Of mice and men

Our new additions have been busy in their furry little ways. Missie the Cat caught a mouse this afternoon. She brought it into the kitchen and spit it out in front of me. The little mouse scurried across the floor only to be picked up again.

Missie played with it then let it drop again, but this time it got away under the stove before I could grab a box to capture it.

Louie the Cat decided he likes to walk on my head about 4:30 each morning. He knows he has a captive audience and insists on being petted. He also likes to chew on my glasses.

We had a break in snow and cold and I went out Sunday to chip ice where I could and scrape the driveway.

The highlight was standing atop the 8-foot snow pile at the end of the driveway with a shovel, hacking away at the mountain so we can see when we leave the house. Folks just honked and waved as I swung my shovel and tossed snow chunks across the sidewalk.

Work is still a mess for me.

I had another bad moment last week when I wanted to talk with the publisher, the person above my boss, about how my job is being handled and how communication seems to be a one-way street.

Leap-frogging your supervisor to talk to his or her boss is acceptable procedure according to company policy, by the way.

I was told not to bother him, he's too busy with important issues to be talking to me.

Another reason to feel appreciated after almost 18 years with the company.

Did I say that I'm grateful to have a job?