Spring Fever

***Addendum: For the other half of this story, go visit Bea HERE***

I know - you don't have to tell me. Saturdays in the spring should be all about opening up all the windows; moving all the furniture and cleaning underneath it; washing the curtains and bedding; steam cleaning the carpets. All the things Spring Cleaning conjures up in your mind.

Yeahhhh....not so much, for me, anyway.

The weather has been doing the rollercoaster of highs and lows around here, which is pretty much the norm for the mid-atlantic. Also known as Peek-a-boo weather. When you do get that incredibly sunny and warm day and it falls on a Saturday, come on - you know you would be outside too, lounging in the sun, like a lazy cat.
Bea (pronounced Beee-Yahhh - its not really her name, btw) and I, after coddling that last cup of coffee, while basking in the morning sunshine on the patio, decided that, Jimmy Crack Corn, we didn't care, and we were going to be lazy girls Saturday. After all - there's always Sunday to be productive.

(Gasp! did I just divulge to you, dear reader, my lack of organizational, socio-religious leanings? Hmmm... good thing I don't have that many people reading this, or I might have to explain to the irate reader that a) I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't have to go to church on Sundays - Saturday, maybe; and b) my church IS outdoors, and I'm pretty sure that IS a constitutional right. But like I said; no followers, means no apologies!)

So, with a spiced rum and cran-raspberry beverage in hand, we retired to the sunniest spot of the yard, and proceeded to photo-journal our debauchery.

(Yeah, go ahead and moralize on the evils of drinking - lalalalalalalalalalala - I can't hear you! lalalalalalala! You know you're just jealous you weren't this lazy, yourself!)
Don't the rum drinks look so pretty? Isn't Bea a good sport, to let me take her picture? Can you see the responsible parental party in the background, so you'll get off of my back, already?
Admit it - even though we are dissolutes, it is a nice composition, and you know you want one!
Everyone looks better with a camera over their face! I think everyone will be wearing them soon.
Jasper (her real name, but don't think you can stalk and terrorize her - you'll be biting off Waaayyy more than you could ever expect!) poses with the daffodils - looking good for an ancient and decrepit old cat!
Pretty daffodils and an even prettier Jezebel, doing her Adventure Kitty pose for me. She just might scale the shed's wall; it could happen!
I had to take this shot - the big doof has his tongue hanging out! Nothing says Cat Humiliation like catching a picture of them with their tongue stuck - unless you're laughing in their face outright.
This is Squeak, aka Billy-Humphrey. It was supposed to be an Alice Walker reference, but instead of a girl cat we could name "Mary Agnes", like in The Color Purple, we had four boy kittens. The name Squeak had already stuck, so we had to work around it.
Scrawny Joe McAllister is doing his circuit of the back-40 (feet, that is!) - poor thing - he didn't get any fur to keep him warm. He's always trying to borrow a long fluffy tail from one of his brothers, kind of like Scarlett O' Hara, when she's bamboozling Frank Kennedy - "My hand is cold, and I left my muff at home. Can I put my hand in your pocket?" All right. Fine. So he doesn't have hands. Can't you just let this flow over you?
So, there you have it - What I Did (Or Didn't) Do On My Weekend. It's edgy, I know (hahahaha) and bound to arouse weather-envy in maybe one reader (I have what - 3?), but on a Monday, morning, the deeper reserves aren't really open to the public, and based on what Maggie was saying here, which has poked its head in here a little bit, maybe its a good thing.