The Glamorous. The Glamorous Life.

Long time no blogging. Things have been crazy busy.
Last week I did the ACFW conference in St. Louis, speaking/teaching four times and that flat out wore me out. And by wear me out, I mean the shopping that came beforehand was exhausting.
My life has been so, so glam. Allow me to elaborate.

I have the new 3-legged wonder cat. What he can't do with the lost paw, he makes up for in claws. Already shredded 2 leather dining room chairs, and I have open wounds all over my body. It's like living with Wolverine. It's charming. And 3LWC is everywhere.
In the laundry basket.

In my purse.

“Where's the Lip Smackers?”

Peeking behind every door.

“I'm not sure why you think you need some alone time. I didn't mean to bust your lip with my ninja claws.”

And Miller hates the new cat. 3LWC still needs to work on his social skills. For example, it's not cool that he wakes me up every morning at 4 am by biting my nose. Or jumping on Miller and trying to gnaw off his ear.

“Biting means I love you.”

So I left the two dueling cats at home last week and went to St. Louis to hang out with 650 other writers and get some peace. I'm happy to report not one person bit me on the nose there.

I eat gluten-free, and sometimes with hotel food that is a challenge. Like one morning, this was breakfast.

I can feel your jealousy from here. I would identify the food in the picture, but I've yet to figure it out.

Came home from St. Louie to another cultural event…a turkey shoot. My nephew even won in his division.

He is a boy's boy for sure. Country-raised and loves him some guns and the shooting of the turkeys.

I was hesitant about going to a turkey shoot, but the allure of the rib dinner drew me in. I had visions of throwing myself between bullet and fowl, crying, “Save yourselves! Demon guns! Demon guns!”
But everyone shoots targets. They win frozen turkeys. No animals were killed on this day. Or maybe they just waited until I left.
Good thing.
::pushes up sleeves::  I was prepared to go into action.

My family enjoys my animal sensitivities. At one point my mom saw a minivan with a dog lying uncomfortably in the dash.
“He looks hot,” Mom says.
I glance that way and frown.
“Good job, Mom,” Brother says. “Now Jenny will be worried about it all afternoon.” He looks at me. “Do not pull out your PETA card and make a citizen's arrest.”
Mom speaks into pretend phone. “PETA, we have a Code 12.”
“I need backup,” Brother says. “I repeat, Code 12 requires backup.”

On a related note, I am renting out a brother and mother.
Keeping the nephew though. He brings home things that go with mashed potatoes.

For the record I'm not a member of PETA. Those people have to be naked too often.

There You'll Find Me officially releases Tuesday.
Razor Kitty says if you don't read it, he'll bite off your nose.