It took me ’til Friday to get the house whipped back into shape after my visit to Nance last week. Which leads me to ask this question: If I have it written into my will that, if I predecease Fred, he MUST hire someone to come in at least twice a month to completely clean the house, can anyone actually compel him to do so?
Look, it’s not like I require a spotless house or anything – when you’ve got this goddamn many cats running around, requiring a spotless house is a first-class seat on the train to Crazytown – but I do have SOME standards. I sweep up the litter the cats track out of the litter boxes in the laundry room after I scoop the litter boxes. I never leave dishes in the sink overnight, because that’s a sure invitation to someone to pee on them (and I’m not talking about Fred, hyuck hyuck). I like to scrub the sinks at least once a day. I wipe down all the kitchen counters at least once a day – hell, I don’t ALWAYS move the canisters and stuff to wipe around them, I just get the big, uncluttered areas and call it good enough. On the days when Fred is working late and I have to feed the pigs, I let George lick the bucket and then I rinse the bucket out with warm soapy water, because if you don’t, the entire kitchen stinks like stinky dog breath. I vacuum about every third day (though I really think that the house probably needs to be vacuumed every day, I can’t bring myself to actually do it).
None of that is even on Fred’s radar. He vacuumed once while I was gone – the day before I got home – and he didn’t even vacuum the entire house. He vacuumed the downstairs and the staircase as far as the landing, which is why when I walked up the stairs to unpack, the bottom half of the staircase was mostly cat hair-free, but the top half had cat hair bunnies the size of my head.
I suppose I should be happy that he made sure the cats were fed and their litter boxes were scooped. And hey, he even watered my raised-bed tomato plants without being told!
Speaking of my raised-bed tomato plants, I turned the water on to water them Saturday morning, then promptly forgot the water was going until three hours later, when we were headed to Decatur for lunch. By the time I got the water turned off, it had been running for 4 1/2 hours.
Those are some watered motherfucking tomatoes, let me tell you.
I think I forgot to tell y’all what kind of netbook I got, remember when I was all “WHAT KIND OF NETBOOK DO I WANT?!?!” and y’all gave suggestions and then someone stepped up and was all “I wouldn’t make a purchase like that without, y’know, handling the equipment first, stupid” so then I ran around from store to store, fondling netbooks and determining what I did and didn’t like? I made my decision, and I ended up with a Toshiba Mini, in black. I eyeballed the blue one for a long, long time but it was more expensive.
I got some real use out of the Mini while I was in Pennsylvania, and I’ve got to tell you – two thumbs way, way up. I turned the touchpad off, because I hate touchpads, I’m a mouse girl all the way. The keyboard was perfect for my hands. There were times when the Mini was a little slow, but as soon as I got frustrated, I’d stop and think “This is a netbook, not a desktop”, and it always calmed me down. I did upgrade the memory from 1 GB to 2, and I think that was a wise choice on my part.
My carry-on bag – the one that held my netbook, camera, Kindle, iPod, and ten thousand charging cords – was super-light. Next time I travel, though, I think I’m going to leave the Kindle at home. I never really do any reading while I’m on vacation, and I have entertainment magazines that the awesome Katherine hands down to me that I read on the plane ’til we hit the point where the captain announces we can use electronic devices, whereupon I pull out my iPod. I’m still slowly working my way through season 2 of Gossip Girl, and enjoying every brain-candy moment of it.
(Regarding Gossip Girl: I can’t help it, I LIKE Chuck, I’m a little annoyed by Dan, I think Jenny needs to be seriously grounded, and I do NOT get why everyone acts like Serena is ALL THAT, when Blair glows with the light of a thousand suns every time she’s on screen. Also, we’ve hit the “Lily has a SEKRIT” portion of the show, and I have come to the realization that Lily is a spoiled rotten princess. You need someone to pay off the guy who uncovered your SEKRIT, Lily? Goddamn do it yourself, don’t ORDER your mother to do it, you entitled bitch! That is all.)
Oh, and I just remembered – one thing I really, really like about my netbook is that it’s so light, I can lay in bed and surf the internet with the netbook laying on my stomach, and it’s no heavier than a hardcover book.
That said, I got an email this morning from Sam’s Club. They’ve got a Nickelodeon Dell Mini on sale for $227, if anyone out there has a need for one.
Rhyme. LOVE him. At this point, all four of the Bookworms have figured out how to get from the floor to the counter, the counter to the top of the fridge, and the top of the fridge to the top of the cupboards. They hang out there from time to time, though never all four at once. YET.
Whenever I go on vacation, I worry that by the time I get back, the fosters will have forgotten me, and I’ll have to start all over again. Melodie and Dodger did seem a little “And who are YOU?” for a couple of days after I got back, but something shifted suddenly over the weekend, and now not only is Melodie on the floor as soon as I walk into the room (instead of staying on the cat tree), she’s rubbing up against me, she’s demanding petting, she’s picking fights with Martin, she’s playing like a wild thing.
It’s really nice to see, I’ve gotta say.
Dodger’s still a touch on the nervous side, but he’s definitely coming around. He is SUCH a little love – he rubs on the other cats, he rubs on the chair, he rubs on the wall. He’ll walk across the room with his tail sideways like he’s rubbing on something in another dimension only he can see. And he’s one submissive little monkey – yesterday, Martin jumped on him, and they both kind of slid to the floor. Dodger just purred and looked at Martin like “Do whatever you want with me, I LOVE YOU.” Martin was annoyed that Dodger didn’t fight back, and stomped off for greener pastures only to get his butt kicked by Moxie, who will put up with none of his shenanigans.
I saw a copy of Cat Fancy a few days ago, and on the cover was a Bombay cat. I looked around online, and I really think that our miss Moxie is at least part American Bombay. She’s got the silky coat, the beautiful eyes, and the personality.
Speaking of the silky fur, both of the girls in this bunch have that lovely, silky fur that’s such a pleasure to touch. The boys both have coarse fur that isn’t nearly as soft (which is not to say that it stops me from petting them, of course!).
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: And just like Alice, I get MY beefsteak wholesale, too.
2006: Questions answered.
2005: No entry.
2004: Oh, by the way? When you tell someone “Don’t worry, I won’t be back to read your journal”? Please. EVERYONE knows that means “I’m going to come back every six seconds to see the reactions to my asshole comment”.
2003: No entry.
2002: CHECK THOSE FEEDBACKS, people!
2001: 16 miles. Yeah, baby!
2000: I swear to god, that cat is half monkey.