It's the RV Life for Me

by Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell

We live in an RV.

That's recreational vehicle for you wondering about the abbreviation. Our tenement on wheels is like the Big Green Rolling Turd in the Robin Williams movie RV. Without the backed up sewer, ripped off awning, and Class A drive-and-walk-around feature.

Our RV is the type you drive in, unhook, set up, and drive away.

The Quantrells are on an adventure.

Phase 1: Complete - The house is sold. Closed. Done.

Here's a chance to say "Thanks" to our 2 fantastic realtors, Stephanie Blehm and her son Kenny Blehm! They did a fantastic job. And they survived Kevin. I mean our process. Wink, wink.

Sorry, Kenny. Mabel thinks your card is tasty!

Phase 2: In Process - Live full-time in RV. Settle cats and selves in for the winter. Learn to grocery shop often for not much at all (no space). Wear the same clothes all the time (no space). Store rubber stamping supplies (no space). Eat outside with guests (no space).

Search for property and research choices.

Phase 3: In the Future - Build small home (tiny is too minute) on out-of-town property.

Our lives in a nutshell.

It's been great so far. Things did get a little tense every now and then (sorry, honey). We relieved ourselves of many possessions. That felt good. Now we can see what we really need to survive.

An outdoor catio is a definite NEED. Poor kitties have adjusted well, but opportunites for exercise in the RV are limited. And, well, I just need them-who-love-outside-time to be out in the fresh air. Soon, babies, daddy will have it all done. It's going to be great! I'll post pictures when it's complete.

Pumpkin season is here, and despite the lack of space indoors, the big beautiful world beyond the RV walls has plenty of space to display my favorite seasonal produce.

Anyone else out there living in an RV? Who else loves kitties, pumpkins, and fall? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Tornado Choices

 

by Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell

SO many events and changes going on in our lives right now, I'm having a difficult time choosing what to share. Let me just be honest and tell you that I've been avoiding posting just because of the vast plethora of options.

There. Got that off my chest.

It may take me months to fill you in. Or just a day. Let's see, shall we?

Life in Quantrell Land has been tornado-like in the sense that every day has been consumed with a whirlwind of activities, decisions, stressors, excitement, responsibilities, and cat fur. Truly. At times, we just had to grab something - anything - and hang on!

But it's ALL good.

Because now, we are living in the RV full-time with 2 insane cats. Which if you want some more truth, makes us the insane ones. 2 shedding, clawing, racing, sneaking, messy, loving, snuggly kitties. In. A. Small. RV.

This classifies as an adventure for sure. I kid you not.

When folks used to show up late for church spouting, "The cows (dog, birds, chickens, pigs, horse) got out and we had to chase them down," I would nod in agreement. But now I REALLY understand the stress and anxiety produced by such an event!

MONET, the sneak, wants out. Not just a little want, but an all-consuming desire of wanting out. Of the RV. The problem is Tiger, who is resident cat on the property. Tiger is very territorial and has been seen chasing off and beating up other cats. She's a sweetheart to adult people, but not other cats. So we don't want the girls out unless we can protect them from each other.

MONET, who cares she thinks. I want out. So she watches the door and our feet and if the door is open, ZIP, there she goes. Oh, the anxiety and interesting language on our part! She is having a great time, but we are watching for the arrival of Tiger and trying to lure the naughty girl back in...

Last Sunday, to connect you to what I was sharing, she did it again. Kevin was being nice to the moth and trying to get it out (before MONET, the best moth-catcher west of the Mississippi, ate it). MONET saw the open door - a mere 3-4 inches - and zip, she was out.

Church day. Big luncheon to prepare. Stuff to take (we still forgot the meat and cheese). A wonderful guest speaker to hear. Responbililty to get there first to unlock the building. And we had a loose cat.

I understand, all of you chasing-of-escapees people! Arrrggghhhh!

We won. This time. Even made it on time (except the meat and cheese, which had to arrive with our son).

So goes our tornado lifestyle. Adventures around every corner and open RV door.

By the way, RV doors are difficult even when not dodging the cat. Narrow, steep, metal shaking steps. I cringe just waiting for one of us to biff the landing and go sprawling face down in the gravel.

But for now, we are good. It's ALL good.

Because He is good.

Happy to See This!

Happy to see this new article, Into the World, in Missions Mosaic.

It has been a whirlwind summer!

Selling our home, moving into an RV, fixing the RV set-up, sorting belongings, giving away stuff, acclimatizing the kitties to living in said RV, learning how to cook in an RV, . . .

The list is much longer, but just that much lets you know why I have been lost in cyberspace.

On to fall. The dust is settling, and in just a few more days, we will have only 1 home to care for.

Writing is back on the menu, boys! (Can you name that movie reference? Comment below!)

Into the World

Here is something I'm happy to see, rewards from past labors. I love this magazine, Missions Mosaic, and am honored to write for Woman's Missionary Union in several different areas.

You might want to check them out here.

Missions Mosaic

Happy reading!

Back to the chaos.

$125 Bucks Later . . .

Monet in one of her favorite napping spots. In her favorite position.

By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell

The first hint that something was wrong was the sound of the cat door furiously flapping.

The next hint was the flash of gray darting across the floor to the cat box. Monet had the kitty runs. Eww.

I mean the nasty smelly potty stops. While I've been there myself (though I don't use the cat litter box nor do I go through the cat door), I've never seen a cat make a mad dash to the toilet!

Poor baby!

The dash and go lasted all evening and we were getting concerned. But since she continued to eat, drink, and play with her toys like a wild thing, we figured it would pass.

But this morning there was blood.

That definitely meant a trip to the vet. There was initial interest in the cat carrier by both girls, but the second I grabbed Monet to put her in, Mabel dashed off for hiding, afraid she would be next.

$125 bucks later, Monet was home. Colitis. Who knew cats could have that?

Cats eat all sorts of things. Especially Monet. She's the wild girl and she very aggressively hunts, consumes, and shares her prizes. According to the vet, this is common.

No fever, healthy teeth, eating and drinking, playing, good fur, no temp = colitis and maybe a some worms (from eating before mentioned outdoor treats).

"Are you able to give her pills?" he asked.

"My guess is no, though we've never had to give them to her before," I said. "Monet is our more intensive cat and pulls no punches when she plays. I'm guessing I would earn a bite or scratches from any attempts."

This idea was confirmed when the vet came back with Monet after a little visit to the back room. "I did manage to give her a pill, but I had a technician and an assistant helping me. I gave her a shot. It's not my first choice, but to prevent bites and scratches, it will be best for her." (And me!)

As I thought.

How Monet loves to sleep.

So, guess what $125 buys? A vet inspection. A very strong antibiotic injection. One pill. Worming medication.

And a very happy-to-be-home cat who has already brought me a moth.

What's Growing in the Garden?

Strawberries, raspberries, lavender, and radishes fresh from the garden.

By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell

What's growing in the garden? I mean besides cat fur.

The strawberries are slowing down and I think ready for a big break to build up their energy. Whoa! This was the most prolific strawberry (also known as strawbabies and beebes around our house) harvest I have ever had. Not counting the minimal loss from slugs, sow bugs, ants, and raiding grandchildren.

Raspberries are coming on! Beautiful, tasty, sweet-tart lovely bursts of flavor - be still my heart. I love me some raspberries (also known as raspbabies and beebes at our house).

My miniscule crop of French radishes is nearing readiness for being pulled up, roots and all. I planted a roasting pan with radishes in hopes of avoiding above mentioned pests who annually decimate my peppery red and white treats. Take that, you vermin! Today Donavyn and I pulled up a few to check for size. And we gobbled them all up, just like Goldilocks ate Baby Bear's porridge. Just right.

Lavender, one of my favorite flowering herbs, is starting to bloom strong. I haven't seen many bees this spring, so I am pleased the purple blossoms are attracting several from somewhere. If only a swarm would descend in our area and we could capture it . . .

As always, parsley, thyme, dill, and sage are available free of charge to any and all. The sunflowers look like they will put on a great show in another couple of weeks. Birds delight, but beware the two slinking gray girls who blend in to the bricks and sand beneath your dinner table.

One of my failures this year is okra. I really wanted to grow some for my mom who grew up in Missouri. I've done 3 plantings, and there is nothing to be had but munched sprouts. I guess they taste good?

I've also done multiple plantings of echinacea, or cone flowers, for the bees and butterflies. This last batch is finally showing promise. I may just have to buy half grown plants.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells,

And pretty maids all in a row.

There is always a furry body helping me. This one particularly loves to sleep on the strawberries.

My friends, how does your garden grow?

Happy New Year (From the Kitties)

Today, as I began 2016 by working on a deadline, I had plenty of help.

 

Too much help, in fact.

This one, Mabel, jumped up right after sister, Monet, left.

 

I sense a new year trend in my office.

 

 

What work? You are doing that?



 

I think I should help you. Yes. Let me scooch right here.

 

Move? You want me to move?

 

Fine. I will sit over here. I'll just watch my sister.

 

Mom, what is in the basket? Can I get in the basket? Let me chew on some things in the basket.

 

What book? You need this book? I'm sitting on it . . .

 

And so went the day. There have been times when my mind was so focused, I didn't even see or hear the approaching kitty until she leapt in the middle of work. This was especially troublesome when her paws were wet and a touch muddy.

 

We have new S.O.P.

(standard operating procedures)

 

1. Be prepared at any moment to quickly and calmly gather all ready-to-mail papers in a pile and remove them from work counter.

 

2. Try very hard to hear the tiniest pitter patter of kitty claws on the wood floor. This will give warning of impending assistance on the work desk.

 

3. Give loves. This allows kitties to purr, shed fur, and roll around on paperwork. This also encourages kitties to vacate the project zone in a timely manner.

 

 

Paws up to 2016!

 

May your year be fulfilling, joyful, and overflowing with peace.

 

And may your clothes always bear fur from the administrations of 4-legged children. For that means you have provided a home to loving pets.

 

Happy New Year!

The Perfect Sunday

The view from my front yard. I am so glad my neighbors have gorgeous trees.

Not only is fall my favorite season, fall Sundays rank right up there at the top of the list.

What comprises a perfect fall Sunday?

coffee with my honey
the Sunday paper, waiting for me to read it after lunch
church, complete with plenty of energy and excitement garnered by the children
an afternoon free of responsibility
a lovely walk being pushed along by autumn bursts of wind and swirling leaves
empty roads
other walkers and joggers, accompanied by their dogs
making it almost home before the rains began
soup
cool weather just begging for cozy sweaters and fires
wet kitties making footprints where ever they roam
football, compliments of the Seahawks

What makes your Sundays perfect?

Looking forward to next Sunday.

Tea with Me - Trader Joe's Irish Breakfast

What is your tea of choice?

I'm currently sipping Trader Joe's Irish Breakfast with a little drizzle of honey. Perfectly yummy!

Pour a fresh cup and let's chat. Oh, dear, things are just popping along around here. Yes they are.

For instance, did you know we have really bad smoke in our valleys? Huge forest fires - I'm talking in the 10's of thousands of acres on fire or already destroyed - have been filling our air with hazy smoke. Some days are worse than others. Like Sunday. The gray was pretty thick. In fact, we took a motorcycle ride to Ellensburg, trying to retrace a nice ride from the ending point and working backwards. We never found our way. No, not at all. We were actually lost! With such thick smoke, we couldn't see the landmarks and foothills to keep us headed the correct direction. We narrowly missed going the absolute opposite way over a different mountain pass. Instead of finding northeast we rode blindly all the way around Ellensburg and ended up northwest headed north. We live south of Kittitas County, so you can imagine our surprise! Back roads sometimes do not work.

Yet another exciting event on our ride was the yellow jacket stuck under my shirt. Uh-huh. I felt a sharp poke, scratched it, and it stopped. About 15 minutes later, I had another stabbing pain, but it was much stronger. I scratched at it, and decided perhaps we should pull over for a check. Yes. Right beside the Yakima River, there we were, river float and canyon road traffic all watching, and Kevin was flapping my shirt up and down. I was almost ready to disrobe, too bad about the free show. We never did find the yellow jacket but two huge welts showed where it had gotten my attention. I am so pleased that I was only stung two times! Fifteen minutes of repeated stinging could mean a trip to the hospital if that thing had kept up it's crankiness. When we got home, we couldn't even see the holes. But Monday morning, the welts were back and full of red. A lesson learned - tuck your shirt in and keep it tight.

Six overgrown thick skinned yellow squash went directly from the garden to the compost bin. Too big, too seedy, too tough. One day I peek, and they are finger length and not ready. The next time I look, it's good-bye to you and how did you get that big that fast??? If ever you are over my way, you are welcome to a few.

Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of banging. Loud banging. Miss Mabel had her mouse and daddy was not letting her keep it for a toy. The bad news was the cats had not been outside yet, so the mouse had somehow made it in alone. Mouse mistake. The good news is we have cats. Inside and outside.

The office looks even worse than the photo of my previous post. If that is possible.

Twenty-eight old folding chairs have passed through my patio this month. Ten are staying for cool seating at the blue door table. Twelve headed north by way of my sister. Six are hanging out waiting for my daughter-in-law. Honestly, who needs that many chairs? I guess we think we do.

The kitties, now officially over a year old, have their annual check-up, vaccinations, and de-worming tomorrow. Let's just predict that Mabel is going to get 'the talk.' The fat kitty talk. She is fluffy I say. I can't figure out how to feed her on a schedule and her sister (who is quite thin) who needs to eat more. Maybe our vet will give suggestions. Whatever happens, it usually involves Mabel eating everyone's food. She loves her food.

Alas, sadness sets in at the ending of summer. Not the heat. Tomorrow is supposed to be triple digits again. The end of that no-school-vacation-time feelings of summer are evaporating like a puddle on a hot day.

But the waning of summer means - hurray - the waxing of fall. That means cooler temps, beautiful colors, cozier nights, and relief from forest fires and tinder dry conditions. Please, Lord, send us ample snow and rain this winter!

My hair seems to be getting grayer and my knees are creakier. How did that happen? Just last week I was 25. (wink, wink)

Ah, life is good. The finches serenade me every morning, the kitties are glad to see me, and I am usually guaranteed to see at least one grandchild!

Hoping your life is filled with peaceful sips of tasty tea and lovely adventures worthy of sharing.

Waiting to hear...

Chilling with Friends

Monet and Mabel are sisters as well as friends. And in the kitty world, they are also co-conspirators, hunters, fighters, sneakers, racers, destroyers, and makers of great messes.

But when their work is all said and done, as twin girls often do, they recline in similar positions. Most of the time, this is true. I've never seen two cats pose so identically.

Copycats.

This week I will be off running around with friends - eating and rubber stamping and chatting. I will also travel to the Pacific Northwest Writers Association Conference to see old friends and make new ones while learning more about the trade and career of writing. Due to all that gallivanting around, I will not be blogging.

Mostly I will be learning and listening and creating. A vacation and an academy for my mind, all at the same time.

May many blessings and wonderful times grace your home and family this week. Enjoy summer!

See you next week.

Mad Monday - aka - Tea with Me

Whoa, baby!

It's been Mad Monday here all day long.

Originally, I was going to spend the day off on a retreat by me-lonesome, taking photos, dabbling with watercolor paints, and chilling. Well. That didn't happen.

Instead:

I had to harvest the garden. Green beans, wax beans, yellow squash, and raspberries were waiting for me.

The gardens had to be soaked. This 100-plus spell is taking it's toll. Raspberry and blueberry leaves are positively baked on top.

Laundry. Oh, boy. For two of us, it is amazing. Loads of laundry and changing of the sheets. Not as important or exciting as the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, but necessary.

Grocery. Shopping. My usual store (first word starts with an F, second word begins with M) is in major remodel mode. Can't find anything and most things are non-existent. Still, I was there early and the crowds were light.

Spreading bark on my triangle kitchen garden was mandatory. The heat has been brutal. Poor plants. The cats loved helping me and the soil should stay moist and weed free(er).

Due to above cats, I had to recover a bird. Dead this time. My first hint was Monet trying to get something beneath the couch. As she walked off, I thought, ok, it's a toy.

Hours later, a I discovered feathers in two spots. Ok. It was not a toy. Up went the couch, and there amidst many kitty toys was a poor dead sparrow. After fighting off Mabel, who loves stealing Monet's prizes, and shooing off Monet, who wanted her birdie back, I was able to capture and dispose of said bird. The good news is that it was dead and therefore easier to catch.

Plenty of green beans filled my basket, so a second batch of spicy garlic green beans made their way through the pickling process.

Muesli was on the list of to-do's, but guess who forgot oatmeal? Kind of an important ingredient in oatmeal muesli.

So far, laundry remains on the list. As do tacos for dinner, numerous paperwork tasks, packing for a writer's conference, piling craft supplies for a rubber stamp fest,
and writing tasks.

I could sure use a tea break. How about it? See you in five. And then we can chat about your weekend.

Like Mabel, I'm exhausted. However, I will not recline on the table like a naughty kitty.

I suppose it will be Mad Monday until tomorrow, when it is Tuesday.

Where is the REST of the Bird?

You know that moment.

The one when you return from a day-long excursion and the girls were left to their own devices. (Four-legged, furry, sisters from the same litter - that kind of girls.)

And there it is. A something dark on the floor. What is it? Barf? Mouse? Rat? Bird?

Creeping ever closer, you are relived to find it is a feather. A very large feather. But how did it get there?

And where is the REST of the bird?

Did they eat the whole thing? Is it loose and wounded in the house? Are there other piles of feathers and 'stuff' in a different room? Where are the girls anyway?

So you search, room by room, hoping to not find anything that jumps out or wiggles or spreads blood and guts while also needing to discover the source of the feather and deal with it.

Nothing.

Some relief. But not really. Because the feather did belong to someone at sometime.

The last time this happened, we found piles of tiny feathers. No bird. Months later, Mabel managed to scrape out the petrified dehydrated bird from beneath the stove. Can I just say YUCK?

So far, so good.

Let's check back in a few months to see if she pulls something else from beneath the oven.

Cats and Their Toys

Her Highness, Mabel, too hot and exhausted to stand at the water bowl. Serve me please?

It's been a weekend of cat yack. Hoping that joy is complete after several doses of furball meds to both cats. Still not sure who the guilty one is. I think we have the quietest yackers ever.

But let's talk cats for a moment. It's been hot. Over 100 hot. The kitties in their shedding but still thick fur coats are feeling it.

Speaking of, will the guilty one who lost this tail clump please step forward? And do tell how it happened.

The joys of two cats that could be twins mean one never knows exactly who did, lost, ate, yacked, or chewed up what.

This perfect gem of a cat rule was in the Monday morning funnies. Totally true.

For example, all of those papers-in-process-of-becoming-masterpiece . . . TOYS. Thank you, Monet, for rearranging. Oh so much nicer.

These TOYS slide and skitter off the desk, table, and floor with such fascinating ease. Never do papers stay on the desk. Or bulletin board.

The cat puzzle transformed into a cat puzzle toy. Which one to flick off first? Where should I sit? Can I roll and then ease entire sections off the edge? Can mom work the puzzle with my help? Should I eat this one or that one?

The answer to all of the above is mostly yes. This one, sit here, yes they roll off, no mom can't do it with my assistance, and no, maybe I shouldn't eat that piece.

The puzzle is now put away for the lifetime of the two cats.

Happy Monday, cat owners. You know that of which I speak.


PS What is your cats' favorite toy?

Breakfast with Slugs

Ahem. Good morning! How is your day going so far?

I have been sharing breakfast with slugs. And ants. And cats.

After shrieking when I peeled back the raspberry canes and seeing a particularly large and amazing ugly slug (and his slightly smaller brother) I decided it was time to put the old beer slug trap to the test. The beer is for the slugs. Not me.

Whereupon, the kitties decided it was time for a early morning drink. That resulted in a motley collection of garden junk around said beer trap to dissuade them from sipping.

Into the drink went the ugly buddies. Away from the beer went the sipping kitties. And one by one, picked off of raspberries and strawberries, bye-bye went the ants. The beebs were for me.

It's already been quite the garden morning.

Breakfast anyone?

You are welcome.

PS Should you see the kitties staggering down the road, let me know. We will go to beer trap #2 plan.

Black Does Not Match Shedding Season

It seems the season of shedding is upon us.

The kitties, barely one year old, are experiencing their first time of spring shedding. Fur. Abundant fluff. Hair. Way more hair than is actually on the girls is racing in droves to be the first to depart their respective feline host.

Wads of gray, tan, and orange now mingle with other carpet bunnies. Oh, please, don't reproduce!

We had some loves today, Monet and I. Black is not a good color for this time of year. "But it felt so good," said a much thinner gray girl.

Amidst the floating pieces that caught the light and the lingering ones that settled on the furniture (and my black top), one would know that this house harbors not just one defrocking cat, but two.

If you come a-visiting, don't wear black.

And never fear. I have the sticky tape roller ready to go.

Pick Your Seat

My mom used to tell me that picking your seat meant I was digging my underpants out of my . . . uhm . . . they were stuck and I was helping them get unstuck.

In this case, picking your seat means that Mabel already has. And I'm not sure where I am supposed to sit to work.

One of us is going to be very comfortable. The other will probably slide off the chair.

Life with cats.

One Year Old - A Birthday of Sorts - What Do Cats Do?

Monet and Mabel curled up, twin sisters who always did everything together.

Just like human babies seem to sprout up before our very eyes, our furry kitties have done the same thing over the last year.

They were never far from mommy. This is on my sewing table, which is in the office. Again, back then, they spent all of their time side by side, regardless of the activity.

Two little girls, practicing their gym skills. So small!

Mabel helped me read the newspaper.

The girls celebrated their birthday. The nice thing is that I can remember their birthday. April 15. Tax day. Now they no longer do everything in tandem. Each has her own favorite napping spot, hiding den, and particulars about interacting with we humans. Going outside with us? Still a group effort. They love mom and dad working in the yard.

But what did they do to celebrate?

Monet slept. A lot.

Hmmm. I would say she did not appreciate her birthday hat.

Perhaps Monet was downright unhappy about her hat. Yes. I think that is what she is trying to tell me. Annoyance personified.

Mabel refused to even wear hers for a second.

Instead, she ate it. And hauled it around. And chewed on it some more.

Perhaps birthdays are not so exciting (or remembered) in the lives of animals. But we pet lovers who dote on our furry or feathered or scaled family members do like to keep track, don't we? How do your pets celebrate their birthdays?

Happy Birthday, Monet and Mabel!

My Writing Partner (Cute Kitty Alert)

This is my girl. ONE of my gray girls, as the neighbor calls them.

She is my writing partner. Most days, as soon as my backside hits the chair, the cat joins me.

She gets the back half. I get the front. I'm the one in danger, though, of sliding off the front. This is mainly due to the slick covering and the mandatory highest setting so I can reach the keyboard. Which, unfortunately, means my feet do not really touch the ground.

Sitting down becomes a balancing act between not smashing the kitty, not slipping off the front of the chair, and not falling back and making the chair slip out from beneath me. (That has happened once, and it hurts.)

Hi, Mabel, my built in heating pad.

The best part, which I never think about unless my husband notices and tells me?

I walk around the rest of the day with a cat-hair stripe across my buttsy cheeks.

It's a new fashion statement. Gray hair on my head (thanks, Hollywood, for catching my style) and gray hair on my pants.

We girls color coordinate.