The Joy of Cat Companionship

Things that make me wonder if we are nuts to have cats:

• Pairing of the words ointment and peri-vaginal area
• Olympic-worthy puking episode resulting in fun game of "Find All the Easter Eggs"
• Nightly world-championship whining sessions for more kibble
• Accidentally incurring the wrath of Phoebe
• Putting a cat on a diet (necessity of counting one's fingers on a regular basis to make sure they weren't a midnight snack)

Things that remind me why we'll never not have cats:

• Bernie (on the left)
• Phoebe (on the right)
• Phoebe's attempt to type and load disks on the computer (possibly an early attempt to learn how to shop online)
• Bernie's happiness at just sitting next to me
• Phoebe using and over-sized stuffed animal as a potential bed (the cat-kneading to make the animal into a bed is more than chuckle-worthy)
• Bernie's occasional antics, generally involving too much curiosity, something that resembles string, and a liberal amount of panic

Welcome to Indianapolis

What must surely have been the sole snow plow on the road - and they managed to get a photo of it. 

Welcome to Indianapolis, home of the two hour commute. Also known as land of paralyzing snowfalls and arctic temperatures - puh-leez! Three inches of snowfall, no snow removal, fewer cold-weather driving skills than Mexico City, and you get mass chaos. No, really, it's almost humorous. Learning to drive in the Michigan snow belt might have made me a bit jaded, but really, it borders on the ridiculous. Tee hee. 

At our house, Keira and I are hoping to get in a bit of sledding, finally. Chad is shivering and gritting his teeth at the amount of time still to go before spring. 

And a Trollop Gave to Me

Keira, getting ready to serve appetizers she made for our friends Spencer and Elizabeth. 

It's been ages! Sorry for the long lapse, but I think the computer fry, the platform change, and then a year of remodeling left me a bit weary to add any new posts. But, I hope this means I'm back in action. 

Keira's speech hasn't improved, it's gone gang busters. There isn't much she doesn't understand, begs for more words in Japanese, and I occasionally catch her making her dolls converse in Spanish - their vocabulary is quite limited - in fact they generally converse in funny song lyrics, but they are nonetheless speaking Spanish. It's great - though it does open up some funny arguments. Nothing you can say will convince Keira that certain terms she uses are not quite right. Examples:

Snow Wife = Snow White (white makes no sense, I was told)

Play Day = Play Date (a full day is entirely necessary, nothing less will do)

My favorite, and by all means the best, is what we found she was really singing all Christmas. She L*O*V*E*D carols and still sings them. One of her favorites was The 12 Days of Christmas. As we were cooking dinner the other night I heard her singing to herself "On the fifth day of Christmas my trollop gave to me..." Trollop. I didn't even think of correcting her, it's too perfect. 

Just More Photos

During: Part 1

Don't be alarmed - I'm not going to try and blog every single day of the remodel. I'd bore even myself. However, I thought it worth noting my makeshift kitchen/dining room. If I do say so myself, it's pretty workable. We've effectively been using this kitchen since Sunday, but it's only been the past two days that the kitchen has been totally inaccessible. 

I also feel compelled to note that our contractors make a sink available to us every night so that we always have running water - they totally rock. 

We're also starting to see some real demolition. Aside from them not being able to get the dumpster into the alley, everything is sailing along perfectly. See for yourself. 

We've also found that we're damn lucky that the refrigerator didn't fall through the floor in the kitchen. There's nary a board to be seen in that corner - we really don't know what it was resting on. 

Now, on to day three!

Before: Part 3

There are only four parts to the Before posts, I promise it won't go on forever. In fact, we've just completed day two of the remodel, so this post is quite late. However, moving the entire contents of one's kitchen, bathroom, and catch-all-room-o-crap (mudroom), takes up quite a bit of time. Especially if you wish to have a marginally functional existence during the project. 

So, without further ado, part 3 of our series on Why the Cerdas Are Sinking Mountains of Cash Into Their Home. I'd like to draw your attention to several aspects of the above photos. Namely:

• That we've not been using this bathroom for many months due to the imminent migration of the toilet from the bathroom into the crawl space
  
• The overall and inescapable crappiness of the bathroom in general
  
• The evidence that this bathroom has had repeated and un-repaired water issues at least a handful of times over the past couple of decades
  
• That the plumbing was done with putty, duct tape, and pvc (I'm not shitting you)
  
• The fact that it was remodeled in the late 70's/early 80's using entirely salvaged materials (we like to think of it as green before their time)
  
• Did I mention that the toilet was going to fall through the floor?
  

I won't bother with the final Before post until it is time to tackle the upstairs bathroom. Now, on to the During posts.

Away We Go!

She's three! Despite her best efforts to get either Chad or I to do her in, she's made it to three. If she weren't so freakin' cute, I think she'd be history. I think it's payback. She was an exceptionally easy baby, if you don't count the not sleeping till she was 9 months old part. She's ornery, stubborn, clever, and willful. And yet, from time to time, she can be the sweetest, most endearing girl. 

I think that it's a built-in survival mechanism. It goes something like this:

• Friday, 8:00 am, spend 1/2 an hour throwing a screaming tantrum on the floor because Dad unrolled her socks
  
• Friday, 8:30 am, spend another 1/2 hour saying "no way!" to Mommy about the size of bites I cut
  
• Friday, 9:00 am, spend an hour running around the house, refusing to listen. We especially like the "if mommy wants me to do it, I'll do the very opposite game." This generally consist of things like taking clothes off, rather than putting them on.
  
• Friday, 10:00 am, spend two brutal hours making our way from store to store on errands.
  
• Friday, 3:00 pm, just got up from a nap, "Mommy, Grandma and Grandpa are here!!!! Now, you and I both have our mommies here. You and I both have our daddies here. I'm so happy!"
  

You get the picture - almost kill her, almost kill her, almost kill her, awwww she's so cute! Repeat - all day, dawn to dusk. I, for one, am exhausted.  

Before: Part 2 The Mudroom

Hmmm, I'm not really certain how much commentary these really need. I think perhaps I should only point out the really crucial details:

1. Note the door to the mudroom from the kitchen - we have an Ikea curtain acting as insulation, most likely this in part accounts in part for the heating bills...

2. Note the quality workmanship at the bottom of the door. Hell, is there anything that duct tape can't fix? 

3. Can you find my pots and pans? Yes, this really is the only place to put them.

4. And, note the fancy storage facilities for my small appliances. Those shelves were groaning under kitchen overflow not more than a couple of weeks ago. The kitchen is now fairly close to empty as we prepare for the demolition. 

5. Did I note that the mudroom is open to the out of doors, is uninsulated, and is chock-full of crap that doesn't fit in the kitchen (note the 3 cabinets we do have - all very full. 

Tomorrow the downstairs bathroom horror show, then on to the upstairs that is, if possible, worse. Then, it'll be back to blogging as usual until I have some during photos! 

Before: Part 1

Since we're just about to be in the territory of "during" photos, I thought I'd start excavating the before photos and getting them posted. 

I'll comment along the way for those of you who've a) not seem my kitchen, b) not seen my kitchen in all its glory, c) been gullible enough for me to talk out of seeing my kitchen. 

We have a four-square style home, an architectural style that equates to a roughly square home of two stories, with four rooms on each floor. Ours is no exception, but that we have a small addition on the back that contains a bathroom, a kitchen, and a mudroom. We're basically going to be gutting this entire back bump-out. We'll be keeping the bathroom where it is, but fully replacing everything. We're going to incorporate the mudroom into the kitchen, to achieve a more spacious kitchen. We'll be without kitchen and downstairs bath for more than two months. Lest you ask why we'd do such a thing, let me show you...

**Note: in the photos above, the china cabinet looks vaguely respectable at first glance. Don't let it fool you. It is as half-assed as everything else that's been remodeled in the house (the stuff that's never been touched is in remarkably good condition.) Look closely at the two photos that follow the main image of the china cabinet. It actually has exhaust plumbing running through the cabinet, and they basically just cut a chunk out of the drawers to make them accommodate the pipe - stellar engineering. 

On the Drawbacks of Wearing Panties

I just found this photo on our computer. Chad must have snagged it.

Keira alternatively hates and loves getting her picture taken, but mostly she hates it. That makes it really hard to get good candid shots of her because she's always focusing on the camera whenever it's out and won't go on with whatever she's doing. 

The result is that every photo of her looks relatively similar. It's either the top of her head or her grinning like it's a contest. But, this gem really captures her personality - for better or worse, that sinister grin sums her up really well. 

Now, on to the topic of this week's post - undies. Or, should I say, why we've now discovered that undies aren't always the schiznit. You see, sometimes when you wear panties, you get budgies. Yes, you heard me correctly. According to our daughter, if you hike up your undies too far, you end up with an avian infestation of your nether-regions. And, then you have to pull out your budgie, or ask your mommy to pull it out for you - and yes, you caught that correctly as well. I can now add to my mom resume, budgie extractor. Poor parakeets, they never saw it coming.  

Linguistic Inquisitiveness

I absolutely love being the test market for Keira's new phrases and vocabulary. She hears something new, mulls it over for a while. Then, when you're least expecting it, she gives it a test run. This past week, she came out with a real gem. 

She's just now starting to wear underwear, and even though she insists on trying to put them on without help, she usually pauses once she has her feet in the leg holes to ask me if she has them on right side front. 

This occasion being no exception, she gets her undies part way on, pauses, then looks up at me and asks, "Is this how I roll?" And yes, she really meant it as in 'yo MTV rap, bling out my crib - is this how I roll. 

Pausing for just a second I said, um yep, they're on the right way. I'm getting much better at collapsing into fits of giggles in an entirely internal fashion. tee hee - that's just how I roll. 

Misery Loves Company

*
How did I not realize that there is an entire land of people blogging about old home renovation - seriously, how could I miss that? Remedial though my search may be, I stumbled across this gem of a blog. 

The tagline for the blog reads, "We call it home IMPROVEMENT because it can't get any worse." Amen, sister. I'm going to add that to my voyeur list for the time being. 

Our little project (yes, I'm being sarcastic when I say little) is getting off the ground right about......now. So, I think that I will be having quite a bit to say about it in the coming weeks. For now, I'll start with our kitchen lighting, which I think is going to be something along the scheme shown above. 

Our first step is to apply for a Certificate of Appropriateness - which I fully intend to frame. When you read this, you must say Certificate of Appropriateness in a fashion worthy of Monty Python. Fortunately, our contractors find this just as amusing as we do - so we know that we're all playing for the same team - so to speak.  

*photo was ripped shamelessly from Rejuvenation, which will receive compensation for said use when we throw buckets of money their way for the lighting fixtures that I feel I must lust after. 

Inheritance, Part X

Ah, the wonder of budding sarcasm. Now that I know what I was like as a kid, I can see that I was  - and likely still am - a right pain in the ass. This afternoon I offered to show Keira the motif on one of our towels (Misdo boy towel from Japan). 

Her reply? "What is this, show and tell?" It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Fortunately, I thought to reply that no, show and tell was Thursday, and this was only Monday. Then - what's Thursday?

Gotta love it. We're not really sure what the days of the week are (aside from Saturday, which we like) but we have mastered the art of the smart-assed reply. 

Addiction

As if we needed another thing to add to our to-do list, we can now count ploughing through the entire Harry Potter series on audio book as yet another activity to cram into our days. 

Yet, I'm not complaining since there are a couple of clear benefits. First, this just has to be better for you than watching television. Second, by nature, it leaves your hands free, allowing me time to work on other things (which, you of course know would be crafts or re-organizing our desk.) 

For those of you who have never tried sampling any of the Harry Potter books on CD, all I can say is, try it, you'll like it. One of my coworkers has been telling me for years to give them a shot, and this Christmas I got book one on CD from Chad. It's superb - Jim Dale does an unbelievable job of bringing the stories to life without being the least bit campy, and it's a delight to listen to. 

So, if anyone has any Christmas request for next year, get them in now : ) We've just started book four, and if my math skills haven't failed me, I have approximately 90 hours of craft time ahead of me. 

Resolutely Odd

Like everyone else on the planet, I feel the need to, at the least, dwell on the idea of making new year's resolutions.
The cliched resolutions are clearly all applicable: loose weight, save more, use up stashed crafting materials, de-clutter, and pare-down the amount of stuff we own. However, they never really work and really, who remembers new year's resolutions when it comes to say, March. Last year's though, really did work. I did get pretty much all of my Christmas presents done by November and it did enhance the amount I was able to enjoy my holiday. Per the organizational pundits, it worked because it was definable and trackable. There were steps, lists, and projects; all things that I'm very fond of!
So, in an effort to actually learn from history, I've decided to make two new year's resolutions:

1. Get all of my Christmas presents done by Thanksgiving. (a repeat, but well worth the un-originality)
2. Give myself a $5,000 raise by finding 50 ways to save $100. Odd, yes. But, it's easier than just resolving to save more or spend less, and it has the added benefit of being something of a challenge. The rules will be that it has to be money that we are already in the habit of spending (I cannot give myself credit for having the willpower to skip buying cool new boots). I can add amounts of $50 or more together to get to $100, but I cannot count smaller amounts cumulatively. This prevents me from getting hung up on trying to add in the 75 cents I saved by buying generic shampoo (which while a worthy choice, would be a clerical nightmare and clearly lead to failure.)

Hopefully, this time next year, I'll be able to let you know what we did with our spare 10 grand, and a what a great time I had with a stress-free holiday. Wish me luck.

And a Partridge

the blanket - about halfway done

On the final day of Christmas, my tired - yet quite pleased with myself - self had crafted:

• 35 square feet of hand knit blanket
  
• 8 kids' door hangers (no - not knit!)
  
• 2 luxury yarn neck warmers
  
• 2 pair earrings
  
• 2 knit baby doll bibs (which Keira requested after receiving a baby high chair)
  
• 1 hat 
  
• 1 felted clutch
  
• 1 lace oversize shrug (which may not ever see its intended recipient)
  

The irony being that the very first project that I worked on last year, is the one lingering project that I'm still trying to finish up.

hmmm, now, on to next year's offerings (for those who may be keeping score - I have 6 done already!)

What You're Not Told

No one tells you when you're about to do something for the last time. There's no official notice just before the last time you breast feed your baby. They don't let you know that after a certain day, your daughter will be too big to cradle in your arms. The last bottle, the last jar of baby food, crawling, dressing your kid. It's all in your rear view mirror before you realize the last time is already complete. At least with Keira, it's only bittersweet. For each thing she stops doing, it's because she's now doing something new, and you get to celebrate all those new things. 

Yesterday, my Godmother passed away. The last time I saw her, I didn't know it would be the last time I saw her. I feel like I wish I'd known, but I don't know what I would have done, or said, differently. I don't know if that would have tainted the last visit. 

We were up to see my parents this fall and went over for a visit. Several of us went out on a quick boat ride. I remember watching her walking away from the dock as we set off, and thinking that I was glad she was there because she'd had a rough bout with cancer. Before we left, she gave me a quick tour around their house, which I'd not yet seen. I remember seeing a dressing table heavily adorned with wigs and hoping that she was almost ready to give them up. I gave her a big hug before we left. No one lets you know that it's the last one. 

You Know You Work for a Publishing Company...

when instead of this:
"There's a gold car in the back lot with the lights on."

The PA system announces:

"In the South-eastern parking lot, there is a champagne-colored, newer, Nissan Altima with the lights still on."

Email As Therapy

The photo, which is entirely unrelated to the email below, is one that I found months ago and have been looking for an excuse to share. The fact that I named this file hummingbird exam may explain why I felt that it belonged with this email.

It's been one of those days - no, make that weeks - wait, it's really been more like one of those months. You get the picture. Last week (if that tells you how long it's taken me to pull this post together) I got a handful of emails, all on the same day, that I just found therapeutic and I thought I would share the best bits.

From a NY Times book review:

That said, the many semi-clothed pictures of Borat and various friends, relatives and sex workers make this scabrous and occasionally hilarious book challenging to read in public. The captions don’t help. (One for a full-page picture of a shirtless, pantless Borat in a lime green scrotal sling reads, “For protection against sunburning I make rub squirrel cheese on my skins.”)

Any NY Times review that includes the words scrotal sling is inherently grin-inducing.

Next came a signature buried in an email forward I got. I know the person who sent the forward, but don't know the person who used this awful signature line - which greatly reduces the guilt I feel in mocking it senseless. Here's the surely well-meant signature line:

"But Thou, Oh Lord, Art A Shield For Me; My Glory, And The Lifter Of My Head!!"

Now, call me sacrilegious, but I'm not certain that I've ever required divine intervention to lift my own head. Possibly, it's just me.

Next, I was delighted to find that graft was still a publicly-sanctioned road to social change. In my neighborhood newsletter I read that:

This may bring to an end a series of efforts that began nearly six years ago. In 2002, the City of Indianapolis placed Indy East Motel on probation requiring the motel to submit to additional requirements. According to City officials, during the next five years, police had made over 900 runs including arrests for drugs and prostitution.

Your presents in the courtroom Friday would help illustrate that Irvington is serious about closing this business. We hope to see you Friday.

Outsmarted!

Q: What do you do when your toddler outwits your husband?
A: Laugh maniacally, then post about it on your blog so everyone can share in the fun. tee hee.
So, Chad and Keira love to wind each other up. That's nothing new. A week or so ago, Keira was singing the ABC song and at the end, sings "now I know my ABCs" when Chad jumps in with "No, they're my ABCs."

For several days, the two of them go back and forth with a mostly constant stream of "my ABCs," "no, my ABCs" and so on. Thanksgiving day, Chad starts in again. Keira marches into the kitchen, pulls two of her magnetic alphabet toys off of the fridge. She brings them into the dining room and in front of everyone says, "see, Daddy. They're my ABCs."   Point 1, Keira. 

Tonight, Chad thinks he's gotten one over on Keira. She'd taken two of the magnetic letters off the fridge and had left them in the living room. By way of asking Keira to put them back Chad says, "Hey, Keira, can you put my ABCs back on the fridge?" Keira takes them, pauses for a minute, then hands them back to Chad. As she does so, she replies "dey your ABCs, you put it back." Point two, Keira. If Daddy knows what's good for him, he'll stop while he's ahead.