Sabbaticals Happen

I've been away.

All bloggers say this.

And then they promise, promise, promise that they'll be back, for real this time.

Welp, I've been away, and I promise it'll probably happen again.

After all, I have a life.

And sometimes that great, big adventure I'm loving means that I have to take a sabbatical from things I enjoy -- like sharing my life's ups and downs with y'all. But that's okay. I know that my dedicated readership of two (my mom and me) (oh, hell, who am I kidding? my mom doesn't read this!) has missed me.

So, I've returned.

With news.

First...

My beloved Booger passed away. He was a dapper ol' dandy, and he wore bowties like a champ. He was a cuddler and a serious boon to the reputation of cats everywhere. It happened quickly and painlessly, and both the SandMan and I were there with him in the end. Yes, I've cried and sobbed and teared up and every other sort of sad snuffling possible, because I miss him like crazy. 

I mean, seriously, don't YOU miss this face?

Well, I do. And if that picture doesn't do it, then this one will:

He was a reader, and the best book club buddy I've ever had:

Now, enough of that. 

Because, second...

The day after poor Boogs kicked the proverbial bucket, my idiot husband decided that it was a good idea to abandon me with my grief and instead go camping with a friend. While he was packing his sleeping bag and alcohol and preparing for a good time, I was bed-ridden and demolished. I missed my kitty.

So, while the SandMan was away, I decided to play... 

Alas, meet Mycroft!

He likes to read, too!

No, for real, while Chris went on his all-bro weekend trip, I drove to the local animal shelter and adopted the first cat I saw. No, seriously. Mycroft was literally the first cat I saw, and it was love at first sight. It was for Khaleesi, too, who is getting along just swell with her new friend.

While the three of us fat cats chilled and waited for the SandMan to come home, I wondered if I had perhaps made a mistake adding to the family without my big dude's permission. So, I decided to do what any logical girl would... I pretended I didn't do it. 

The SandMan came home, and I just sat on the couch. Mycroft came running out, and SandMan was all like, "Um, what the hell?," and I was all like, "What, dear? I don't see anything." This went on for a good five minutes.

But everybody became buddies fairly quickly.

For the record, this is a picture of my husband RIGHT after he got home from the camping. He smelled SO HORRIFIC. Like, hand to God, I caught a strong whiff of him straight when he walked through the door. I think this picture illustrates how badly SandMan smelled, as Mycroft is doing his best to get away from him.

Let's see... other news.

I chopped off all my hair.

No.

I don't think you understand.    

It's ALL gone.

Here's my before:

Here's my after: 

All in all, it's been a long couple of weeks. Now, of course I did more than lose a cat, get a cat, and cut my hair, but I doubt you're interested in hearing about my West Wing marathon or how the maintenance man fixed the hole in our bathroom ceiling or etc., etc., etc.

But if you are, message me, and I'll tell you in detail how Sam Seaborn is my least favorite character and how faulty dryer ventilation can lead to ceiling leakage. It'll be my pleasure.