This was my weekend. How was yours?

(Weekend Cat Blogging Round-up will be up as soon as the computers are as cooperative as the cats. In brief, we had an emergency upgrade issue and everything’s in pieces. Somewhere in this office, there’s a hard drive with half a round-up post on it. I think it’s the drive on the table in the photo, but I can’t be certain. On the bright side, the cats haven’t yet knocked anything onto the floor, nor have they turned ribbon cables into playthings. Phew!)

“Is it time already?” the orange one asked as he lounged before the great calendar of all household things.

A room away, his little gray companion sat up. “Time?” she said. Her voice was louder than its usual squeak. “Indeed it is! Something’s coming. Something… shiny.” She paused, transfixed by a tail of multicolored yarn that floated across the ceiling and disappeared through the glass of a closed window.

On the couch, just a few feet away, the dog stirred but didn’t wake from her daily squirrel-chasing dreams.

“Pack your kit bag,” the gray one said. “We’re going on a journey.”

(It’s Weekend Cat Blogging here at Belly Timber. Leave links to your Cat Blogging posts in the comments or email us at the_cat(at)belly-timber(dot)com. Ahriman and Port’s Weekend Cat Blogging Round-up Adventure will begin Saturday Sunday and continue through the weekend with a final installment on Monday.

Please link back to us if you get a chance, and don’t forget this weekend’s other cat blogging adventures at the Friday Ark, and the Bad Kitty Chaos Festival.)

See that tomato? It’s our one and only tomato. Oh, we’ll have more later (with some 12 tomato plants in the yard, we’d better!) but right now, this is it. Our August bounty.

Hey! I think we just saved fifty cents on our grocery bill!

We really do have a great yard for gardening — good soil and decent light when the pruning gets done — it’s just that this year (The Interminable Year of Reclaiming our Lives as I’ve been tempted to call it) we kinda forgot about Summer.

Seriously. It was April and we were talking about getting some plants into the garden as soon as we could find a spare moment. Then somewhere in June we found one day to till a bit of soil and drop in a few assorted tomatoes, chiles, and herbs. Then, next thing you know, it’s August and the damn plants are just sitting out there in the jungle — barely growing — in this absurd late summer weather of sun one day and rain the next.

So now we’re crossing our fingers for a summery September, or if not for that, then at least for a harvest that doesn’t involve heavy rain and an onslaught of tomato blight.

Meantime, I’ve made a note in the Reclaiming our Lives mental file: Please try not to be completely busy and broke next planting season, and for the love of all that’s photosynthetic, remember: even if you’ve got just five spare minutes three times a week, pruning shears and chain saws are your friends!

(WHAT’S NEXT: Ahriman and Port will be hosting Weekend Cat Blogging on August 25th & 26th. Look for a Friday afternoon post where you can add your kitty links in the comments. The round-up will begin on Saturday and be updated in fits and starts over the weekend.)

I am not usually susceptible to advertising. I tend to ignore what the hucksters are hucking my way on the telly. Sure the gecko’s kinda cute, but he’s not going to get me to switch insurance companies just because he’s shiny and green and sounds like Brick Top from Snatch — minus the bit about feeding people to the pigs, of course.

Same goes for print ads. Mailbox to round file: it’s such a short, short trip.

I even toss catalogs.

I should note that I don’t actually subscribe to any catalogs. Not a one. (No magazines either, but that’s another story.) When they show up unannounced, I rarely give them a second glance and I am so, so proud of my superior resistance to Madison Avenue.

But then this thing happens. This store opens within a short drive of our house. And a catalog for this store appears in my mailbox and… and…

Aagh. I can’t stand it any longer.

Look. Just look. Pages and pages of drawers and shelves and baskets — glorious storage compartments, and all with terrifyingly cute names like Björken, and Aspvik, and Ivar.

(I am MizD’s crumbling resistance.)

I can almost taste the Swedish meatballs and lingonberries as I turn the pages.

I know, I know, I have to fight it. We can’t do it. Can’t go shopping. The risk is too great.

But… but… if we acquired more storage compartments — badly needed storage compartments for things like laundry…

…we could prevent this from happening:

Yes, Port has discovered the dryer.

(Visit CatSynth for the Weekend Cat Blogging #115 Round up! Next week’s WCB will be hosted right here at Belly Timber, by our new feline residents, Port and Ahriman. I hear they are planning something unusual, but I’ve no idea what. Even the dog’s not talking.)