They were shooting me looks of pity, as if they felt bad there wasn’t room in the car for me to come too. (There really wasn’t – it’s a working weekend, so the car was stuffed full of all the tournament gear, and our son may actually have to hold the laptop on his lap for the 2 something hours it takes to get to Orlando. He said he’s cool with that, as long as he could bring it.)

I was trying not to look as excited at the idea of something like 100 hours of peace and solitude as I was truly feeling.

Hello, alone time. Where have you been? Did you miss me as much as I missed you?

*One of the 4 legged creatures is a beast so fierce that he doesn’t need his 98lbs of muscle and mouth full of sharp, shiny teeth to get his message across. But he’s not afraid to use them. Just sayin’.

Wasteland: The Wanderer by Crystal Jordan

Love is the most dangerous experiment of all.

There is only one rule in the Wasteland: survive.

The few remaining women are as reviled as they are worshiped, a commodity any man must pay to touch. And to touch a Wanderer, he may pay with his life.

For Ezra, the risk is worth the reward. People speak his name with the same reverent terror reserved for ancient wrathful gods, but he must always be ready to fend off those who would take what’s his. And what he wants to be his is Kadira.

Kadira, adopted after she witnessed the slaughter of her devoted parents, has vowed never to love or need anyone. It seems only fitting that she, an outsider, accept Ezra’s demand in trade for the fuel technology her clan needs—but her deep, unexpected need for him is the torture she’s fought all her life to avoid. Worse, the greater her wrath, the more he seems to like it.

Ezra’s mercenary half delights at having the warrior woman in his arms. His scientist half can’t resist the urge to see what makes her react—and what makes her explode.

The real experiment: if the bond they forge is strong enough to make her want to stay.

Warning: Threesomes, foursomes, boy on boy, girl on girl, boy on boy on girl, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sex at knifepoint, anal sex, ritual orgies, and, well…it’s just a really dirty book.

Buy it here!

As baseball analogies go that one pretty much sucks.

Anyway.  I’m here.  I’ve got the love of my family and friends, I’m healthy, and I’m doing everything I can to keep my family healthy as well.  And I realize that sometimes the really crappy surprises life springs takes me down a path that I never would have gone down on my own.  I just hope that this particular path smooths out a bit as I get further down it, because the first few steps haven’t been a picnic.

But then there was also this, and my day suddenly seemed a little bit warmer.

See?

Hello, Vancouver. How’s the weather going to be for the opening ceremonies?

The kids and I have been watching Leverage on Netflix the past few weeks. We’re almost caught up to the “now showing” – oh no!

(This post made to test the new Android WordPress app. I like.)

Random pic to test image adding -

So 17 degrees below freezing? (I’m working in the Fahrenheit world here, you Swedish lurkers – Hej!) That just doesn’t happen in my world.

Which is probably why I found this short video of “17 Below and 1 Cup of Boiling Water” entirely too entertaining.

Entertaining enough to still be cool after three or four views, at least.

Stay warm!

Hello, new friend.

Almost two years ago, we adopted a kitten.  Tiger was a ten week old baby when we got him, who’d lived all of his short life under a beach cottage porch with the feral colony he’d been born a part of.

He adjusted to the life of an indoor kitty well.  Mostly he’s content with his pampered housecat life, where he spends his days napping on the couch and his nights snoozing at the foot of my daughter’s bed.  Occasionally he makes a break for the outdoors, once getting all the way to the back bushes – about 30 feet from the door – before huddling into a pitiful ball of confusion and waiting to be rescued.  He endures the occasional cuddle, and plays with the dog or anyone who will roll a golf ball for him.

But he’s still only a step out of the streets, and that left its mark.  A cuddly lapcat he is not.

A few months ago, my sis started talking cats to me.  Let me be more clear.  She started linking cats to me.  Her heart will always have a tender spot where her memories of Sultan are, but she has a very big heart.  Big enough for Layla.  Which is it’s own special story, one you should read.

Of course the linking of one cat let to the linking of more cats.  And soon I realized I was checking the cats looking for homes with way more interest than someone that didn’t plan on getting more cats ever should.

Then just before Christmas, I mentioned this new interest of mine to my husband.  As expected, he wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic.  But once the seed was planted in the dark of his mind, it sprouted life of its own.

And soon after Christmas, he went from “No” to “Why didn’t you bring home a cat yet?”

Bringing a new cat into a house that already has other pets, and 2 children, has its own challenges.  Nothing like what my sister has had with her Bengal rescue, but there were things to think about.  We really wanted a cat, not a kitten.  Kittens generally find homes fairly quickly; adult cats are as likely to end up at the shelter as they are to find a new home.  And we wanted a lapcat.  A snuggly cat that would appreciate my daughter’s attempts to cuddle, not just tolerate them.

Thanks to the warmhearted, caring people at Adopt a Rescue Kitty ( AARK ) we found all that, and more.

Meet Aragon.  Or Eragon.  Or Earagon.  Or Argone.  All different ways his name was spelled on the various bits of paperwork that came with him. Poor guy, no wonder he’s so confused looking.  Ten months old, and no one has figured out how to spell his name yet.  (The first one is a community in Spain, and was a kingdom in the Iberian Peninsula.  The second is a dragon in a pretty well-known book.  I don’t even know where the other spellings came from.)

He’s a sweetie. A cuddle kitty.  A heart stealer.  And quite a camera hog.  Every time I pull the Kodak (or the Pentax or the camera phone) out, he walks right up and sticks his face in it.

But how can you get upset, when he purrs and rubs his chin against you right after?