Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

“Everything all right in here?”  Tinkletoes asks calling just inside the doorway. Writer Lady turns to look at him, “Everything is fine” she answers and turns back smiling at Mural Man and House. Tinkletoes looks in the same direction.   “Hi” he says looking at Mural Man. “Hi.”  Mural Man says pulling back from House.  He steps to her side and holds her close. “Making up for lost time, huh? How long were you gone?   Ten minutes?” Tinkletoes asks. “About that.”  Mural Man answers. “Good to see you back.” “It's good to be back.”  Mural Man answers looking at House. “Can I have a word with you?”  Tinkletoes asks looking at Writer Lady.  She joins Tinkletoes in the laundry room.  “Are you okay?”  He asks. “Yeah.  Why wouldn't I be?” “I heard you talking about dead husbands, jealousy, Mural Man, there might have been something about Monitor Man being the man of your dreams.” “How did you hear that?  You were supposed to be fixing the sink.”

“What was that?”  Writer Lady asks. “I don't know.”  He answers.   Tinkletoes turns to Carp.    “Did you say something?” “No.” Both kittens are climbing on Carp and the assassin is scratching chins and rubbing ears.  There is a smile of contentment on his face.  The “No” startles Smudge who slinks away.  Spots jumps off of Carp's boot and lays down on the floor showing his belly. “That's no way to train soldiers Carp.” “You gave me kittens to train not people.  Kittens.” Writer Lady turns to watch Carp as well.  “A kitten showing its belly is a sign of trust.  It could be seen as submissive behavior.”  She says turning back to more immediate problems. “Carry on Training Officer.”  Tinkletoes commands with a nod. Carp does not respond.  The kittens are chasing his hand. “Why don't you do that lady stuff with her?”  Tinkletoes asks. “Lady stuff.  Do you mean girl talk?” “Yeah that.” “Go away.”   Writer Lady says. Tinkletoe

Tinkletoes stops just outside the entry to the living room.  “Things are kind of cramped in here so follow my footsteps exactly or you may step on something.” “Okay.”   Writer Lady whispers. They start shuffling into the room.   Writer Lady matching Tinkletoes' movements shuffle for shuffle. “Um...” She says as she touches Tinkletoes lightly on the arm. “Yeah?” “Shouldn't you use the flashlight to check the floor?  That way we'll know where everyone is and we won't step on them.” “No.  I was just in here.  I remember where everything and everyone is.   I'm a mercenary.  Mercenaries have sharp eyes and keen memories.” “You're holding a flashlight, shouldn't you use it?  It will help prevent an accident.” Tinkletoes turns around to face Writer Lady pointing to himself he says, “Mercenary.  Sharp eyes.  Keen memory.  I've got this.”   He turns and walks this time with the confident gait of a well trained soldier, slipping in

I am a Storyteller.  This is my purpose.  To communicate to my fellow humans that they are not alone.  Helping the human race to re-discover the things that lightens ones load [not loosens because that would be a laxative] with amazing stories, tall tales, the magic in everyday things, and the humor in us all. [Looks around for humor, stands up, checks seat, looks under both feet, sniffs at pits]  It looks like I lost mine, this is awkward. Find out what you love and what the world needs then combine them. I love writing.   What does the world need?  The world needs to laugh. I have been telling tall tales since I was potty trained, writing since I was a teenager (usually long sweeping monologues of tragedy that only a young girl can communicate or writing myself into my favorite television shows).  Eventually I started creating some things that were more solid: a humorous blog, a children's book, a cozy mystery with a few laughs.  When I found myself without a jo

“My turn?” House asks. “There's nothing wrong with me.” She says. “I would have to agree. House is beautiful.” Mural Man says. “Oh Mur...” House purrs. “People say I wrote fluff.” Carp mutters. “Dr. TP can you check Mural Man's brain. There might be a head injury that's causing this behavior.” “No.” Dr. TP says. “The brain injury you are suggesting would create a distinct crinkling to his surface. It is House that has...um...how should I put this? Issues .” “Issues? What issues.” House says. “Not enough respect.” Dr. TP says. “You don't show Paper Man.” “Mural Man.” Carp, House, and Mural Man say, correcting the faerie in unison. “Mural Man.” Dr. TP says, not acknowledging his error. “The same respect he shows you, you do not show him. You are selfish, demanding, and most bossy .” “I am not!” House yells. “Am I? AM I?” She demands looking at Mural Man. “If I was you would say something. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't

  **Be sure to read this post fully before letting a child read it.  Everyone has their own definition of what appropriate reading for a child is and has a right to rule things out as inappropriate at their own discretion.**   Butt Disclaimer: As a writer I have a connection with the characters I create.  When they are hurting I want to help them.  Initially, I was not in support of the subject matter in tonight's blog.  House was adamant.  Mural Man's backside is especially near and dear to her heart.   Although I have no interest in having another incident like the diarrhea saga from earlier this year I cannot ignore the worries of a house in love and her concerns for the safety and health of her beloved.  I agreed grudgingly that we need to get to the bottom of things and see that the issue is nipped in the butt.  Hopefully this part of the story can be finished quickly so that we don't get too far behind.    “It'

“Dude.  You've got a marshmallow fire truck on your nose.   Now it's stuck to your butt.”  Ray's voice can be heard in the hallway. Dobby and Tinkletoes enter the living room to find Carp waiting for them. “Are you sure that you want to keep this plan in place?”  Carp asks Tinkletoes.  “I have been watching the kittens and they are pretty wound up.” Spots slides past the kitchen's entry with a cellophane wrapped toy in his mouth.  Ray follows close behind.  “Dude.  That's the toy surprise, whoever opens the box gets that.  I opened the box.”   Spots gains his footing and picks up speed running away from Ray.  Ray runs past the entry, he loses his balance sliding into the refrigerator door.  Spots stops, returning to Ray without the toy.  He sniffs at Ray for a minute.  The kitten looks at Ray, looks at the refrigerator door, looks back at Ray.  The kitten shakes his head and leaves.   The open box of cereal falls fr

“Now that your mom is occupied, let's have some fun.”   Where'd those kittens go?”  Tinkletoes asks Dobby taking a step away from the door. There is a Whoosh and then another Whoosh is heard.  Tinkletoes suddenly feels more weight on top of his combat boots.  He looks down to see two pairs of eyes looking up at him expectantly.   The eyes are wide and radiate intense, unbridled energy.  “They have a quick response time.  That's good.   Now it's time to teach them how to follow orders.”  Tinkletoes says smiling. “Good luck with that.”  Dobby says. Spots watches Tinkletoes, then Dobby, then Tinkletoes throughout the exchange.  The kitten's pupils dilate and his body tenses.  Spots jumps, hugging Tinkletoes around his leg and climbs.  The kitten doesn't stop climbing until he is perched on Tinkletoes' shoulder and surveying all that he deems his.   Tinkletoes turns and looking at Spots the self-proclaimed mercenary says, “Don't

  “I look awful.”  Writer Lady says looking into the bathroom mirror.   “No you don't Mom.”  Dobby says.  The ginger tabby is sitting in the doorway watching as she goes through her daily grooming routine.   “Ray?  Hey man, I was wondering where you were today.”   Tinkletoes says making his way to the open doorway.   Realizing his mistake he pales at Writer Lady's saddened expression.    “I didn't mean it.”  He says.   Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.   “Yes you did.”  She looks at herself more closely in the mirror.  “You're right.  I have the same bags under my eyes, the same tired expression, the same dry, frizzy, blonde hair.   I'm turning into Ray.”  She turns back to the mirror, then looks back at Tinkletoes, tears welling in her eyes.  “I'm turning into Ray.”   Dobby crosses the distance and rubs against her ankles.  “It's okay.  You're just tired Mom.”   Writer Lady reaches down and scoops up the cat.   “It&