Jun. 5th, 2012 09:32 pm
etumukutenyak: (Default)
As of 5 pm EDT tonight, I am the sole owner of my home. I do solemnly promise and swear to maintain it in an appropriate manner, with all rights and appurtenances appertaining thereto. So to speak.

The Ex gets the profit from this sale, which is not the entirety of the agreed-upon sum; a fact which surprised her, as I seem to have forgotten to inform her that I was not financing the entire sum. She'll get the rest directly from me, with many thanks to my behind-the-scenes investors, and relatives who had foresight in things financial.

I've purchased a small set of replacement deadbolts. I may spend some time fixing my front door.

My aunt-the-therapist thought this might be a bittersweet moment, and wished me more happiness. I find myself restraining emotion for now. I'm not quite sure what I want to feel, but I do want to avoid waking any slumbering anger. I know it's slumbering; I can carefully identify it deep within. We'll leave it be; she's earned her rest.

One small revenge: Rico, the cat who arrived last year, is just as much a hellion as he promised to be. He bites toes, pounces on feet -- hides under the bed, even -- and thunders through the house. He is obviously enjoying life, and I'm happy for him even though I miss seeing him in the second floor window, where he used to watch for me.

Home. Mine, all mine.

I believe I have a copy of Finding Nemo around here somewhere...although UP is almost more appropriate.
etumukutenyak: (Gromit puzzled)
First, a "Happy Birthday!!!" to [ profile] i_calql8, and many more! The virtual PBRK with choklit on top are over there, next to the tall glass of moo.

Then, after a decent day of work (patients healing, paperwork processing, no angry meetings, Sonny had another fabulous note from his math teacher for being well-behaved in class, etc.), we arrived home to a disaster.

For a moment there, it felt like we have two puppies rather than two dogs who are almost 6 years old. What did they do? I hear your anguished cries, and I'll tell you.

First, they knocked down the gate that keeps them to a restricted area (front room and upstairs). This gave them access to every part of the house except the basement.

Then they opened the door to the garbage receptacle, pulled out all the garbage, and opened every bag of kitty litter, and there were three or four of those. They cleaned out the box in which the chicken from Pollo Campero had been transported home. They probably ate a few things, too, because someone then opened another gate, to the master bedroom, and left a large damp spot on the rug in the little anteroom.

I had been suspicious before I opened the front door, because they weren't at the door barking, as they usually are. But the smell of used cat litter was kind of a giveaway.

What else can you do? We delayed our dinner to clean the kitchen, picked up all the pieces of the shattered Pyrex mixing bowl that got shoved off the counter, and sent Sonny off to walk the dogs.

etumukutenyak: (skull with nails)
As some of you may recall, we went from a one-dog family to a two-dog family last year (and the advent of the Three Dog Night is..?). Having been a single dog unit for more than 14 years, we are rather set in our ways, but we can cope with two slightly smaller dogs, with more energy. They get walked in the AM and PM, and played with; we leave all sorts of toys with them, and so on.

So, lately, when they started attacking Honey's pillow on a daily basis, it became a puzzling annoyance. Why her pillow? They'd shredded one of my pillows when we were returning from Montreal, but nothing since. Why pillows in the first place?

We bought new pillows. The next evening we found her new pillow attacked and bleeding stuffing all over the bed. Emergency surgery was performed and the patient was stabilized. Repeat again, the next night.

We pulled the covers ALL the way up over our pillows. Upon our return, we found the covers ALL the way down the bed and the pillow again left to forlornly extrude stuffing.

Well. Ve haff vays.

Today, we rearranged things. Normally they sleep upstairs at night, in the boy's bedroom. We blocked off the kitchen doorway at the bottom of the stairs, and closed off the little double door to the hallway, which gave them: all of the upstairs, the stairway, and the front room. They could protect the house and not shred her poor pillow. The only remaining question was "do we have any food items in the front room?", and we knew they'd answer that for us.

Tonight's answer was "No." It seems they could find only some flattened cardboard to be recycled, and if they want to shred that, they have our blessings.

Now we have nice soft new pillows that are unharmed, or at least in one case, not harmed again.
etumukutenyak: (Hurricane Ginger 1971)
We have an elderly dog, a cross between a Golden Retriever and a yellow Labrador Retriever. He is a spoiled and pampered house pet, refusing to stay outside by himself. As he is a longish-haired dog, he naturally finds the heat somewhat oppressive. For years, he's fussed about the temperature as it climbs above 76 degrees F (24 degrees C) -- he must be an Irish dog, I always claim. (Referring to the old joke about the headlines in Irish papers about heatwave prostrating thousands.)

Digression: my grandmother, being from Ireland herself, always said to drink hot tea when the weather was warm as it would help you feel cooler. Well, for years I did this. Then I moved to the Caribbean, where a cold winter night is still above 80F (27C), and I found to my dismay that this old wives' tale no longer worked. Then it dawned on me: in Ireland, a hot day is only 76 degrees.

Anyway, the dog. He pants, and shifts about restlessly, and barks in the middle of the night. Recently the ambient temp jumped up to 90+F (34+C), and he was truly suffering. Not only did we turn on the AC, we also turned on the fans. We have many ceiling fans, but the true point to this story is the portable fans.

I happened to buy some new fans as our old ones have gradually burned out and been tossed. I placed one new fan on the floor in front of the dog, and he didn't budge for hours. He slept the sleep of a pup. When he moved to the bedroom, to be near us, I placed the other new fan in front of him as well. He slept the sleep of a tired pup all night, which he hasn't done in many moons.

He still plops himself in front of the fan, even now. This amuses us to no end. Such a simple and cheap answer to our barking-in-the-middle-of-night problem. Now we too can sleep the sleep of a tired pup.


etumukutenyak: (Default)

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