Attitude adjustment

Y'know, I haven't mentioned in this forum the most amazing development since our return from the week at the beach: Miss Pussis, formerly of the look-at-me-and-I-will-flee school of emotional detachment, the not-so-finicky-as-Morris eater but decidedly aloof in her interspecies relationships, the cat whose personal slogan is 'Just Feed Me and Let It Go At That, Willya?!?'... has become almost 'friendly' after her week of forced solitude. Can you believe it?!?

The report from the friend of a friend who looked in on her during our absence was that she effectively hid herself somewhere in the house all week long or at least when her food and water was being filled and litter box tended.

But, boy, when we opened the front door upon coming home... she bolted out of hiding, came right up... and meowed! That's right, the original silent feline film star mewled like a baby and actually swirled underfoot looking for attention! What a striking development!

She spent the first week the same way, sticking close to feet, jumping up to be petted and scruffed and just made a real fussy show of being glad to see us. What's more, since then she has actually shown a desire to cross over the formerly fear fraught threshold of... the bedroom! Yeah, she'll complacently allow herself to be carried in at night, placed in her spot at the foot of the bed and will willingly stay put for most of the night. Until restlessness or hunger wakes her up in the wee hours and she lets herself out, scratches the door open and heads for the food bowl.

She still likes her chair to herself all day long and is not really keen on being held and petted while TV watching or anything 'human' like that but, all in all, a definite turnabout in her demeanor. Like night and day.

I mean, we know she's the same cat... but it's like she's a different cat!

Although she's still no dog...

Twilight Zone

Now... would you look at that? I'm just now noticing the duplicate- or almost duplicate anyway -entries below. I had written up the report of the toy-store-delivery-gone-sour and either the pc shut down or froze up at the very end of it and I assumed it was lost in the ether, as it were.

I did my best to replicate the earlier version- whilst editing myself as I always am wont to do here in this forum -and it's weird to see the repetition and emphasis and the added note about the suddenly-mysteriously-missing-hat coming back.

Which it did, I'm pleased to report.

Doesn't smell any different so I guess it wasn't mistreated too badly during it's... er... wayward...ness...

Nobody's Poet

Wildfires in the news / but I got rain in my shoes / if I wake tomorrow to meet the day / will the world look the same way? / I know the scene is changing / I don't doubt it's true / it's not just the weather / but the color of me / and the color of you.

There you have it. Another bittersweet nugget of joy tinged with heartache and sunny pessimism. Thank you, thank you very mush. Don't applaud, just throw money.

Funny story: Well, not really a 'story'. Not even a vignette, just an aside overheard from atop a wooden ladder in a toy store. Man says to his woman companion while browsing the preschool aisle and looking over a familiar spud-headed character toy:

"Look. They have Mr. Emesis."

Wha...?!?

I couldn't believe my ears and what the heck was he talking about?!? He said it again, the woman repeated it and, unable to make sense of the exchange, I, looking down from my lofty perch, just had to ask...

"Say what...?!?"

He says, "I said they have Mister and Missus... Potato Head..."

Oh... okay then... as you were...

Autumn

Hey, my knowledge of times and seasons is only slightly more limited than my knowledge of world geography but it feels like fall to me regardless of what the calendar says. Which is great because I'm ready to break out the sweaters and jackets and put the shorts away. Yay!

In other news: The toy business is heating up. The homespun enterprise, not so much, but the retail gig is winding up to throw a fast ball. Steadily increasing freight deliveries are a sure sign of what's to come for holiday madness. I'm told it gets positively whacko for the weeks intervening Black Friday and the end of the year with crowds upon crowds crowding in the aisles picking the shelves clean for to fill wee tykes wish lists. Should prove interesting.

What also should have been interesting but turned otherwise was a trip with my regular toy store cohort, Big Don, to lend a hand to another local store with their weekly delivery on Friday. I expected a gladsome few hours of toy geek comraderie, much like I experience every week at my own 'home' store. Not.

It seems the locals at that unnamed outlet have a habit of not finishing their delivery in a timely fashion and we were more or less recruited to show them how it could be done. Not an altogether happifying circumstance to say the least. After arriving well before the home team, unloading their truck in half the time they normally take and trying to make some reasonable semblance of order in their ridiculously miniscule stockroom, it became pretty obvious that we were as welcome as a bag of marbles spilled on the dance floor.

When it became additionally obvious that our attempts at ingratiating ourselves to the natives with charm and humour were falling on deaf ears, we more or less lowered our heads and determined to make the best showing we could for ourselves and get out of Dodge, as it were.

Disappointing, to say the least.

The capper- pun intended -was the conspicuous absence of my favorite timeworn Abercrombie baseball cap at the end of the day, missing from our little stack of wearables and personal items. A search of the crowded stockroom proved fruitless and queries to the home team were met with blank stares and protestations of ignorance. I was not pleased that it seemed to have taken wing. It's not just a hat, after all, it's the principle of the matter and I determined inwardly never to cross that unfriendly threshhold again.

Since then I've gotten a call saying- Surprise, surprise! -the manager has located chapeau in question and it will be hand delivered to my store.

Still in all, a sad, sorry chapter. Tsk, tsk...

But right now I'm off to 'home turf', batting cleanup before tomorrow's scheduled HUMONGOUS toy delivery. Let the games begin! Yee haw!

Autumn

I don't know if it's official yet- my knowledge of time changes and seasons is only slightly more limited than my knowledge of world geography -but it seems the summer heat is broken. Applause, applause. I'm quite ready to put the shorts away for another year and break out the jackets and sweaters.

Still haven't edited, collated and uploaded those vacation pics yet, one of these days.

Things are heating up at the toy store, bigger shipments every week leading up to the holiday onslaught. Should be very interesting as we get into the thick of it ere long. By all accounts it becomes a royal nuthouse for a few weeks beginning with Black Friday, for all retailers but especially the toy venues as folks stock up on baubles for the wee tykes.

A field trip to another store to help out with their weekly delivery turned into a debacle of sorts. I thought it would be a cool comraderie of fellow toy aficianados glad for the assistance of myself and Big Don, one of my regular toy store cohorts. Not.

Instead we got tossed into the mix with a handful of low energy, seemingly un-motivated youth who apparently have a habit of not finishing their weekly delivery in timely fashion. Instead of being glad for the help, they seemed downright disdainful of these two strange beings who showed up early, unloaded their truck in half the time they usually take and priced in six hours what they might not have finished stocking before the following week's delivery. So after the first few hours of slight assistance from the natives- and my best attempts to win them over with my inestimable charm and humour falling flat -we sort of lowered our heads, dug into the stacks of toy goods and determined to make the best showing we could for ourselves and go home. 

The capper- no pun intended -was the disappearance of my favorite timeworn Abercrombie baseball cap. We took our lunch at the end of the day and came back to retrieve our jackets and sundry goods before heading home to find the hat conspicuously absent. Questions regarding its whereabouts were met with blank looks and protestations of ignorance from the tweener crew and a search of the stockroom proved fruitless. Waahh...

All in all a rather disappointing experience.