Who Doesn't Love Kittens?

Hello, Bob!

I know you don't like kittens. But I do. And Brent does.

So here they are:

Kitten #1, a boy:

Kitten #2, a girl:

So now, readers, make yourselves useful by helping us out. Submit your votes for kitten names on the polls, okay? Their official names will be released on Saturday. Because it's Brent's birthday on Saturday, and he loves kittens.

Missing My Baby

I've been working on a new website for my photography business, and found myself in need of a certain type of photo in just a certain size. I found this one of Nate that I haven't ever used, and I happen to think it fits his personality quite perfectly. By the way -- there was no Photoshop used on those eyes of his. They are seriously just like that! He will be in Florida for two more weeks. Can I last that long? I miss him!

Flying pebbles

In the past few weeks, our poor Odyssey has fallen victim to very small, yet powerful, flying pebbles.

First up: the windshield. Little rocks make loud noises, you know, when traveling at high speeds. Was the windshield lucky enough to sustain a mere rock chip? No. A little bullet hole-like damage quickly spread into a large crack.

And yesterday, a dude and his weed whacker kicked up what I assume were very small pebbles that happened to hit the passenger side window just perfectly, causing it to shatter instantly and completely. This was rather frightening, as Ro was sitting in the seat, and we were mighty happy that he didn't get hurt.

I offer up major props and gratitude now to Techna Glass, who showed up right on time, in my driveway, and replaced both pieces of glass in under an hour.

There. Now you know how exciting our summer has been. And you might not realize this, but I typed out this entire post on my iPhone. Forgive the typos which certainly exist.

Celebrating

Frank, my stepdad, who is a fantastic artist and architect, drew this picture for me and made a custom card at the end of my active treatment. It joined flowers, fake champagne, several meals out and other celebrations to mark the end of chemo, radiation, and the eradication of the cancer. Isn't it a great card?

I'll be moving all future cancer posts here, and will move the old ones over eventually, too, and will tag them with a cancer tag in case you really want to read those adventures. I also need that other web address to start up my photography blog!

New 'Do

Here I am (on the right, of course), with my sister, Nancy. We went out with our Mutti to celebrate Mother's Day, and this is one of the first pictures I have of myself with my new hair.

I feel almost totally comfortable these days going out with my short hair, and I'll tell you proudly that more than one woman has checked me out. That's right. And I appreciate it, my lady friends.

I think my hair looks a lot like Mr. Heatmiser's, especially if I don't put any gel in it:

And it really looks like Ryan's (from The Office), but without the sideburns:


I am pleased to report that I seem to have almost a mullet. I plan to see George soon for a mullet consultation and will report back very soon with his mullet handling advice.

Until then, I think I'll pull a Marcia Brady and give my locks 100 brushes. Probably won't take too long, but I'll enjoy the process.

Kittens vs. Mommy

My niece, Jocelyn, is a true animal lover. I think that if she had her choice, she would fill her home with furry creatures. Hence, she is a girl after my own heart! I think she likes to visit my house, and while I'd like to think it's because she loves her Aunt Kristy, I think the truth is really that she likes Aunt Kristy's pets.

Check out this video of her with the kittens, and notice what she says at the very end when her mom, Mardee, reappears:

Plus Two

Oh, Merrill Family. Why would you do this to yourselves? You have been through a divorce. A move. Chemo. Radiation. And you punish yourself with ... kittens?!?

Yes, Renee and Jenn, I am talking to you!

My friends. Perhaps you don't understand that kittens are one of life's greatest rewards for a Job Well Done. Is there a greater pleasure than a kitten pouncing on your toes which are buried under the covers? Or having one ride in your purse so peacefully during your Costco excursion? Or listening to a tiny kitten purr while the dogs nose and lick and paw them all over?

When we left Texas, we didn't know we'd be living in Utah for good, and we left five kittens behind. Nate was particularly attached to those kittens, and has been begging for replacements ever since. But we had three adult cats already (two of whom flew on a plane to get here), and we couldn't handle any more pets. There might even be a law. However, our Emme disappeared in August, and our beloved Pierre was hit and killed by a car the same week I started chemo. That wasn't a fun week.

With our limited kitten knowledge, we are guessing that the orange one is male and the gray one is female, but we can't be certain until they go to the vet next week. Do you have name suggestions? Jocey (my three year-old niece) suggested "Mina" and "Boots," and I thought those names were awfully cute, especially coming from such a little girl.

If you are not a fan of kittens, please accept my apologies for the many future posts and photos of kittens.

If you are a fan of kittens, do you have name suggestions?

Frank's Fondue

Frank, having lived in France for several years, is sort of an expert when it comes to fondue. He is very particular about the preparation: the cheese (he weighs it), the wine (I know nothing about it), and even the bread has to be just so (I don't know how to say that in French, or I would, because it seems like there should be a perfect French expression for "just so." Cousin David? A little help here?)

So when Mom & Frank invited us for dinner and asked what we wanted, I requested Frank's Fondue. I have the recipe, and on my recipe card, it says, "Frank's Fon-Doo," or something like that, which is supposed to guide my pronunciation. I speak French with a German accent, though, which I'm certain is highly offensive to Franklin.

I made Frank's recipe once, and it was not good. However, his was spectacular. I would post it here, but it is in my recipe box, which is in a box that has still not been unpacked. I shall request it just for you and will post it soon.

Nate has loved being in the kitchen, working right in the middle of everything since he was very little, and he was really into the fondue prep. Ro, however, was not so into it, and requested orange cheese, which is forbidden in the Ferguson home. We will make a batch of our own very soon ... if I can find our fondue pot.

Princess Hair

Harper and I used to compare our princess hair. These days, she's kind enough to say, "Kiki, your hair is growing!" every time I see her.

For her fourth birthday, she was treated to a precious few pink hair extensions courtesy of George, my friend and our family's hairdresser.

I tried to persuade George to add a few extensions to my crew cut, but he said I have to be a little patient. Maybe in the fall, he said. Or maybe, just maybe, I will love having short hair so much that I'll never go back to that high-maintenance lifestyle!

That is Correct

Poor Christopher. Every day, he comes home from school and somehow thinks that I will forget to remind him of his daily duties: emptying the dishwasher, doing his homework, and taking out the garbage. The weekends tend to be a catch-all, when I can ask him to do random tasks just because he has been blessed with the privilege of living here, and he is generally compliant.

But today, as he loaded the dishwasher (knowing he'd also be the one to empty it later), he sighed and said, "Child labor is illegal, but parents have found a way around that law. They call it 'chores.'"