Banner, My Little Helper

 

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.

This post contains support‑the‑blog links. If you choose to purchase through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting Around Dusty Roads — it truly helps keep this little corner of the internet going.

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.

Kitty Shenanigans: The Continuing Saga of Life With Two Cats

 

Cat Wrestling to start the day off right. What more can be in store for me?

The Morning Mayhem Begins

What a morning. My two tiny terrors have been in rare form. Usually the day starts the same way: breakfast for both kitties, followed by a full‑speed race around the condo. I try not to be in my recliner when this happens, because it’s one of the main sections of their racetrack. They’re just as likely to launch off my head — leaving tufts of my gray hair behind — as they are to springboard off the back of the chair. It’s truly a dangerous place to sit once they’re wound up.

The Post‑Race “Recovery” Phase

After that comes the recovery phase. Once they’ve burned off that first burst of morning energy, they each find a spot for a quick nap while they wait for me to clean the litter box. They supervise this process closely. As soon as I finish, they each reclaim a box — I’ll spare you the explanation. Then they get their morning treats, and normally I get a little peace to write, read, or even sneak in a nap of my own.

Balboa, Agent of Desktop Chaos

But today? Today they rewrote the script.

It started with Balboa. As soon as he finished breakfast, he came over to my desk to “see what I was doing.” He stretched out across the desktop, looking perfectly relaxed. That was just to lull me into a false sense of security. The moment I moved my hand from mouse to keyboard, a paw shot out like lightning. He grabbed for the mouse. I grabbed back. My typing came to a halt. Balboa was not deterred. His paw moved from mouse to keyboard, and the next thing I knew, I had a whole blog post of kitty gibberish.

This back‑and‑forth went on for a while. I was getting nothing done, and Balboa was delighted with himself. Fortunately, he has a short attention span and eventually wandered off to find some other form of mischief.

Banner vs. The Fitbit: A Rivalry for the Ages

Enter Banner.

My Fitbit was on the charger — and somehow, Banner knew. My Fitbit is his nemesis. He tries to chew it off my arm, he finds it when I hide it in the medicine cabinet during my shower, and no matter which charging station I use, he senses it. He has some sort of sixth sense for wearable technology.

Thus began my efforts to distract a determined agent of chaos. Banner has a much longer attention span than Balboa, and this was turning into a full morning of distraction. Cat 1, Hooman 0. The Fitbit barely survived.

Eventually, I gave up trying to charge it and put it back on my wrist. Banner gave me a tail flip — the feline equivalent of a rude gesture — followed by a disgusted look before wandering off, muttering under his breath the whole way.

Temporary Peace… Probably

Back to my work… I hope.

I quietly snuck the Fitbit back onto the charger. Both cats finally settled down for their morning nap/recharge cycle. And now I wait, wondering what they’ll dream up next.

Tiger Panther box war

Living with cats is like living with tiny, furry project managers — always supervising, never helpful, and absolutely convinced the world revolves around their schedule.

Banner and Balboa would like you to know this post contains affiliate links. If you buy through them, I may earn a small commission — which they insist should go toward treats, toys, or whatever they’ve decided to knock off the counter next.


 

Introducing MeoWant-A Cat Centric Partnership

MeoWant Joins the Family

I got invited to be an affiliate for Meowant, a company that leans into the techy side of cat care — think automated litter boxes, smart cleaning systems, a sleek pet fountain, air purifiers, and a grooming kit. If you’re someone who loves automation and gadgets that make pet care easier, they’ve got a surprisingly robust lineup. Check out the full line up here

A must have litter box for your cat. Makes cleanup a breeze

Around here, we’re still using our trusty old fountain (it has a few good years left in it), and automated litter boxes aren’t the best match for Banner’s… creative output style. But plenty of cat households swear by automated setups, and Meowant has several options for people who like their pet gear on the high‑tech side.

For now, I’m giving them a cozy little spot in Dusty’s Picks — a soft hello while we see where the partnership goes and whether their catalog grows into something that fits our home even better down the line. In the meantime thier web page has lots of cute cat pictures. Check it out here.


 

National Cat Lady Day: I Was Born Ready

 

Long live the Cat Ladies.
Endorsed by the Feline Nap Authority.

 National Cat Lady Day

Today is National Cat Lady Day, which is really just a polite way of saying “the cats were already in charge, but now it’s official.”

Banner and Balboa have graciously allowed me to observe the holiday by:

  • Providing snacks on demand
  • Serving as a heated lap accessory
  • Accepting that every chair is a cat chair
  • And remembering that I am merely the staff

If you, too, have ever canceled plans because a cat fell asleep on you, congratulations — you’re celebrating correctly.

Long live the Cat Ladies.
Endorsed by the Feline Nap Authority.

 


 

A Connecticut Castle on a Hill


Gillette Castle: A Whimsical Hilltop Hideaway With Paw Prints in the Woodwork

There’s something magical about arriving at Gillette Castle and realizing it’s not just a stone fortress on a hill — it’s a window into the wonderfully eccentric mind of William Gillette, the actor who brought Sherlock Holmes to life. I went in expecting history and architecture. I did not expect to find cat carvings tucked into the woodwork… and only later did I learn that Gillette once lived here with seventeen cats. Suddenly, all those little details I photographed made perfect sense.

Cats of Gillette Castle

As someone who can barely get anything done with two cats “helping,” I can’t imagine managing a castle with seventeen furry supervisors. Banner and Balboa regularly sabotage my productivity — one breaks mice, the other warms his behind on the stovetop grill — so Gillette’s ability to build an entire castle while surrounded by a feline army feels downright heroic.

But that’s the charm of Gillette Castle: it’s grand, yes, but it’s also deeply personal, whimsical, and full of surprises. And once you know the man behind it, every odd detail becomes a clue in the story he left behind.


My First Glimpse: A Castle From the River

Long before I ever set foot inside Gillette Castle, I saw it from the water. I was on a Connecticut River cruise, standing on the deck, when the guide pointed up to a stone silhouette perched high above the trees. From that angle — looking up from the river — the castle feels almost mythical, like something out of a New England folktale. I remember thinking, I need to get up there.

That first glimpse stayed with me. So later, when I finally went searching for a way to reach the castle itself, it felt like following a breadcrumb trail from the river to the hilltop.


The Grounds: Stone Bridges, Quiet Ponds, and Wandering Paths

One of the loveliest surprises about Gillette Castle is that the experience begins before you reach the castle. The grounds are sprawling and peaceful, with winding trails that lead you through the woods and along the hillside. On the way up, there’s a beautiful stone bridge arching over a small pond — the kind of spot that makes you stop, breathe, and take a photo even if you weren’t planning to.

stone bridge over a quiet pond at Gillette Castle State Park in early spring”

The pathways twist and meander, offering little glimpses of the castle through the trees as you climb. It’s the kind of place where you can wander without a plan, discovering quiet corners, scenic overlooks, and bits of Gillette’s personality tucked into the landscape.

By the time you reach the castle itself, you’ve already stepped into his world.


Who Was William Gillette?

Before you can appreciate the castle, you have to appreciate the man — because Gillette Castle isn’t just a home, it’s a personality carved in stone.

William Gillette was a stage actor best known for portraying Sherlock Holmes, and he approached life with the same mix of precision, curiosity, and theatrical flair that made his Holmes famous. He was an inventor, a tinkerer, a showman, and a man who loved comfort just as much as he loved drama. If something could be improved, he improved it. If something could be made whimsical, he made it whimsical. And if something could be designed to amuse his cats… well, he absolutely designed it to amuse his cats.

Gillette didn’t just build a house on a hill. He built a world that reflected exactly who he was — clever, eccentric, playful, and just a little mysterious.


Why It Was Originally Called the Seventh Sister

Before it became “Gillette Castle,” the estate had a quieter, more poetic name: The Seventh Sister. The castle sits on the southernmost hill of a chain known locally as the Seven Sisters, a series of ridges overlooking the Connecticut River. Gillette built his home on the seventh hill — the final “sister” — and named his estate accordingly.

Only later, when the state purchased the property, did the public nickname “Gillette Castle” become official. But the original name still lingers in the landscape, like a whisper from the past.


Inside the Mind of a Whimsical Genius

Once you step inside, you realize quickly that Gillette didn’t build a castle to impress people — he built a castle to amuse himself. Every corner has a surprise, every detail has a story, and every room feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Tiffany Lamps Made From Broken Bottles

Gillette loved color and light, but he didn’t want ordinary stained glass. Instead, he commissioned lamps made from broken bottle fragments, arranged like jewels. They glow with a warm, uneven shimmer — imperfect, playful, and completely unique.

A Heated Bed (Yes, Really)

Long before electric blankets were a thing, Gillette engineered a heated bed. Comfort was an art form to him, and he wasn’t shy about innovating.

Secret Doors, Trick Locks, and Mechanical Oddities

Gillette designed all the castle’s locks himself — and they’re famously confusing. Some doors slide. Some pivot. Some open in ways that make you question your spatial awareness. It’s part stagecraft, part engineering, and part mischievous delight.


🐾 The Cats of Gillette Castle

This is where the castle becomes a home — and where my photos suddenly gained meaning.

Seventeen Cats and a Man Who Loved Every One of Them

Gillette adored cats. Not casually — wholeheartedly. At one point, he lived with seventeen of them, each with their own personality and privileges. They roamed the castle freely, supervised guests, and likely contributed to the same kind of “help” Banner and Balboa provide me.

Cat Carvings and Feline Motifs

The carved woodwork I photographed — the scroll work with cats tucked into the details — wasn’t decorative whimsy. It was intentional. Gillette incorporated feline imagery throughout the home as a tribute to the animals he loved.

Custom Cat Toys and Cat‑Friendly Features

Gillette didn’t stop at carvings. He designed custom toys, cozy perches, and playful features for his cats. It’s the kind of devotion that makes you feel instantly connected to him.


Visiting Today

Gillette Castle is one of those places that feels both grand and intimate. The stone exterior looks imposing from a distance, but inside, the home is warm, quirky, and full of personality. The views over the Connecticut River are spectacular, the trails are peaceful, and the house itself is a treasure hunt of oddities.

 

It’s the kind of place where you can spend an hour or an entire afternoon, depending on how much you love details — and I am absolutely a detail person.


A Castle With Heart (and Paw Prints)

Gillette Castle isn’t just a historic site. It’s a portrait of a man who loved creativity, comfort, and cats in equal measure. Once you know his story, every odd feature becomes a clue, every carving becomes a wink, and every room feels like a page from his life.

And honestly?
As someone who writes in the early morning and mid‑afternoon — the only times when my own cats aren’t actively sabotaging my workflow — I might appreciate Gillette more than most. He built a castle around his cats. I’m building a blog around mine. It feels like a very New England kind of kinship.