Category Archives: Life

Banner, My Little Helper

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Banner the cat gets ready to start his day with a cup of Joe.

A Day in the Life (With Cats, of Course)

My days are pretty full. A “typical” day — if such a thing exists — might include some housework. Believe it or not, I love cleaning my kitchen. I spend so much time in there that making it sparkle feels like restoring my natural habitat.

Then come the smaller chores: taking out the trash, scooping the kitty litter, doing laundry. Somewhere in there I carve out an hour or two with my resident lap cat, Balboa, to read a chapter or two from whatever book currently has its claws in me.

And of course, I always make time to write. Sometimes it’s a full post, sometimes it’s just a snippet to be polished later. In between all that, I pay bills, run errands, and do the weekly grocery run.

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The Chores I Don’t Love

What I do not enjoy are those little unplanned chores — the ones that ambush you. The smoke alarm starts chirping at 3 a.m. because the battery is dying. The toilet won’t stop running because it needs a new flapper (yes, I replace those too).

But the absolute worst offender?

Changing a light bulb.

The moment I drag out my ladder, all those ridiculous light‑bulb jokes start running through my head.
How many software engineers does it take to screw in a light bulb? None — it’s a hardware problem.
You know the type. How many have you heard?

My Ongoing Feud With the Ladder

So why does such a simple task bother me? One word: ladder. I can trip over my own feet with both of them firmly on the ground. When I use my step stool to reach the top shelf in the kitchen, I hold my breath. It’s only one step, but still…

The older I get, the more convinced I am that the ladder is out to get me. I even upgraded — tossed the old wooden one and bought a heavy‑duty rubber model that could probably support a small elephant. It’s sturdy, reliable, and still absolutely terrifies me.

Enter Banner: Supervisor of All Heights

But not my little helper.

Banner is fascinated. The moment I lock the ladder open, he’s right under my feet. Hmmm… could this be part of why I fear falling? Once the ladder is set, I’m ready to climb — in theory. In reality, I suddenly discover dozens of “urgent” tasks at ground level. Procrastination is an art form, and I am a master.

Banner, however, is not. He inspects each step with great seriousness, climbing all the way to the top. Once there, he surveys the kitchen like a tiny orange foreman. It is now his personal domain, and he is the supervisor of all that happens here. If only he had hands and opposable thumbs.

The Light Bulb Gets Changed… Just Not by Me

Did the light bulb get changed?
Yes. Yes, it did — but not by me or Banner.

My much younger, very kind neighbor came to rescue the old lady in distress. In minutes, the old bulbs were out, the new ones were in, and the crisis was over. As he stepped off the ladder he said, “Nice ladder — where’d you get that? And can I pet the cat?”

And just like that, the job was done.

AARP Says 30 Days to declutter… My Kitchen Strongly Disagrees

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The Kitchen Declutter project begins. Doesn't look too bad if you don't open the cabinet doors

Making Peace With a Slow Declutter

I knew I’d never complete the AARP decluttering challenge in the 30 days they promised. So far, the only room that moved at their suggested pace was the bathroom. The kitchen? That beast took me two full weeks. It’s technically “finished” now only because I’m assigning the cupboards that open into the dining room to the dining room. They really belong to the kitchen, but at this point I’ll take any help I can get.

The Cookbook Situation (Yes, It’s a Situation)

I’ve sold a few things on Facebook Marketplace and listed all my old cookbooks there as well. Right now, they’re just piled up waiting for a buyer. I have this funny quirk: I cannot throw out books. I may end up giving these cookbooks away, but tossing them in the trash? Absolutely not. It would feel like throwing out my own child.

The Hall Closet/Pantry: My Biggest Victory So Far

The biggest project so far was the hall closet/pantry. I’ve reorganized it as much as I can for now. I’m still debating a few items, so I’m letting things settle to see if the current setup works for me. I bought new canisters for flour, sugar, and other staples so I can actually see what I have — no more half‑open bags lurking in the shadows. These should keep everything fresher, too.

Remember what that closet looked like when I started? Look at it now. I’m genuinely proud.

Before. Is it a closet or a pantry. I don’t think it knows

After- A pantry reorganized and cleaned out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Banner and Balboa’s “Help”

Banner and Balboa gave the newly organized pantry — which has always been off‑limits — their full approval. Of course, that may be because they managed to sneak in and “help” while the door was open. They’ve both protested now that the door is closed again. I’ll admit I’m not as worried if they manage to get in these days, since I no longer have nails and tools scattered all over the floor.

The Spice Cabinet: A Whole Other Adventure

The other big project wasn’t the mugs so much as the spices. Whew. What a mess. I did some serious purging because most of the one‑offs were expired anyway — things I bought for one recipe and never made again. Here’s the before and after of the spices. Much better.

Before, A crowded and confused spice cabinet. A bit disorganized but functional

 

 

After. Still full but all organized by spice and type

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next Up: The Bedroom and Closets

The next part of the decluttering project heads to the bedroom, closets, and personal spaces. My bedroom is a mixed bag. I’ve already cleaned out one nightstand, but I have a huge cabinet that holds my winter coats and photography paraphernalia. One closet is pretty organized but full — it holds all my luggage, and it gets pulled out often because the HVAC unit is in the back and needs yearly service.

The second closet is… a nightmare. I’ve had good intentions, but I always get overwhelmed. I’m not sure how far I’ll get. I can feel my momentum and enthusiasm slowly dying, but I can say this: a start has been made. If I can maintain what I’ve already done, I can always pick the project back up.

But I say this firmly: No, AARP. This is not a 30‑day project unless you’re doing a superficial clean‑out.

And Now… The Grand Finale

Press onward, intrepid declutterer — the closet awaits, and it isn’t going to clean itself.
Behold… the beast I’m tackling next.

 

 

 

Certified Innocent (According to Them)

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Life with cats is nothing of not entertaining.

The Innocence Project

It’s time for an installment of the The Banner & Balboa Show: Starring Two Cats and One Exhausted Human

The Quirky Lives of Banner and Balboa: A Household Run by Cats

Every cat owner knows the truth: you don’t live with cats — you simply coexist with tiny, furry agents of chaos who believe your home is their personal amusement park. And honestly? They’re not wrong.

Scrolling through Facebook the other day, I saw a meme that said:
“You’re not a cat owner until you hear something crash at 3 a.m. and decide it’s a problem for tomorrow.”
And I thought… yes. Yes, that is the entire biography of my household.

Because if there’s one thing Banner and Balboa excel at, it’s quirks. Endless, baffling, hilarious quirks.

The Morning Indy 500

Every morning, without fail, the boys kick off their day with what I can only describe as the Feline Grand Prix.

The track layout changes daily, but the highlights include:

  • Up the cat tree
  • Over the TV stand
  • A dramatic leap over the cat fountain
  • A full‑speed sprint down the hall
  • A victory lap into the bedroom
  • And then… repeat.
    And repeat.
    And repeat.

Coffee doesn’t wake me up.
The thunder of tiny paws does.

Banner: The Social Butterfly With a Heated Seat Obsession

Banner is the friendliest cat on the planet. He would greet a burglar with a head‑butt and a purr. Delivery drivers? His best friends. Random dog walking by? He’s already planning a meet‑and‑greet. I swear, if I ever lose him, he’ll be in someone’s yard introducing himself like he’s running for office.

But his real quirk?
The stove.

The moment the oven turns on, Banner materializes like a summoned demon and plants himself directly on the stovetop. Not near it. Not beside it. On it. Because apparently nothing warms his royal backside quite like preheating to 350°.

I’ve tried explaining the concept of “danger” to him. He disagrees.

Balboa: The Dramatic Artist, Professional Nap Innovator

Balboa, meanwhile, is a creature of comfort and questionable decisions.

One afternoon, I walked into the kitchen and found him curled up — peacefully, smugly — inside a glass bowl. A bowl meant for salad. A bowl that was absolutely not meant to contain a 14‑pound panther‑cat. But there he was, looking like a furry croissant, proud of his new life choice.

He also believes the bed belongs entirely to him. If I get up in the night, he immediately stretches out to full length like he’s claiming territory for the crown. Returning to bed becomes a negotiation.

The 3 A.M. Symphony

Every cat owner knows the sound.

That unmistakable, horrifying, adrenaline‑spiking noise:
Huuuuurk… huuuurk… HUUURK.

Forget alarm clocks. The sound of a cat about to puke will launch you out of bed with Olympic speed. Too bad it always happens at 3 a.m., when your brain is still buffering.

And of course, once you’re up, Banner and Balboa assume it’s breakfast time. Or playtime. Or “let’s stare at the wall for no reason” time.

Doors? Cabinets? Mere Suggestions.

Need a bit of light? Banner will turn it on for you. He’s mastered the art of flipping the switch with his teeth, leaving behind tiny bite marks as his signature. Nothing like walking into a room at 3 a.m. to find the lights blazing and Banner looking very pleased with his electrical handiwork.

Light Switch with Banner’s tooth mark

Both boys have mastered the art of opening things that should remain closed.

Cabinet doors? Easy.
Bedroom doors? Child’s play.
Privacy? A myth.

When Balboa was little, he used to squeeze under the counter next to the dishwasher like a tiny mouse. Now that he’s too big to fit, he simply opens the cabinet under the sink and climbs in that way.

Banner, meanwhile, sits outside the opening like he’s watching a nature documentary. He can stare at that hole for hours, waiting for Balboa to reappear like a groundhog predicting spring.

Life With Cats: A Comedy, A Mystery, A Warm Fuzzy Mess

Living with Banner and Balboa means:

  • Never eating alone
  • Never sleeping alone
  • Never having a moment of silence
  • And never, ever being bored

Their quirks are ridiculous, inconvenient, and occasionally hazardous to my sanity — but they’re also the reason the house feels alive.

Because at the end of the day, nothing beats a warm purr, a head‑butt, or the sight of a cat proudly sitting in a bowl he absolutely does not fit in.

Life with cats isn’t perfect.
But it’s perfectly theirs.

 

Rambling Thoughts & A Little Life Update

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🌟 Because life doesn’t follow a theme — and neither does this blog

If you’ve been reading Around Dusty Roads lately, you’ve probably noticed that there isn’t exactly a theme happening. One day it’s cats, the next it’s a local adventure, then a recipe, then some random daily trivia. That’s retirement for you — footloose, fancy free, and no longer tied to a work schedule or those precious two weeks of vacation.

These days, I just enjoy jotting down whatever crosses my mind and sharing the little slices of life that make me smile (or roll my eyes). And for you youngsters out there, consider this a preview of what might be waiting for you when you finally escape the daily grind. Whether that’s a good thing… well, jury’s still out.

🌱 Projects, Experiments, and the Things That Didn’t Quite Pan Out

I’ll admit it — I’m still a little disappointed that Welcoming Haven didn’t take off the way I hoped. It was a solid idea; I just didn’t have the budget to push it where it needed to go. Same with my brief Etsy printable experiment. Let’s just say I’m much better at buying cute printables than designing them.

DoorDash had its moment too. It was fun… until it wasn’t. Once I factored in gas, maintenance, and the joy of climbing to third‑floor walkups with arthritis, the math stopped mathing. When I took a spill on a delivery run, that was my sign to wrap up that chapter.

So for now, no side gigs. Just me, my home projects, and the cats supervising everything I do.

📸 The Great Photo Tagging Marathon

One of my big undertakings is the massive photo‑tagging project. I’m working backward from Now and have made it to May 2021. Considering my media library goes back to January 2011, this should keep me entertained for a while. Maybe longer.

🧹 Decluttering: The Adventure Continues

Then there’s the decluttering saga. I’ve got boxes to donate, boxes to sell, and boxes that are destined for the trash — all currently cluttering my living space. But the cupboards are looking pretty good, and AARP swears I’ll be done in a few weeks. I’m choosing to believe them.

Part of my motivation comes from watching my sister deal with the mountain of stuff my mom left behind. I still have boxes from that era that I haven’t opened. Someday I’ll tackle them… probably when I reach the dining room. Until then, yes, the place looks a little like I’m auditioning for Hoarders: The Prequel.

🚶‍♀️ Health, Mobility, and a Dash of Pride

Now for the big topic: mobility. My arthritis has been getting worse, and while the hip replacement went well, I’m not eager to repeat the experience with my knee. I lost 25 pounds hoping it would help — and while I look better, my walking hasn’t improved much.

I’m seriously considering a walker. I still have the one from my surgery, but it’s not great for strolling around parks. A new one would let me load my camera on the seat and get back to exploring. The cane works, but juggling that and a camera is a circus act.

My pride is the real obstacle. I don’t want to admit I’ve reached the “walker stage.” But as the saying goes, pride goeth before a fall — and in my case, that might be more literal than I’d like.

Future Me?

🐾 And Through It All…

My days are full — projects, decluttering, mobility puzzles, and of course, the cats “helping” every step of the way. But one thing remains constant: I’ll keep sharing my rambling thoughts here on Around Dusty Roads.

Thanks for sticking with me through all the twists, turns, and experiments. And if you’ve got advice, stories, or your own retirement adventures to share, feel free to jump in. Even if I pretend I don’t want advice, I usually enjoy hearing it.

 

Daylight Saving Time: The Time Change We Just Can’t Shake

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It’s early March, which means two things in New England:

  1. We’re all pretending it’s spring even though the wind still bites.
  2. The annual Daylight Saving Time debate is warming up faster than the weather.

And because I can’t resist a good trivia rabbit hole, I stumbled across a Jeopardy clue that sums up our relationship with DST better than anything else:

Clue: To combat fuel shortages, Congress enacted this for almost 10 months in 1974, from January to October.
Category: “D” in American History
Value: $600

Yes — the answer is Daylight Saving Time.
We didn’t just “spring forward” that year. We practically launched ourselves into permanent daylight.

We Tried a Long-Term Relationship… It Didn’t Go Well

The idea wasn’t new. Allegedly, Benjamin Franklin pitched something similar to save candles. Germany used it during World War I to conserve fuel. And in 1974, during the energy crisis, Congress said, “Let’s try this full-time.”

Ten months later, after dark winter mornings and a nation full of cranky schoolkids, the experiment quietly ended. But the twice‑a‑year clock shuffle? That stuck around like a houseguest who never got the hint.

Every Year We Swear We’re Done With It

By now, the pattern is predictable.
Early March rolls in, and suddenly:

  • Congress floats a bill
  • Someone suggests permanent DST
  • Someone else suggests permanent Standard Time
  • Committees form
  • Studies are commissioned
  • We all complain
  • And nothing changes

It’s the legislative equivalent of “We should really get together sometime” — said with no intention of actually scheduling anything.

And Yet… Here We Are Again

Daylight Saving Time officially ends on the first Sunday in November, but the real cycle ends when we stop grumbling about it — which, let’s be honest, is never.

We tell ourselves it saves energy.
We tell ourselves it gives us more daylight.
We tell ourselves it’s tradition.

Mostly, we tell ourselves whatever gets us through that groggy Monday morning after the switch.

Countdown to the Clock Shuffle

So here we are, early March, inching toward the big weekend.
Coffee makers are bracing themselves.
Humans are sighing.
And the cats? Well…

Banner and Balboa are thrilled.

In their world, Daylight Saving Time is the greatest invention since the treat bag.

Breakfast arrives a whole hour earlier — a development they fully support and believe should be made permanent immediately.

If Congress ever needs motivation to finally pick a time and stick with it, they

should consult the feline lobby. Banner and Balboa have notes.

What About You?

Do you love the extra evening light, dread the clock change, or simply follow your pets’ lead and accept breakfast whenever it arrives?