Bothersomely peaceful...

I can't seem to get the writing wheels turning this morning, and I've just figured out why: It's too damned quiet. Too much quiet at Casa Didgeridoo isn't something to be trusted. Quiet is fine, but complete silence? That usually means something fairly explosive is on the horizon that will result in my having a headache, chest pains, hives, or a combination thereof. I have learned to never fully settle, for then I am not so deeply rattled when things return to normal after the household's batteries have recharged.

It was almost this deathly quiet yesterday when Jupiter Jones, the much-mentioned kitten, pulled the box portion of the fireplace barricade down upon himself. He and Totsi the Dog were having their morning leaps and bounds, Didge was snoozing on the couch, Foot Foot was in her cave, and I was actually stupid enough to think I might settle down for a peaceful cup of coffee and some writing time. I thought about browsing an issue of "W" and pondered going back to a black manicure and pedicure while listening to the dog and kitten run, run, and run a little more. For a while, they were in the foyer, and I found the tippity tapping of Totsi's toenails (ye gods, the alliteration) on the parquet floor most amusing. They then zipped back down to the living room, and I could tell by the jingling of tags that Totsi was probably spinning the whole way. And then I heard a hollow, rattling thump followed by what must have been the loudest instance of "cat holler" and hissing on record.

How can anything as small as a kitten make that degree of noise? You're familiar with "Burger and Fries", the frankly disturbing video of the highly scared/infuriated cat, right? The noise he is making? Nothing. I mean it. The two or three pounds of orange and white fur that is Jupiter Jones outdid that by a long shot. Once I could see and breathe again, I dashed into the living room to find Totsi trying to protect the highly agitated kitten from an empty box monster, and a highly agitated kitten hiding under the papasan chair staring goggle-eyed at an empty box monster that had somehow made its way two feet away from the fireplace. The highly agitated kitten then ran at Totsi, popped her on the nose, and high-tailed it under the couch. Totsi ran to the bedroom to hide, and I put everything back where it had been.

Every cell of my being now knows the meaning of the word, "caterwauling". As of this morning, Jupiter Jones is still giving the fireplace a wide berth, and Totsi's still a little edgy when he runs at her when playing - she ran back to the bedroom and hid when he got too enthusiastic for her taste a while ago. Foot Foot has moved a little deeper into her cave, and ever since then has looked profoundly confused. And Didgeridoo Boy? Unfazed. Why? Because he slept through it, that's why.

Enjoy your weekend, and have some music.