(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Finally, the recognition that I deserve.

– Ethel

ethel_p&g-letter


Dear Ethel,

Hello. My name is Lou and I work for a company called Procter & Gamble. I found you through your sister Carol’s delightful blog! Continue reading

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Walter-10_profileHello. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Carol’s brother, Walter. For this Wordless Wednesday guest blog post I thought inviting my sister, Violet, to participate with me would be nice. She’s old and quiet and seems wise. I find her stillness comforting. (Especially in THIS house!) We don’t interact often, but I feel a connection to Violet.

violet-on-bed-with-pillows

My idea was to have Violet interview me. When I visited her room to offer her this opportunity, she was sleeping. She sleeps a lot. I waited patiently for her to awaken. And waited, and waited, and waited. When she finally awoke, Continue reading

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Sherman-01_profileHello, this is The General. Carol reported to me that many of you are asking for updates on the status of my request for the Joint Chiefs of the Household Headquarters to relocate my troop basket.

After a surprisingly brief discussion on the sofa, while also knitting and watching a true-crime HBO documentary, the Joint Chiefs made a decision. Citing the tendency of the troops to spill out of their basket and clog up the entry way, Little Mom suggested moving them to a more “out of the way” location. Out of the way?! Frankly, I find such callous disregard for my soldiers’ contributions offensive!

Then, LOUD Mom had the audacity to suggest they sort through my troops and GET RID OF the ones I don’t use!!! Continue reading

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Sequoia-02_profile-circleSteve MUST go. He’s a no-good, two-timing, double-crossing miscreant. I knew it the day I met him. I saw right through him and his “dumb” act. He may have everyone else snowed – especially Carol – but I KNOW. I’m onto him. And his stealing MY commercial right out from under me is the last straw. 

ethel-letter-prozac

Ever since the letter from Eli Lilly came wanting to use him [and NOT me!] in their advertisements, he’s been strutting around the house making everyone poke his abs to see how hard they are. Flaunting his treachery without even a hint of shame. How dare he! Continue reading

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Sherman-01_profileHello, this is The General. After playing with the idea of starting my own blog, I decided to stick with guest writing on Carol’s. Seeing how much time Carol devotes to maintaining her blog, I’m afraid a blog of my own would take too much time away from raiding the toy basket and gnawing on chewies. And now that summer’s almost here, I hope to spend more time outside.

Speaking of being outside, Eggnog recently asked me to help her unearth clothes from years past that she’d buried in the backyard. How that five-pound ball of fur buried all of those outfits by herself is beyond me – it must have taken her forever. Thanks to my upper body strength [Steve’s got nothing on me with his pathetic abs], I was able to dig up Eggnog’s clothes in no time. It was refreshing to have someone appreciate my digging skills.

Living in a house with a mom who is an archaeologist, one would expect that a digging dog would be a welcome addition. Maybe even a source of pride. Continue reading

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday

Walter-10_profileHello. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Carol’s brother, Walter. I would like to use my turn on Wordless Wednesday to discuss a concept that I think has been lost in our fast-paced, “me, me, me,” “now, now, now” culture: Delayed Gratification.

For the impulsive among you, delayed gratification is the ability to resist a reward in the immediate in exchange for a future reward. The future reward may be greater than the immediate reward, but not necessarily. Personally, I find that, often, the reward lies in the wait.

Cats are notoriously terrible at delaying gratification.

As an example, every night when I “go to my house” to sleep, my moms give me a biscuit smothered with peanut butter. Rather than attack that biscuit with a vengeance, as my gluttonous brother Sherman does, I let the biscuit sit. All night I keep an eye on that biscuit. Taking a page out of Buddhist philosophy, Continue reading