M is for Molly Bloom
This is a picture of our first cat, Molly Bloom, as a kitten (as a matter of fact, it was taken right after we brought her home from the shelter). Look how small she is! She never got a lot bigger, but I am 100% certain that she thought she was as big and as ferocious as any tiger.
Molly joined our family when we lived in Chicago. She was 6 months old when we adopted her, and since six months previously was June, we chose June 16 for her birthday, and named her Molly Bloom. She was (and still is) the cat against whom all other cats in the universe are measured.
She was an unusual cat, in that she loved to ride in the car, she played fetch, and she even took a little jaunt with us in a motorboat owned by The Tim's brother, along the Ohio River! She was quite the traveler, usually accompanying us on any trips home to visit, where she would curl up on the front seat in between us, with one paw touching The Tim (her true love), and sleep until we stopped. Then she would have to get up to see where we were. We gave more than one toll-taker on the Pennsyvlania Turnpike cause for a double take, let me tell you!
She loved dogs, but was not overly fond of other cats. She enjoyed visiting people (whether or not she had been invited), and would easily make herself at home just about anywhere. She was not pleased when other cats started to join the family, though once she realized that she could rule the others, all was well in Molly-land. We always told her that she was "the original, and still the best" and that is still true today.
She died from cancer about 10 years ago, and we still miss her every day. But we also know she is looking out for us, and believe that she is completely in charge wherever she is!
N is for ...
(Attention April - this is especially for you!)
For thoose of you not familiar with this term, the definition is here (it was one of my mother's favorite descriptive terms). Remember Gladys Kravitz, the across-the-street neighbor on the TV show "Bewitched":
I chose this for the letter N because I think all of us know at least one nebshit. I know several, to be honest. I work with a few, one in particular who drives me up the wall, pulling mail out of my mailbox to tell me what is there, or to comment on it, or walking up behind me and reading e-mail over my shoulder - aaarrgghhh! True nebshits are seldom treatable, as they do not see themselves as such, and even if you say something or get angry, they miss the point entirely.
And yes, I can be a nebshit as much as anyone else can be. (However, I was taught some manners as a child and so am able to control myself most of the time!) I truly believe that it's one of those things that is somewhere in all of us, but some people just have no filter for keeping it to themselves, or stopping themselves from snooping, eavesdropping, etc.
Often my response is to find a way to leave something around, or write something on my calendar, etc. that is totally wrong, to see if they comment. In a previous job, I was in a four-person department where our boss was a nebshit. The other three of us agreed to periodically write on our calendars things that were shocking or suspicious, to see if the boss commented (and trust me, she did). Once we decided that we would all write in lunch dates with the others' spouses. I don't know if she ever said anything to anyone else, but I didn't hear a peep out of her.
Besides which, she never ever commented on anything else like she had before either ...