Not sure where to start this review. A pro/con list? Let’s start with getting the package. This thing was packaged wonderfully. Was there a ton of excess trash because of that? Yes. However, I appreciated that the acrylic bowl was situated in custom cut styrofoam to keep it from getting damaged. I also liked how organized all the assembly bits were in their neat tray. Just don’t open them upside down, like I did.
First, I laid everything out. Then I was intimidated. I love assembling furniture, but I have to say, this had a lot of pieces. The first thing I noticed, out of the box — All of the particle board pieces are completely finished on all sides – even those that meet and don’t show. That’s really nice. I wasn’t thrilled that the front and back pieces are just thin laminate and not solid “wood.” However, I did note that it would be easy to switch those two pieces so this tree could face left or right. That’s nice. The biggest con was the assembly method. It uses cam lock fasteners. I hate these things. They just don’t make for sturdy fasteners. They give too much wobble.
The instructions were pretty good. I’d watch the video first. I did not. Had I done that, I probably wouldn’t have done step 6 upside down and had to back track. Do you know how hard it is to get cam locks out? Real hard. Note that on the piece with the two entrance holes, there are predrilled holes towards the top for the top stair. It’s not just symmetrical.
Also, I posted a picture with some markups. 100% switch steps 11 and 12. This is stupid – do 12 first. That saves you from “some” of the gymnastics to get step 11 done. Good lord, good luck. You’re going in blind – literally, and trying to fasten things you can’t see at strange angels upside down. God speed.
That said, my cat was all over this thing during assembly. He loves it! I was putting the rug mats on and he was already climbing it and getting in my way. He went under the bowl and started attacking those four scratchers immediately. I sat him in the bowl and he started attacking the corner balls. Tons of fun for the cat. He hasn’t been into hiding in the boxes, but I, at least, appreciate the very fluffy butt pillows that are in there.
I found that he loved the bowl if I put him in it, but wouldn’t jump in it on his own. I think that’s because he can’t see that it’s a solid place to jump. So I put a blanket in there. I know, this limited the adorable toe beans and scrunched-up-cat-cuteness, but it’s probably more cozy with the blanket anyway. Even if it does distract from the clean aesthetics. Now that the blanket is in there, this is his GO-TO spot. He just trots up the stairs and gets in his little bowl. My husband says that’s mostly where he hangs out when I’m at work.
I bought this for the high bowl for him to hang out in. I wanted him to have a high place to sit in the window. This is perfect! He sits in the bowl and watches the people go by in the front window. I have to leave those blinds open for him. It is his favorite spot in the house. I also bought this for the clean design. Thank you so much, for not covering this thing in carpet! I hate those ugly cat trees! Also, if he barfs on it, I can wipe it up or wash the part he barfed on (the rug pads are velcroed on).
So in summary, I do love the finished product. If it was screwed together and not held together with cam locks, it would be 5 stars for SURE. Even with the cam locks, it’s pretty sturdy. My cat has leapt at this thing and it’s been completely fine. He loves it, I’m happy with the look. It’s great. So I give it 4 stars.
First: The new cat’s name is Louie. Or Lou. Or Louie Lou. I left work early Thursday to pick him up at 3:30 and bring him home. I was so insanely anxious about how it was going to go. Would he just hide for months? Would he pee on the couch? AHHH. All was for naught. This is the most chill cat ever.
So I brought him home intending to keep him closed off to the area with his litterbox by way of a large cardboard wall. This worked for a little while because he was mostly just interested in eating and me petting him. Louie loves pets. However, he started looking at things, getting pets, looking more, getting pets. Eventually he hopped up on the bathroom sink. I knew it was about to be over when he made that leap.
That pedestal sink is pretty tall. It was so cute watching him pace back and forth processing the advanced mathematics of how high he’d have to jump to make it. He was very pleased with himself. So then he jumped over the cardboard wall. Fine, whatever. He had no desire to run and hide. He was a bit scared when Mr C came downstairs. However, I picked him up like a baby and carried him over to show that Mr C is nothing to fear. He was fine with this. In fact, he threw himself at Mr C’s feet showing his belly and begging for pets. Alas, Mr C doesn’t really pet animals.
Louie doesn’t respect boundaries though. So when Mr C came down in the evening to lay on the couch and talk — Louie climbed right on top and fell asleep on his chest. Mr C still has not touched the cat with his hands. Louie don’t give a fuck. I also like how Louie wants to get up in your face. He doesn’t just want to sit in your lap, he wants to rub his cheeks on your glasses. As his foster mom said, he kind likes to play by himself. Not so much a fan of the wand toys. But throw him a mouse or roll a ball and he’s all about it. He’ll run across the room and randomly attack a toy (Like Jack’s favorite banana).
I decided to keep him limited to the downstairs until we were/are sure of his litterbox manners. So I slept on the couch. I was sad that he didn’t sit in my lap in the evening (he chose to snooze under the coffee table). He wasn’t keen on me forcing him to snuggle on the couch either. However, every time I woke up and looked around or shifted positions, he was at my feet on the couch. Then this morning I woke up to this blessed moment:
Oh my god it was so sweet and precious. I used my phone to surf the internet for an hour so I wouldn’t disturb the sweet cheek-to-cheek love (and took this picture). But after and hour I had to pee, so we got up.
First order of business: This cat has BAD gas. Both the foster mom and the owner of cattyshack warned me that he was a gassy boy. But they thought it was just him getting different food when he was at the lounge. However, it turns out that they were feeding him the same food. And I also got that food. But this cats gas is so bad that every time he farts (a lot), I check his butt for diarrhea. And his stools are very soft. Then his stool this morning had blood on it. VET TIME! I scheduled him an appointment for Monday but begged them to call if they had a cancellation this afternoon.
So we snuggled and played until I had to go to the doctor at 11:00. Then I cashed a check and mailed some packages, picked up lunch for the husband and I, and came home. The lovely lady who cleans my house had arrived already. Louie loved her! When she was walking up the stairs, he ran ahead of her and plopped down, belly up for pets. This is a thing he does. Louie wants the love of everyone. He has learned that humans can’t resist a cat belly. He uses this to his advantage. She said he wasn’t even that scared of the vacuum! And of course she paused to pet him lots while she cleaned. Then we found out the vet could see him at 4:30! Wonderful!
So at 4:00, I packed him in his new carrier and off we went.
Review for the carrier coming. The foster mom suggested he might like it since he likes to try to sit up in his crate. She was spot on. He just sits up like he’s a little passenger next to me. I hope to get him harness trained so I can open the top and let him stick his head out. We tried the harness today but it was not happening. He just turned into a drunk that couldn’t stand. Funny yet sad.
I hemmed and hawed a lot over what vet to use. Do I used Jack;s vet who were AMAZING or a cat only vet that wouldn’t be so scary? I called the cat only vet today and they didn’t even have a vet in the office today. What? They only do checkups twice a week and they book out “pretty far in advance.” Also, their fee was $17 more. So no, Jacks vet has vets in office every day. And they managed to get me in same day, it turns out. I was worried the massive amount of dog barking would freak him right out. Again, for naught.
Louie has no fucks to give. He literally laid flat out in the middle of the exam room floor. He was also not remotely shy for the vet tech to pet him and carry him off for an anal swab. Sorry, buddy. I heard the screaming.
Even after that, he chilled back out pretty quickly. When the vet picked him up like a normal cat, I told her he preferred to be held like a baby, so she flipped him over and he was happy as a clam. Complete stranger. No fucks to give. Should have named him honey badger.
So he looks really healthy! He’s been prescribed prebiotics for the loose stools and some more dewormer for funsies. They gave him the dewormer (which is oddly enough, banana flavored) and he ate that shit up. Then he threw it up. They suspect that’s because his stomach was empty. Why was his stomach empty? Because I put out a full days worth of food out this morning and the little vacuum inhaled it all!
Anyway, they don’t want to give him medicine AND change his food because that’s too many variables. So they’ll call next week to check in and see how things are going. If he’s still a gas bomb, we might try a new food. So yeah, good visit. When we were checking out he was just chillin’ in his bag and the vet tech was talking to him and I was like “you can pet him. seriously, he loves everyone.” So she opened it up and loved on him some. He eats attention UP. Total attention whore.
I got him back in the car and just marveled at how insanely chill this cat is. So fuck it, I took him into Publix. Yes, I did. My Publix was out of keto cookies, OK? It was a quick in and out.
Fucker didn’t make a PEEP while we were in there. I think he actually liked it! I will definitely have to take him out for a walk with the backpack and see if he likes it.
So this evening he’s actually just been snoozing in my lap! We’re about to go to bed. BED BED. He hasn’t been in the bedroom yet. I’m tempted to sleep on the couch again for some more cheek-to-cheek love because BE-STILL-MY-HEART! But I’m hoping he’ll come snuggle in bed. We do have the cat stairs he can use to hop on the bed.
So off I go! I’m going to be nice and give him food because he hasn’t eaten since this morning. But from here out we’re measuring it out into two feedings! 1/3 a cup twice a day for this 9lb booger. I thought he was fat, so did the vet tech — but the vet said this weight looks good on him. So to just follow the instructions for his current weight. Oh and after he gets a bit of food, I’m gonna give him his banana dewormer again. I hope he doesn’t throw it up. We’ll start the prebiotic with breakfast tomorrow.
Yall, I’m so glad I got this cat. He’s like a OD of prozac for me (well, prozac didn’t actually work for me, but it’s a turn of phrase, OK?). And he’s so fucking chill. No fucks to give. I wish I was 5% as chill as this cat. I love him. K’s gonna come see him tomorrow!
My new cat comes home tomorrow! This week is my off Friday so I’ll have a three day weekend to hang out with him before leaving him home while I go to work. I went through the cat stuff and threw away the ratty stuff and added a few new things. Replaced the cat wands. His harness is here and his collar with my embroidered phone number has already been ordered. His new cat carrier is set up. It’s inconspicuously open as a possible bed place he might just stumble upon. You know… not a carrier… just a cat bed…
I bleached the litter boxes and the litter closet. They aired out and it’s now spotless and ready for cat poops. I have, like, 100lbs of cat litter. I’ve got food and treats in the cookie jar. I took a long delivery box and cut some holes in it and shoved it behind Sir Bastian if he feels like he needs somewhere to hide away. I have a new cat tree on order that has two hidey holes, but it wont be here in time. I’ve got catnip licks to stick to it when I get it set up. And his cat acne stuff is getting here tomorrow. I just need to move the peace lily somewhere and put food in his dish!
It’s been so long since I got a new pet that I have no idea how he’s going to react. No idea at all. Will he be all affectionate because he’s lonely or will he hide for two weeks? Who knows! We’re going to shut off the upstairs (carpeted) bedrooms until I know he’s got good litterbox manners. But don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the couch so he’s not all alone in a new place.
I still don’t know his name. Should we keep Milo? Is he an Oliver/Ollie? Louie/Lou? Finn? Maxwell/Max? Edison/Ed?
I’m looking at gods of dreams. Bes (Egypt), Morpheus (Greek), Somnia (Roman), Manit (Native American), Oooooo I like this one: “Angus is a god of dreams and love, and the Celtic mythology spun around his life and acts is cherished in both Ireland and Scotland.”
In my last post, I told yall I was going to meet Rey at the Cattyshack. Well, today I went to meet Rey at the Cattyshack. So Rey was a very active cat. She was not showing her best today. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in a great mood because she’s been at the cat lounge since Thursday. She was all up for playing! She is VERY active She loved playing with the fuzzy worms on the wand. She liked to grab them and try to take them away. Kinda like the opposite of fetch. She was all for running on the cat wheel too. She was pretty awesome. However, she was not all about the pets. I did get to hold her and pet her, but for the most part, she just wanted to do her own thing. I understand that she just wasn’t in the mood.
However, while I was trying my hardest to get Rey’s attention, I got a lot of Milo’s attention. I sat on the couch to coax Rey over, so Milo came over. I gave him some love and put him aside. Rey isn’t a fan of other cats and she wanted to pick a fight today. Then I was sitting on the floor playing with the wand toy. Milo came over and helped himself to my lap. Put Milo aside. Then we were in the other room with the foster mom playing with Rey. Milo came over so I picked him up and he fell asleep on my lap. It was so cute they took a picture and sent it to his foster mom.
She confirmed that yep, that’s pretty much all he does. Again later, I picked him up again while we were talking and he went right to sleep in my arms.
Dude was straight up passed out. It was like someone ODed him on gabapentin. Is this a stoner cat?
So I felt kinda bad, because I came to meet Rey. This was a meet and greet with Rey. But damn, Milo was stealing the show. Rey’s hair was very thick and coarse whereas Milo is silky smooth. So I asked why we ruled out Milo. He was in my original email because this is his website bio:
“Milo is a very sweet boy that deserves a better life than roaming the streets searching for food. He deserves a forever home with lots of love and attention to give. He has never met a stranger and greets everyone as if they’ve been life long friends. He is very docile and would do great in a home with another cat!”
Then the original reply to my email was this (in reference to Milo):
“Milo is very quiet and keeps to himself at the cat lounge. He doesn’t interact with people or other cats much at all, but if they approach him, he is very friendly and purrs. And he will play with the wand toys if he’s presented with one, but if he sees one being played with in the distance, he doesn’t go join in the fun.”
So they thought he was too mellow and wouldn’t fit my needs? They also wanted him to be with a buddy since he is so mellow. So I had them call his foster mom and see what she thought about him being an only cat. She didn’t see a problem with it.
With Rey being so insanely active, I was kinda worried about leaving her at home while I’m at work. Yeah, I’d get her a cat wheel and stuff, but cat wants to play. I feel like Milo would just sleep all day. He’s like an old man cat. So I asked his age. He’s only 1 year and 1 month old. WTF? He has a little bald spot on his chin and some chin acne, but we can clear that up.
So Rey is a shit ton of fun, but I kinda felt like Milo was choosing me. Rey wanted everyone’s attention and wouldn’t sit still. Milo just kept following me around for pets. So um yeah… I’m adopting Milo!
He’s kinda funny looking. His eyes and ears are super pale pink. And his inner eyelid kept lagging because dude wanted to sleep. He also has a very small head. And there’s the chin acne. But dude has the chill personality. I like him. He’s coming home on Thursday. We might change his name. I’m kinda meh on “Milo.” It’s not a name I would have picked.
So he’s fixed and has all his vaccines and stuff. He’s even microchipped already. I’m thinking when I have a spare off Friday (that’ll be like a month away at least), I should take him to the vet maybe for a check up? Do I want to use Pet Hospital of Madison — they took care of Jack. They were AMAZING. Or do I want to try a cat only vet like Catisfaction? Also is pet insurance a scam?
Anyway, meet my new cat! Welcome to the family!
Oh and yes, I would LOVE to post on Facebook. But… I’m not sure. My sister2 wanted me to take her cats cause she lives with sister1 who wont let her have the cats. She’s lived with sister1 for like YEARS. Not that sister1 wants her there. She moved in for “a few weeks” when mom was alive and she’s never left. Well, her cats had been at dad’s girlfriends house. Shut away in a single room with no attention at all. For YEARS. And before that, they weren’t great. One had litterbox issues and one didn’t like anyone. So dad’s girlfriend just sold her house.
Yeah. Sister2 tried to get me to take her cats a few times. She even lied and said she only had them because mom “made her get them.” Anyway, I don’t know what happened to them. I assume she just moved them into sister1s house kinda like she did her own ass and life. If that’s the case, sister1 is gonna be fucking pissed that I wouldn’t take them. I mean, to be fair sister1 is always pissed. And of course sister2 will be pissed too. So I’m kinda not telling them. Yet.
It’s kinda sad because I feel like I lost my family. I love my bro and his wife and kids. But his wife never answers when I call. Bro always answers but he’s so busy and not talkative so its kinda hard to have a conversation. I’m not sure if I should just go low contact with sisters. I decided I would after the Christmas debacle, but I feel bad about it. It’s sad. At least I have my husband and friends! And my in laws seem to like me a lot. And now I have a cat!
Today I bleached the litterboxes and the cat bathroom. I will also admit that there was totally a poop from my cat that died over 6 months ago in the litterbox. I’m sorry.
So why did I finally get off my ass to stop moping about my dead cat and clean litterboxes? (Seriously, you carry two FULL dirty litterboxes out and dump them and bleach them sometime). Well… I’m thinking about getting a new cat. I mean, obviously I want a new cat, but I’ve been getting extremely anxious when I try to think about it. So it’s been upsetting me. So what changed?
I read an article about a cat that was for adoption and he sounded fucking amazing. Apparently, Pakistan doesn’t have cat rescues. So people rescue street cats and send them to other countries to adopt out. This particular cat loved all the people. I want a cat that loves all the people! Turns out he’s in California and they only adopt locally so bummer. Also someone already adopted him. Oh well. But I did reach out to a local cat place (again ’cause they never responded in January). I’m going with a foster org rather than the shelter because I’m looking for a personality type. I have no requirements on looks or age or sex — only that it be a short hair. Listen, Tabitha was a long hair. When a long hair cat has diarrhea and you’re at work for a few hours — well, your house is now a disaster as is your cat. Also, dingleberries. No thank you.
So I hopped over to their page and read some cat bios. I found a few that sounded good and I emailed them. They actually got back to me this time. So I went full crazy cat lady. I’ve emailed these people back and forth like 10 times. I have thoroughly explained that I want the neediest velcro cat you have. So she sent me like 4 that she thought would be good. Two were out because they wanted friend cats. I kinda want to have a single cat. So I narrowed it down to Rey and Aletha. Rey is young, 7 months, and Aletha is a little over 2 years. I asked if Aletha was going to be cool with me going and picking her up all the time to come sit with me or go to bed. They said Rey’s my girl. Here’s some descriptions of her from her bio and emails:
“Rey is a little firecracker of a girl who is as sassy as she is stubborn. She is the first to greet a new person […]. She’s more than happy to be carried around the house on your forearm for long periods of time, or lounge on your chest while watching TV. Long-haired individuals beware, however: Rey has a tendency to climb your shoulder, wait for you to let your guard down, and then relentlessly attempt to remove your hair from your scalp.”
“Rey is a hilarious little rambunctious girl. She likes to ride shoulders and talks, and is very needy. She would require something like a cat wheel and interactive motion-activated toys to keep her mentally stimulated. She is super duper smart. And she is also extremely social. She WILL seek out wand toys whether she’s invited to play or not, and gets a little possessive about it actually. lol. She also has never met a stranger and wants everyone’s attention that walks through the door. I adore the little squiggle on her nose. When I first saw her I thought it was a piece of lint. LOL!”
“I talked to the foster moms, and Rey would 100% be the affectionate, attention seeking cat you need. Her foster mom has carried her in a baby sling, Rey wants “uppies” which is when she wants to be put on your shoulder…lol, and she said she greets her at the door and loves kisses on the face.”
Here is a picture of Rey at the lounge:
Fuuuuuuck. I’m already in love with Rey. I haven’t even met her yet! So I cleaned everything up really well and bought some food and fresh litter. My Amazon cart already has a new carrier and wand toy in it. I picked out the cat wheel I want to get her (they said she LOVES the cat wheel at her foster home AND at the lounge so they really want her to have a cat wheel. I’m waiting until I see her use a damn cat wheel before I commit to order one. I didn’t think cats actually used those.) I’m going to meet her tomorrow.
I haven’t met her yet. Yall, if this cat doesn’t like me I’m gonna be so sad. I’m all anxious about making a good first impression now! Like I’m all this cat is gonna have. Am I enough? Am I worthy of this cat? I’m so nervous!
Also, all over their website and facebook they make explicitly clear that there are absolutely no same-day adoptions. Then she comes at me with an email telling me to submit my application and I can take her home this weekend if we’re a match! WHAT? You said no same day adoptions! I’m not ready! I haven’t met her! I have to clean! What food does she like? I’m not prepared for this! So I’m going to meet her tomorrow (Sunday). If we’re a match, I’ll get her on Thursday or Friday because it’s my 3 day weekend. That way she can get settled before I go off to work all week.
M, this might be your new god-kitty! Oh I hope she likes me.
I still miss Jack more than anything. You see all these bittersweet comics like this one where your pet is still with you:
But they’re not. They’re gone. I WISH I could imagine he was still around. I would love to see movement in the corner of my eye and think it was him. Or feel a ruffle on the bed and think it was him. I don’t get that though. I haven’t got that at all. I would absolutely love to be the bat shit crazy cat lady that thinks her dead cat is still around. I wanna be that crazy person.
It would be so much better than the emptiness. Just the void. Today I left a hamburger bun on the counter and had the reflex that Jack might get it. But before I even finished the thought I just was filled with the emptiness that no, he won’t.
Friday, I had my second tattoo session on my sleeve. Poor Jack has only been a head since November. Now he has his body and his precious bowtie!
As you can see by the outline (yeah, that’s tattooed), we bit off more than we could chew. But to her credit, my artist pursued a lot longer than she wanted to to get the pumpkins done. Apparently, after 3 or 4 hours, your skin starts to turn too red and my artist doesn’t like to go longer than that. That sucks because I have to drive to Nashville and I’d happily sit for as long as she’d tattoo for. So I’m a bit disappointed that we won’t be able to work behind his head until Fall. In April, we’re going to finish up what we outlined — a few more leaves and his tail and then break for summer. She doesn’t want to do more than that so he looks like a completed piece over the summer.
It was a bit of an awkward session. There was miscommunication on what I wanted, apparently. I’m not sure how it happened as on my tattoo page that I originally sent (click here to see our communications page), I stated that I wanted a half to 3/4 length sleeve. Maybe that means different things to different people? But she wasn’t aware I wanted it to wrap around my arm and she didn’t know I wanted it past my elbow and up onto my shoulder. I think she thought I was “adding on” to my original request and she wasn’t happy about it because she wants to make one big cohesive piece and not something that just keeps getting added onto.
So I felt bad ’cause she seemed irritated. But I assumed “sleeve” meant it wrapped around? And I said between half and 3/4 so isn’t 3/4 below your elbow? I get the shoulder thing — I guess I never spelled that out, or if I did, it didn’t hit. But I love a raglan sleeve. I also don’t like how shoulder/sleeve tattoos just round off at the shoulder. I’d like it to be more like a raglan sleeve. And I LOVE LOVE LOVE when tattoos have a little peekaboo on the neck line. Like just a few swirls showing under your shirt making people wonder what’s there. I’ve seen this a few times and it’s always been part of the visual in my mind. I’m not getting tattoo greedy, but I don’t think she knew that, I guess?
We figured it out. We’re going to add pumpkin vines with some squash blossoms below the elbow. As far as the wrap around, she says just leaves will look bad. So I need to do something else inside the arm. She suggested his favorite toy, but 1 — this isn’t ALL about Jack. And 2, his favorite toy was a banana. So not on theme there. So, I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen there. I’m almost playing with maybe it shouldn’t wrap and close inside? I don’t know. I always figured it would but I don’t like the idea of more stuff being inside the tattoo. But we played with the idea of more fall stuff — maybe more pumpkins? But how would that work? Anyway, we can do a shit ton more on the tattoo before we figure that out. We got the lower part and the shoulder part. We can do those first.
I also wasn’t aware of the 4 hour “limit” thing. I get that my skin was discoloring but like I kinda wanted to ask if we could do the tail. But she had already cursed at my tattoo three times in frustration. Combine that with the awkward misunderstanding and I was just like OK, whatever. Plus she said she had to do some drawings for the next day. So it was a frustrating appointment. I’m worried that she’s not enthused about what I want vs what she originally envisioned. Yall know how anxious I get!
All that said, we got some great shit done. Look at those pumpkins! And I love the leaf towards my back with all the different colors. Her work is stunning. There’s a lot of oranges – I really wanna get some more reds in there. There will be plenty of green as this is her current sketch of where we’re going:
NOTE: Art belongs to Devon Greig
So. I’m very anxious because the appointment didn’t go great. However, I’m in love with the tattoo. It over doubled in size and I love it! Its big and impactful and gorgeous. It’s going to show in all my short sleeve tops this summer and I’m just going to have to buy more professional tank tops. It has to happen. I never thought I could have an arm tattoo — much less such gorgeous work! I love him.
I’ve also already jumped the shark and ordered some rash guards for summer. Can’t have it fading before it’s even finished!
Today was my last day at my shitty job. They read me out a little early so I got home around 3:45. Mr C took a nap, but I had to stay “up” for the AC repair guy. After he left, I decided I wanted a nap too. I set my alarm for an hour and a half so I wouldn’t sleep too long. I ignored my alarm. Mr C got up to go fetch him some dinner and I stayed in bed kinda 75% asleep and 25% awake. Maybe 80/20. I miss Jack. Obviously, sometimes I think about getting another cat when I’m ready. So I was thinking about looking at cats. I have a long weekend between jobs as I have Friday off and Monday is a government holiday. I thought maybe mom could come up and we could look at cats together.
That would be nice. She could help and it’d be something we could do together. Maybe hit up a few Saturday adoption events. I wasn’t decided or anything, just a thought I probably wouldn’t act on. I decided to get up when a strand of Christmas lights went out on the bedroom tree changing the general cast of the ceiling from a warm red to more of a green shade – then that strand must have completely died and returned the walls to the warm red. When my feet hit the ground I remembered mom’s dead.
I saw a gently sweeping stripe of dead lights on the tree confirming my suspicions.
This is a post about gingerbread houses. And Mom. And Jack. And how Mom got her groove back through gingerbread. Just go with it.
So back in 2006, I had just moved into my own place on Golf Road. Lovely shitty apartment of my own. $545 a month. Just me and Jack. And mom visited a lot. I worked at the police department as a dispatcher and was less than a year away from starting my career (though 5 years from graduating — not the point). It was Christmas! My first Christmas in my OWN place. This called for something special. This called for … a gingerbread house!
So mom came to visit and help me make my very own gingerbread house. There were issues. We couldn’t find any gingerbread mix. So it was really a sugar cookie house. It counts, OK? It had windows! Mom showed me how to crush up jolly ranchers and melt them to make stained glass windows! We had a peppermint roof and a full length chocolate chip chimney. I cut up gum drops and made a wreath. It was glorious. This was before cheap battery-powered lights, but if we had had those, it would have glowed gloriously through my translucent blue and purple sugar windows.
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Then the next few years we’d always do something special for Christmas. Usually treats. Like chocolate dipped Oreos, or chocolate covered Ritz Crackers with peanut butter, or those fancy treats where you melt a Rolo on top of a pretzel and smush it with a peanut M&M — or if you’re going somewhere fancy — a half a pecan. Sometimes we even did gingerbread cookies and decorated them with icing.
Then, in 2009, I was feeling adventurous. I was in a much nicer apartment with a guest room and dating a cute guy who would become my husband. It was time for another gingerbread house. We had to outdo our previous effort. This had to be magnificent. We would do something with more grandeur. We would make a church.
How does one make a gingerbread church? Well, you just make the front and back taller so the roof is steeper and put a steeple on top. We’re not on the Food Network here, aint nobody got time to make templates and stuff. But don’t you worry, we got this. It would have even more jolly rancher windows! More icing! The M&Ms would be Christmas colors to look like Christmas lights! And best of all: Shingles. We would use Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal and put individual shingles on that shit. Boo-yeah!
Now, I would like to say, we kept improving on our gingerbread game. We got so good we could do competitions! But we didn’t. The church was actually the pinnacle of my gingerbread greatness. Sad, I know. But that’s not where the story ends. Those were merely flights-of-fancy in the gingerbread game of my own. Mom would take gingerbread houses and flip the script.
So take a step back. I moved away from my text-book codependent family in 2003 and got a shit ton of therapy. In my evolution of self, I turned from my father. Fuck that asshole. No, not God, my real father. THAT asshole. Sometimes the pendulum has to swing really far to right itself. Now my beloved mother had been beaten down by that motherfucker for decades. And you can be damn straight I turned my pot-stirring self to getting her to realize it. And she was really coming around by the time she kicked the bucket. I think she might have had the gumption to skip Christmas by the time she died. I’m sad I never got to see that and sneak her a wink and a high five. OK, back to the early 2000s:
So dad always controlled every holiday. Though they divorced when I was two, dad always controlled everything. Holidays were at his house. We’d go over the weekend before and scrub it clean cause he’s kinda a hoarder. Mom would make every single dish and we’d go over to dads and pretend to be happy. Even after he got a girlfriend — who thankfully took over the cleaning part. Mom would still cook for a week and haul it all over to that bastards house so he could have his happy family holiday (yes, with his girlfriend and my step brother — the kid he had while he was still married to my mother). Every Thanksgiving and every Christmas — even Easter.
At some point, she started making extra to “hide.” Is it hiding if you make it yourself, in your own house, and just don’t take it over? Not really, but in my codependent family it was rebellion. I think this started when the girlfriend would start making to-go meals for her friends and for my step brother (the affair child). We stopped having leftovers left. Mom stopped having food to eat off of for the next week after she’d spent all week cooking for everyone. No more turkey casserole! You know, where you shred the turkey and mix it with the dressing and cream-of-chicken soup? None. So mom started making extra dressings and extra mac & cheese and keeping it at her house. Come 2014 something had changed.
Now I’m not sure what triggered the change. And I wouldn’t dare say “something snapped” — nay, something clicked into place is what happened. Maybe that was after dad started putting rules on presents — how much we could spend, and then one year declaring we weren’t allowed to give gifts at all (yeah no, fuck him — yall know I didn’t listen to his shit). But 2014 was a new era. In 2014, mom decided to have her own Christmas.
Now don’t get me wrong, it was still a secret. It didn’t replace dads Christmas. Mom would just have her own Christmas on a different weekend with only her own children and we’d ACTUALLY be happy for real. There were kinks. Bitch sister banned pictures so there are no photographic memories to look back on with my blessed mother. Because god-forbid dad find out and get his wittle-feewings-huwt. So I’m a bit bitter that moms gone and I can’t go back and look at those non-existent-photos, but it happened. And I have the gingerbread houses to prove it. Recently, I took an internet deep dive to find them.
2014 was a learning year. What would we do for moms Christmas? She’d make a big meal but what should we do? Gingerbread houses! But we’re not going to be all difficult about it. This was before gingerbread house kits were a thing, mind you. Mom decided we’d make cardboard houses and decorate them! And we’d use hot glue and caulk because ain’t nobody eating these anyway. So we made cardboard houses in advance. And even one Pringles can which became a rocket of sorts. Then, when the night came, we exchanged presents and ate food and laughed and made merry in my sisters tiny house where mom lived. And after dinner, we gingerbreaded! We had tons of cheap candies and graham crackers, pretzels and cereals, all sorts of shit to glue to your box house!
I chose the biggest box house because I’m ambitious. I did not anticipate the sheer amount of time it would take to cover such a large house with graham crackers, cookies, and smarties. Much less how much time it would take me to caulk to entire roof and lay it with pretzels. It was all I could do to get a Twizzler door and butterscotch windows before the night was over. But it was a wonderful Christmas party! And mom was beaming.
I returned home with my house and eventually, I had to spiff that shit up. I had run out of time! So one night while my husband was playing D&D at the table with friends, I sat in the living room with hot glue gun and made that shit SPIFFY. Look at this. M&M Christmas lights! Lined windows! My signature gumdrop wreath — and Christmas tree Peeps. Fuck Yeah. Much better.
Oh now we had a tradition. And the next year, we found gingerbread house kits! 2015 brought a cookie roof and a ice-cream-cone tree (pretty sure mom made me that). We even started saving all the leftover candies because, again, nobody is eating this stuff. And we got better. Caulk is great for cookies and cereal, but don’t use it on the sugar candy — it melts it. Like, it never dries and the candy melts off it. Some kind of chemical reaction. I don’t know. Eventually we gave up on caulk anyway.
In 2016, I bought a whole stash of PREBUILT gingerbread houses. All we had to do was decorate. I went with a Chex roof.
By 2017, gingerbread house kits were becoming a thing. Not only were they easy to find, they started making weird shit. Mom bought me this sweet Mario castle kit! For some reason it didn’t come with a roof or second-story walls. But I’m an engineer so I hot-glued some wooden-skewer beams for supports and filled in with graham crackers. Fuck yeah. Add some Peep trees. Magnificent.
I should also point out that it started to become clear that this tradition was spreading in the family. And by family, I mean Jack. It became very clear that he was sneaking on the counter at night to eat the icing and marshmallows. I let him have at it. It was Christmas, after all. It was pretty evident on that red mushroom though.
In 2018, I brought back my cereal shingle technique. Notice the Mario-Coins saved from the previous year.
In 2019 mom really went all out. Sister had moved into a bigger house so we could set up in the downstairs game room. Multiple tables were set up and everyone was gifted an adorable little spruce tree in a gingerbread box. I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember this year much. I had some pretty bad brain trauma and I probably barely made it there. That might also explain why the hell there is so damn much icing on the roof. Not my best showing.
2020 was one hell of a year. The party almost didn’t happen because — well, Covid. My husband wasn’t about to leave our house and he really didn’t want anyone here. But I begged and God was on my side. Everyone promised to quarantine and come up here for the party so I wouldn’t have to travel (I was still recovering). God really made that year special for us. Everyone came up. And everyone spent the night! It was so much fun. We had a full house. And mom had got us all matching PJs! We took one of the family’s most cherished photos that night. A family photo with us in our matching PJs and mom up front. Who knew it would be the last family photo we ever took? We didn’t even hardly have any family photos — maybe just my wedding photos, actually. I’m still so sad my sweet husband took the photo because that means he’s not in it. If only I had thought to ask CB to take one with him in it…
Well, we didn’t actually do houses that year. We decorated cookies to make things easier. J had bought an ugly sweater cookie kit and me and mom baked hand-cut gingerbread cookies before everyone got up here. I think it was December 19th? Just a week before she died on Christmas day. Fucking Covid.
The next year, 2021, not everyone was in much of a celebrating mood. But my sister-in-law and brother agreed to host. I found these spiffy fondant penguins at Target. My sisters didn’t come. But we kept the tradition alive. Hey, I even did a damn fine showing with a frosted miniwheats roof. And that was the last Christmas with my precious Jack. And damned if he didn’t go after that house in those dark mid-night hours. He nearly ate a whole damned Peep tree! And look how his tongue sanded down the wreath candies and the fondant door. And is that a Super-Mario star I spy from years before atop the tree?
This year, 2022 was a little better. My sisters still weren’t feeling the joy so I said I would host. And I bought us all fun kits from Publix! I honestly didn’t expect my sisters to come, but last minute they did! Not only did they come, but they stopped at the store and picked up their own gingerbread kits to make! Since I didn’t expect my sisters and I’ve been insanely depressed about Jack, I invited K2 to join us. She made her first gingerbread house in the form of a Publix. I made a moose lodge with a pretzel roof. Apparently, my husband doubted my pretzel roof. SHAME on you, husband! My pretzel roof is fantastic — I mean, there’s a lot of glue strands but whatever.
It’s not very traditional Christmas-look, but it’s there. I wasn’t feeling it as much this year without Jack. Last year we didn’t have mom, but it was still a tradition for me to make a house for Jack to eat in “secret.” This year was harder for me without mom and without Jack. But we kept the tradition alive. We KEEP the tradition alive. Long live mom and her rebellious Chirstmas parties!
I miss my Jack Jack. This past few days have been a new wave of sadness. I suppose it started with one day this week when I got home. You know how, when you get a new pet, you realize all the stuff you have to change? No more toilets left up, no open doors, no leaving food out — stuff like that. Well, I’m trained for Jack. So I came home and was careful not to swing open the door because he’s always right there waiting for me to open it. But… he’s not anymore. Like for that little minute I forgot he died and expected him to be behind the door.
Then, I had to read all the “The Loving Reaper” comics. Link here on WEBTOON. They’re PSA comics that are beautifully drawn and depressing AS FUCK. And a lot of them involve pets and terrible human beings, and obviously, death. So that didn’t help. I know.
Then, I went saving off old photos. This wasn’t related to Jack. We did our annual gingerbread tradition and I wanted to look at past gingerbread parties. I’ll get into it in another post — but it led me to going through all of Facebook and even back to Flickr for photos. So I also took the time to download all of these old photos (yes, you can request a zip file of every photo you’ve ever uploaded to Facebook). I saved them to my google photos for good future keeping.
LOOK AT MY SWEET BABY! Look how little he was! Those cheeks!
And here, he’s being all curious and adorable.
And I miss his little foot prints.
I just miss him so much. He loved when I’d come home and scoop him up like a baby and rub his belly and talk to him. He’d turn on that fake hamming-it up purr that sounded like a motor while I rubbed his “polka dots” (belly) and stuck my finger between his toe beans so he could squeeze it. He was such a good boy. He loved me so much. I really miss him a lot.
The past few nights (maybe 4ish?) I’ve been getting terrible anxiety at bed time. I’ll get anxiety tummy and then a tight chest.
I also started following this local cat place on Facebook and so that’s had adopting another cat on my mind. I think it’s just upsetting me though. I want JACK. I want Jack back. I want my biggun’
I’ll hide that cat page for now. I’m just upset all over again. Now I’m getting anxiety attacks every night. Ugh.
