Musings on Catmus

To steal blatantly and without shame from the younger son's holiday greeting:

Ah Catmas! The day when we celebrate the rule of our supreme feline overlords (which, strangely, coincides with the day when those of a Christian bent in their holidays celebrate the day that the baby Jesus created capitalism).

Attached is an artistic representation of a mighty feline ruler, wearing a festive and seasonal headdress. The red felt top is a symbolic representation of the rivers of blood that will flow from humans who disobey their feline overlords, while the green band symbolizes the gangrene that will infect the wounds soon after. Note the peaceful expression on the overlord's divine countenance as it contemplates this punishment.

The naughty feline overlord of this household awakened us repeatedly last night. Oh what a bad boy he was. My patience fled at awakening number nine or ten and the fearsome fly swat was taken off the peg and applied to his furry bum.

"Ha!" the overlord taunted with a hiss and slashing claw, "A fly swat is as nothing to my well-padded and thickly-furred rear end! I laugh at your paltry fly swat! My old auntie resisted stronger and more adeptly wielded fly swats than that flimsy thing."

But after his macho display he did go lie down and eventually he must have gone to sleep. He's been as chirpy and sprightly as a sparrow all day. We on the other hand have dragged ourselves from our couches only with great effort and a fair amount of prodding.

All I have wanted today was to try and recover from the last few days. I swear every year that next year I will not let Christmas (or Catmus!) get the better of me. Every year I fail miserably.

But what a merry Catmus we've had. The young members of the family arrived Friday and Saturday. We have laughed and talked and cooked and eaten non-stop since. I feel like a stuffed turkey myself.

Christmas Eve we had Tex-Mex food; Enchiladas, tamales, mole negro, refried beans, Spanish rice, guacamole and tortilla chips. I ate more than I ought to have.

What was in the stockings yesterday morning but chocolate, of the most divine and compelling kind? Oh dear.

Then, at 5:00 yesterday we had the park's community Christmas dinner, which was delicious beyond belief. Even a tiny spoonful of half the dishes filled my plate (and me) to the groaning point. I was too full to even look at dessert. Today we had leftovers. I may just blow up and leave messy blobs on the walls.

God grant me the resolve to eat celery the next few days, and only celery! After we've eaten all the holiday leftovers, dieting is in order. Otherwise they'll have to cut me out of the trailer.

Right now I am soooo tired. I'd like to sleep about a week, and not cook, or eat. And Tinpalace? She threw a tantrum Christmas Eve and her water pressure went up to 80 psi again.

I am not calling Gary on Christmas Eve, but I could hardly go without water, so I am being an anti-enviromentalist and letting the sink tap in the bathroom drip. The drip is just enough to keep the psi in the system down to 65. This regulator number three in a week. Why can't she just accept that Gary's not for her and fall for the Winnebago next door?