Colonial America as a Setting

Today I'm at Bits & Bytes: Romance...the Writer's Way sharing tidbits about the setting of my novel, Sapphire and Gold. I hope you'll pop over for a visit.

What the Cat Dragged In

Ick. Ick. Ick.

This morning I stumbled into the kitchen. My plan was to turn on the light so I could see my way to the laundry area and grab a pair of jeans. (Today was jeans day at work.)

Good thing I had remembered to slip on my sandals.

I crossed the few feet from the kitchen doorway to the lamp on the shelf over the stove. (The light switch next to the doorway hasn't worked for a long time.) Just before my fingers touched the lamp, the tip of my right sandal encountered something kind of firm, that didn't move. I flipped on the light. And froze.

Ick. Ick. Ick.

My sandal was touching a squirrel. A dead (at least I hope it was dead!) squirrel. Cuddled next to it? Yup, my cat, who just stared at me.

Being the wimp that I am, I immediately hurried to my bedroom and told my dh, expecting he'd pop up and say, "I'll take care of that right now, honey."

Didn't happen. His hero status took a big hit when he just kinda grunted and went back to sleep.

I know! I stood there in shock.

I peeked back into kitchen, thinking I could sneak past the ickfest in the kitchen, grab my jeans and clean underwear, and get ready for work. Uh, no. Itty-Bitty (who is no longer so itty-bitty) was wrestling and rolling with squirrel. Not enough room to get by without touching it.

Well, fine. I just wouldn't wear jeans today. Or clean underwear. I grabbed my dress pants and ducked into the bathroom. Caught sight of my face in the mirror and told myself, "Suck it up and put on your big girl panties...after you retrieve them from the laundry area."

"But I don't wanna."

"Too bad."

So I did suck it up, grabbed a broom I had left in the living room and nudged the squirrel, cat by its side, all the through the kitchen, past the washing machine and dryer. My insides were quaking the entire time. We finally reached the back door and I gently eased the poor squirrel onto the back porch. Itty-Bitty plopped down beside him. (I'm guessing it was a him. I didn't check.) I firmly closed the back door so the cat could not bring it back in through the hole in the screen door.

I do hope the poor thing died when the transformer blew last night (maybe he was the cause of it?) and that my cat wasn't the culprit. I mean, being zapped by electricity is probably quicker than death-by-cat, don't you think?