Have a Little Compassion for the Crazy Cat Lady in Your Life
Posted on 27. Oct, 2008 by Laura-Jane - Whimfield in Personal
Silly folk that we are, my partner Cameron and I ejected our old wood-stove before we had our new wood-stove in our hands. This is a very silly thing to do when your wood-stove is your only source of heat.
Because the new wood-stove’s arrival was delayed and delayed and delayed some more, we’ve been trying to stay warm by any means possible: wearing toques and mittens and long johns and cuddling up for warmth.
Being cold has led to a variety of mishaps. The story that follows is the most recent misadventure.
It was morning. About 9:00am. I was freezing, and, in my attempts to get warm, I’d bundled up in a variety of strange clothes that I’d found laying around the house: Cameron’s large hooded sweatshirt, some crazy floral flannel pants, and a huge, fuzzy fuchsia mohair toque.
Now, the fuchsia toque that I speak of is actually quite chic. Paired with the right outfit and matching fuchsia scarf, it works. But paired with flannel pants and an over-sized hoodie, the toque turns a bad outfit into an outfit fit for a crazy person. Especially when one’s unkempt morning-hair is sticking out at all angles from beneath said toque.
But what did I care? I was cold, and I was alone in our house in the middle of the woods.
So, as mentioned, it was morning. I was sitting on the couch, listening to birds peck at the eaves on the outside of our house. I understand that the little starlings are trying to make a home in order to prepare for winter, but I simply cannot allow them to peck their way into the attic. Irritated, I finally decided that enough was enough. I needed to scare the birds away from the house. I headed towards the front hall–intending to open the front door and yell, in the highest of decibels, at the birds.
Walking briskly, I headed to the front door and flung it open in one fast, irritated motion. Poised high on the stoop to yell loudly in gibberish, I found myself face to face with the Maritime Electric meter reader, who’d come to read our meter. (The meter is located outside, directly next to the front door.)
Poor Mr. Maritime Electric looked young, handsome, and scared out of his wits.
“Oh!” I said, wearing my giant fuzzy toque and flannel pants. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I was just going to yell at the birds!” And I tried to flash him my cutest apologetic grin.
Now, let me tell you something about cute, apologetic grins. They don’t work if you’re dressed like a mad-hatter.
“You came to yell at the birds?” He asked, taking a step backwards.
I nodded, not sure how to explain myself.
By this time, I knew my silly grin was only making things worse.
I changed to a somber tactic and tried to explain, “I don’t normally wear these things, you see, it’s because of our heat, it’s…”
“Oh sure, sure.” He nodded vehemently, backing away a little further.
He was almost out of ear shot by now, and he turned quickly and jogged back to his company car.
I watched him go, wondering whether he’d even had a chance to read the meter.
Standing high on my front stoop as the strapping young meter reader fled our property, I found myself feeling a kindred camaraderie with all crazy cat ladies and spooky neighbours everywhere.
Perhaps crazy cat ladies are not really crazy. Perhaps they’re just terribly misunderstood: caught unawares during inopportune moments. Perhaps they’re just sweet ladies who are no longer able to rely on cute, apologetic smiles to explain their plight.
So the next time you encounter a crazy cat lady or a mad-looking woman in a fluffy fuchsia hat, I urge you to think twice before judging.
Love,
Resident Cat Lady
Steven Fisher
Oct 27th, 2008
This post really needed a picture. :)
Laura-Jane
Oct 27th, 2008
Lol, no way on this green earth my friend!
Andrea >> Become a Consultant
Oct 27th, 2008
I scrolled all the way down in search of a picture. I am sorely disappointed!
mom Marjorie
Oct 27th, 2008
This is a fabulous story with a universal truth for us all to ponder. But, child; being this cold is not funny – see where it leads – to craziness. Yes, it makes a very entertaining story for the rest of us to chortle over, but; being of the right temperature is one of the basic necessities of a healthy life (as in, food, clothing and shelter!) What’s the latest news re your stove order? (Last I read it was ‘the beginning of November’). Loving you, Your worried mother.
jayne
Oct 27th, 2008
Hilarious! I had visions of Little Edie Beale (Grey Gardens) while reading this. “Mother wanted me to come out in a kimono and we had quite a fight…” I hope your stove arrives soon!
Sandy
Oct 27th, 2008
Your story reminds me of a similar run in I had with a Maritime Electric employee. Living off the grid, we are not hooked up to Maritime Electric, but since there is a civic number and driveway to our house in the woods, Maritime Electric assumed that there had to be a meter to read. So one morning while home with my young baby, I heard a vehicle drive in our lane. This is not a common sound for us, as we live a kilometer from the road and friends and family usually don’t attempt our driveway, let alone strangers. When I saw the Maritime Electric vehicle I went to the door to break the news to him that he had driven all this way for nothing. Well, I don’t know if it was the look of me, of our house or just the fact that we lived so far from the road, but the nice man quickly said “I have today’s paper in the truck if you would like to read it!” I happily accepted The Guardian and wondered if the man thought that I must never get out and could use some connection to the outside world.
It took Maritime Electric a while to figure out that we were not connected to them, but I haven’t seen a vehicle here in a few years.
Andrea
Oct 27th, 2008
What a great story! It reminds me of an experience living in the boons when I was “between jobs.”
We were living on the main floor of a old house so I could spend part of my long, cold days working up a sweat doing aerobics in the comfort of my own home. We didn’t have much of a social circle in this remote locale, but to my horror, one afternoon when I was red-faced, sweat dripping and clad in an unattractive sports bra and droopy shorts, one of Roddy’s male friends strolled up to our door and caught me through the window. There was no escape now. I couldn’t duck behind the couch and hide. And I had no towel or sweatshirt handy.
What followed was one of the most awkward conversations I’ve ever had at the doorway. Thankfully, the ceiling in our new place is far too low for vigorous indoor exercise!
Gary Gray
Oct 28th, 2008
Actually there was a crazy cat lady that lived in our neighborhood when I was a boy. Her name was Lizzy Lacey and she lived alone in a little house in the woods with her cats. We kids were all terrified to death of her thinking that if we tried to steal her apples from her orchard we would face certain death in the absolute worst possible way, imagine.
So thanks for finally filling in as they say “the rest of the story”. LOL
I heard from a little bird that your stove has arrived and that you were getting it set up on the weekend. (wouldn’t you know it, temp today was 18C in Montague) Don’t worry there will be plenty of opportunity to use it before long.
Smiles :o)
Gary
Greensprite
Oct 29th, 2008
LOL, ahhh. That made me laugh so hard. Those starlings are little beggars.
Sal
Oct 11th, 2009
Reading this too late to laugh at loud, I nearly chocked myself with hysterical (stuffed) laughter! You do have a way with words!
Did the birds go away?