If Looks Could Kill

This is the look I get from the ne’er-do-well when it’s time to close the blinds and she’s not quite ready to be done spying on the courtyard. I’m not dead, thank goodness… but certainly not from lack of trying on Holly’s part.

I’m not sure I want to know what exactly she’s contemplating …

Fright by Night

So, I got up in the middle of the night – or early morning, however you want to look at it, and went into the kitchen for a drink and a snack. Trying to keep from waking the entire household, which can result in a cacophony of barks from less than astute guard dogs, I kept the lights out and just meandered through to the fridge. I think my cat the ne’er-do-well is trying to kill me. Poised like a demon in the dark, she just sat quietly and no doubt had a good laugh when, after finally seeing her and those glowing eyes staring at me like some otherworldly creature, I dropped my glass of milk … which subsequently shattered on the floor with a resounding crash and splattered pretty much the entire kitchen. Who was it that said “no use crying over spilled milk?”  I’d like to wring that person’s neck, because cleaning up spilled milk at 2:30 a.m. to a canine concerto all because of a demon cat with a wicked sense of humor is definitely a curse-word laden undertaking, if not exactly tear-filled.

I lightened the picture up so you could see her better, but imagine seeing this out of the corner of your eye in the dark!