My parents came for a brief visit on their way back to sunny Florida (from snowy West Virginia). We had a lot of fun, even if we did only have basically one day. We ran some errands, walked around the Arboretum, shopped at the local Asian market and Carolina Farmin’, drank chai, and ate good food (thai Monday night and Mexican Tuesday evening).

The Arboretum has finished adding a few new features, and even though not much was in bloom, the place was still lovely.

It took a few tries to get Mom and Dad to hold still for a picture. And then, when I finally got a decent shot, it turns out Mom was blinking. (Oops.) So, here’s the best shot:

Yesterday evening, we were all tuckered out. I put the cats in the laundry room (where they sleep) when Mom and Dad went to bed. I tried to stay up to wait for Jesse to return from band practice, but I gave up around 10:30. Before heading to bed, I remembered I hadn’t scooped the litter box, so I went into the laundry room to change it, and this is what I found:

They’ve got their own beds (and the one next to this one is larger). But it’s winter, so what better time for cuddling?

One added benefit of keeping the house on the chilly side (besides the energy savings) is how cuddly the cats become. You can’t sit for more than two minutes in any location in our house and not have a cat on your lap. We’re huddling together for body warmth. It’s kind of pathetic, really. But, oh so cute.

Most evenings these days, you’ll find Jesse and me on the couches, watching some silly Christmas movie, a cat in each of our laps. I’ve usually got Oliver, and he’s usually got Gracie. (Their choice.) Jesse and I are most likely drinking hot cocoa; I’m probably bundled up in one of the fleece blankets my grandmother gave us. And though the room is a bit cold, we’re all cozy, warm, and happy.

Gracie says: Fine, if you’re not going to move off my chair, I’ll just sit on you…

Oliver practices his creepy shadow-cat routine:

When Jesse came home Friday, Oliver darted into the garage, immediately under Jesse’s car, just out of reach. He then proceeded to noisily eat every leaf he could find. (Don’t ask me.)

After we managed to get Oliver back inside, we continued on with our evening, eating leftovers for dinner and watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy! Later, Oliver cuddled up on my lap…and I smelled something funny.

The fur on his back was strangely textured. And he definitely smelled weird.

Whatever he’d gotten into in the garage was still on him. Jesse and I briefly debated what we should do: Let Oliver take care of it himself, eventually, or just bathe him right then?

Somehow, bathing won out.

Surprisingly, Oliver is very well behaved in the bathtub. For the most part, he endures it with little fanfare. Gracie, on the other hand, becomes a wild, scratching, thrashing ball of fur and claws the instant she comes near water.

When we take him to the vet, Oliver has to be muzzled. It takes the vet and at least two assistants just to give him his vaccinations. When it’s her turn for shots, Gracie huddles into a tiny ball and mews quietly.

Water? Oliver’s fine. A veterinarian? Oliver won’t go down without a fight.

The logic escapes me.

While he doesn’t dislike water the way he dislikes veterinarians, he’s still not a big fan of baths. He has since forgiven us, though he spent the rest of Friday evening cuddling with Jesse, rather than with me. Can’t say I blame him. But now he smells nice again and doesn’t have anything weird on his fur. He’s clean and sweet and cuddly once more. I must say, though, that I really do appreciate the fact that cats are self-cleaning–most of the time, anyway.

Oliver gets a fair amount of attention on this blog, mostly because he is so often trying to eat my food or jumping into punch bowls, so lest you get the impression we have only one cat, allow me to devote some time to our second kitty.

We got Gracie a couple weeks after we moved to North Carolina. (Here’s the story of how we got her.) We still call her our “baby” and “kitten,” and even though she’s just as big as Oliver now, I still think of her as being so small.

(This picture is called “Where’s Gracie?”)

Gracie has many nicknames. Gracie Girl, Goose, Gray-Bear, Basil, Little Cat, Micro-Cow (Jesse came up with that one), Little Meow, Little Beast, Lady, Furry Purry, and about a hundred others.

She’s a sweet cat with a tiny, delicate mew. (Except for random bursts of Really Loud Meowing, which she can do.) For the most part, she doesn’t steal our food or destroy our belongings. We taught Oliver and Gracie to sit on command, but Gracie usually won’t put all four paws down, so she loos like a prairie dog. Her favorite snack is lettuce. Get out a head of lettuce, and Gracie will absolutely lose her mind.

Her two favorite places to sleep are on the back of the couch and on Jesse’s office chair. In fact, if she realizes Jesse isn’t in his office chair, she’ll make a beeline to the office and curl up. If he’s working, she’ll sit on the office floor and watch him, and as soon as he gets up to go to the bathroom she takes back her chair.

Lately, he’s been working a lot on a freelance project, so she’s taken to sitting on his lap while he works. (She does this to Oliver too.)

Oliver and Gracie have always had an interesting relationship. At first, Oliver was completely scandalized that we had brought this creature into his domain. When they caught sight of each other, they’d puff up to twice their natural size. Sometimes, Gracie would go into attack mode. Sometimes, Oliver would put his foot down.

But after awhile, they came to have a great deal of affection for one another. Oliver “adopted” Gracie, making sure she was clean, cuddling with her. We all love our Gracie Girl.

8:00 a.m. Eat good breakfast with protein to give me energy for writing. Drink hot green tea, for a little caffeine and antioxidants. Get ready for the day and see Jesse off to work.

9:00 a.m. Use the Barnes & Noble gift card I found this weekend to buy zombie movies, zombie books, and a book of letters from Ginsberg and his father. (Research and inspiration, check.)

9:30 a.m. Answer work-related e-mails to make sure plate is sufficiently clear for writing.

10:00 a.m. Read blogs. (Reading and writing are so connected, you know?)

10:30 a.m. Check work e-mail again.

10:35 a.m. Get an old essay ready to send out. Write cover letters, print things, address envelopes. (Look at me, being productive and sending things out! So totally something a writer would do.)

11:00 a.m. Change Facebook profile picture. (Yeah, I’ve got nothing for this one.)

11:05 a.m. Watch the Google Freddy Mercury video. Admire its creativity.

11:10 a.m. Check work e-mail.

11:15 a.m. Open Microsoft Word and stare at blank screen.

11:20 a.m. Laugh as Gracie jumps into the office chair Oliver was sleeping in and proceeds to sit on him. Oliver is un-phased and proceeds to lick Gracie’s back. Well, how cute is that?

11:21 a.m. Take pictures of the cats.

…

And you get the point. Okay, I am going to write something as soon as I post this. Immediately! With no waiting! I mean, after I post this and put the link on Facebook and Twitter of course…and check my work e-mail one more time…

Oh, here’s some pictures of Oliver and Gracie, in case you were needing a little distraction too: