The Cat in the Shower

Cats aren't supposed to like water.  Or so goes the stereotype of cats hating water.  And this one didn't appear to be a lot different.  I have scars on my chest (yes, there) from when Mister Man caught me holding the cat and told me I should take her in to see The Redhead in the tub and the cat saw the water and then I felt the claws.  And I bled.  A lot.  Through my shirt.  So like most cats, she didn't want to be drowned in a tub either.

Yet, she has a new-found fascination with our shower.  After I shower, she came in to lick the shower floor.  So gross.  So, so gross.  Luckily I clean it a few times a week.  But then she has been sleeping on the rug afterwards.  The wet shower mat.  And it doesn't seem to faze her.

Not in the slightest.

I have a slight feeling I will end up with a whole bunch of cat-in-the-shower photos.  And that shouldn't surprise anyone.

She knows how to rock a splint...

I knew she had style.  I knew she had grace. (Which is almost funny considering she fell and fractured her wrist.  Too soon, too soon.)  I knew she had beauty.  But this kid can rock that hideous splint.  And I would never have thought that was possible.

Today wasn't the sort of adventure I was expecting...

I lied and said I would be up for just about anything in California.  I never actually meant it.




And this morning, I received a phone call that changed the course of today.  Next thing you know, I was in an emergency room with The Redhead.  Among drug addicts.  At least four.  And out of all the hospitals in an area I don't know, something tells me this wasn't the best one the ladies in her school office could have suggested. Not at all.  That'll be the last time I ever ask.


Hopefully.


My redhead broke her wrist on the monkey bars at school today.  The lady in the office kept telling me she was sure it was just a sprain, but considering the hospital she sent me to, I'm not sure judgment is necessarily the best today.  But bitterness should be expected from me.  My child is temporarily broken.


That, and she had to sit between two addicts.  One that was clawing her own skin off.



Today wasn't the best day.  Today wasn't the best sort of adventure.  And as a mother, it was traumatizing.  I can only imagine how scary it was for The Redhead.

That child of mine is a trooper though.  And I'm grateful most for that.  That smile could get me through anything.

Oh olive oil, we love you so...

As much as I miss working and all the chaos that came with it, I do love cooking again, really cooking.  Not just warming something on the stove.  No, no, no.  That isn't cooking.  Tossing something in the oven isn't cooking.  Going through more than three bottles of olive oil since moving here.  Now that's cooking.  And yes, I seriously have gone through that many.  Check my Safeway expenses.  And Mister Man received this from the owner of this company.  And I can't wait to put it to the best use.  And can't wait to really smell it in my kitchen.

She must be stylin'

I have the most stylish redhead.  And she definitely didn't get that from me.  

They Do Exist

Every time I'm in a garden aisle, I see a box of slug killer.  And while I saw a lot of slugs in humid Kansas, I hadn't seen any here in California.  And while I don't recall ever seeing slug killer in Kansas, I come across it a lot in this state.  (Maybe it's because in the Midwest, we're so backward we just use salt...?)

And for this time, I found a reason.

But it's so much smaller than the ones I would see in Kansas.  It doesn't look like a killer.  It's just...gross.

A Quick Tour of What We're Working With

It's striped.  It's from 1962.  The brown feces-colored paint makes the stucco on the side of the house hot. The yard has the strangest combination of rocks and concrete.  The husband had to have worked in the concrete industry at some point.  And there are so many roses in this yard.  Enough to furnish at least five Disney films.  I counted over twenty bushes.  We have a lot of work in store for us.  And the need for a bulldozer.  And don't get me started on the tripping hazards that are rocks.

But I also don't want you to get the wrong idea.  I love that we're living here.  I love that we can call this house our home.  Along with our pets.  Because this is so much better than renting.  And while owning two homes is a little on the scary side, I'm glad we took this journey anyway.

You didn't honestly think you'd get away without seeing pet photos, did you?