Give Me Fancy Feast or Give Me Back to the Shelter

As we speak my cat is lying atop his empty bowl, glaring at me from the other side of the room.

I know that he is glaring because his normal 'saucer eyes' have turned to slits.

Someone, *cough* has forgotten to refill his Fancy Feast container, and he is NOT happy.

I've always been a dog person, until last year when I got Boots. He was just a kitten then and so cute that when the neighbor girl came to my house and told me the story about how he had been abandoned in a closet of an apartment building and needed a home, I couldn't resist.

Cats were easy, I convinced my husband. And he went along with it until the night Boots slept in our room and mistook his toe for a shiny mouse. There were a flurry of curse words spouted off in the middle of the night and Boots was never allowed in our room after 11 PM again.

Aside from that and the scratching (oh, does the scratching ever end?) Boots has been a pretty chill addition to the family. He follows me around and watches what I'm doing, he steals my make up brushes, and he cuddles up to Shawn during Mad Men (On more than one occasion I've got my husband giving the cat kitty kisses when he didn't think I was looking). He's been a part of my family for a year now.

So why do I go to so much trouble to accommodate him?

It turns out Boots, the feline that was abandoned in the closet just one short year ago, is a snob.

I've gone through every type of cat food there is, and when he finds one he likes, that's the ONLY kind he will eat. If that type of food is not served at the same time, in the same way, I get a well-timed meow and a look that would melt metal.

All fine and good except SOMEONE, I think my mother, gave the cat Fancy Feast a few months ago. Now he's too good for Sheba and don't get me started on Whiskers. And Gravy Sensations? Not so sensational.

What's worse is that he seems to have a preference every day about which type of Fancy Feast he desires. Somedays its tuna, others its chicken, but it's always with the label Primavera or Faire.

"The cat eats better than I do," my husband complains as I toss him a plate of half-frozen tator tots. I inform my husband that he's welcome to join Boots in his cuisine. It would make it easier on cooking and shopping.

Anyways, so yesterday I find myself LITERALLY reading off the labels of cat food to the f'ing cat, waiting for a responsive meow.

"Grilled Chicken with Delectable Vegetables?"

No response.

"Choice Cut Salmon with Garden Greens?"

Still no response.

When I pull out the can marked Tuna Florentine he begins purring so loudly I think he's having a seizure.

I'm not sure if he understands, but I can't risk it. I open it and pour it into his bowl, hoping for that this day at least, I've made the right choice.

He weighs 14 pounds. I really shouldn't worry.

But it's the guilt. That F'ing guilt of those cat eyes across the room, reminding me that he was a closet kitty a year ago.

And now he's a foody.

"Don't judge me," I say, as he seems to sneer at the Big Mac I'm having for dinner. "If you had simpler tastes I could afford better food myself."

He blinks at me and sits beside his bowl, waiting for his next meal.

The Sleep Number Experience

My husband and I used our vacation money this year to buy a sleep number bed. Dual chamber. It's pretty great, actually, and a king size. We'd been huddled up in a queen-sized torture chamber for nearly five years now and it was time to make a change.

If you've never been inside a sleep number store its pretty fun. They put you on one of their beds and you play with the buttons, making yourself go up and down, kinda like a hospital bed but its more internal. You can actually feel your organs being sucked in. I'm thinking it might be a good way to lose some weight.

Anyway, the sleep number dude showed us a visual presentation on how out of whack our backs were! He even had green, yellow, and red energy circles to demonstrate (there's
a little theatre over your head as you are testing it out). Once you hit 'your ideal sleep number' all the red lines go away and its green sailing from there on out.

So we got it and I have to say I love it. We each have our own sleep number side. The middle area is a battle ground.

I'm not sure why but my body has recently rebelled against sleep. At least lying down. I wake up in more pain and more tired than when I went to sleep. Now with my handy dandy vacation-costy bed, the pain is at a minimum. So worth it!

There's a remote that controls your number. 100 is as firm as it gets. Then you can soften it all the way down to zero.

Made me wonder. Wouldn't it be awesome if they had a similar invention for wives to use on their husbands? On some nights, we'd crank him up to 100. On the nights we just want to watch Heart of Dixie and eat ice cream, deflate that sucker till he's an innie.

Oh, well, I can dream. For now I can at least operate my bed.

Launch Party Fun!

Come to my launch party tonight! 20 FREE books given away, including my new release The Magick of Dark Root.

https://www.facebook.com/events/784660798233297/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming

Goodreads Giveaway

If you're on Goodreads enter to win my second book in The Daughters of Dark Root series. In paperback! Its about four witchy sisters who have returned to their magical hometown of Dark Root, Oregon, only to find life isn't as easy as they expected.
When they attempt to make things easier through witchcraft, things go a bit, um, wrong.
Can be read as a stand alone book.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22445939-the-magick-of-dark-root

Meandering Monday

A marvelous Monday, yet I feel lost.
So much to do this week and I'm not sure where to get started.
I have a book launch party on Wednesday, a book blog tour I'm getting ready for, a book Im currently writing (you'd think writers would have an easier life right? sitting around eating bon bons in between commercials) and a yard sale on Saturday.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. Life is good.
There was a time in my life when I was going to school AND being a parent. There were even times in my life where I was homeless and not sure where my next meal would come from. I'm not sure how I got through that. But I did.
Now I fret over which incredibly
amazing task I have to conquer each day.
For now, I will stare at my cat as he's staring out the window.
He's longing to be outside, and I'm just cozy and happy, glad to be inside.

Trust the Process

Well, I'm done writing the last book and I've officially begun the next book. The only thing is, it's really hard to find my voice this time. Jumping from a suspense book to a comedy can be daunting. I'm hoping as time goes on I will relax into it.

I have to have faith though. They've all worked out so far. I'm not a huge plotter. I have an idea of what the book should be about and some major plot points, but I never know what I will actually type. Characters just pop into my head and I'm like, "oh, that's how that happens."

Lesson here: When writing, trust the process. If you plot it out too much it seems to lose its magic. At least for me. Writing should be as much a journey for the author as it is for the reader. Then when something is discovered, you discover it together.

The Magick of Dark Root Release

Book Link
Out today! The Magick of Dark Root.

A magical mystery about magic, sacrifice, family, sisters, and the healing power of love.

Book Two in Daughters of Dark Root
series but can be read as a stand alone.