reading Rise and Shine by Anna Quindlen and enjoying it, but there was this one bit toward the beginning of the book that had me howling: I’m sure Evan had never encountered anyone like Meghan before. Evan’s parents are the quietest people on earth. When she’s feeling froggy, his mother will say, “Oh, you,” to her husband, and he’ll squeeze her forearm. That’s the equivalent of all hell breaking loose in the Grater household. Laughed my ASS off.
We got home late Friday night and went straight to bed.
Saturday morning I had thought I might sleep in, but I was up and wide awake at 6:30, so I got up and did my usual morning stuff, and we were out the door by 8. Once we got to the house, we turned the heat on, and then I went into Fred’s bedroom to finish what I’d started the night before. That didn’t take long, so I spent the rest of the morning taping the spud’s bedroom and vacuuming up all the crap off the floor, and other things I can’t seem to recall at the moment.
After lunch, Fred suggested that since it was such a nice day out, we spend some time working in the yard. I was ALL for that and at some point we made a trip to Lowe’s so Fred could get a new toy to make working in the yard that much easier.
You can imagine my concern.
While Fred chopped down some trees and the fence posts behind the shed I walked around the yard and picked up some more crap, then got on the lawnmower and cut the yard in front of the garage (the side yard, I call it). It took me longer than I’d expected (mostly because I had to keep stopping and picking up stuff I hadn’t seen when I was walking through the yard), but when I was done the yard looked pretty damn good. Well, except for the hilly parts I’ll need a push mower to cut, that is. I didn’t relish the thought of taking the riding lawnmower up on the hilly parts and having it roll over on top of me.
Naturally, I forgot the damn “before” and “after” pictures, so here’s a shot of Fred yanking down a tree.
After he’d done some Manly Man work, Fred went inside to prime the walls and trim of his bedroom and I stayed outside and dug more chunks of concrete and bricks out of the lawn next to the house.
We left somewhat early on Saturday and were home before dark, which I think is a first for us.
Sunday morning we were out the door early, too, and because we’d left the heat turned down to 55, it was FREAKIN COLD when we got there. I immediately turned the heat up to 68 (downstairs) and 65 (upstairs) and we got to work. I taped Fred’s bedroom so he could paint and then set to priming the closet in that bedroom. The closet is HUGE; it could practically be another room, or a nursery or something, so it took me all morning to finish. I was almost finished with one wall when Fred appeared and said “Come here, and bring your camera.”
That’s always something I like to hear, so I grabbed my camera and followed him.
Now, I know I’ve mentioned the little black cat – “Momma Kitty” – who first appeared a few weeks before we bought the house, who had clearly recently had a litter of kittens. She’s shown up several times since, both alone and with a male buff-colored cat who we’d taken to calling “Daddy Kitty.”
Well, Momma and Daddy had come a-callin’. And they weren’t alone.
Altogether, there were four kittens – two black and white, one brown tabby and white, and one gray tabby. Two of them were friendly, but the other two were a little skittish. Momma Kitty is friendly and Daddy Kitty tends to be skittish, so I guess their kittens took after both of them.
We spent quite a bit of time on the porch hanging out with them, and they ended up spending almost all day hanging out on the porch sleeping and playing.
We wondered if they were homeless, but they were all in really good shape, clearly not underfed, clean silky fur, and had obviously spent time around people. I suggested to Fred that I call the shelter manager today and see if we could foster at least the kittens until space opened up at the pet store. They’re obviously old enough to be away from their parents and eating solid food. All they’d need is to be fixed and to get their shots.
I was all ready to foster the kittens when Fred went over and talked to our next door neighbor and found that they belong to the people on the other side of him (the neighbor, that is).
The worst part is that we’re pretty sure Momma Kitty is pregnant again.
I fumed and fussed and said “I don’t CARE if she belongs to someone, if she’s pregnant again I’m bringing her inside until she has those kittens, and when they’re weaned I’m going to have her fixed and then I’ll let her back outside again!”
Did I mention she has worms?
Fred said “You can’t do that. She’s their cat, you can’t save the entire world of cats!”
We talked some more and decided that we (I nominate Fred) should talk to the neighbors and offer to (1) find homes for the kittens through the shelter and (2) offer to have Momma Kitty and Daddy Kitty fixed. Yeah, #2 might make them feel like jerks and could possibly offend them, but Momma Kitty needs a break from the whole creating-life giving-birth thing!
I’ll report back how that conversation goes.
So after I finished priming the closet and Fred finished painting the spud’s room, we decided to do some work in the yard. Fred went off to cut down some more trees, and I went into the front yard to clear the pile of crap around the big tree next to the house. It didn’t look like that much, but what I ended up with were piles of leaves and branches and wood that took Fred five or six trips with the tractor so I could load up the frontloader and he could carry it back to the burn pile. I would have just run over the leaves with the lawnmower, but there were so many branches – very thick ones, too – that I was afraid I’d end up breaking the lawnmover blade.
I don’t know if that’s something that could happen, but it seemed like it might.
While I was clearing out the pile of trash, I found some interesting things.
Rusty axe. Because where would one put a rusty axe? Under the tree in the yard, of course. Unless maybe a serial killer dumped it under the tree on his way out of town. And now my fingerprints are all over it. Uh oh!
Free kitten’s what? Kitten’s mittens? Kitten’s toes? Kitten’s kittens?
Air rifle. I only know it’s an air rifle (and not, say, a BB gun) because it says “Air Rifle” on it. I don’t know what one does with an air rifle (does it shoot air?), but I know this one’s going on the pile o’ crap we’re tossing into a dump truck this weekend.
I think we’d intended (at least, I intended) to leave the house around 5, but it was almost 6 by the time we pulled out of the driveway, because it took me longer than I thought it would to mow the front yard. It looks really good – at least, I think so – but again, we need to bring the push mower out so I can mow the hilly areas.
And that was our exciting house-working weekend. This week I want to get the other side of the house and the back yard cleared of rocks, concrete and bricks, and then mowed. I also have to start painting the doors that go to the spud’s bedroom and the guest bedroom. Fred took them down and I’d intended to start painting them over the weekend, but just didn’t get around to it.
While recovering from his brush with Malevolent Madeleine, Spidey keeps an eye out for trouble.
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Ugh. These things are everywhere.
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Zombie cat!
I need a bigger desk. Miz Poo isn’t going to take the usurpation of her bed by that stinkin’ kitten very well.
Soda tickles her nose.
More pictures here.