It’s time for cattails!
Ted and I don’t want anyone to be drinking alone, so if you find yourself in that situation over the weekend, please pull up this photo and we’ll drink right along with you. I’d even put my head in your drink if you need me to (and yes, this is a ritual that Mr. Bear and I do extremely often. Way too often. But what can I say? He’s my bebe – that, and I’m a cray cray cat lady).
No one likes to drink alone.
Cheers to a fabulous weekend!
CBXB
Disclaimer: I unabashedly claim the title as Nashville’s craziest cat lady, so when you read the next sentence, you shouldn’t be shocked.
This past weekend called for a celebration as the fur ball love of my life Teddy Bear and I celebrated our five-year anniversary (yes, not only do I cry in cat cemeteries, wear cray cray cat lady lingerie, and nurse broken cat hearts back to life, I also celebrate our milestones together. Judge away).
Ah, five years of bliss (for me…Ted might have another phrase running through his mind…)
We prepped Friday evening by lying low with wine and salad.
Friday fun.
And Bear was not amused when I was filling him in on all of the upcoming party shenanigans I had in store for him the following evening.
Being the life of the party is hard work.
I awoke Saturday to a familiar barnyard sound. When I groggily got up to peer out the window, I was pretty sure I was dreaming because what to my wondering eyes did appear but a rooster, cock-a-doodling with a chicken in hot pursuit. WTF?
Just sauntering through the backyard. Wonder if they were headed to Target?
After assuring Ted that chickens don’t make good food (he’s allergic to all chicken products – for real) as he was practically foaming at the mouth, I diverted his attention with party balloons.
What rooster?
Party time!
Once our guests arrived, we were sure to let no one go thirsty.
Being that this was little M’s first party, we couldn’t let her go without a bottle now, could we?
A major party foul occurred just as I was about to take a sip out of my first cocktail. Two young, obviously frightened deer sprinted down my driveway and into the brush. What would force sweet deer down a noisy party driveway? Thirteen year old boys chasing them down the street, that’s who. Well, not on my watch…I marched out to the street to speak with the little hood rats and promptly forgot what attire I was in while scolding the boys. They took me oh-so-seriously. Wouldn’t you?
Nobody Fs with Bambi in my neighborhood!
Our resident boy scout was able to keep a fire going, even though I only provided him with rain-soaked wood.
Impressive.
Even with the fire, this party goer almost got thrown out for lack of style…
If there’s anything I hate as much as Crocs, it’s socks with sandals. FAIL!
When it was time to head inside and celebrate with cake, I found this on my couch.
Every party has a pooper…Gpa can hardly stand the excitement of the anniversary soiree.
Ted’s Gma prepared his (well, maybe my) favorite treats – yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
Kit cat topped cupcake.
And while Ted refused to get up off of his bed, he was more than willing to take a couple licks of cake.
Cupcake a deux.
TB could hardly keep his eyes open after his sugar rush but the party wore on (for a few of us anyway).
What party is complete without white whiskey?
An early Mother’s Day cocktail…
Lead to …well, we’re not sure.
Although my mother thought it would be hysterical to accidentally lock me out of my own mini manse while I was out picking up the party trash (real garbage, not actual people in this case). But the joke was really on her because I know how to tear off a screen from a window (she raised such a smarty pants).
This blonde does have a brain!
Graceful….not a word much associated with yours truly.
And while my mom and I carried on the celebrating the next day over a Mexican Mother’s Day lunch, Teddy was in deep recovery from being the star of the show.
Party pooped!
How long do you think Ted will make me pay for this weekend?
CBXB
I woke up early this morning to work out before heading into the office. The second I turned my lamp on and laid back down to check messages for a second (and was actually reading an email from a fellow blogger – the hilarious Jell-Jell from I’ll Sleep When Their Grown), Teddy came running into the room like a cheetah, announced his presence roaring like a lion, pounced on my bed like a panther and promptly claimed territory in the nook of my arm.
Cat in one hand, camera over my head in the other. Certified CRAY CRAY CAT LADY.
Typically Ted has to be carried to bed (he doesn’t like his paws to touch the ground), so I was immediately suspicious of what he’d done while I was fast asleep.
Guilty of something my furry friend?
Then I realized he wanted to admire himself in the nearest mirror like the Wicked Queen in ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,’ (I don’t know where he gets it), which is why he waited until the light was on to get in bed with me.
Mirror Mirror on the Wall, who’s the prettiest of them all? (I can assure you it wasn’t me at the ass crack of dawn this morning).
I tried putting a pillow over my head to go back to sleep with the shining light on, as I was up an hour and a half before I needed to be – and couldn’t go back to sleep because I felt guilty that I wasn’t working off the wine from last night. I tried to move just so in the hopes that it would piss Teddy off and he’d leap from the bed. All the wiggling just made him nestle in more.
Going somewhere?
I stayed put until our ‘normal’ time to get out of bed came around.
That wine sure looks good on my hips, Ted.
CBXB
In deep recovery from a food coma, here’s a peek at my Nashville Thanksgiving weekend shenanigans.
Ted all snuggled up in the front seat, on the way to Grandma’s house he goes!
It’s a framer! Here’s a picture of the fam as we decided to get out and enjoy the 65 degree day before overindulging. Note to self – don’t ask anyone over 70 to take a picture with an iPhone (they will put it up to their eye and ask where to click).
My view of our leisurely Turkey Day walk. (Yes the 80-year-old was bare-chested. No, it was not in the least bit attractive but of course I still had to take a picture). This image made us practically sprint to finish.
Our foursome wished we had something to quench our thirst after all that walking.
Pre-turkey tasties (my family masters the art of snacking). Healthy treats (unless you eat a half-dozen of my mom’s deviled eggs. Damn it!).
The man who acted like he cooked everything until Mom pointed out that turkey and potatoes were only two of the 12 things being served. King of Dramatization.
Instead of playing the old game “Where’s Waldo,” we got to play “Where’s Teddy” all weekend due to his need of escaping out every crevice and sending me on an endless wild goose chase. Here’s what I found lurking in the garage. The little shit.
Turkey Day halftime entertainment. Me and my boy, Kid Rock.
People watching at Target, 10pm Thanksgiving night. Around 800 people were in line to check out. MADNESS.
This ended up being all the Black Friday I could handle. Elvis, the owl eyed cat on the right celebrated his one year anniversary with my family. We rescued him last Thanksgiving, as he came up to the back door and begged for turkey (he fits right in, with his love of food).
Ever the cat to lend a helping paw, Teddy project managed the holiday decorating process of one of my parent’s ledges.
Make any holiday memories of your own this past weekend? Submit them by this Wednesday to win the CBXB’s giveaway. A pink sparkly deer head – it will go perfectly over your toilet and make for all kinds of fun conversation, I promise.
Click here for details on how to win your very own pink deer head….I mean, who doesn’t want one?!
Happy Holiday Seasoning!
CBXB
WARNING: If you hate people who dress their pets up, stop reading. Right. Now.
With the establishment of my cray cray cat lady persona, it’s safe to say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in my family. My sister is just as loco over her pooch, Gunner as I am over my fur ball of a baby.
And being the crazies that we are, of course our four legged family members end up in costumes for Halloween. Sometimes even matching costumes (I mean, they are cousins after all).
There are, however, slight differences in trying put an outfit on a sweet dog like Gunner vs. a bitchy cat like Teddy (the first being that I’m the only lunatic I know who puts her freaking cat in an costume, but I digress).
Dogs like Gunner will humor you…
Patiently waiting for the limelight.
Cats think you’re an f’ing idiot for even trying to embarrass them in such horror.
Ted conducted a complete investigation at first sight of the unknown object in the living room.
Dogs like Gunner adore their altered look so much, they’ll dine in it…
Cats will act like the felted material is the heaviest thing they’ve ever encountered on their back and sit paralyzed (mostly to spite you).
Teddy…wishing he could put his stinger to use.
Dogs like Gunner stand and proudly pose for pictures…
Picture snapped in between happy tail wags.
Cats, especially Teddy, would be giving you the middle finger, if possible.
F YOU MOM.
Dogs like Gunner enjoy their new found accessories so much, they often forget to de-costume before bed.
Cats can’t wait to claw your eyes out once they get this God awful attire off right this second.
After our dramatically different photo shoots, it’s safe to say Ted’s outfit will be going to a Halloween graveyard (which is OK because I got it for $5 – sigh of relief) and Gunner will be wearing his until Christmas. Maybe costumes are best left to the human race…but what fun would that be for my sister and me?
Our parents are so proud.
CBXB
