Okay, if I have to go, at least I have my toy

Thursday afternoon was the day for the cats' regular vet check-up and shots. I hate getting them in their carrier. I can usually take one sleepy cat off-guard and get her in the carrier. The problem is that there are TWO cats, and the chances of BOTH cats being sleepy and in separate rooms (and therefore not realizing what I'm up to) are pretty slim. Add that to the fact that the cat carrier is usually stored in an upstairs closet and only comes out when it's time for a little road trip.

So this year I thought I'd be tricky. I got the carrier out two days early and set it on the floor in the living room. I was hoping that the cats would think it would be a new place to play. Tuesday night after work, I walked into the room and saw Alice hiding inside it. Yes!

Wednesday night, I walked into the living room and saw this:



Even better! The cats only put their favorite toy in places where they've been sleeping. So, I figured Thursday's vet trip would be a piece of cake. Okay, so it wasn't, but at least while the cats were stressed out in the vet's office, they had their favorite toy.

So, as usual, this got me thinking in terms of analogies. Did having the toy there make the trip to the vet any easier? Short of either cat learning to talk, I don't think I'll ever know. It was kind of a safety item, though-- something that reminded them that life could be okay eventually.

What are my safety items? Or my safety routines? What do I do to establish normalcy when life is scary or stressful? When I was packing up my house in Iowa to move here, I slept in a sleeping bag on a foam eggshell mattress for a couple of nights after my bed got loaded in the moving truck. It wasn't ideal, but it was my bed. I put it in the same spot my bed used to be (roughly), and the cats slept on the exact corner they always sleep on when the bed's there. I took a picture because I thought it was funny. (Sorry, no electronic version of the picture, and I can't figure out my scanner.)

Now it's got me thinking about how much I want my life to be regular and predictable and what I do to make it feel that way. I think we all crave routines. I think I crave them even more because I don't have some of the routines I used to always rely on. Dinner time, for example, happens much later than I would like because I teach evening classes. Teaching seminary requires me to sleep less than I would like. I have a feeling that if I were in the middle of a tornado aftermath, with my house in shambles around me, I would still be trying to find some kind of routine-- maybe I would be stacking remants of books together or trying to set up furniture fragments and items sort of where they used to be.

What would be my comfort item in the carrier? Chocolate? Nah, too easy and predictable. Scriptures? Well, yeah. My favorite pillow? The throw I always use for naps?

What are YOUR comfort items?

Time for a(nother) tea party, please!

Today has been grey and yucky, and it started with me NOT getting the phone call that school had been canceled. That meant I got up at 4:30 to teach seminary-- well, okay, I overslept my alarm by 20 minutes-- got ready, drove SLOWLY through the snow to the Institute building, and then no kids came. So I drove back home, shoveled my driveway, and wished I'd been able to sleep in.

Last night I was browsing through a Victoria magazine and the front cover had pretty tea party goodies on it. I thought, "That's what I need: a tea party!" Not that I drink tea. I just want pretty table settings and cute little treats and an excuse for wearing hats. And getting friends together for a little while.

Kinda like this . . .

Whoops, that was my birthday party from the summer. I can THINK about summer, though, right? And know that it will eventually come back? The snow WILL go away, it WILL!!

Meanwhile, we return you to our regularly scheduled program:

Brit likes to help me prepare seminary lessons. She's a very spiritual kitty. She also knows if she sits in the middle of everything, I have to pick her up and move her. (Note: I did NOT pose this shot, I promise.)