Samie Hartley

Columnist Samie Hartley isn't quite ready to get into the holiday spirit.

Whenever a host asks for a volunteer, I always put my head down and become transfixed by the ragged state of my nailbeds. I’m an introvert, not an attention seeker, and I know there are others who are excited to take center stage and raise their hands to signify they are willing participants…

I’ve become used to scratches on my body that I can’t explain. When you have two five-month-old kittens running around your house, you tend to lose track of how or when you were clawed, poked or downright stabbed with their baby razor claws.

Right now, I have a perfect paw imprint of claw marks on my chest after I frightened one of the kittens by plopping onto the couch while holding him. Despite my firm grip, the brief five-inch freefall terrified him, sending him scrambling to get away from me as quickly and violently as possible.

Tigger is typically the more relaxed of the two kittens, but he still spooks every now and then. Chase, on the other hand, is perpetually terrified. She likes to have her space. When she wants attention, she will come over to have her love and cuddles, but if you happen to see her sitting quietly and reach out a hand to pet her? No way. She will sprint across the house to avoid being stroked by your well-intentioned digits.

Chase got her name because she was found alone in the parking lot of a Chase Bank in Benicia. She was only about a month old, but there was no mama or siblings in sight.  The volunteers at the animal rescue we adopted her from have no idea how long she was on her own and attribute her shy behavior to her likely abandonment.

In the past month, my husband and I have made a lot of progress with Chase, but she’s still very wary.  When she is feeling safest, she will climb onto my chest and lick my forehead before finding a sweet spot to take a quick nap. While Tigger can fall asleep anywhere, Chase is always alert and on the move.

I carry Tigger around the house like a baby, but Chase doesn’t like to be picked up. Each morning we do a practice hug, where I pick her up for a few seconds, give her a small squeeze and set her down.  She walks across my lap and purrs appreciatively, but she still has to be the one to make first contact. Sometimes I have to point out to Chuck when Chase is lingering by him and ask him to stop what he is doing to give her a light scratch behind the ears. These moments are precious, and I know it will take time to build a rapport with her where she feels completely safe and trusts us.

Granted, we have some setbacks every now and then. We invited the fur babies’ grandparents over for a meet and greet, and while Tigger loved meeting new people, Chase hid most of the time. As she cautiously made her way to living room, she spotted my in-laws and went running for the kitchen, where she managed to shove herself through a small hole in the baseboards and took refuge in a space under a cabinet.

My husband and I hadn’t planned on doing any kitchen remodeling, but several trips were made to the hardware store to collect the tools and materials needed to open up the hole to extract Chase and then plug the space up properly. When I’d put a piece of duct tape over the hole when we first brought them home, I hadn’t calculated what might happen if a five-pound kitten went running at the space at full speed. Lesson learned.

Chuck and I have made a lot of adjustments to our routine since bringing the kittens into our lives, but I have to admit, even with the stresses and the scratches, we seem to smile and laugh more with them in the house.

When I come home at night, I see the silhouette of Chase in her favorite spot in the front window, and it warms my heart instantly. When I walk into the house, Tigger and Chase are typically nearby waiting to greet me. It gives coming home a whole new meaning.

I’ve become used to scratches on my body that I can’t explain. When you have two five-month-old kittens running around your house, you tend to lose track of how or when you were clawed, poked or downright stabbed with their baby razor claws.

Right now, I have a perfect paw imprint of claw marks on my chest after I frightened one of the kittens by plopping onto the couch while holding him. Despite my firm grip, the brief five-inch freefall terrified him, sending him scrambling to get away from me as quickly and violently as possible.

Tigger is typically the more relaxed of the two kittens, but he still spooks every now and then. Chase, on the other hand, is perpetually terrified. She likes to have her space. When she wants attention, she will come over to have her love and cuddles, but if you happen to see her sitting quietly and reach out a hand to pet her? No way. She will sprint across the house to avoid being stroked by your well-intentioned digits.

Chase got her name because she was found alone in the parking lot of a Chase Bank in Benicia. She was only about a month old, but there was no mama or siblings in sight.  The volunteers at the animal rescue we adopted her from have no idea how long she was on her own and attribute her shy behavior to her likely abandonment.

In the past month, my husband and I have made a lot of progress with Chase, but she’s still very wary.  When she is feeling safest, she will climb onto my chest and lick my forehead before finding a sweet spot to take a quick nap. While Tigger can fall asleep anywhere, Chase is always alert and on the move.

I carry Tigger around the house like a baby, but Chase doesn’t like to be picked up. Each morning we do a practice hug, where I pick her up for a few seconds, give her a small squeeze and set her down.  She walks across my lap and purrs appreciatively, but she still has to be the one to make first contact. Sometimes I have to point out to Chuck when Chase is lingering by him and ask him to stop what he is doing to give her a light scratch behind the ears. These moments are precious, and I know it will take time to build a rapport with her where she feels completely safe and trusts us.

Granted, we have some setbacks every now and then. We invited the fur babies’ grandparents over for a meet and greet, and while Tigger loved meeting new people, Chase hid most of the time. As she cautiously made her way to living room, she spotted my in-laws and went running for the kitchen, where she managed to shove herself through a small hole in the baseboards and took refuge in a space under a cabinet.

My husband and I hadn’t planned on doing any kitchen remodeling, but several trips were made to the hardware store to collect the tools and materials needed to open up the hole to extract Chase and then plug the space up properly. When I’d put a piece of duct tape over the hole when we first brought them home, I hadn’t calculated what might happen if a five-pound kitten went running at the space at full speed. Lesson learned.

Chuck and I have made a lot of adjustments to our routine since bringing the kittens into our lives, but I have to admit, even with the stresses and the scratches, we seem to smile and laugh more with them in the house.

When I come home at night, I see the silhouette of Chase in her favorite spot in the front window, and it warms my heart instantly. When I walk into the house, Tigger and Chase are typically nearby waiting to greet me. It gives coming home a whole new meaning.

Somewhere in my genetic code is a program dedicated to worrying. I get it from my Mom’s side. My grandma was a champion worrier, fretting over a kaleidoscope of things big and small. My Mom is also hyper vigilant, allocating worry at a moment’s notice.

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After several years of careful consideration, my husband and I have become paw-rents. We recently adopted two four-month-old kittens from a local animal rescue, and now share our home with Tigger and Chase.

Despite what the calendar says, I’m having trouble believing that it’s August. It seems like the year is speeding by. Where did 2019 go? Halloween decorations are populating store shelves. I even saw Christmas ribbon at Michaels.

“Excuse me.”

I like going out. I’m always looking for new things for my husband and I to do to get us out of our homebody rut. The Bay Area is an amazing place to explore, and there is never a lack of things to discover.

Every time I cut my hair short, my girlfriends say they wish they could do the same. I always tell them the same thing: “Do it! It’s super easy. Just go to the salon and have them chop it off.”

It’s Day 5, and no one at works seems to have noticed.

I always thought when it came time to defend myself, I would tap into my inner warrior princess and roar like a lioness. Instead, when I found myself in a potentially dangerous situation, my brain opted for sarcasm. Rather than scream from the mountain tops, I let out a pitiful “Ummmmm….”

Sick days used to be simple. When I was a kid (circa. 1990), staying home sick from school meant commandeering the couch and starting your reign as couch commander with an hour of “The Price is Right”. This would be followed up with a combination of other game shows, cartoons and possibly a …

The running joke between me and my Mom is that she should have named me Grace. If there is a way to trip, tumble, stumble or flat-out fall down, I will find it. Testing gravity has been a lifelong endeavor.

April is a pretty intense month if you are a pop culture junkie such as myself. This weekend, the final season of “Game of Thrones” debuts on HBO, and at the end of the month Marvel Studios’ Infinity saga concludes with the release of “Avengers: Endgame”.

Hip hop beats of Usher’s “My Boo” leak from ceiling speakers as the “Friends” episode “The One with the ‘Cuffs” plays on the television. I’m trying to read a profile about actor Zachary Levi published in “Men’s Journal” on my cellphone when I hear fighter jets overhead. What kind of Bizarro …

I tend not to fret too much about my appearance, but I do enjoy a few indulgences. I like to get the occasional pedicure, and I treat myself to facials every few months, but I am pretty regular about getting my eyebrows threaded.

I knew I wanted a change, but change is easier said than done. I bought Marie Kondo’s book “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing” a year ago. I’d heard Kondo’s book had inspired thousands of people to conquer their clutter, and I was ready to…

Couch shopping is surprisingly exhausting. In an effort to find an ideal piece of furniture, there are a lot of factors to consider. Are the cushions too soft? Too firm? Does the fabric have an appealing texture? Is the fabric stain resistant? Can I pour a pail of red sauce on it and wipe it…

I have the most awesome Mom on the planet.

Think skinny thoughts. Think skinny thoughts.

I’ve been heavy into my spring cleaning rituals these past few weeks. It’s amazing what you find when you dig into every corner of your home – even when you went through the same motions a year ago.

This had better be worth it.

I was sitting at a table sandwiched between conversations about crown molding and the pros and cons of homeowners associations. I felt myself zoning out. I felt like a girl waiting to step into a game of Double Dutch jump rope, only there were no opportunities for me to join either conversation.

I was surprised when I entered the movie theater to find it nearly full. I figured by now, anyone who’d wanted to see “The Post” had already seen it. It came and left theaters in what little of a year we’ve already had. I was only catching it at the end of February because it was being scree…

I shuddered as the words came out. The other day, I found myself saying “Well, back when I was in school …”

My name has always made life complicated – but not for me. It’s other people who seem to have a problem.

Don’t ask me about the books on my bookshelf. I haven’t read them.

I’m sure, sooner or later, I will be struck down with a cold in the coming weeks. It’s only a matter of time. I can feel it in the air. I can hear it in the muffled coughs of my coworkers.

Santa comes in many forms. For many, Santa is the jolly man in red with a grand, fluffy snow-white beard who delivers hope and good tidings. For me, Santa wears a puffy blue ski jacket.

A coworker put his hand on my shoulder in a playful manner the other day. It was a brief moment – almost like a “Hey, how about those Warriors?” shoulder pat. In the past, this type of interaction wouldn’t bother me, and it still doesn’t. But given the climate of things, when you have a Dirt…

Coming out of a turkey coma is disorienting. My husband and I hosted Thanksgiving this year, and for the first time, we managed the entire menu ourselves. I’m pleased to say we pulled it off.

Napa Valley Register online editor and Simple & Sassy columnist Samie Hartley is blogging about her experiences at this year's Napa Valley Film Festival. She will be checking in throughout the festival to share her thoughts about the festival and the films she sees. She's bringing her hu…

We are in the final stretch. Four days of film down, one to go. Turns out blogging about a film festival isn’t that easy when you have to drive from place to place and stand in line for the films you hope to see. Then when you do have a free moment to write, you hope that your internet hotsp…

I decided I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself in front of 17,000 people. Free movie tickets just aren’t worth that kind of humiliation no matter how brief or forgettable the experience may be.

The first Olympic Games I remember is the 1994 winter contest in Lilllehammer. I remember it mostly because I had to do a school project about the sports, but I also remember it because it was the year Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan squared off on the ice in the most epic figure skating ba…

Film Fest fans aren’t letting rain stop them from traveling the Napa Valley in search of something that will entertain and inspire. Chuck and I left two hours early this morning to make sure we had enough time to make to St. Helena (We live in Solano County), find our venue and find parking …

Sometimes the title says it all. “A Happening of Monumental Proportions” -- that’s a title that intrigues me. The synopsis sold me. The story is about a man who gets fired right before he is about to give a presentation at career day at his daughter’s school. Oh and there was a dead body fou…

Maybe it’s because it is a Wednesday morning or because this is a screening of three documentary shorts, but Chuck and I are easily the youngest people at the Copia Theater. No matter. Our Napa Valley Film Festival experience has officially begun.