Some Stream-Of-Consciousness On “Chill”

I have a cold, which is about par for the course this time of year. I must have caught a chill over the weekend, when it was cold and damp and when we were around a lot of sneezing, sniffling kids, or as we call them, “bacteria farms,” though “virus farms” might be more appropriate. Mary and I never had kids, and feline diseases don’t infect humans. Okay, there is toxoplasmosis, which can be transmitted to an unborn child if an expectant mother scoops the litter box, but as far as I know that’s not a feline illness.

We all had the chicken pox when we were kids, and Dad, who had never had them, caught them from us. He couldn’t shave for about a week, and his beard grew out in all different directions. Mom blamed it on the fact that his father died before he could teach Dad how to shave, so Dad had to teach himself. Hey, Dad died before I learned to shave, and I think I did all right. I have a beard now, because I have no one to impress besides Mary and shaving is a big pain in the backside.

I learned to shave using Dad’s old safety razor, which Mom never cleaned out of the medicine cabinet after he died. He left some shaving cream, a half-empty package of Gillette Blue Blades, and a half-bottle of English Leather, so I was all set. I learned the English Leather would stop the bleeding when I cut myself, which I did a lot of at first. I stuck with the safety razor, or an injector razor, until I found I couldn’t get the blades for it, after which I was forced to use the disposables. I tried going back to a safety razor when the disposables wouldn’t shave me properly, but after slicing my face to shreds relearning how to use one (and from the left side, because my right hand doesn’t work right), I said “screw this” and grew a beard.

I don’t get this trend among men today to rid themselves of their body hair (I think they call it “manscaping”). When I was a kid, I wanted my body hair to grow in, and it wouldn’t. I finally started growing hair on my chest when I was forty, and it came in gray.

None of the forgoing (I think that’s the right term) has anything to do will “chill,” but I get sidetracked sometimes and, well, you see the results.

It’s been chilly in the house, and two of my cats are sleeping in the bedroom, on the bed, close to the head of the bed, because a stream of warm air comes up through there from the heat register on the wall behind the bed. Homer, one of the two baby kittens that we adopted after they were taken from their feral mother in a “trap, neuter, and release” sweep, and his girlfriend CeCe, who we found in Edwardsville, Illinois on one of our trips north and brought home, are the couple. We think CeCe is feral, because she’s terrified of us, me in particular. That is, unless Homer is around. She had originally attached herself to Jethro, Homer’s brother, but he died. God knows what we’ll do if Homer goes. She won’t come anywhere near us.

All right, I’ve rambled on long enough here…

The prompt was “chill.”


Author: John Holton

I'm a writer and blogger who writes and blogs about things that interest me.

13 thoughts on “Some Stream-Of-Consciousness On “Chill””

  1. My husband used to use the safety razor shaver, double bladed, then the injector type. Now it’s those disposable ones. He never liked the electric shavers. Hope you feel better soon, and have a wonderful Christmas and New Year! 🙂


  2. Feel better! Colds are not fun. I think my immune systems is really good. I work at a Family Support Division, so all kinds of sick people come in to the office and spread the lovelies. I have never had the chicken pox. My kids have never had the chicken pox. My sister has never had the chicken pox. The doctor told me I might be naturally immune since I received the vaccination and it did not take. Also, been exposed tons of times. I only have one cat. She likes to sleep on the kitchen counter. 🙂


    1. Having a good immune system is a blessing, trust me. And, there’s a better than average chance you won’t get shingles, either. I’ve had my vaccine, which is no guarantee I won’t get shingles, just that if I do it’ll be a “mild” case. Or so they tell me.


  3. Feel better soon. You know the routine – liquids and plenty of rest. My husband belongs to the Dollar Shave Club, which he likes. Inexpensive way to have new blades on hand and they send you free goodies every now and then.


  4. I have a bad immune system, but others have it worse, and I’m kinda used to it, so I try not to complain, but sometimes it sucks. When I was teaching, I was chronically ill. I’ve had the chicken pox twice, which only happens to 3% of the population, so I’m certain I’ll get shingles. This year I was healthy for 46 weeks and that is a lifetime record for me, so at least 2016 blessed me with that!
    I was told by the ob/gyn that if you live with a cat 10+ years, you probably already have toxoplasmosis, and it’s not a big deal unless you get it WHILE you’re expecting, so I’m guessin y’all are safe 🙂
    My husband uses the single blade safety razor and it works about 1000 times better, but of course, he has a goatee, so it’s not whole face every day. He has a specialty blade thing, like a curved vehicle, for his head.
    I like your stream of consciousness, any day of the week. You tell a good story.


    1. Be sure and get the shingles vaccine as soon as you can. It might not stop you getting them, but it’ll keep you from getting a bad case of it. We had a friend that had them and she was just miserable. Glad you liked the stream of consciousness!

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I discovered a kitten in our neighborhood that I’m pretty sure was feral. It wouldn’t let me help it and now I can’t find it. I thought I could get ANY cat to come to me, but feral cats are a whole different ball game.


    1. Ferals are an interesting lot. When we moved here, we were adopted by one, who would come around for food, but we couldn’t get close to him. He just about got comfortable with us less than five feet away, then we never saw him again. He was probably an old feral in bad health.

      CeCe’s lived with us most of her life, and you’d think by now she’d at least be used to us… then again, we had a cat who delivered five kittens, all of whom lived their entire lives with us, and two of them didn’t let us touch them. They were calicos, and I think they’re a little psycho, anyway. On the other hand, they had a tortie sister, and she was very friendly. Torties are generally nuts, but she wasn’t. Go figure.


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