Treatise on the Proper Use of Links

Apparently, there are many lovely people on our beloved Blogger who do not understand the rather intuitive etiquette rules involving links. I do hereby dedicate this posting to those misguided souls.

Rule #1: Thou shalt not include more than one link to the same webpage in but a single posting.

Rule #2: Thou shalt not include a link to the blog to which one is posting. Should the reader desire to peruse the rest of the blog, he/she undoubtedly knows how to use the handy navigational features provided by the god-like host of the blog; in the event that one's reader is not endowed with such knowledge, he/she does not deserve to read further.

Rule #3: Thou shalt not include irrelevant or random links. Links must be necessary or reasonably useful to one's reader.

Rule #4: Thou shalt not include a link to a comment on another blog posting when one has already included a link to that particular posting. Individual postings include all comments. This is a variant of the principle expounded in Rule #1.

Now, lovely reader, you may go forth and blog properly.

Not all acts of housekeeping are inspired by cats

My wily little academic cat asserts that "cats are a force that give us meaning." As your humble narrator is quite an admirer of felines, she most certainly does not dispute this. Cats are independent, intelligent, lovely, and god-like creatures. Dogs, with all their loyalty, slobbering, etc., may make excellent automatons for police work but are hardly proper companions for humans. That being said, it should be noted that cats are not the only force that give us meaning. For example, your humble narrator existed for several years without a feline companion but, despite Gergiev's wild assertions, discovered other reasons for maintaining a clean and proper abode. Though a sweet-tempered feline may offer invaluable companionship and entertainment, humans do not derive their entire existence from even the most admirable of pets.

Tricksy little cat

Your humble narrator awoke this morning to discover cat asleep upon her hair. Went into office and discovered favorite clock had been removed from desk to floor apparently effected by crash landing. The stately Gergiev may soon discover unexplained disappearance of her beloved Friskies canned cat food.

lazy Sunday afternoon with cat

After a whirlwind trip to Texas and the passing of two suns with but little sleep and coffee, your humble narrator hast apparently reached near exhaustion and didst therefore spend afternoon sleeping and watching film with lonely cat Gergiev, who did not venture to the faraway land of Fort Worth but remained at home to guard sacred cat shrine.

boring Friday report

Gergiev's jungle continues to blossom. Two peruvian daffodils bloomed this week and African violet plant is now blooming once again, perhaps due to excessive cat-fur fertilization treatment given to it by my crafty feline.

I now suspect my little cat of having a bona fide sweet tooth. She seems to crave fruit in addition to chocolate. Still tries to eat my strawberry yogurt. Took a flying leap in a failed attempt to attack my fig newton last week. Begged most pitifully for a bite of pear yesterday . . . you would have thought the poor cat was starving the way she meowed and pawed at me. And to think that all this time, I thought cats only liked fish. But perhaps little Gergie is simply an anomalous gourmand amid the vast circles of her more carnivorous fellow felines.

Gergiev makes artistic appearance

So last night, I went to an art show at a friend's house. One exhibit, entitled "Lesser Homes and Gardens" and featuring saran wrap and dirty kitchen, included numerous typed passages fastened to the aforementioned plastic wrap. One passage read: "Gergiev wuz here." Very mysterious. Perhaps my little cat is part of an enormous conspiracy to create art.

Monday

I awoke from my slumbers this morning with a cat on my pillow, sleeping contentedly upon my hair. I mean, it's cute to have a cat who does adorable tricks, but really, there was a whole nice empty pillow right next to mine that she could have had all to herself. Then I wouldn't have had to extricate my hair from under her paws before rolling over to better ignore my shrieking alarm clark.

Meanwhile, Gergiev's jungle continues to grow. My white peruvian daffodil opened up yesterday and is quite lovely and sufficiently exotic. Soon the plants may take over the entire window ledge in the office, leaving no room for my little jungle cat to sit next to them.

Of catnip and cats

So the indomitable Gergiev went to visit her cousin Domino this weekend only to discover that the tuxedo-colored feline cowered in terror beneath the bed of her human companions. Apparently the sight of my stately cat was quite traumatic for the lesser Domino, who displayed her feelings of threatened supremacy through extensive growling and hissing throughout the long weekend. The ever stately Gergiev responded with a calm stoicism that would have made Seneca proud.

While the felines had their standoff inside, I worked out of doors gardening in clownish outfit of extraordinarily baggy sweatshirt and most unflattering black leggings paired with the whitest of socks due to unseasonably cool morning weather and my failure to bring a travel wardrobe of clothing more substantial than the tank top and little tennis skirt. But during said gardening adventure, the spurned catnip plant of Gergiev got re-potted in nice large copper planter and surrounded with lovely smooth stones. So now its growth, previously hindered by its most small receptacle, may now proceed to the monstrous proportions desired by my fickle little cat.

Meanwhile back at the quaint abode of Jeni and Gergiev, Seymour has been growing rapidly and my white peruvian daffodil, virtually dormant but a fortnight ago, has put out a bud and shows every sign of opening forthwith. And surely a peruvian daffodil shall be quite exotic, much like the beloved bear Paddington, also from Darkest Peru.

Mystery plant magically appears

Upon venturing from my apartment today, I discovered that someone apparently deposited a potted plant upon my vehicle under the vast cover of night. Deciding to rescue the mysterious plant rather than leaving it to rot upon the ground and potentially incurring the wrath of the Great Plant, I took it in to keep company with monster catnip plant (which shall soon be replanted in larger pot in order to accomodate its furious growth), rosemary plant, and violet plant. Gergiev has officially adopted the mystery plant and christened it Seymour.

So now I have many plants but only one cat. If I get too many plants, I might be forced to adopt another feline for balance. Hopefully, no more plants will appear ex nihilo so that the stately Gergie may keep her undisputed reign over the apartment.

Piano malfunction

Today, I discovered that one of my piano keys is no longer functioning properly. I suspect that my mischievous feline may have contributed to its demise while playing furiously during the wild debaucheries chronicled in the blog entitled Gergiev's House Party. The cat and I may need to have a little talk about proper apartment behavior while I am away.

The horrors of life with a feline insomniac

For some unknown reason, my wily little cat decided to stay up all night long. (Perhaps she was busy plotting some devious new scheme for feline domination.) So then she comes to bed at 7:30 a.m. and decides she wants attention, coming up and meowing in my face, awakening me to ensure that I drifted back off to sleep only minutes before my alarm went off. And of course, since she did not go to bed until this morning, she refused to get up to have coffee with me, leaving me alone with only the works of Mr. James Fenimore Cooper for company.