Sights, Scenes and Travel of an everyday person

Category Archives: animals

Booms Before the Fourth of July: Why Are We Doing This Already?

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Vibrant Fourth of July fireworks lighting up the night sky with red, blue, and gold bursts.

A Holiday of Mixed Emotions

The Fourth of July has always been a holiday of mixed emotions for me. I can feel overwhelming pride in being an American — I still get choked up over the Star‑Spangled Banner — yet I can also cringe at some of the politics and the things our leaders do in the country’s name. I feel nostalgia for growing up in the country, where we set off firecrackers and small fireworks in wide‑open fields. Though even then, I never liked the loud bangs. If someone ever invents silent fireworks, I’ll be first in line.

Fireworks: The Part I No Longer Look Forward To

As I’ve gotten older, my fondness for fireworks has faded even more. They’re the main reason I no longer look forward to this most patriotic of holidays. My love for my country hasn’t changed, but do we really need to celebrate with explosions? The big town displays are beautiful — I’ll give them that — but the noise is another story. And it would be one thing if it were limited to the actual holiday. But it never is.

Every neighborhood seems to have that person who wants to set off mini‑fireworks and firecrackers just to make noise. They’re illegal in Massachusetts, but no one enforces it. The police say that by the time they arrive, no one “sees anything,” so it’s a waste of resources. Meanwhile, the noise starts in mid‑June and rolls on for weeks. If we must endure it, can’t we at least confine it to July 4th itself?

Pets, Babies, and the People Who Don’t Care

I hate watching my pets cower under furniture, refuse to eat, and slink around in fear because some unfeeling jerk drove to New Hampshire, bought illegal fireworks, and decided to terrorize the neighborhood. And it’s not just pets. Think of the poor parent who has finally gotten their newborn to sleep — that rare, precious moment of quiet — when suddenly BANG! The baby jolts awake, terrified, and the crying starts all over again. Mom or Dad has to begin the whole exhausting process from scratch because someone wanted to play amateur pyrotechnician.

At least when I was growing up, we set fireworks off in the middle of a field — not ten feet from someone else’s home.

Drone Display – American Eagle

There Are Better Options — Use Them

So yes, this is a rant. I was sitting here enjoying a quiet evening when the pyrotechnics started next door. The cats ran, I jumped, and now I have to close my slider, lose the evening breeze, and turn on the AC — which is bad for the environment and costs money. Add that to the list of reasons I’m over this tradition.

Stick to the big, sanctioned town displays — or better yet, switch to drone shows. They’re stunning, and no one’s pets or babies end up traumatized. But please, leave the neighborhoods in peace.

How about you — are the early fireworks driving you (and your pets) up the wall too?

 

A Heartfelt Thank You to My Readers and Supporters

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“A black cat and an orange cat perched side‑by‑side on their cat tree, looking like unlikely but perfect partners in crime.”

Getting closer

Why Your Support Matters More Than You Know

I wanted to take a moment to thank you — my readers, followers, friends, and family — for your continued support. Without you, this blog would be little more than a personal diary. With you, I get to travel the world from my desktop and share the journey.

When I was on the reader side of things, I never realized how much creators, podcasters, and bloggers rely on their followers. Your interactions help with rankings, visibility, and growth. For many creators, that growth is their livelihood.

I only dabble in monetizing at this point, so I’m not dependent on it — but I’d be lying if I said I don’t check my performance stats first thing every morning. I set goals for views and visitors, and every “Like” is a little celebration. Comments? Those absolutely make my day. When I hear from you, I know I’ve hit the mark.

I wanted to give you a peek into the world we bloggers and creators live in, and to tell you how much it means to have you here with me.

Thank you for stopping by.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blather.
Thank you for sharing my posts with your friends and family.

Banner, Balboa, and I appreciate it more than you know.

Colorado’s Wildlife Bridge Gets Its First Big Visitors

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Update : Colorado, Greenland Wildlife Overpass

Remember that wildlife overpass Colorado finished earlier this year — the one I wrote about when it opened? Well, it just had its first major moment. A trail cam captured three elk using the bridge, strolling across like they’ve been doing it forever.

It’s exactly what biologists hoped for: large animals choosing the safe route instead of darting across I‑25. And honestly, seeing it actually work feels like a little win for both wildlife and drivers.

Two bull elk standing in a grassy field with trees behind them, representing the wildlife now using Colorado’s new overpass.”

I’ve linked back to my original post if you want the full backstory.

Parkour Madness

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Two cats engaged in a friendly wrestling match, paws wrapped around each other.

The Night the Zoomies Took Flight

It was a parkour moment of madness.

It started like any normal night. We had our before‑bed play session, and then Banner climbed onto the top of my dresser and refused to come down — so we skipped the bedtime grooming with the glove. Fine. I got myself settled into bed, eyes just starting to get heavy, drifting toward sleep.

And then it happened.

Little cat feet came stampeding my way. A bounce on my feet at the end of the bed — just a quick pounce and gone. Then a mad scramble on the floor, some batting, some wrestling, and then… stillness.

I let my eyes close again.

That’s when I heard something behind me, followed by a blur of orange fluff skimming my head and landing with a whump right in front of my face. Eighteen pounds of fat cat. My heart was pounding. I swear I felt claws scrape my scalp (and maybe my face), but Banner simply repositioned himself on the nightstand and stared at me like a stone gargoyle.

Then something caught his attention.
His ears perked; he stretched up. Balboa was peeking over the footboard — and that was all it took.

 

They were off again, over the bed and into the living room. The parkour moment had passed.

The 3:30 a.m. Aftermath

Around 3:30 a.m., I made my nightly trip to the bathroom. Banner followed, calm as could be, as if the earlier chaos had never happened. When I came back to bed, Balboa had made himself comfortable — totally normal. But then Banner hopped up and took my side of the bed. No room for Mom.

But it was so unusual, I couldn’t even be mad. We had a late‑night, early‑morning cuddle session until Balboa realized his brother was next to him. Then off they went again, and I finally got the bed back.

Fitbit always tells me I don’t get restful sleep.
I wonder why.

 

🐾 A Trip Down Kitty Chaos Memory Lane

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Every now and then my blog stats take a little stroll through the archives, and today they dug up this gem from 2013. I had completely forgotten about it — back when the household was ruled by Buddy, Smoky, and Rocky.

If you think Banner and Balboa invented chaos, mischief, and dramatic flair… oh no. They’re simply carrying on a proud family tradition with great enthusiasm.

Enjoy this blast from the past — proof that my life has always been run by cats.

What are these cats thinking? Part 1

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Morning Rituals and Demanding Cats

It’s just another day in the life here at the old homestead. 3 cats, 1 human.

Stepping out of the shower I’m greeted by my “Bud”. Buddy has figured out that after the shower comes the hair dryer and he loves to have a blow dry to start the day.  A handsome fellow like Buddy has to look his best.

Senior Cat Smokey, aka Mr. Cranky Pants continues his demanding ways. I’m working, Buddy and Rocky are sleeping but what’s that sound? A soft pitiful meow! Looking around I see a small bundle of gray fur curled at my feet, big eyes staring intently, “meow”.

Only the tiniest of sounds. I ask what’s wrong and a paw reaches out to tap my leg. I stand and he uncurls, heading for the feeding station. Oh my, his bowl is only half full. Surely he will starve to death before it’s time for dinner.

Chaos on the Staircase

The laundry is on the first level. My condo, on the 2nd. As I open my door, arms full of clean clothes fresh from the dryer, a black and white streak nearly bowls me over and scoots down the stairs.

Dry laundry gets tossed onto the couch as the chase begins. A black tail with a white tip darts around the bottom of the stairs and disappears around the corner. Hitting the last step, the turn is sharp — just in time to see that tail vanish again at the far end of the hall.

I race down there. I don’t want Buddy running into one of the dogs that live here or being let outside. As I round the last corner I see …nothing!

My heart starts to pound. Slowly I begin climbing the stairs on that end of the hall. First flight, nothing, 2nd flight and there he is, sitting there on the landing, waiting for me.

I pick up his Majesty and cradle him in my arms. Back down the 2 flights of stairs, back down the long hall and back up the last flight to my unit.

I open the door, set the errant one on the floor and close the door very fast.

Laundry Folding: A Full‑Contact Sport

I return to the couch to start folding the nice , warm, clean clothes only to find Rocky has made a nest and is curled up on top of the pile. Now every time I try to pull out a towel or shirt or sock I have to unhook his possessive claw. I try to shoo him away but he only digs in harder. He doesn’t give up until the last item is folded. Then he stalks away, annoyed that his warm bed was “stolen” from him.

The Basket Bandit Strikes Again

Holiday2013 021 copy

I turn to put the folded clothes in my basket to carry them all to be put away and come face to face with his Majesty again. This time he’s taken up residence in the clothes basket.

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I give up leaving him to play jail bird in the basket while I carry the  stacks of folded clothes to the bedroom. Finally, everything is put away but they aren’t done with me yet.

Some things change… but cats being cats? That’s forever.