Yes, I KNOW I haven't posted since 6/25
posted by peppermint at 11:03 AM
Would you believe we ran out of home improvement projects?
No?
Okay.
How about somebody had a birthday?
Tom is somewhat horrified that I'm posting this picture on the Internet because we "surprised" him with dinner & cake after he returned from the gym, and he'd like for everyone to know that he doesn't normally wear a Pac Man shirt. Because NORMALLY he wears a Homestar Runner t-shirt, or a Penny Arcade t-shirt, both of which give him ridiculously large amounts of style cred. I'm only half-joking about that. Tom's t-shirt collection actually plays more of a role in our daily life than you might think. We've had people allow us to go ahead of them in line at a checkout purely because Tom is wearing his Tab t-shirt that day. Our lender also (jokingly) refused to proceed with our home loan because Tom was wearing a KISS t-shirt. Apparently he's not a fan. I'd never heard of Homestar Runner before I met Tom, yet we had a waiter once abruptly stop taking our order midway through because he wanted to let Tom know he's also a huge fan. Okay buddy, that's great, but you know what I'm a huge fan of? Pasta. Nobody ever gives us special treatment because of my Mossimo v-neck t-shirts (in solid colors only) from Target.
But I digress. We made a road trip down to Indianapolis for a few days before Tom's birthday, because I know I always missed being around my family for my birthday when I lived down in Indiana and I exercised my powers of self-projection and decided Tom feels the same (because I'm vain that way). That should explain at least SOME of our absence to you.
No?
Okay, well how about this one: The projects we've been working on aren't as exciting and glamorous as our past projects. Let's face it, once you've taken a Skil saw to your kitchen counter in order to remove a dishwasher encrusted in rat feces, everything else is pretty ho-hum. We've been working on things, but mainly we've been enjoying the summer while it lasts, and I've had respiratory infections that last longer than a Wisconsin summer.
When we moved into the house our home improvement schedule generally consisted of tackling one big project every other weekend, since my son is with his dad every other weekend. That way we weren't all engrossed in whatever "super fun A+ fantastic" problem we'd run into with the house during the time my son was with us. Because it turns out 6 year olds aren't all that interested in watching you paint the woodwork white or re-wire half the house. Back in MY day, let me tell you, I was perfectly HAPPY to watch paint dry, while sitting in our dirt-floored hut playing with the only two toys I was ever allowed to have - A BOX AND A STICK! And I loved that box and that stick.
Since my son is now out of school for the summer, our project schedule has gone through something of a mandatory slowdown because there are other things to do. Things that are way more fun than...say...sanding a floor. Thing like spending the 4th of July in the pool then watching the fireworks out on the lake in grandma's boat. Then we had to (HAD to) spend a Saturday at the waterpark with my sister and her family. And the FAIR! Oh my God the FAIR! Fried stuff in a little cardboard boat? Don't even get me started on cotton candy. You know how they make it? MAGIC!
We've still managed to get a few things done, though. Tom finished painting the doors in the entry/living room white so they're no longer the huge eyesores of the room. Our 1960's ugly wood door actually looks less ugly painted white. My lawn officially went dormant due to drought, so not much to share on that front. (It's starting to green up again after a few recent rainfalls, but I'm one of those people who thinks if it's too dry to keep the lawn alive, it's probably too dry to be wasting perfectly good drinking water on the lawn.) Tom has also been working on the garage, which thus far has been a large storage area for things whose eventual home had not been cleaned/fumigated/painted and/or destroyed with napalm then rebuilt from the ground up. This morning he was finally able to start putting lawn & garden supplies away in the built-in cabinet in the garage because the black paint took about two weeks to dry sufficiently.
Things are shaping up. We're starting to hang things on the walls here and there. I've met with the interior decorator about Nicholas' room and now have to coordinate with the painter as soon as I figure out a good time to actually have the painting done. THIS, by the way, is like Shangri-La. I mean, a room we don't have to paint? It's too much for my brain to handle.
Today is sort of a somber day for me because this morning I dropped off one of my cats, Mo, at the vet to have him declawed in the front. The practice of declawing a cat is quite controversial and I'm fully aware of it. I didn't have either of my cats declawed because I'd been sufficiently horrified by the procedure. Any future cats I have will be granted the same courtesy and will enjoy their claws for their entire life PROVIDED THEY DON'T DESTROY MY FURNITURE. Which is really what it came down to with Mo. He already destroyed one couch of mine in his first two years of life despite trying all sorts of humane "cures". The only one that worked was those vinyl claw caps (and don't worry, I never put the colored ones on him). The problem was that they were a bitch to get on him, and I generally always walked away from the experience looking like I'd been horrifically attacked by an army of small tigers. Then he'd goose-step around the house like an army general because he hated the way they felt. On top of all that, and this is the only reason why I say they "worked", he'd spend all of his time frantically chewing at them trying to remove them - and he especially loved to do this in the middle of the night, right next to my head. When he had all that on his plate, it's true he didn't find much time to exercise his claws on the couch. I was told that most cats forget about the things after about an hour - the site says a half hour. I gave Mo THREE WEEKS and then we were both so exhausted that I finally took him to the vet to have the last couple removed by having his claws trimmed really short (the others he managed to chew off). My vet had only known one other cat who had so vehemently rejected the claw caps, and that cat had suffered head trauma (!!!!) and as a result had become so violent that he attacked the family's German Shepherd so badly that the dog needed extensive stitches and lost his sight in one eye.
:: pause so you can crap your pants a little ::
That's why they tried the caps on him, btw. So the dog didn't have to sleep with his one good eye open.
Anyway, the vet I chose does the procedure with a laser, which they assure me at least makes it a little more bearable for the cat. Last night before bed I started feeling really horrible about the whole thing then Mo walked into the room and proceeded to maul the corner of my loveseat. Do I value my furniture more than my cats? You damn well better believe it. Our other cat (Chivus, who isn't as photogenic as Mo so he hasn't appeared on the site yet) is four years old and loves to scratch as much as the next cat - however after being presented with every scratching post option available he decided he favors ones that are simply a box filled with strips of corrugated cardboard and he faithfully uses it every time the urge strikes. He tears the hell out of it some days, but that's why it's there. He will, therefore, keep his claws forevermore.
Now that I got that off my chest, I suppose I can go on with my day.
Since our project list for the summer is filled with more obscure tasks, you'll probably be inundated with more and more nonsense about our day-to-day lives outside the house. Lucky you!
No?
Okay.
How about somebody had a birthday?
Tom is somewhat horrified that I'm posting this picture on the Internet because we "surprised" him with dinner & cake after he returned from the gym, and he'd like for everyone to know that he doesn't normally wear a Pac Man shirt. Because NORMALLY he wears a Homestar Runner t-shirt, or a Penny Arcade t-shirt, both of which give him ridiculously large amounts of style cred. I'm only half-joking about that. Tom's t-shirt collection actually plays more of a role in our daily life than you might think. We've had people allow us to go ahead of them in line at a checkout purely because Tom is wearing his Tab t-shirt that day. Our lender also (jokingly) refused to proceed with our home loan because Tom was wearing a KISS t-shirt. Apparently he's not a fan. I'd never heard of Homestar Runner before I met Tom, yet we had a waiter once abruptly stop taking our order midway through because he wanted to let Tom know he's also a huge fan. Okay buddy, that's great, but you know what I'm a huge fan of? Pasta. Nobody ever gives us special treatment because of my Mossimo v-neck t-shirts (in solid colors only) from Target.
But I digress. We made a road trip down to Indianapolis for a few days before Tom's birthday, because I know I always missed being around my family for my birthday when I lived down in Indiana and I exercised my powers of self-projection and decided Tom feels the same (because I'm vain that way). That should explain at least SOME of our absence to you.
No?
Okay, well how about this one: The projects we've been working on aren't as exciting and glamorous as our past projects. Let's face it, once you've taken a Skil saw to your kitchen counter in order to remove a dishwasher encrusted in rat feces, everything else is pretty ho-hum. We've been working on things, but mainly we've been enjoying the summer while it lasts, and I've had respiratory infections that last longer than a Wisconsin summer.
When we moved into the house our home improvement schedule generally consisted of tackling one big project every other weekend, since my son is with his dad every other weekend. That way we weren't all engrossed in whatever "super fun A+ fantastic" problem we'd run into with the house during the time my son was with us. Because it turns out 6 year olds aren't all that interested in watching you paint the woodwork white or re-wire half the house. Back in MY day, let me tell you, I was perfectly HAPPY to watch paint dry, while sitting in our dirt-floored hut playing with the only two toys I was ever allowed to have - A BOX AND A STICK! And I loved that box and that stick.
Since my son is now out of school for the summer, our project schedule has gone through something of a mandatory slowdown because there are other things to do. Things that are way more fun than...say...sanding a floor. Thing like spending the 4th of July in the pool then watching the fireworks out on the lake in grandma's boat. Then we had to (HAD to) spend a Saturday at the waterpark with my sister and her family. And the FAIR! Oh my God the FAIR! Fried stuff in a little cardboard boat? Don't even get me started on cotton candy. You know how they make it? MAGIC!
We've still managed to get a few things done, though. Tom finished painting the doors in the entry/living room white so they're no longer the huge eyesores of the room. Our 1960's ugly wood door actually looks less ugly painted white. My lawn officially went dormant due to drought, so not much to share on that front. (It's starting to green up again after a few recent rainfalls, but I'm one of those people who thinks if it's too dry to keep the lawn alive, it's probably too dry to be wasting perfectly good drinking water on the lawn.) Tom has also been working on the garage, which thus far has been a large storage area for things whose eventual home had not been cleaned/fumigated/painted and/or destroyed with napalm then rebuilt from the ground up. This morning he was finally able to start putting lawn & garden supplies away in the built-in cabinet in the garage because the black paint took about two weeks to dry sufficiently.
Things are shaping up. We're starting to hang things on the walls here and there. I've met with the interior decorator about Nicholas' room and now have to coordinate with the painter as soon as I figure out a good time to actually have the painting done. THIS, by the way, is like Shangri-La. I mean, a room we don't have to paint? It's too much for my brain to handle.
Today is sort of a somber day for me because this morning I dropped off one of my cats, Mo, at the vet to have him declawed in the front. The practice of declawing a cat is quite controversial and I'm fully aware of it. I didn't have either of my cats declawed because I'd been sufficiently horrified by the procedure. Any future cats I have will be granted the same courtesy and will enjoy their claws for their entire life PROVIDED THEY DON'T DESTROY MY FURNITURE. Which is really what it came down to with Mo. He already destroyed one couch of mine in his first two years of life despite trying all sorts of humane "cures". The only one that worked was those vinyl claw caps (and don't worry, I never put the colored ones on him). The problem was that they were a bitch to get on him, and I generally always walked away from the experience looking like I'd been horrifically attacked by an army of small tigers. Then he'd goose-step around the house like an army general because he hated the way they felt. On top of all that, and this is the only reason why I say they "worked", he'd spend all of his time frantically chewing at them trying to remove them - and he especially loved to do this in the middle of the night, right next to my head. When he had all that on his plate, it's true he didn't find much time to exercise his claws on the couch. I was told that most cats forget about the things after about an hour - the site says a half hour. I gave Mo THREE WEEKS and then we were both so exhausted that I finally took him to the vet to have the last couple removed by having his claws trimmed really short (the others he managed to chew off). My vet had only known one other cat who had so vehemently rejected the claw caps, and that cat had suffered head trauma (!!!!) and as a result had become so violent that he attacked the family's German Shepherd so badly that the dog needed extensive stitches and lost his sight in one eye.
:: pause so you can crap your pants a little ::
That's why they tried the caps on him, btw. So the dog didn't have to sleep with his one good eye open.
Anyway, the vet I chose does the procedure with a laser, which they assure me at least makes it a little more bearable for the cat. Last night before bed I started feeling really horrible about the whole thing then Mo walked into the room and proceeded to maul the corner of my loveseat. Do I value my furniture more than my cats? You damn well better believe it. Our other cat (Chivus, who isn't as photogenic as Mo so he hasn't appeared on the site yet) is four years old and loves to scratch as much as the next cat - however after being presented with every scratching post option available he decided he favors ones that are simply a box filled with strips of corrugated cardboard and he faithfully uses it every time the urge strikes. He tears the hell out of it some days, but that's why it's there. He will, therefore, keep his claws forevermore.
Now that I got that off my chest, I suppose I can go on with my day.
Since our project list for the summer is filled with more obscure tasks, you'll probably be inundated with more and more nonsense about our day-to-day lives outside the house. Lucky you!
Labels: family
3 Comments:
Next time you wander down to Indianapolis, you should head west 35 miles and come visit us at our dump - erm... restoration project.
My Fiance has over 60 Rolling Stones t-shirts. His rock band t-shirt collection is easily 800+ shirts. THERE ARE SO MANY, WE HAD TO PUT THEM IN A STORAGE FACILITY. There, I've gotten that off my chest.
Happy Birthday.
I have the same dilemma when it comes to de-clawing. Vincent at least mostly uses the scratching post, but occasionally he still hits the couch, the bed, or even ME. I want to be able to play with him, we like to play a "cat & mouse" game around the room, and then switch roles. Anyways, I always end up bleeding.
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