September 10th

Hank

In early November, Husband and I moved into our new house.

It has been busy, busy, busy since then. We have fixed a gas pipe and regular water pipes, cleaned hinges and found cabinets not being held up by hinges at all. We have primed and painted the pantry, the kitchen cabinets, the hallway, bathroom cabinets, and our massive hall cabinets and drawers. We have applied contact paper and fixed toilets and kitchen faucets. Husband and his friend used a metal lath to make a male-male faucet screw so that we could use the faucet neck that I picked out without realizing that there was a difference in how they were made. We have mowed the lawn, whacked the weeds, laid the insulation (okay, Husband did most of that). We have created a cleaning cabinet, created a dryer vent, replaced the shower heads and unplugged about six million drains.

It has been alot of work. And then we had cats. Cats who needed shots, who needed to be fixed, who needed some dental care and regular baths. Cats who shed their fur in clumps all over the house, all over the couch, all over the kitchen, all over my bed. Cats who jumped at the first light in the window in the morning and landed on my head. Cats who turned over for a belly rub as soon as I woke up and then scratched at my heel if I passed them by. Cats who laid in my laundry basket and my clean laundry, in my drawers and in my closet.

It was an incredible amount of work. And then, last week, we added a puppy.

Dumb Animal

It has, again, been a ridiculous amount of time since my last post. Not too much has happened since then but today I finally came back to this blog and realized that I had never posted the promised kitten photographs.

Here is my kitten hiding in the toilet and leaving fur on the seat. Ew. She thinks she's sneaky.

And here is my kitten as I like her best. Sans toilet water. The cuteness is overwhelming, isn't it?

The Cat's Meow

The new house has been filled with all sorts of surprises. Some have been good, like discovering that the owners left us a tool box filled with excellent quality tools, or finding a nice cast iron frying pan in a (bathroom) cabinet. Some of the other surprises have been of the middle of the road "eh" variety, such as finding that some of the handles on cabinets were painted and not screwed in, or realizing that the spare bathroom toilet would stop spouting smelly gunk as soon as the wax ring was replaced. And still other surprises have been, well, not-so-good. Among these was a gas leak that took Husband and my father three days of trenching and pipe relaying to fix, a window screen that NO MATTER WHAT will never stay in because it has nothing to latch it on except balance, and a KitchenAid dishwasher that stank to high heavens for at least two weeks while we tried everything to stop it. It would not drain. It could not drain. It was a friggin' nightmare.

But the biggest surprise of all came just the other day. I couldn't find the kitten Anastacia and I decided that before I went looking all over the yard for her, I'd use the bathroom. So I walked into the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat and found...

AN UNHAPPY KITTEN IN MY TOILET.

Sitting there. Drenched. Sullenly saying "meow" and too traumatized to move. The picture will follow as soon as I figure out how to get my pictures off my camera and onto the computer with the new setup.

Being Institutionalized is Only a Matter of Time

Something I said last night in complete earnesty:
     "It's really good luck that the cat puked on our sheets."

Anyone Know an Exorcist?

Boyfriend and I both want children someday. While that stage of our lives will preferably occur sooner than later, it is not now. In the meantime, we both enjoy being around kids. He says that my love of children is baby fever, but in truth, I'll bet that of the two of us he will be the first to break down, point helplessly at an infant and say "I want one of those."

Baby Fever n. The condition of desiring a baby so much that all one can do is ogle small children and sigh dreamily, meanwhile making parents everywhere cringe that you of all people are considering procreation. Outside of pregnancy, childbirth, and the subsequent two decades of pulling one's hair out of one's head, there is no known lasting cure.

There is, however, a temporary cure. We call it Kitten.

Kitten behaves just like children. He squirms when squeezed during scary films. He throws tantrums when he cannot play outdoors...although instead of screaming and throwing his fists, he simply paces in circles meowing loud enough for the neighbors to call animal protection services. As demonstrated below, bathing is contrary to his nature. And when Kitten doesn't get his way, something snaps inside him.

               

Does anybody know of a small, furry, non-demonic cure for that dreaded baby fever?

A New Leaf

Last week, Boyfriend and I decided to adopt a kitten.

The day didn't start out with a kitten adoption in the agenda. It was one of those things in life that  just happens. Inexplicably and miraculously...Happens. Like discovering that your significant other is an unsung masseuse or finding a dollar in your jacket pocket. Sometime between the hour I got up grouchy in the morning and the hour I collapsed grouchy into bed, a stranger put a kitten in Donald's arms for five minutes.

That's all it took. Three hundred seconds and the damage was done. We just couldn't say no.

Yesterday, Boyfriend picked the kitten up at the local Petsmart and brought him home and both of us are happy with our selection. The kitten is animated and sweet and fits well into our lifestyle. He did spend a good amount of time last night pacing over our necks, chests, and faces though. I hope that habit will be nipped in the bud, but Boyfriend didn't mind too much. Rogue kitten posing a threat to sensitive body parts? No problema. My honey eagerly jumped at the opportunity to "protect" my boobs from a kitten sneak attack. I swear the man will be groping me with his last breath.

The kitten isn't what this blog is about, however, nor is it why I am beginning a blog at all. It just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Last night I was watching Boyfriend smile at the furball and my life started falling into place. In a way, it was like G-d had emptied a puzzle box upstairs and the pieces were magically landing notched together where they belonged.

When I was watching Boyfriend play with the kitten last night, our dreams were tangible. You grow up looking forward - anticipating, dreaming, expecting, hoping. And waiting, always waiting for the next landmark down the road. The day you attain that diploma or the perfect job, the day you walk down the aisle or hold your firstborn, the day you retire or your granddaughter says she loves you. And then when you tire of looking forward, you grow old looking backward.

Suddenly, amidst Boyfriend's chuckle and the kitten's acrobatics, I realized that I've reached that landmark and I don't want to miss this beautiful journey just waiting for the next landmark to come along. I've met the man I plan to grow old with and raise a family with. We're happy together and we love each other. All my life, I've looked forward to this landmark - to that moment - and there it was. And just like that, right in that instant, I fell in love with my life all over again. With that beautiful kitten and that handsome man, with our big dreams and our small apartment, with our compromises and our friendship, with our future and our past, but most of all with the addition of those all. I'm at the beginning of something wonderful and I'm looking forward to writing about it. Which is why I'm starting this blog.

Because that moment was one of those things in life that just happens. Inexplicably and miraculously...Happens.