Can you steal someone else's traditions?
Apr. 12th, 2009 08:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emskLike any crazy cat lady with new cats, my conversation revolves around Boomer and Tigra much more than it should. It's been a fortnight now, and they are shaping up into lovely cats. No litter tray accidents yet, no actual squabbles, nothing broken furniture-wise, nothing broken kitten-wise (although Tigra has lemminged through the banisters twice...)
However, they are in my black books this morning. It is 8.19am on Easter Sunday, and I would like to be asleep, especially as I have to work this afternoon. The kittens woke up well before 7am, demanding breakfast and PLAAAY and breakfast and PLAAY and purr, purr, why aren't you getting up, ooh, lets chase each other!! runrunrun POUNCE beat up other kitten violently FLEEE runrunrun POUNCE roll around LEAP ON HUMAN BED AND CHASE THEIR TOES runrunrun up the hallway down the hallway LEAP ON THE BED AND ATTACK HUMAN LEGS, run off..
I gave up trying to sleep eventually. I've had six hours, that will have to do. The kittens are now in the lounge with me, Tobermory is presumably still snoring, Boomer is trying to kill the kitten climber thing (scratching post with platforms) and Tigra is chasing balls.
Little buggers.
It has in all other respects been a good weekend. Friday we had people over for dinner*, Pstyken and Colitis stayed over in order to be able to kill zombies until stupid a.m. Last night, Thaqui arrived with the makings of Long Island Iced Tea, and being sensible adults, no-one drove after that, so some amazingly dire movies were watched, and Thaqui and Pstyken are crashed out in various spare rooms. I'd gone to bed about 1am, what with work the next morning. I believe Tobermory crawled in to join me about four... Colitis is pondering joining us again tonight, and probably some more zombie killing is planned.
Growing up, there was a couple in Mum's congregation who always seemed to have revolving guests. MrsM became a by-word for her hospitality; there was always plentiful food, probably a few guests, and you knew if you were stuck for somewhere to stay in an emergency, she'd always, always help you out. Their children's friends were welcome to stay over (with reasonable warning, of course), and it was a rare weekend that at least two random extras weren't staying at their home.
Mum has commented a couple of times that I seem to be the MrsM of our group. I always loved being at MrsM's house, even when I grew up enough to acknowledge that it wasn't all sweetness and light. She was sometimes taken for granted and forced to accommodate people she didn't like; being expected to feed a load of extras at short notice can be expensive; sometimes you need space to yourself; laundry for endless spare beds takes forever; and so on and so forth. I remember asking Mum, once, if MrsM had always been snarky, or if I'd simply grown up enough to register the existence of sarcasm where previously it flew right over my head. (It was age related, she'd always had the sarcastic streak and I hadn't been old enough to tell.) This didn't alter my liking for her, really - even with the snark, she was good company. (For that matter, my sense of humour has always leaned towards the snarky, where Mum's doesn't.) She still asks after me via Mum, and unlike many in the congregation I left, seems genuinely pleased that I'm happy.
I might not be the MrsM of my generation, but it's something I always wanted the chance to be. Admittedly, the fact that everyone gathers here is largely due to the fact we have an actual house with spare rooms, where the majority of our friends are flatting, so we're the obvious choice of location for any gathering. That doesn't alter my enjoyment of it. As far as I can tell, our friends are happy to invite themselves over, secure in the knowledge that there will probably be excessive amounts of dinner anyway. I tend to leave the beds made up (the sheets go straight back on the beds they came off once they're clean and dry), so it's no hassle for someone to stay over unexpectedly. And I like it that way.
* And I was informed by all present that I didn't make enough cheese/herb naan bread - it was really REALLY good and vanished rapidly.
However, they are in my black books this morning. It is 8.19am on Easter Sunday, and I would like to be asleep, especially as I have to work this afternoon. The kittens woke up well before 7am, demanding breakfast and PLAAAY and breakfast and PLAAY and purr, purr, why aren't you getting up, ooh, lets chase each other!! runrunrun POUNCE beat up other kitten violently FLEEE runrunrun POUNCE roll around LEAP ON HUMAN BED AND CHASE THEIR TOES runrunrun up the hallway down the hallway LEAP ON THE BED AND ATTACK HUMAN LEGS, run off..
I gave up trying to sleep eventually. I've had six hours, that will have to do. The kittens are now in the lounge with me, Tobermory is presumably still snoring, Boomer is trying to kill the kitten climber thing (scratching post with platforms) and Tigra is chasing balls.
Little buggers.
It has in all other respects been a good weekend. Friday we had people over for dinner*, Pstyken and Colitis stayed over in order to be able to kill zombies until stupid a.m. Last night, Thaqui arrived with the makings of Long Island Iced Tea, and being sensible adults, no-one drove after that, so some amazingly dire movies were watched, and Thaqui and Pstyken are crashed out in various spare rooms. I'd gone to bed about 1am, what with work the next morning. I believe Tobermory crawled in to join me about four... Colitis is pondering joining us again tonight, and probably some more zombie killing is planned.
Growing up, there was a couple in Mum's congregation who always seemed to have revolving guests. MrsM became a by-word for her hospitality; there was always plentiful food, probably a few guests, and you knew if you were stuck for somewhere to stay in an emergency, she'd always, always help you out. Their children's friends were welcome to stay over (with reasonable warning, of course), and it was a rare weekend that at least two random extras weren't staying at their home.
Mum has commented a couple of times that I seem to be the MrsM of our group. I always loved being at MrsM's house, even when I grew up enough to acknowledge that it wasn't all sweetness and light. She was sometimes taken for granted and forced to accommodate people she didn't like; being expected to feed a load of extras at short notice can be expensive; sometimes you need space to yourself; laundry for endless spare beds takes forever; and so on and so forth. I remember asking Mum, once, if MrsM had always been snarky, or if I'd simply grown up enough to register the existence of sarcasm where previously it flew right over my head. (It was age related, she'd always had the sarcastic streak and I hadn't been old enough to tell.) This didn't alter my liking for her, really - even with the snark, she was good company. (For that matter, my sense of humour has always leaned towards the snarky, where Mum's doesn't.) She still asks after me via Mum, and unlike many in the congregation I left, seems genuinely pleased that I'm happy.
I might not be the MrsM of my generation, but it's something I always wanted the chance to be. Admittedly, the fact that everyone gathers here is largely due to the fact we have an actual house with spare rooms, where the majority of our friends are flatting, so we're the obvious choice of location for any gathering. That doesn't alter my enjoyment of it. As far as I can tell, our friends are happy to invite themselves over, secure in the knowledge that there will probably be excessive amounts of dinner anyway. I tend to leave the beds made up (the sheets go straight back on the beds they came off once they're clean and dry), so it's no hassle for someone to stay over unexpectedly. And I like it that way.
* And I was informed by all present that I didn't make enough cheese/herb naan bread - it was really REALLY good and vanished rapidly.
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