Fleas. On the upside, the mysterious bumps all over my legs that Dr. Google had me convinced was some horrific auto-immune disease are suddenly much less concerning.
Sometimes I'm not really sure that pet ownership is worth all the headaches.
5am: Meow! I'm hungry! Meow! Meow! Hee, hee, hee. I got her out of bed even though there is food in my bowl.
5:30am: Meow! Meow! Hee, hee, hee, I got her out of bed again. Why did I get her out of bed? Hmm. I think I will lie down right here and take a snooze while I think it over.
6:10am: I remember! Meow! Meow! Let me out! Meow! Meow!
6:11am: What IS that outside! OMG! It is cold and white! Meow! Meow! Let me IN!
6:12am: Clearly the front door is not the way out today. I will get her to let me out the back door.
6:13am: OMG! The white cold stuff is out there too! Meow! Meow! Let me IN!
6:14am: What about the side door? NO! The garage door? NO! Meow!!! Meow!!!!
6:15am: Where IS that litter box? Ewww. She needs to clean it. Now. Meow!!! Meow!!!!
6:17am: Hmm. I wonder if the white stuff is gone from the front. NOOOO! Meow! Meow!!!!
6:20am: I guess I am just going to take another nap. But what does she think she is doing??? The lights are on now, and she isn't headed back to bed. But I wanted to nap! And it is bright and loud and OMG the kids are up!!!!
6:21am: Ahh, under the bed. Nice and quiet and warm. I never should have gotten up this morning.
So at what point do you take a cat to the vet? Dumb Cat is really not himself. He is sneezing and snuffling and curled up looking very bedraggled in the basement. I mean, if he has a cold I know how he feels because if I could curl up in a nice dark place I would, but I've never seen him like this. But can a vet really do anything for a cat with a cold? I have to assume that it is kind of like taking a child to the pediatrician for a runny nose, right? Is there a way to tell if a cat is running a fever?
Who knew I would get so worked up about the heath of Dumb Cat...
On Friday night, I woke up at 5 am or some awful hour like that to the cat door (which I had forgotten to close) slamming and then yeowling. The kind of yeowling that our cats make when chasing a mouse. In my sleep-deprived fog, I tried to convince myself that I was dreaming but then I heard the pouncing and scurrying and forced myself to turn on the lights.
Yep, there was Lazy Cat was chasing a mouse around my bedroom floor. I woke M up, went to find the gloves, came back and he had lost the mouse. Lost. The mouse. In the house. Lazy Cat thought she knew where it was but when we looked where she had staked out, she too had lost the mouse. M climbed back into bed and went to sleep, and I lay awake listening for sounds of the mouse and fuming about husbands and cats who don't understand the issue I have with mice running around my house.
By the morning, still no sign of the mouse. I tried to mouse-proof the bedrooms, putting all the stuffed animals and such up high so no nice nests could be made, and headed off to buy some mouse traps. Thankfully by the time I returned home with the kids from school, Lazy Cat had reacquired the mouse and done her job, unlike Dumb Cat a few weeks ago.
I should really close the cat door down for good. But the number of times a day I am forced to open and close the back door if the cat door is closed is just painful. Grrrr.
The appointment with the allergist was both good and bad. The good, he agreed with the paramedics in that the breathing episode was probably not related to the hives, although of course it was hard to tell. The bad, we still have no real idea what is causing the hives. His best guess at the moment is that she is "allergic to being sick." Which is to say that she gets hives and additional congestion when her immune system kicks in. So as soon as she starts getting a sniffle, we are supposed to start dosing her with Zyrtec and Benedryl and see what happens. We should document the hives and get the pictures to him next time they appear (duh, why haven't I thought of that one before!), and come back to see him in a year when he will do some in-office trials with nuts and such, unless something massive happens.
He did do some testing to environmental allergens and discovered that she is "slightly" allergic to trees, which is why we are waiting another year on the nuts. Don't ask me to explain how the two are related, but apparently there is a link. She is not allergic to the cats (I knew that one, as Dumb Cat naps on her pillow almost every afternoon), grass, or mold.
We should keep lugging the epi-pen around just in case, as the whole "allergic to being sick" thing is just an educated guess. So basically, we walked out knowing not much more than we did walking in. Which isn't horrid I suppose, better than coming out with an "Oh my GOD, how did we miss this life-threatening allergy" diagnosis, worse than coming out with a "Oh, she's allergic to cats, send the cats off to your aunt's house and she will be magically cured." But at least we have a plan to deal with the nuts issue that involves an in-office trial, which makes me feel much more comfortable than randomly trialling them at home.
Thank you again for your support and continuing to read my obsessive posts on this issue. I now return you to your regularly scheduled drivel, which will involve another post in what is now becoming a series of "Look what the cat dragged in." And I have several knitting projects to post, I just have to get around to hassling with hooking up the camera. I believe that I even owe you a tour of my upstairs from almost a year ago, which I just might do if I have the camera hooked up anyway (depending on what the state of Mount Washmore is in my hallway....).
No, I'm not leaving the blogsphere, even for the summer, as it will at some point get too hot to hang out in the shadeless back yard for hours on end and we will be forced indoors for large portions of the day.
But the old house? It is officially somebody else's new house now. The kids cried bitterly when we went over to say a final goodbye yesterday morning. I knew I had moved on when I handed the new owners the key to this house by mistake at the closing.
And Dumb Cat will be in for a rude shock when he goes prowling over there as they apparently have three dogs and two cats. I have a feeling we will be seeing a lot more of him from now on...
Dumb Cat :"Yewol."
Chichimama: "M? Dumb Cat brought in a mouse."
M: "Is it dead or alive?"
Chichimama: "Um, alive."
Dumb Cat chases the mouse into the toy closet. Dumb Cat loses interest in the mouse. The mouse escapes into kitchen. Chichimama throws Dumb Cat at the mouse again. Dumb Cat half heartedly chases the mouse under the buffet in the dining room. Dumb Cat wanders off to the food bowl.
M: "Wait, Chichimama, where are you going?"
Chichimama: "To get the camera of course!"
M: "Um, hello? There is a mouse in the dining room. How about gloves from the garage?"
Chichimama grudgingly procures both gloves and the camera.
M captures the mouse using Chichimama's new magazine. Dumb Cat continues to ponder his food bowl.
M returns the mouse to the great outdoors.
Dumb Cat scratches his neck.
M: "Where do you want me to put the magazine?"
Chichimama: "Throw it out!"
M: "What, are you afraid of the plague or something?"
Chichimama: "Exactly."
Dumb Cat located? Check.
Arrived safely in Florida? Check.
Children well behaved on flight? Check, check.
All bags and belongings accounted for? Check.
Children thrilled to see grandparents? Check.
Grandparents thrilled to see children? Check.
Alligator in the backyard? Check.
Snake on the patio? Check.
Lizard in the bedroom? Check.
There is a reason why I refuse to live in Florida, much to my husband's dismay. I like northern critters and creepy crawly things, thank you very much.
Why is it that Dumb Cat goes missing EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. we are about to go on vacation? Rebecca can attest, she has spent hours hunting for my cat while I have been off gallivanting around. Except unlike the other trips, which generally take place in the summer, this one is taking place when it is fricking cold outside, and icy and snowy and windy. And I am more concerned than usual. Because Dumb Cat is not a fan of the cold and icy and snow and wind. So that fact that it is 2:30am, and I am up, the lights are on and he is not home? Not good. AND, since Rebecca is, well, living in another country, she will not be around to hunt for the missing feline. Poor Lovely Friend, who I am quite sure is wishing she never met me right now, is going to get stuck with that job. Because for all my blustering, I will be rather upset if something happens to that cat.
And, it is supposed to be cold in Florida. Right up until the day after we leave. Whaaahhhh.
I never discovered what Dumb Cat was after the other night. Eventually he gave up his prowl and began whining for more food, and that was that. But as M and I were watching Sea Biscuit last night (we're only a few years behind in movies), we heard a scratching at the now sealed cat door. "Dumb Cat" we said as we rolled out eyes, and then noticed that Dumb Cat was accounted for on the chair. M headed over to the cat door mumbling "It isn't the NEIGHBOR cat, is it?"
But, indeed, it was. There the cat sat, scratching at the door asking to come in to a house that was not his. M wanted to open the door so he could pet the cat (who's the softy here, huh?) while asking if the cat was nice. "How would I know? I've been mean to it. I don't want another cat thank you very little," I replied. Then M started wondering if it had a home. "Maybe it's a stray?" "That cat is too fat to be a stray," I insisted. Eventually, I went to the door and gave it "Mommy Angry Face" and it took off.
But this morning when I woke up, it was sitting on our porch furniture. You don't REALLY think this is a stray cat, do you? I mean, it is FAT. Not quite as fat as Lazy Cat, but much fatter than I would expect from a stray....
I am NOT getting involved with this cat. I am just not.
Dumb Cat is currently growling and flicking his tail in a very focused manner in the middle of the family room. Clearly he is hunting something. I am just very unclear what it is that he is hunting. And it makes me a bit nervous. After the mouse incident, and then the visiting cat hubbub, can you blame me? Now Lazy Cat is in on the action, but I am unclear on whether that is because she is curious as to what Dumb Cat sees, or whether I am missing the giant rabbit in the room somehow.
One of the major perks of our new house is the cat door that is built into the sun porch. For the past few months, I have not had to let a cat in or out of the door, there have been no flying objects launching themselves against the windows, no loud bangs on the doors, no howls in the middle of the night when someone hasn't realized that bedtime had arrived for the human residents of the household. So when I was awoken by cat noises in the middle of the night, I was a bit confused for a few minutes.
I finally decided that the cats were bickering about the cozy spot on top of the heating vent downstairs and got up to investigate, only to realize that one of the cats was snoring away at the foot of the bed. More confusion clouded my already foggy brain. If Lazy Cat was asleep on the bed, what on EARTH was Dumb Cat DOING? Finally it clicked in, clearly another cat had found the entrance to our home through the miraculous cat door. As I raced downstairs, I did indeed hear the telltale thwank of the cat door swinging after someone had gone through it. And I found Dumb Cat pacing back and forth, staring at the swinging cat door.
I headed back upstairs and explained what had happened to M. "Well, you closed the cat door, right?" he asked. "Really? You think I have to do that?" I replied sadly. Silence. "Right. OK." So, with a heavy heart, I closed the cat door. I was so nice while it lasted. On the upside, I now know why the cats have been peeing around the house, and why we have been going through outrageous quantities of cat food. On the downside, I was interrupted five times while tying this to let a cat in or out.
Once we sell the other house, we are SO getting one of these....
Rebecca put me to shame, giving everyone a virtual tour of her home long after I promised pics of our house. And since y'all lived through the move with me, and Rebecca and family have never seen the new homestead with furniture, I thought I would finally get around to them.
I'll skip the entry as that was covered in the previous photo tour.* It hasn't changed much, the dry clean only covers are still on the benches, and probably will stay there until they get so gross that I cave and make some more practical ones. I did get most of the tools moved down te basement though.
So from the entry, you can go straight up the stairs...
(note the coat closet the size of a pea and the banister that M installed over the summer), left into the living room or right into the dining room. We'll go right into the dining room so everyone can oooh and ahh over the paint job.
Oooh, ahh. It doesn't match the rug as well as I thought (the rug picture didn't come out) but I'm not going to repaint it anytime soon. Maybe the rug will fade now that it sees the light of day.
But enough about the paint, let's continue on to the kitchen, which is through a door to the left of the dining room table.
Lots and lots of white cabinets. Great for storage, not so great for keeping free of paint, mud, and food fingerprints and smudges.
There is a lot of stuff on the counters. I know. But I can't quite seem to get the kitchen organized right. I think I just have to take everything out and start all over again in the organization department (M is rolling his eyes right now).
And look, the kitchen table did fit! As you can see, C and A are in the middle of making a castle out of tin foil and paper. Because we are all about castles now that Julia and Evan live near the queen. Off to the right there, you can see the door to M's office...
and proof that my husband does indeed love me.
Bookshelves! In the kitchen! For my cookbooks! I've chosen to ignore the fact that the only reason they got put up was because he didn't want the cookbooks in his office. It was because he loves me I tell you. But I digress...
Behind the kitchen table is what we choose to call the odd place.
We have no idea why it is there, since the family room is not even two steps away. For now, it is the train room. If anyone else has any suggestions on what we can do with it once the train stage is over, I'm all ears. The angle looks a little odd because I am standing at the top of two steps that lead down into the room.
Speaking of the family room, here it is. The picture is taken from the top of the stairs to the odd space. Just so you know how close we are talking here.
Do you see the sunlight? Do you see it? Do you see how happy all this sun makes me? Happy happy happy. So happy that I only yelled for a little bit right now when C decided to cut a hole in the only pair of sweatpants that still fit him. Hmm, I wonder where I put that Carter's Outlet coupon....
Anyway, here is the chair in which I blog and knit.
Lazy cat is snoozing on top. It seems to be her favorite place to sleep in this house. So as I type there are generally kitty snores and purrs in my ear. It makes knitting a bit challenging though, as she likes to bat at the yarn.
Finally, to complete our tour, the living room, shot from the family room. If you look closely, you can see dumb cat snoozing. Clearly not catching mice. The diet hasn't worked out so well.
The living room is the dumping ground for everything that hasn't found a home. And very dark because all of the lights are still over at the old house lighting that in hopes that someone buys it. So if you are coming anytime soon (or not so soon, let's be realistic here) don't expect to sit in the living room, 'kay?
Next week we'll head upstairs, much less exciting. Bedrooms. A small hallway. A pink bathroom.
*And if you check out the photo tour, you can see where all the furniture was in the the old house. Fun fun and more fun for all those interior decorators out there who are rolling their eyes right now and saying "NO! Don't put the couch against the wall! It's rule number one!" But where else are you supposed to put them?
This morning during breakfast, a little gray furry thing ran across my floor. "A mouse! A mouse! There is a mouse in my house!" I squeaked as I jumped out of my chair and ran to the other room. Nana yelled at me not to impart my fear of small rodents onto my children, and M suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to get those mouse traps we had talked about last week.
I quickly raced upstairs to get Dumb Cat, who was snoozing upstairs after a hard night prowling the neighborhood. Upon being presented with an easy snack, Dumb Cat looked at the mouse, looked at us, and tried to head back to bed. We pointed him at the mouse again, and you could see the big sigh as he half heartedly launched himself towards the mouse. As the mouse took off, Dumb Cat sat and watched. M and Grampa S finally corralled both cat and mouse in a small room, and Dumb Cat spent a few minutes putting on a show and then decided to take a bath and head back to bed. Lazy Cat never even bothered to move from her sunny spot. Grampa S finally had to do the deed and put "Mouskins" out of his misery.
My cats are clearly getting spoiled and old. Next week I am putting Dumb Cat on a diet in hopes of stimulating his hunting instincts. If I am going to spend my day letting him in and out of the house, the least he can do is take care of the rodent population.
Chaos is slowly being restored to our lives. When I leave in the morning, the breakfast dishes are in the sink and the beds are unmade. If the toys are out in the playroom, oh well. Life is good. Except the chaos bothers me more than it used to. Not enough so that I am inspired to DO anything about it, but enough so a little voice over my shoulder sometimes whispers "Wasn't it NICE to walk into a clean house?" I then promptly swat that little voice away with a big booming "But I was a B-I-T-C-H on wheels to my kids, and that was no fun either."
Beyond the chaos, we seem to be slowing settling into our new home and routines. After several retrievals from the old house, Dumb Cat seems to have figured out where the people now live, and returns after his jaunts around town. Although he insists on howling to be let in at the front door, which means I only hear him if I am walking upstairs and he seems less than enthused about the back door for reasons that are clear only to him.
The kids alternate between "We love the new house" and "We miss the old house," which is only to be expected I suppose. I just wish they would start sleeping for longer than two hours a clip. The toys are all back out, and several old favorites have been rediscovered. Like the Legos and puzzles, which disappeared with the arrival of the for sale sign, as who has time to pick up 500 Legos and sort fifteen puzzles when someone is about to arrive on your doorstep?
M has flown off to, well, someplace, as tis the season to travel. Except right now he is trapped at Newark, because it is raining and Newark doesn't seem to like to send planes up in the air when it rains. But when he is in residence he is wallowing in the joy of a fully networked house and a screened porch that keeps the bugs at bay.
I've been battling with the various appliances, most notabley the microwave and I have yet to have a meeting of the minds. I need to get pointers from Rebecca on cook times as I think it is the same brand as she used to have. I LOVE the new range, I can actually control the burner heat instead of having "super hot" and "off." The oven, however, seems to be quirky. I think I actually need to dig out the manual as there are several buttons that are not self-explanatory, and the two meals I have tried to cook in there have turned out dismally. Clearly I am missing some critical piece of information, like how to actually get it to turn on. The dishwasher and drier rock, they both take half the time as our old ones saving both time and money. Whirlpool is my new favorite brand folks.
I know I promised pictures, but the camera is among the missing items yet to be discovered. Perhaps tomorrow it will be found as I actually need to pick up for A's little playgroup who are arriving to inspect the house with furniture and toys. Although these people know me well enough now that I don't really feel obligated to pick up for them. Except, well, I do because I'm compulsive that way. But I like to THINK that I won't pick up for them. Ahem.
So hopefully in a few days things will return to as close to normal as possible, and I might have enough brain cells regenerate to be able to whip out a decent post. Or, I'll just continue in my current vein until I throw up my hands and start posting random pictures of the cats.
Gwynnethe over at one of my new reads tagged me for this one. And since it is T-minus 36 hours to the move, a meme is about the right speed for me! I have a vague suspicion that I still own someone else a meme, if it is you, let me know and I'll jump right to it! Not that I am procastinating or anything...
1. What is your occupation? CHO (Chief Home Officer) in case you haven't bothered to read my profile..
2. What color are your socks right now? Black, grey and aqua stripped. I like funky socks since I spend most of my day shoeless.
3. What are you listening to right now? A calling me from the top of the stairs "IS quiet time OVER yet? HELLO?? HEL-LO?" Oh, and Blues Too Much by the John Mehegan Trio.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? A Veggie Delite sandwich from Subway. Today was A and my girl's lunch out since C ate at school.
5. Can you drive a stick shift? It is my preferred mode of transportation. Although right now I drive an automatic.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Brown. Plain old brown.
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My real estate agent. And no, she had no good news for me.
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? One of my new blog finds! So far so good!
9. How old are you today? 34 years, 10 months.
10. Favorite drink? caffeine Free Diet Coke
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? I don't tend to watch sports. At all. I guess college football, but only if it involves a lazy afternoon on the couch with nachos and a nap.
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? Um, I have no idea what my real color is. Really.
13. Pets? Two cats, Millie and the General (otherwise known as Lazy Cat and Dumb Cat).
14. Favorite food? Ohh, tough one. I would have to go with sushi. Closely followed by a frozen pizza.
15. What was the last movie you watched? Movie? What is this that you speak of? I think it was The Weatherman. At least that is the last one I stayed awake for...
16. What was the last book you read? Play Ball Amelia Bedelia. Oh, wait. You were talking about GROWNUP books? Umm, hold on. Oh! Right! Japanland. I highly, highly recommend.
17. What do you do to vent anger? I yell. Then I stomp my foot. Like a two year old. Yep.
18. What was your favorite toy as a child? Breyer horses. And paper dolls.
19. What is your favorite fall or spring? Fall
20. Hugs or kisses? Hugs.
21. Cherries or blueberries? Blueberries
22. Do you want your friends to email you back? With one exception, my friends don't email.
23. Living arrangements? Lost in a sea of boxes.
24. When was the last time you cried? I actually don't know. Sometime in the last few weeks, but it wasn't in the last few days at least. Now ask me when the last time I threw up my hands and exclaimed "I GIVE UP!" was...
25. What did you do last night? Ate a frozen pizza and packed boxes of random junk.
26. Favorite smells? Freshly cut grass. Bread in the oven.
27. What inspires you? I'm not one to be inspired, I must admit.
28. What are you afraid of? Dying before my kids are grownup.
29. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? I don't like hamburgers. If faced with no other options, a thin one smothered in cheese and burnt to a crisp. But generally I would prefer to starve.
30. Favorite dog breed? Great Pyranese.
31. Number of keys on your key ring? HA! Let's see. New house key, old house key. Garage door key. My car key, M's car key, key to my parent's house in Maine. Keys to my old office (from four years ago). Guess it is time to clean off my key chain, huh?
32. How many years at your current job? Four and a half.
33. Favorite day of the week? Friday
34. How many states have you lived in? Three. Six if you count family summer homes and every other weekend at my dad's growing up.
35. Favorite holidays? Groundhog Day. Really. That doesn't count as a holiday? Sure it does! In fact, the kids and I have decided to throw annual Groundhog Day parties. Because who doesn't like a good party in the middle of winter?
35. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery? Does a tractor count? I used to drive a tractor. And a pick up truck. Motorcycles scare me.
Almost a week past skunking, and seven baths later, dumb cat still smells of skunk. At least he hasn't been dumb enough to get on my bed. Perhaps he does have a brain or two in there after all...
Yep. It had to happen sometime. Dumb cat (who I DO love very much, despite his nickname) got skunked. The worst part? I didn't figure it out until he had come into the house and made himself comfortable for a few hours in the dirty laundry basket in my closet. At least it wasn't my bed, right?
I now have to face getting rid of the skunk smell from both my cat and my house. The laundry, I'm tempted to just toss it. It was pretty much the kids summer PJs and some in need of replacement anyway underwear. Anyone want to come give a cat a bath?
Edited to add a picture of the poor cat getting his third bath of the day...
Note the baby wash in the background. The poor cat now smells like a mix between a skunk and a baby, go figure. Poor, poor General. Not looking so powerful today.
Although it might be hard to tell over the internets, I have actually done a good job (for me) of keeping the stress over the whole house selling situation in check. I have (sort of) cheerily gone about my business tossing off lines such as "Nothing to be done" or "it will all be fine" to those dumb enough to ask how things are going. Our real estate agent has commented several times over how unstressed I have been.
Ever since we actually purchased the new house, however, my facade has been cracking bit by bit. My voice has starting hitting the upper registers when talking with the real estate agent. I have started crying at the drop of a hat; the poor man at the deli counter yesterday spent 20 minutes searching the back cooler for low-salt turkey breast after I burst into tears when he told me he only had honey roasted. I have started obsessing about minor and not so minor things, like the peeling paint on the kitchen ceiling or the water that seems to be leaking into the basement.
Did you catch that? Yes, water. In my basement. A week after the last rainstorm. Which leads to the unfortunate conclusion that the continued presence of water seeping in through the foundation is caused by some other source, namely a burst pipe of some sort. A buried burst pipe. Somewhere in my front yard. I spent most of the night sitting on the steps of my basement willing the water to go away. Unfortunately, it appears that a watched basement still leaks.
As soon as it got light this morning, I joined the cat on his morning prowl to see if I could somehow disprove my theory. Instead, I quickly discovered that the mulch in the front flower bed that we just recently had relandscaped was sopping wet. So I sat on the front stoop and stared at that, willing it to dry up. Again, no such luck. When M came downstairs to get ready for work, he found me pacing and muttering, clutching my suddenly queasy stomach.
He seemed much less concerned than I about this turn of events, but then again his father is going into the hospital today for another heart procedure, so a leaky basement is probably not all that high on his list of things to worry about. He did inspect the basement and front bed, nodded his head and said "Yep, looks like a problem. We'll call someone to come take a look. There are much worse problems we could have. Don't stress over it. " Which is easier said than done for those of us who obsess over such things.
So as C whines about his hanker sore, and A races around setting up an early morning tea party, and M heads off to work and then the hospital to be with his dad, I continue to clutch my stomach and will the water away. And hope that someone, anyone, will come look at my house and buy it, unidentified leak and all. Excuse me while I go put my head down and cry.
