Feline Furniture Repurpose

Hi guys, now that my internet has been throttled to the speed of dial-up, I am going to start this on Sunday, perhaps it will be loaded by Monday!

Our cats are outside cats. They are half-wild and do not like the indoors. They will climb the curtains, trying to get out the window, within five minutes of being inside. We have been using this cat tree on the back porch for them to eat and hide in. The wife pointed out the other day how bad of a shape it was in. It’s wobbly and dirty.

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It’s a couple of cat trees that I hobbled together quite awhile ago because they were both falling apart. The wife said that she didn’t want another for them that had carpet on it because that is what gets disgusting. These store-bought ones were not meant to be used outside I think.

She wanted all wood. I had these broken bi-fold closet doors from a cabin repair job. I took some slats off of a pallet, and I had some leftover plywood from fixing damaged bathroom floors. I told her I would see what I could come up with.

So this is what I did with some junk nobody wanted. Now bedding can be removed and washed. No more carpet.

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Base out of closet doors with a place to sleep.

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Tunnel out of pallet planks to play in.

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Side boxes for summer sleeping with screen windows.

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Rear stairs lead to food deck.

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Re-used closet door hinges to hold sides on base.

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Embedded magnets to hold metal food bowls.

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Tunnel comes out the backside.

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On the porch with toys on springs and everything.

The shelves are staggered so the cats can use them as steps up and down.

Ok. So, the pictures only took 2 1/2 hours to upload. I feel so 90’s.  🙂

 

 

 

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What Dreams Could Come?

As a voracious content consumer, It would be great if all of my online friends, who write about the dreams they are having, could come together in one spot to post their experiences. Not a new format idea. Much like what unobtainium13.com does with  Through the Shattered Lens

It would be great to have one thread or post where everyone could compare or contrast what people are imagining while asleep. Are there similarities even though separated by large geographic distances? Are people syncing up because of common experiences through social media during the day (that day)? Could we all have a common learning experience?

Of course, a gathering place like this would have to be a criticism-free zone. I mean, you are asleep when you have these thoughts, right? As a content consumer, I would not be participating. I don’t get to dream, I have been cursed by one nightmare on a loop.

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Stinking Thinking

I have been out making repairs on  Blue Rose Cabins this week,  (Its close to the Old Mans Cave area of the Hocking Hills). Working, listening to downloaded Podcasts while working, and mumbling under my breath about GD tourists.  Heres the thing about tourists. They are a catch 22 situation for me. From my perspective, they use up natural resources, fill the septic tanks up, break things, and leave. The problem with that stinking thinking is that without them I would not have the work at that place. If everything stayed pristine I would never get contacted for repairs. Also, I can’t lump them all together, they are not all bad, and that would just be wrong.

I also started thinking about my time in Strategic Air Command and a supervisor in particular that I had named Joe Whitesock. While on staff in the 80’s it was decided that we would do a self-help project. That’s when the command supplies all of the raw materials and you perform the labor to redo or spruce up an office space. I knew nothing about construction or working with wood. My side thing at the time was buying used cars and flipping them for a small profit. Joe wanted all of the new doors, doorframes, and baseboards stained. I did not have a clue so I took no action. He came back in the room a little later and was clearly upset (fuming) at the lack of progress. He stated in a highly agitated voice; If You Cant Stain Wood I Don’t Have Any Use For You! Well, in a concentrated personal effort to keep my staff job, I picked up a can and read the instructions on the label. Remember, this was pre-internet times, there was no looking it up on Youtube. I would have never thought at the time that his comment (rant) would have stuck with me this long or that it would have launched me on a second career. From that self-help job, making things out of wood became somewhat of an obsession. From remodeling and flipping houses to traveling throughout the country effecting repairs for people, it has been challenging at times, but also very rewarding.

When I left for the day, driving down the big hill, I stopped because there were four doe deer standing in a line looking at me. I put the window down and talked to them for what must have been three minutes. They stood there, wagged their tails and shaking their heads up and down. Its as if they were saying, your ok dude, we know your not a threat.  No, I didn’t even think about taking a picture until much later. I’m good with that, everything does not need to be documented. Loads of things happen in your life that are much better to just experience and to be there in the moment.

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The Eraser Doesn’t Work

I snapped awake this morning at oh dark thirtyish my first thought being, I am a human white board.

I’m the medium sized white board they keep in the corner of the conference room. I’m the one that the guy from HR accidentally used a Sharpie on that one time he wasn’t paying attention. The cleaning staff has tried to get the black permanent marker off, but all it did was fade a little. The information is not bad, but it just isn’t needed anymore, we could use that space for new information. So it sits in the corner, half permanently occupied with brownish info, half clean, not being used anymore, but they cant bring themselves to get rid of it.

Head trauma can do strange things to your thinking, I’m just glad I’m still thinking.

And now, here’s a clip of chickens that we raised from the egg playing in the yard. (Bear with me if I have previously posted this, I don’t remember).

The one that looks like a pigeon from Goodfeathers is called Snert (snow dirt). The gray rooster is called Jekyll and the colorful rooster is called Heckle. They all came from the same hen that was an Austrolorp. The all have Silkie in them from the dad rooster. Diversity man.chickens

 

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Chicken Extortion?

So I worked yesterday replacing rotted boards on a hot tub deck at one of the rental cabins. I get home, and around five o’clock get a call from a distant neighbor. She tells me that she ran into one of our chickens that was on the road “by” our house. My inside voice thinks, huh, I’m not missing any chickens (we count ours daily.)  She goes on to say that it caused eight hundred dollars of damage to the front of her car and that she filed a police report. Me being me, I’m still waiting for the punch line. She says she has a one hundred dollar deductible and that she is on a fixed income. So since its my chicken I am responsible for paying her deductible.  Right then my brain is gearing up for the phrase, pound sand lady!, followed by hanging up. Just before I did, that one small 20 watt appliance light bulb I have left in my head went off.  I asked, what color was the chicken?

White she answered.  Huh, these are the chickens we raise…

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Australorp

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Buckeye

By the way, the pipe in the pictures is an automatic watering station I made, hooked up to a rain barrel.  Man I wish I would have thought of that years ago!

So, after I explained to her that we have no white chickens, and that she is more than welcome to come over to see for herself, she demanded to know, well who’s is it then? Well, I know I’m psychically good, but I’m not that good. I do know that the guy across the street has white ducks. She said the unfortunate bird stuck in the grill when she hit it. If you don’t know the difference between a chicken and a duck, I am pretty sure a glance at the feet will give it away. I am not sure if this was an attempt to extract cash from me or an old lady being sincere. Either way, she never showed up to check out my chicks.

 

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Snarky Examples

I know, I know I am not anyone’s version of “right in the head.” That’s good with me, I’ll still do what I’m doing when the light bulb goes off for a sec and I have an idea. I thought with all the talk this year about the news being fake that why do we misfits not have our own #Snarkalec fake #Snews Headlines? I may be the only one that finds this entertaining and that’s OK also.

I made some up of members I can remember and have posted below.

myrna

 

dylan

 

jan

 

kelly

 

tony

 

mel

 

dawn

 

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Waking Up, or do bears bounce?

He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice.

Albert Einstein

 

I’ve got the brain of a four year old.  

I’ll bet he was glad to be rid of it.

Groucho Marx

 

   In my mind this seems like it just took place, but I know that isn’t true. It popped into my head while I was busy cutting up a tree that had split and fallen in a local widow’s yard. This first nightmare part has been recurring since I was a small child. Why it would insert itself again this late in life I do not know.

   This starts out how it always has, me lying on my back on what feels like a cold smooth slab of granite. I slowly opened my eyes to find the atmosphere was shadowy dark and greenish hazy. Directly off of my right side was a huge wall of large roundish boulders, my shoulder was almost touching one of them. They were stacked upon each other the way you would build a wall out of block. This wall went straight up and kept going until the top of it disappeared,  like a road vanishes on the horizon. As I lay there trying to figure out if this wall was a triangle like a pyramid, or my limited perception playing a trick on me, I hear the first cracking, grinding noise. All of the boulders from the unforeseen top then start to tumble down. As the noise continues to build the first few come into view.  I could see that they were falling straight down the side of the wall. They weren’t making contact and bouncing out of the way, they were heading straight for me, I was frozen. Just before being crushed out of existence, I woke up. 

   I came to lying on a gravel road staring at bare tree top canopies. I could not catch my breath, as if it had all been knocked out of me.  I was lying on top of a frozen over tire rut. My pickup was to the right of me with the driver’s door open and the engine running. I tried to roll over onto my stomach while still trying to get a breath in. My bones were stiff, joints crying from the movement. That’s when I felt the searing pain in my left elbow, like it was on fire. I could feel that there were small pieces of rock embedded in the back of my head skin. I crawled to the door of the truck, tried to pull myself up, feeling embarrassed as hell and wondering, who saw that happen? I thought, that’s right, I remember, I was alone in the woods, there was no one else there. Bracing myself in between the door and the seat I pushed up with my right hand as best I could in an attempt to get inside the cab.

   When I woke up, I was sitting, legs splayed out on the floor of my living room, staring at the carpet. This was a WTF moment! I realized my boots were still attached to my feet, still wearing an insulated jacket. There was a sleeve made of a cut up athletic sock pulled up over my left elbow as some homemade compression device. I used a magnifying handheld mirror and tweezers in the bathroom to pluck out the shards of rock that had found a home at the back of my head. I remembered my old man’s voice saying, “Unless there is a bone sticking out or blood spurting from an opening we don’t go to the hospital.” I don’t think I have shared this experience with anyone. Later, I found the truck, it was sitting kinda in the driveway and kinda on the lawn.

   I hope that in my lifetime medical researchers find a way to diagnose Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) while your brain is still in your head. It would sure beat the alternative.

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