Blair and the Cats

/

I'm sitting in the front room, which is my office, listening to Blair talk to the cats at the back of the house. He's cleaning the litterbox and apparently both cats are sitting there, watching him. He's talking in a high-pitched voice, speaking for the cats:

"Hey fella, hurry it up. I can't hold it much longer."

"Don't be stingy with that litter--I feel a big stinky coming on." 

He cracks me up. 

Any Ideas For a Funny Cat Index?

/

My editor from Ten Speed Press wrote me to say that she thought my upcoming cat humor book would benefit from having an index. Only, God love her, it's not a real index. It's a humor index, in line with the parody of the rest of the book. So index references may read:

Butt Licking, social.... 48

Butt Licking, hobby... 22

Kibbles - see NOM-NOM-NOM... 18

I love that this is how I spend my day. I spent two hours at Panera (my satellite office for those new to the blog) last week, sipping coffee and brainstorming ideas like, "Toenails as grappling hooks." Who has a better job than me? NO ONE. 

Of course, brainstorming is the fun part. Actually making something of the four pages of scribbled notes is something else. I'd say about 1 in every 8 ideas I come up with is worth keeping. The others are cliche, nonsensical, or just lame. I have no idea how long this index needs to be but I know I've still got hours and hours of work ahead of me. My goal is to have a solid, almost final draft complete before the end of the year. 

Over the holidays some of you may snuggle with loved ones, others may sip eggnog and roast chestnuts, and still others may curl up in front of the TV to watch Christmas specials. As for me, I'll be writing index jokes about dust bunnies, grasshoppers, and the evil moving red dot of light. 

HAPPY HOLIDAYS. 

SNOW! SNOW! SNOW!

/

Harris Manor, in full snow glory. Click to enlarge. As promised, yesterday at 1 PM, big, fat, white flakes started falling from the sky. By 4:30 when Blair got home, we already had several inches. The snow kept up all night and we woke to a 7-inch layer of undisturbed pristine whiteness.

Undisturbed, that is, until I insisted we go out in it. It's been at least 8 years since we've had anything resembling a decent snow around here and my little mid-western heart was going pitter-patter with excitement. Snowmen! Snowball fights! Sledding! I had to be a part of it.

Read More

Does A Runner Pee In the Woods?

/

I've been told you're not a "real" trail runner until you use the great outdoors as your toilet. I've put off becoming a member of the club for years but today, finally, nature called, and I am now an "official" trail runner. 

As my running partner Dave and I started the Wild Turkey trail this morning at 7, I was already regretting not making a quick pit stop on my way into town. Especially as I was wearing a water belt which pushed on my bladder with every move. Dave had pulled a hamstring the day before, so he started walking around mile one, and I went on. 

"Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up," I told myself with each step. "It's mind over matter. You only THINK you have to pee." 

Nope. I really had to. REALLY had to. So I ducked behind a tree and let loose. Frankly, you haven't experienced the meaning of the word "vulnerable" until you lower your pants on the side of a wooded trail and pray a stray jogger or biker doesn't come barrelling past you. 

I will say I enjoyed the second half of my run MUCH more than the first part. 

Did I mention it was 34 degrees out this morning? 

I'm glad to be a legitimate trail runner, but I still prefer a flush and hand soap, thank you very much. 

Merry Christmas.