“Life is a journey, not a destination.” Ralph Waldo Emerson.
This week it’s raining cats at our house. Besides having a stray cat adopt us and become our “outdoor” boy, I also had to take one of our indoor boys, Simba, a 20-lb Maine Coon, to the vet.
Considering he hasn’t been out of the house in years (Simba, not the vet), it went pretty well. I did say “considering,” right?
I nonchalantly put the cat carrier on the bed next to Simba and then, like the Flash, snatched him up and shoved him in said crate before he could put up a fight. He hissed going in and then instantly learned how to meow. (Really, he doesn’t meow–he whines when he wants something). Read more
I’ve never ridden a motorcycle in my life. Never even been on one. So when my hubby recently suggested we take a motorcycle class, I had no frame of reference. I didn’t even know he’d owned one when he was younger and living in Southern California. I’m not sure what prompted his sudden need for speed, but we talked about it and decided to take the two-day safety course to see if we could pass the test (back in his early riding days there were no classes, nor tests). I wanted to take the class to see if I even enjoyed riding.
Being a type A, my hubby arranged for us to have a private class and to have both days collapsed into one (to save time, of course, since we are busy business owners). We passed the written test in the morning. No problem. Then from 12:30pm to 7:30pm we went through two days of riding instruction. Keep in mind I’ve never ridden. Keep in mind I didn’t know where the brakes or clutch were or what a choke was. (Other than this is what I wanted to do to my husband by six o’clock that evening). Read more