy.

How's that for a twist, huh?


But I'm not done.  Just the other day, Angel from angelswhisper2011 gave me this beautiful Best Moment Award.  I've never received this one before so I think that means that I've gotta follow the rules... pain meds or not.

RULES FOR BEST MOMENT AWARD:
 

Winners re-post this completely with their acceptance speech.
This could be written or video recorded.
Winners have the privilege of awarding the next awardees!
The re-post should include a NEW set of people/blogs worthy of the award;
and winners notify them the great news.

RESOURCES:

What makes a good acceptance speech?
-Gratitude. Thank the people who helped you along the way
-Humor. Keep us entertained and smiling
-Inspiration. Make your story touch our lives
Get an idea from the great acceptance speeches, compiled in MomentMatters.com/Speech
Display the award’s badge on your blog/website, downloadable in MomentMatters.com/Award

The rules say that I'm supposed to write an acceptance speech.  Never done that before but here goes...

I'd like to thank the academy...  Oops.  I'd like to thank Angel and Speedy and Selina and Bumpy for all the beautiful, gorgeous and amazing awards they have bestowed upon me.  I'd like to thank them all, from the bottom of my heart.  And the top and middle parts of my heart, too.  Oh, and I mustn't forget those left and right ventri thingies...  whatever they are.

Although I am a true lover of the bling, there is something even better than bling, you know.  That would be friends.  My friends of the blogosphere are the best friends there can be.  I appreciate so much that they find Nerissa's Life worthy of bein' read.  I'm so happy that they visit me here on my blog and even happier that they come back!  To...  FRIENDS!

Now, I'm gonna pass along the Best Moment Award to a few more friends....

- Bumpy at Mr. Bumpy Cat
- Selina at One Eye on the Future
- Speedy at Speedy the Cheeky House Bunny
- Herman at It's a Wonderpurr Life
- Simba at Simba's Antics
- Spitty at Spitty Speaks
- Sammy at onespoiledcat
- Savannah at Savannah's Paw Tracks
- Nellie at Cat from Hell
- Katie at Katie Isabella
- Texas at Texas, a Cat in New York
- Mario at Mario's Meowsings


Well, that's it for today, I'm afraid.  I think I've gotta go find myself a sun puddle or something and have a little nap.  Those pain thingies sure do make you sleepy.  Might even nab a snack on the way to the sun puddle.  I could really do with a little something in my tummy, right about now.  Oh peepers...

an apple a day...

My sister, Tobias, has a new hobby.

Well...  her hobby isn't brand spankin' new.  She discovered it about a month ago.  I think the peeps think she has been doin' it for even longer than that but that's probably just 'cause they're findin' it to be a little bit annoying.  Just a tad.  Just a wee bit.  Just a whisker's width.

Toby has discovered that it's fun to knock stuff off tables.  She hops right up onto the coffee table, in the family room, and spots something worth knocking.  She eyes it first, givin' it the once over.  Then, ever-so-gently, a paw extends.  A gentle tap followed by another and then another until - you guessed it - whatever it was that was on the table is now off the table.  Peering over the table's edge, she watches her prey fall to the ground.

Pens, papers, magazines...  all of these objects have fallen victim to Toby's new hobby.  She even managed to get her paws on some hand cream a couple of times.  The peeps no longer leave anything sharp like scissors on that table.  Too dangerous if they should fall on one of us cats or a peep's toe, you see.  Nothin' breakable, either.  Toby's not ready for breakables.  I'm sure you can understand why. 

Now, this may be Toby's new hobby but I, myself, have been doin' stuff like this for years.  I don't limit myself to coffee tables, however.  No, I have taken the art form to new heights.  Specifically, the height of the kitchen counters.  They're twice the height of the coffee table, for sure.  Also, unlike the coffee table, counters hold the deliciously delightful things I call breakables.  Breakables add a whole new feature to the game, you know.  And, of course, breakables...  non-breakables...  doesn't matter...  they all fall to the floor.  Yup.  It's true.  Gravity acts on 'em all.

I once read about this guy named Sir Isaac Newton.  It is said that he was sittin' under an apple tree, minding his own business, when an apple fell on his head causin' him to discover this thing we call gravity.  That's right.  Supposedly, he gets bonked on the head and that bonkin' causes him to understand all about somethin' called the gravitational constant.  Then he starts writing down a whole whack of letters, creating formulae and whatnot, to represent apples fallin' from trees.  Apparently, the apples in question needed instructions to fall, or somethin' like that.  No one really knows for sure.  It was a long time ago.

But I'm not sure that I believe this whole apple business.  I mean, if I was sittin' under an apple tree and that tree bonked me on the head with one of its apples, I'd be a little annoyed with said apple tree.  Wouldn't you?  And, what if that apple was a big and heavy ol' apple.  Bein' bonked with something like that could really hurt a cat's head.  A cat might even be knocked unconscious by something like that.  On the other paw, I do do some of my best work in an unconscious state.   A state which I call napping.  But seriously, an apple a day is supposed to keep the doctor away.  Bein' bonked on the head with one of 'em is far more likely to get you a trip to the vet.

We have a few apple trees, in my garden, although most of them are grumpy.  Or are they crabby?  Doesn't really matter.  My point is, I don't see many apples fallin' from 'em.  I'm far more likely to see acorns fall from the oaks.  Oak trees drop their acorns a lot.  Can't seem to hold onto 'em.  Sometimes they drop 'em on their own, sometimes with the help of those pesky squirrels.  Either way, a cat has gotta watch his head when it's acorn season.

I suppose that this Newton fellow would say that this gravity stuff applies to acorns in the same manner as it applies to apples.  And he would be right about that.  Actually, I think he should have started with acorns in the first place.  I find the idea of bein' bonked on the head with an acorn far more believable than bein' apple bonked.  Those acorns are tricksters for sure.  Little breeze picks up and you've got a whole acorn shower on your paws.  Yup...  rainin' acorns.

You know, I've never actually knocked an acorn or an apple off the kitchen counter.  To be honest, I've never even seen an acorn on the counter.  Apples though...  uh huh...  uh huh...  Actually, I think there might be some apples on the kitchen counter right now.  I might have spotted some apples up there this morning.  Hmmm....  I wonder if a little experimentation is in order...  Be right back.

d is for doxacatgrapher

D is for doxacatgrapher.  Did you know that?  No?  Don't worry, neither did I.  I had no idea what a doxacatgrapher was until today.  'Cause it was just today when I invented the word.

And do you know what else?  It turns out that I am one.  Yup.  It's true.  I am a doxacatgrapher. 

Doxa means opinion and grapher has stuff to do with writing and whatnot, I think.  There already was a term, doxographer.  My pals from Oxford say that a doxographer is a writer.  But not just any ol' writer.  Doxographers went about collecting and recording opinions.  Specifically, those opinions of the philosophers of ancient Greece. 

Well, I don't know 'bout you but I don't know a whole lot of ancient Greek philosophers.  Sure, I might have heard about them or even read about them but I don't know them.  As a matter of fact, I don't think I know a single one.  I am workin' on building a time machine and if I can ever figure out how to hook the doohickey up to the thingamajig that sits next to that whatchamacallit, I might just be able to meet a couple of them but until then, I'm fresh out of ancient philosophers.

This is exactly why my new word, doxacatgrapher, will be so useful in the twenty-first century.  It's a modern word for modern times.  You see, a doxacatgrapher doesn't collect the opinions of philosophers from the times of long, long ago.  A doxacatgrapher doesn't need a time machine in order to do his or her work.  All a doxacatgrapher needs is a computer.  Well, that and an Internet connection.

This is because doxacatgraphers are, in fact, cat bloggers.  A doxacatgrapher is a blogger who collects and records the opinions of cats.  Usually, cats who philosophise. 

And doxacatgraphers do not need to be cats, themselves.  They could be peeps or dogs or even bunnies.  I know a lot of doxacatgraphers and I will admit that while most of them are cats, a good number of them are of other species. 

Of course, a cat blogger such as myself does have an advantage when it comes to doxacatgraphing.  You see, I myself have been known to philosophise a little and...  I'm a cat.  Therefore, my personal philosophies are, in fact, the philosophies of cats.  So...  while sometimes I do go out and collect the opinions of other cats, sometimes...  I just collect my own opinions.  I do have quite a few of them, you know.  This has never really been a problem.  Occasionally, I might come up with a few contradictory opinions and that can result in one gargantuan headache, of course.  It's very difficult to not listen to what is bein' said between your two, very own ears, you know.  You can try wearin' ear plugs but that usually just makes it worse.  The dissenting opinions of the contradictory philosophies tend to reverberate within your head, bouncing from ear to ear but never makin' their escape 'cause of the ear plugs blockin' their paths.  Finally, you just have to hack up the ol' hairball and let it loose in the world.  But I digress...  Luckily for me, most of the time, I tend to agree with me, myself and I.  I mean...  who wouldn't?

But I do have a word of warning for cat, doxacatgraphers.  A doxacatgrapher does not need to be a cat him or herself however, they must collect the opinions of cats and not the opinions of lesser species.  Sometimes, we cat bloggers are recordin' the opinions of someone else.  Someone who is not a cat.  It is very easy for a cat blogger to collect the opinions of peeps and think that they are doxacatgraphing.  But at that moment, they're not.  Not every blogging cat is a doxacatgrapher.  And not every doxacatgrapher is doxacatgraphing with every post.  Sometimes, we cats are just blogging.  Just blogging 'bout stuff and whatnot.

And that's for the best, I think.  You know what they say...  variety is the spice of life.  Well...  peeps say that.  We cats would say that the true spice of life is anchovy paste.  Hey, do you know something?  I, Nerissa the cat, just doxacatgraphised!  And that was a perfect example of doxacatgraphing, if I do say so, myself.

crazy peeps

The peeps went to Halifax, yesterday.  Both of them...  together.  MOUSES! 

Halifax is kind of far away, I think.  I've never been there myself but I've heard stuff.  I've heard stuff about it bein' kind of far away.  Also, I know for a fact that whenever one of my peeps goes there, they're gone for almost the entire day.  Thus, I have deduced that it really is kind of far away. 

The first few peepless hours are okay, I suppose.  I always take this opportunity to get in some power naps without anyone disturbing me, wantin' cuddles and kisses and whatnot.  But then lunchtime arrives.  Although the peeps always leave plenty of snacks and stuff, it's just not the same as bein' served your meals on a silver platter with the good china.  Not that I am, currently, served my meals on a silver platter with the good china...  but I'm workin' on that.  Could happen, eventually, if I play my cards right.  Hmmm...  I had better get myself a deck of cards, I should think.

So after some snackin' from our regular ol' dishes, I usually do a little investigative work.  No peeps means no limits.  Tops of counters, tops of dressers, kitchen table, etc...  Now, to be honest, I go all those places, anyway.  But with no peeps to give me questioning looks, I can delve a little more deeply into the mysteries of the universe.  Mysteries like...  why does peep #1 have multiple bottles of stink on her dresser?  Is not one bottle of stink, enough?  Why must she make herself smell like roses and lily-of-the-valley and who knows what else?  Also, just how many cats can climb up a pair of pants hangin' in the closet before something gives?  Or, why does plastic not break when knocked off the kitchen counter like glass and ceramic?  You know...  mysteries.

Investigative work can tire a cat out so after that's all none, it's usually time for more naps.  Also, it's about then when I start missin' all the interruptions from the peeps wantin' cuddles and kisses and whatnot.  I try to get in a good sleep and hope that, when I awake, my peeps will be home.

Well, that's just what happened yesterday.  I woke up from my late afternoon nap just as the peeps were comin' in the door.  And let me tell you...  I had some mighty grumpy peeps on my paws, for sure.  Don't know why they bother going to Halifax if it's gonna upset them so.  Makes absolutely no sense to me.

Peep #1 was the grumpiest of the two.  I understand that she had been the one doin' all the driving.  Well, I can certainly understand how a two hour car drive might make one grumpy.  Two minutes is enough to get me complaining and unfortunately, my doctors' clinic is more than two minutes away.

The first peep was complaining up a storm 'bout the crazy peeps out on the road, yesterday.  Now, believe you me, I know all about crazy peeps.  I live with a couple of them, myself!  But apparently, there are even crazier ones out there than mine.  And they become even crazier than crazy when driving their cars.  Who knew?

Coming home yesterday, ol' peepers was stuck behind a string of cars for...  for...  for practically, forever.  She said the driver way up at the front of the line would be goin' one hundred kilometres an hour for a bit, then slow down to eighty, then back up to one hundred, then down to fifty...  Everyone was tryin' to pass him and, eventually, they all did.  Even the peep.  The peep got a good look at him, then, and said he was the grumpiest lookin' man on earth.  His hands were glued to the steering wheel and there was a sneer frozen on his face.  I narrowed my eyes and tried to imagine this man, supposedly lookin' even grumpier than how my peeps were looking at that moment.  Hmmm...  I found it difficult to believe that could be possible but if it was...  scary!  Grumpy Cat, you might have some competition on your paws.  But there's more.  Once my peep #1 had passed the grumpiest man on earth, she saw that he had only one headlight.  Or, at least, only one of them worked.  I think he might have been workin' with only half a deck of cards, too.  MOUSES!

Poor peepers.  Driving into the city had taken its toll, as well.  This massive truck loaded up with a whole whack of bundles wrapped in pink stuff passed her, at some point.  A few minutes later, they came to a hill.  Well, of course, the truck driver had to slow way down on the hill and put on his flashers.  So the peep passed him.  That's reasonable, I suppose.  But then, five minutes later, the truck was passing her again.  She said she was goin' the speed limit so he must had been drivin' way too fast to catch up and pass her.  Once more, they came to another hill and buddy-in-the-truck was down to seventy.  So the peep passed him.  Only to be passed again by him, ten minutes later.  MOUSES!  All this unnecessary passing and whatnot.  I'm just glad my peeps got home, safe and sound.

I've heard 'bout all these crazy peeps out on the road, before.  I've heard about them from my peeps, of course, but I also sometimes watch Judge Judy.  Lots of information 'bout crazies to be found there, for sure.  From all I've heard, I have come to the conclusion that there are some pretty crazy peeps in the world.  Crazy, crazy, crazy...  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies.  Crazier than a whole whack of squirrels makin' nut pies.  And the craziest part?  The craziest part is that, apparently, they all have licences to drive!  MOUSES!

a rose by any other name...

BREAKING NEWS...  tomorrow is my birthday!  That's right...  and I'm gonna be ten.  Yup, it was a whole ten years ago, tomorrow, when I came into this world.  A whole ten years...  That's somethin' to celebrate, for sure.  If you don't know the story 'bout how I came to be, you can read all about it in my post from last year entitled, "it's my birthday..."

You know...  I have been truly blessed.  Pals from all over the blogosphere have been sending me cards to celebrate my big day.  That's right...  I got mail!  My BFF, Herman, from It's a Wonderpurr Life sent this neat one with me as a news broadcaster.  Herman understands my penchant for bringin' the news to the world.  My pal Sammy from onespoiledcat sent the fun-filled card below.  He knows how I love a good party.  And I do!  Party should have been my middle name, I think.  Either that, or nip.  'Cause I do love the nip.  And then the lovely Savvy from Savannah's Paw Tracks sent the touchin' card showin' her blogging to me and me blogging right back.  Savvy and I are blogging buddies, you know.  That sure is a nice card, Savvy.  Like I said, I've been truly blessed with so many wonderful pals.

But all this talk 'bout birthdays and whatnot has got me thinking 'bout names.  Specifically, my name.  And even more specifically, the fact that the ol' peepers gave me, a blogging MANcat, a girls' name!  What's up with that?

It all goes back to prehistoric times when ol' peepers was at University.  There, she studied what is called, "acting."  Yup, ol' peepers was an actin' major.  Anywho...  I guess all that make believe mumbo-jumbo stuff gave her a taste of the ol' Shakespeare.  And when I say old, I mean OLD 'cause he's even older than the peep!  But I digress...  Because of the mumbo and the jumbo, when my siblings and I were born, peepers gave us all Shakespearean names.  It's true.  My sisters Beatrice and Constance were named after characters in Much Ado About Nothing and King John, respectively.  My brother Desdemona was named after a character in Othello and I, Nerissa the Cat, was named after Portia's side-kick in Merchant of Venice. 

I guess that it's kind of neat that we were all given Shakespearean names.  Somewhat sophisticated, I suppose.  And they are all really pretty names.  But still, none of that excuses Peep #1 for givin' Desdemona and me girls' names.  I mean, she could have come up with a couple of boys' names.  There are boys in Shakespeare, you know!  In fact, there are way more boys than girls in Shakespeare.  Way more.  Of course you know that.  I know that.  It's only the ol' peep who doesn't seem to know it.

The peep says that she didn't know that Desdemona and I were boys.  She says, that 'cause we were feral and wouldn't let her near us for so long, she had no way of telling.  I say, MOUSES!  She could have asked our mama!  Our mama knew we were boys.  Peeps!!!

I sure do hope that Prince William and Princess Kate do a better job of namin' their baby than my peep did of naming me.  I'm pretty sure they will.  I really can't imagine that they could be anywhere near as silly as my peep.

But speakin' of the Royal Baby...  if she happens to be a girl...  how 'bout Princess Nerissa?  Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?  And then, of course, she would eventually become Queen Nerissa.  I like it!  Who am I kidding...   I LOVE IT!!!  Nerissa would be a great name for the Royal Baby.  As long as she's a girl...

I really do believe that if the Royal Baby turns out to be a boy, his parents will have the sense to give him a boys' name.  Unlike my ol' peepers here who must have been absent the day sense was bein' handed out.  'Cause...  you know...  she gave me, a boy, a girls' name and all.

But what is in a name, anyway?  This gal named Juliet once said, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."  So I guess that means that even though I am a boy who was given a girls' name, I'm still a boy.  Givin' me a girls' name doesn't somehow make me a girl, right?  I'm pretty sure that's what Juliet meant.  I don't think she was actually talking 'bout roses.  Even though roses do smell sweet.  And I'm really sure that she wasn't talking 'bout rose-scented litter boxes or anything like that.  I don't think they even make rose-scented litter boxes.  Unless, of course, you happen to be a cat livin' in a house with a rose garden.  Wait a minute.  Just wait a cotton nip picking minute there.  I'm a cat.  I'm a cat who lives in a house.  I'm a cat who lives in a house with a garden in which some roses grow.  That means...  I have a rose-scented litter box!  Wow, they do make 'em.  Maybe that's what Juliet meant all along?  I'll have to have a little think on that one.  Yup, I really do think I will.

 

 

 

 

way past my bedtime

Spring has finally sprung here in good ol' Nova Scotia and thank goodness for that 'cause I was beginning to wonder.  I was beginning to wonder if it might stay cold for...  forever, or something like that.

I had to keep a close eye on that ol' man winter.  He kept wanting to stick around.  I think he thought he had squatters' rights or something.  Finally, I put my paw down and said, "Mr. Winter...  GO AWAY!"  He must have listened 'cause I do believe he has finally gone.  Watched the last of the snow receding the other week.  And boy-oh-boy...  talk about a dawdler!  I thought I was watchin' a glacier move, or somethin' like that.  Yup.  It took that long.  Had to have a few naps in between spells of watching it leave.  There's still a little mound of the stuff in front of the garage, where the snowplow guy piles it high when he does the driveway, but that will go soon enough, I think.  It had better go!  I've had just about as much of the white stuff as I can take for a bit.  I'm ready for spring and all that it brings.

You know, I've been doin' my daily garden inspections and have found that the garden is ready for spring, too.  For quite some time now, the hazelnut bush has been blooming.  At least I think it's bloomin'.  Ol' peepers says they're blooms but they don't like flowers to me.  For starters, they're brown.  Who ever hear of brown flowers?  I mean...  sure, if they're all shrivelled up and dead 'cause the peep forgot to replace the water in the vase...  well then...  yeah, brown is to be expected.  But when they're still alive on the bush, one expects to see a little colour or something.

To be honest, I don't know if the hazelnut is a bush or a tree.  It kind of looks like a bush but it's gettin' super tall, like a tree.  Maybe it's a really, really tall bush.  Or perhaps it's a really, really short and squat tree.  I don't think it knows what it is.  But whether it's a bush or a tree, I sure am hopin' it will bear some nuts this year.  I'm thinkin' we might be in for an especially good season of squirrel TV, if it does.

And as those of you who follow me on Facebook already know, I've been watching the daffodils very closely, waitin' for them to bloom so that I can pose with them and have the peep take my picture.  So far, the only ones to bloom are little jonquils growing in a pot in the house.  MOUSES!  They're just tiny and there aren't enough of 'em for proper posin' material.  The peep likes 'em, though.  Personally, I'm waiting for the big ones to bloom outside.  Those are the best ones to use in my picture posing sessions.

The peep has been paying attention to the arrival of spring, too.  Lately, she has been hauling potted rose bushes out of the garage each morning and hauling them back in, every night.  Seems like a lot of foolishness to me but she thinks it's necessary.  I'm not sure that roses think so, though.  They're already fighting back, you know.  Just yesterday, one of them gave ol' peepers her first rose bush scratch of the season.  I say first 'cause I'm sure there will be many more to come. 

I've also noticed some additional roses in my office.  It's okay, I like to look at 'em when I'm workin' on my blog.  I think the peep is gonna pot 'em up in bigger pots to go outside when it's warmer.  You know...  once spring has been around for a little longer and whatnot.  And once the nights are warm, too.  The nights are still pretty chilly.  Too chilly for roses in full bloom, I'm afraid.

I'm lookin' forward to warmer nights, as well.  I like getting to be out in the evenin'.  The other night, I stayed out until almost midnight!  That's way past my bedtime but it was still on the mild side and I was havin' so much fun that the peep let me stay out late. 

I wasn't alone.  My brother Seville was with me and we played and we played and we played.  We chased each other around the driveway and then we chased some leaves 'cause there was a bit of a breeze and some old leaves that never got raked up last fall were blowing around.  I love chasing leaves!  It's one of my favourite things to do, you know.  The peep left the light on by the side door so that we wouldn't be in total darkness.  That was good, I think, 'cause it was too cloudy for there to be much moon or starlight.  We had such a great time!  I wanna do that again and really, really soon.

I'm so looking forward to more evenings like that.  I'm gonna ask the peep if I can have a later bedtime, I think.  After all, it is my birthday in just a few days and I'm gonna be ten!  That's like...  mid-fifties in peep years.  Surely when one is in their mid-fifties, one should be able to stay up later at night.  I mean...  ol' peepers isn't even that old.  If she's allowed to stay up past midnight - and she is - then I should be allowed to stay up past midnight.  I really think a later bedtime would be appropriate.  Don't you agree? 

a trojan horse

Believe it or not, we cats have enemies.  We do.   It's true.  It's a fact.  And right at the top of our list of enemies is...  duh, duh, duh, duuuhhhh....  the dreaded vacuum.

The vacuum is a despicable creature.  Bred to produce as much ear irritating noise as is humanly possible.  With a flick of a button, peeps have control over this horrendous and contemptible monstrosity from which unimaginable sounds emanate.  Vacuums are a cat's worst nightmare.  They are the makings of horror movies.  Why that Stephen King fellow has not yet written a book about them, is unfathomable.  I'm sure he must be one in the making.

A few weeks ago, I overheard peep #2 on the telephone.  I couldn't believe my ears.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing the peep say.  The peep was ordering...  a new vacuum.  MOUSES!

We cats had already killed one vacuum.  Yes, the peeps have - or rather, had - two of them.  The canister monster was our intended victim.  We shed and we shed and we shed until we could shed no more.  The vast quantities of fur twelve cats can shed in late winter and early spring is quite considerable.  It is, in fact...  vast.  The poor little vacuum couldn't handle it anymore.  It just couldn't take it.  It spewed and it sputtered but it could suck up no more.  It had had it.  And just to get our point across...  to make sure we were fully understood...  to make sure the beast was well and truly dead...  one of us peed on it.  That's right, we peed on the vacuum.  Made sure it the most difficult part of the monster to clean up, too.  Quite an effective statement, I do believe.

As far as I was concerned, that was one down, one to go.  Never did I ever imagine that the beast could be replaced!  But once I overheard my peeps' plans to do exactly that, I knew I had to do something about the situation, immediately.  I just knew it.  But what?  What to do...  what to do... 

I devised a plan and began its implementation.  Everything was going smoothly until last Wednesday night.  Peep #1 had just returned from caterwauling practice when peep #2 called out to her.  Apparently, a box had been discovered on the veranda.

Now, normally, boxes are good things.  Normally, boxes are great.  Normally, boxes are fantastically wonderful and absolutely delightful.  This particular box, however, was a horse in disguise.  A Trojan horse, I do believe.  'Bout the size and weight of one, too.  Did this box contain a murderous and well armed army, you might very well ask?  No...  worse.  It contained...  the new vacuum.

Apparently, sometime during the day, the courier had delivered the vacuum and left it on the veranda.  The peeps believe it was a courier.  No one ever saw him or her, leaving the box.  They're just assuming, I think.  This supposed courier didn't ring the bell or knock on the door or anything like that.  The peeps never knew the vacuum was there until peep #2 discovered it, quite accidentally, that night.

The peeps say that leaving the vacuum on the veranda like that was a silly thing for the courier to do.  Anyone could have come along and taken it.  Goodness knows I wish they had.  In fact, that was my plan all along.  That was what was supposed to happen.  What on earth could have gone wrong?

After hearin' peep #2 on the telephone ordering a replacement monster, I got on the Internet right away.  I left strict instructions with that courier company.  I told them that their delivery person was to leave the vacuum on the veranda without telling a soul.  They were to dump it and run. 

My plan was that someone - ANYONE - would come along and take that monster for themselves.  I figured that the longer it was left unattended on the veranda, the more likely it would be stolen.  It should have been stolen!  Unfortunately, my plan didn't work out.  MOUSES! 

Either our neighbours are all too honest or the fact that the monster was hiding in that ol' Trojan horse of a box threw them off.  They might have thought it was just a box.  Although that makes no sense 'cause anyone in their right mind would want a box.  Boxes are far more desirable than vacuums.  Boxes are good.  Vacuums are...  well...  you know.

I don't really know for sure where my plans went belly up.  Back to the drawing board, I suppose.  I'm not giving up, yet.  Rest assured, no vacuum is gonna get the better of me!

wham! bam! thank you... spam?

And so, we meet again, my friend.  Once more you have chosen to cross my path in the wondrous world that is the blogosphere.  No lessons learnt from our last encounter?  Apparently not. 

My, you are a stubborn little fellow, aren't you?  Always in hiding.  Always hiding behind the name...  Anonymous.  Yes, I'm talking 'bout you, Mr Anonymous Spam.  You keep coming back.  Again and again and again.  You're kind of like a bad case of the fleas.  They make topical treatments for that, you know.  I can put you in contact with my doctor, if you like.  A dab on the back of the neck, once a month, is all it takes.

It seems that every day, you leave me comments.  I keep finding those comments you leave in my spam folder.  I'm not overly surprised about that.  After all, your last name is Spam.  You're the only one of my pals who has their very own folder on Blogger.  Imagine that.  How does a cat get one of those?  Can you buy them?  Are they for sale?  Perhaps for lease?

I only ask because I've noticed you seem to be very interested in sales.  Lately you've been interested in selling me money.  Selling me money in the form of loans.  Weird, that, you know.  The concept of selling money.  I mean...  usin' money to buy money?  Hmmm...  What's even weirder is the concept of you selling money on my blog.  And yet...  you continue to try.  Sometimes once...  sometimes twice...  once even three times in one day!  That must have been quite a busy day for you, huh?

It appears that although the selling of money is your main line of business, you've also been dabbling in the sale of toys.  Now, there's nothing wrong with toys.  I have a number of them, myself.  I particularly like ones filled with the nip - 'cause I'm sort of addicted to the stuff, you know - but I love a good wand toy.  I've never owned a wand toy with feathers.  Word around the blogosphere is that wand toys with feathers are exceptionally fun.  Do you have any of those in stock?  I might just be interested in one of those.  But no...  probably not.  I don't believe you have any cat toys.  I don't know that you have any toys at all.  For all I know, you might not even be selling toys.  You might be usin' this whole toy business as a ruse or something like that.  But if you actually are sellin' toys and you wanna sell those toys on a cat's blog, let me give you a piece of advice.  Try sellin' toys for cats!  It's only logical.

Then there was that business 'bout the collagen. I don't know if you were tryin' to sell me a skin cream or somethin' to lower my cholesterol.  And there was mention made of rubber chickens.  Hmmm...  Let me explain a little something to you.  As a cat, my skin is covered by my fur.  No need for fancy schmancy skin creams here.  And although I do eat chicken...  it always comes out of a tin and it's never rubber. 

Just yesterday, you offered to write my posts for me.  Excuse me but...  I am Nerissa and this blog is the story of my life...  not yours!

Finally, there was that other comment.  The comment totally unrelated to toys and loans and the sellin' of stuff.  You know the one.  The comment, "So, what can all this mean?  Here is my site..."  Were you askin' me to explain to you the meaning of life or somethin'?  Or did you think that you were going to explain the meaning of life to me, on your site? 

Hmmm...  that's probably not gonna happen.  For two reasons, I should think.  Reason number one is that I'm a cat and we cats already understand the meaning of life.  After all...  we're cats. 

Reason number two is that I never go to your site.  Nope...  not ever...  nadda...  not a once.  I know better than to click on some unknown link.  Some unknown link, lurking on my blog, waitin' for some poor unsuspecting peep to accidentally click it.  That would be foolish and as a cat...  I don't do foolish.  I do naps.  I do nip.  Occasionally, I indulge in a little cream.  But foolish?  NEVER!

So in closing, I'm just gonna offer you a little advice that might save you some time.  I have no intention of allowin' you to post your anonymous links on my blog.  No intention at all.  I have a delete button and I'm not afraid to use it.