Saying a prayer that each and every one of you is surrounded today by those you love most!
—Phoebe June, Smuffy and The Storyteller
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Cute Kittens
Happy National Hot Chocolate Day!
I’ll be honest. If the super bowl failed to take place, I probably wouldn’t know it until I got out and about and some grief-stricken fan informed me and even at that, I’d give it a shrug, try my best to register sympathy and concern and force myself to say, “Really? Oh, my!”
But they had better not cancel National Hot Chocolate Day! I’m into this one – big time! I can hear your shouts of “Amen!” to that. It gives us all permission to stop, smell the cocoa and just be still for a bit while we enjoy that mug (or, in my case, tankard, says Smuffy) of smooth chocolate wonderfulness.
But what about those of us who are watching the waistline or those who have come to the realization that, if we care about our health, sugar has got to go?
Celebrate with me! Follow this link to my original post entitled, “Did Someone Say Chocolate” for a healthy version of Not Apologizin’ Hot Chocolate that those of us who love that deep, dark chocolate flavor will fall in love with.
Speaking of love, within that post is a great recipe for Eat ‘Em All Chocolate Covered Strawberries – another way to indulge without the sugar and without sacrificing yummy flavor. This recipe will carry you through Valentine’s Day without the guilt.
Click on the FREE PRINTABLE banner at the bottom of the original post and you’ll be able to easily print those out to add to your recipe collection.
I’m off now to find my tankard and indulge. In case you’re a little foggy on where to begin, let me show you the ingredients that will help you get the most out of National Hot Chocolate Day –
That’s right! All you need to make your day complete:
- Cozy Chair
- Furry Throw
- One Tankard (or maybe two) Not Apologizin’ Hot Chocolate
- One Sleepy Kitten
Gather your supplies and enjoy!
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The Phoebe June Diaries: (Stolen Entry #1) “Gettin’ ‘Dopted is NICE!”
Today marks the one-year anniversary of the day Phoebe June bounced into our lives, electrifying every nook and cranny of our world. And then there’s the noise. There’s a lot of that. As I shared earlier here, it would be no surprise to discover that Phoebe June kept a diary, as she’s as full of opinions as a stage director with a headache. I thought it fitting to start with her earliest musings. Please don’t tell her I snooped. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
I played and napped in the mudroom with my sissy today. Sissy’s fun, but not as much fun as me! Mommy Blair got grouchy again when we tried to have some milk, but Joy-lady fed us at the bowl and then let us run all over the house! Sissy’s a little scared of the Christmas tree, but not me! We heard the door and that dumb dog yelling. A lady came. Sissy peeked around the corner. I bounced around it. People need fun and I’m full of the stuff. The new lady smiled and scooped up Sissy. I watched.
No time for scooping – I zoomed under the Christmas tree – the sparkly-est, rustly-est, dangly-est thing ever! Joy-lady scooped me in the middle of a zoom and put me in the new lady’s lap. She likes me! I could tell by the way she …Zzzzzz….
Then, Sissy got scooped again. She didn’t say a word. I had to do all the talking as usual. The lady talked about Sissy’s pretty eyes and my pretty nose. She talked about it a lot. She called me “brave”. I think that means I like to zoom, zoom…zzzzz…
Anyway, she kissed us and promised to come back.
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Joy-lady says it’s a special day. One of us is getting ‘dopted. Whatever that is, it’s already happened to Charlie and the others and I’m blaming the dog for it.
The nice lady came back with a man. She asked him over and over whether he liked shy Sissy’s sweet eyes or my beautiful velvet nose and my zoominess. I showed both of them what awesome cats are made of and zoomed and zoomed until I got tired and she scooped me again.
I guess getting ‘dopted means someone tucks your whole self inside their coat and makes you ride in a noise-box. I didn’t like the noise-box, but inside the coat, I felt the lady’s warm heart. She told me over and over and over that she was my new mommy. Every time I asked for Sissy and Mommy Blair, she just kept giving me more kisses. Silly thing! When the noise-box stopped, we got out and went into a new place. I got about a hundred more snuggles from my new mommy. Then, she put me down and started following me everywhere! I didn’t mind much – I had a grand explore – sniffed till my sniffer ached and told them what I thought of the place. It had a nice potty pan, some tasty food, feathery toys and about a million hidey-holes.
I checked for bedbugs and took a bath and then explored some more till my zoomer was all zoomed out. The lady put me in the man’s lap. I was all ready for a nice nap until he started barking.
The lady called him “Daddy” and said he had a nasty cough, but I know a bark when I hear one. It took me twenty minutes to settle my tail hairs down.
I may have a brain the size of a walnut, but I know a thing or two and this new mommy’s got what it takes! Her food is yummy, her robe is furry, she plays games and toys like a pro and I’m starting to get used to all the kissing. If she would only stop interrupting me when I’m talking! She calls me Phoebe June and I think I’ll let her ‘cause it sounds just right.
Each time I woke in the nighttime, all I had to do was reach up and pat my new mommy’s cheek and tell her about how I felt lost and how I couldn’t find Sissy or Mommy Blair. She’d snuzzle me close and promise to take care of me and be my Forever Mommy. When her eyes got all drippy, I knew she meant it.
I didn’t know how much I needed Phoebe June until I got her. She lives life large, intent on letting us know that she is a mighty huntress, has no intention of being left alone and would prefer that we pay close attention to her running commentary. Phoebe has two settings: “Park” and “Autobahn”. Smuffy and I are learning to live with her effusiveness and the high-speed zooming. It’s a little like having an emotionally needy child who is always following you everywhere, asking what you are doing now, insisting that you play games and that you sit down and pay attention to the umpteenth “show and tell” presentation – especially the “telling”.
I’ll have to be careful about it, but I’ll try to sneak another page of her diary and share it with you soon.
You can get better acquainted with Phoebe June here and find out how Smuffy lost his marbles here. In case you’re considering adopting a kitten, you might want to check out “Top Ten Things You’ll Reconsider Once You’ve Become a Kitten Mom.”
Phoebe June’s Big Day!
On October 10, 2017, a kindle of kittens arrived, filling the mud room of the country home with tiny mews, squeaks and squirms. We didn’t have a clue.
Not until almost two months later did Smuffy hand me a gift bag for our anniversary. It contained, mysteriously, a can of kitten food. Since we had no cat and hadn’t had one for a decade, I stared at Smuffy, speechless.
“You don’t want a cat,” I finally managed to utter after he asked me if I intended to say anything.
“But you do,” he smiled. “And life is short, and I’m ready, and you need to get a kitty. That is, if you want one.”
I lapsed into another stunned silence for a bit and then a conversation started that lasted for the rest of the day. Here we are enjoying our anniversary dinner and still talking about it.
My main concern was that Smuffy might not be ready to become a kitty-daddy – heart and soul, that is. The last thing I wanted was to end up in a situation where he put up with a cat around the house for my sake while secretly hating every minute of it.
Once he assured me that he’d been thinking about it for months and was fully ready to commit, I got downright giddy at the thought. Since December isn’t really the season around here for “please, please, pleeeeeease take one of these kittens off my hands”, my word of mouth efforts yielded no leads.
I made a bold move and tried social media, hoping that I wouldn’t be swamped with 150 offers to wade through as I tried to make a decision.
Oddly, just one prospect appeared who had two kittens ready for a home. They both happened to be females, which I wanted, and the photos were adorable. On December 7th, a mere five days after Smuffy lost his marbles and made the offer, we adopted Phoebe June and it’s been nothing but fun, games and squirt-bottle discipline around here ever since.
And Smuffy, you ask? His heart melted and within the first week she’d become his little “Junebug”. When it comes to kitty discipline, he dreads nothing more than having to be the bad guy. Let’s just call him Mr. Marshamallow.
As for myself, I didn’t know how much I needed Phoebe June until I got her. We romp and play as though she’s four weeks old and I’m four years old. Well, I haven’t dressed her up in doll clothes or anything, but I’ve come pretty close. I determined to keep her from being fearful of every little thing by harness “training” (and I use that word loosely because, she is, after all, a cat) her and taking her everywhere. Now, she’s a social butterfly and is not neurotic, but everybody thinks I am!
We’re celebrating around here today with a couple of extra toys from the dollar store, some “big girl” food and a trip to the vet to weigh in. You might think the latter would be enough to ruin a birthday for most cats, but Phoebe takes the kitty doctor in stride, along with her trips to see Amy Egglady, window shopping or popping in to see friends.
Happy 1st Birthday, Phoebe June! You’ve come a long way from the little powder puff nestled in the palm of my hand.
Cat years are calculated differently than dog years. It proceeds faster at first and then slows down to a ratio of Human: 1 = Cat: 3. Right now, Phoebe is supposed to be the equivalent of a twelve-year-old. We might just be moving into more exciting times. Hmmm…
I keep this Shakespearean quote above Phoebe’s playhouse –
As you can see, it suited her from the start. Born to leap, Phoebe June flies through the air with the greatest of ease all without the need for a trapeze. Add to that the fact that she is emotionally clingy, loudmouthed and opinionated and you’ll have but a mere hint as to how our “empty nest” household has changed.
In fact, Phoebe June talks non-stop! It should have been no surprise to discover that she’s been keeping a diary. I’ll be sharing some of her thoughts and experiences with you whenever I can manage to sneak a peek without getting caught.
I’d love to hear from you, so leave a comment!
Coming up Next: I’m finally getting around to those hearty fall recipes I promised. You’ll get FREE PRINTABLES, too!