* * * This weekend I painted and painted and painted. And then? I painted some more. Not only did I have doors to paint, I had the trim between the computer room and bathroom to paint (which I did) and then on Sunday while Fred fiddle-farted around outside, I painted the trim in the downstairs hallway, all by myself. Twice. It was actually not all that bad because (for Sunday at least) Fred was off doing his own thing and I was alone in the house with my iPod and my bucket of paint, and I listened to Keith and the Girl and painted, and it was not quite relaxing and not quite enjoyable, but certainly not the hell that painting has been in the past. Plus, I think I might be getting a little faster with the painting. When we were done with the hallway, I looked at it, and I could see every little flaw, every drippy bit of paint that I didn’t realize was dripping ’til it had dried, and I thought “Well, when we’re living here, maybe I’ll sand down the trim and repaint it!”, but I think that we all know that it’s more likely that Sugarbutt will whisk Miz Poo into a perky waltz about the living room before I actually get off my dead ass and sand down the trim so that I don’t have to look at the drippy bits. If there’s anything I know, it’s that I can quite easily turn a blind eye to the drippy bits. Check out Fred’s journal for pictures of what we’ve finished recently. Saturday afternoon I spent zipping about the side and back lawn with the riding lawnmower. Those are the only parts of the quote-unquote lawn that I haven’t mowed yet, and while the grass wasn’t particularly long, I was struck with the urge to be outside, and there was a thick pile of leaves all over the lawn, and so it took me a couple of hours to pick up all the leaves with the riding lawnmower and dump them into a pile on the back lawn with the intent of burning them on Sunday, which I never did do. Either I’ll burn the leaves next weekend, or I’ll get tired of seeing the pile there, and demand that Fred push them into some out-of-the-way location so I don’t have to look at them. Two things I have recently concluded: 1. The perfectly-manicured lawn of the ‘burbs just isn’t meant to be when one lives in the country where there are trees tossing down leaves all the live-long day and trees are blocking sunlight on one side of the house so that grass won’t grow. Don’t get me wrong – we’ll keep our grass cut short and all, but I’m not going to freakin’ EDGE around the driveway or any of that shit. Life is TOO SHORT. 2. One cannot possibly be expected to pick up every branch off the lawn so that one will not run them over with the riding lawnmower, especially when there are so many big-ass trees that shed big branches constantly. If I were to pick up every branch and big twig I saw, I’d do nothing BUT pick up twigs and branches all day long, and life? Did I mention? TOO SHORT. One other thing: Newt, who was the biggest, scarediest scaredy-cat back when we first met him, is now a big lovebug. He loves to stretch out on the front porch for a belly rub, he loves to follow us around when we walk around the perimeter of our property, and yesterday I was in the computer room switching out switches and plugs, and I heard a strange sound, so I turned off my iPod and went into the hallway, and he was coming down the stairs, gave me a big squeaky greeting, and rubbed against my legs. Then he followed me into the bathroom to watch me pee. Apparently Fred had left the back door open, and the screen door hangs open just enough that a cat can sneak in, so he did. Boy, it’s a GOOD THING he’s not OUR cat, huh? Two things about our country cats I have learned: 1. They will eat ANYTHING, and they’ll be GRATEFUL for it. Seriously, they’ve eaten just about every single thing we’ve put down in front of them, and then they’ve given us looks o’ love afterwards. Our city cats will delicately pick at whatever yummy food you give them, and they will take FOREVER to eat it, and sometimes they’ll even turn up their noses, look at us like “You expect me to eat THAT?” and walk away, but in the country, you put a plate of snackin’ snack down in front of them, and it’s gone in about ten seconds. 2. Um. I don’t remember what the second thing was. I guess I’ve only learned one thing about country cats. She’ll sit on Fred’s lap forEVER. She loves loves LOVES him. Which is funny, considering how timid she was around him at first.   ***************************************   The Christmas kitties are still here! The cages at the pet store are full, so maybe they’ll be going to the pet store later this week (depending on adoptions), and maybe not. I don’t guess I need to tell y’all that I did a little happy dance when I saw the full cages and realized I would be keeping the kittens for a little while longer, do I? We haven’t let them out of the kitten room to run around the house yet, but in the last few days they’ve started trying to escape when we open the door, so tonight we’re going to let them out to terrorize our cats. I’m sure there’ll be pictures of THAT little dramafest in tomorrow’s entry. “Look, lady. Here’s the thing. I’m cute. I know it, you know, they all know it. You do NOT need to keep picking me up and kissing me and then telling me I’m cute. I KNOW I AM. Just stop it, because I might be cute, but I have an inner bad girl I will not HESITATE to unleash on you.”   “No house could possibly have enough orange kitties. You KNOW IT’S TRUE, lady!”   “Santa? Izzat YOU?”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.    

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Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: He yawned his ears right off his head. 2003: “Well,” he said, all smug and certain of his facts. “If you didn’t have DIARRHEA, then it was NOT the flu! It’s just a cold!” 2002: But is Christmas shopping ever really done? 2001: The usual excitement 2000: Grandma’s other concerns were whether the fire was going out (it wasn’t) and how much Fred and Becky were eating. 1999: When did Toronto become part of the United States, again?]]>