…when I know there’s a large-ish spider running around my room?
I spied him twice, (On my bed!) but couldn’t get to him fast enough to scoop him up and take him outdoors, where he belongs. Which means that instead of dreaming and slumbering, I’ll be imagining that every breeze or hair wisp is that arachnid climbing around on my face.
At least I can tell it isn’t poisonous. Its cream colored with beige spots. If it weren’t in my room, I’d probably think it pretty.
I’m moving, yet again. It is official. We’ve had our applications approved and have a contract to sign. To clarify, “we” refers to my current roommates Schaara and April. So I’ll be with girls I know and love. This is good. Also good: the new landlords, the proximity of our new place to two freeway entrances, and the fact that my room will be bigger than a shoe-box. Not so fun: I can’t take my hamster with me, we won’t be able to paint the walls (and I have so liked my celery ice bedroom), and we’ll only have 1.5 bathrooms between the three of us. Oh, and the kitchen is a bit smaller. Humph. Then there are the other random things about the place that will just take some getting used-to: it is a split-level, we’ll be in a new ward (congregation), and it is a town-home, so we’ll be sharing a few walls with neighbors.
Goals for this place: Put more stuff on the walls. If I can’t paint them, I can still personalize them with photos and my art.
New is good. I’m looking forward to this change, but I’m also oh-so-tired of moving!
Before memory:
My grandparents came to visit Texas both when I was born and then again when my sister came into the world. I remember the latter visit to a small extent.
Don’t all the grown-ups look dapper?
Doesn’t my grandma have an intense look? Not mean, just, meaningful.
And check out my ride. Did I know how to pick a stylish tricycle or what?
(I sure miss my grand-folks.)
What more can you expect from a town obsessed with space travel? I mean, we have the Rockets and the Astros, why not a rocket for kids to play astronaut on?
Notice the small opening to crawl through to get to the tippy-top? There is no way that large parents could follow their offspring up there. Gotta love old un-child-safe playgrounds.
Cute, right?
And can I just that I like the outdoor carousels much more than the ones inside malls? (Cuz I do.)
Do you remember back in the day when they had plaster casts? I sure do.
I also remember the day this photo was taken– it was the day I had to hang that heavy leg over the edge of my bed for a few hours before the doctor came in, sawed a window into my cast, and pulled out my stitches. If you’ve never felt it, it is a really weird sensation. I can’t say I recommend it.
Feverish
Stubbed toe
Pricked finger on a pin
Soup exploded in microwave
Can’t taste half of the food I eat, or my sense of taste is cut in half I’m not sure which
Back hurts
Can’t find a home for my two stray temporarily taken-in kittens
Sheets are taking over 2.5 hours to dry (Not normal, right?)
But at least I will have warm freshly-laundered sheets to crawl under soon, and it will all be behind me.
And because I’m feeling guilty, I will make mention of a few wonderful people that helped me a bunch while I’ve been sick. (I had a bad day, but I am loved.) First, there’s Kendall who came quickly and administered a blessing. I firmly believe that it was because of that blessing that I got some good sleep for the next two nights. And second, Marissa, who sweetly brought me chicken noodle soup from Kneaders in a bread bowl. Third, my family has called to check up on me incessantly. And lastly, my roommates, who did things like helped me from one room to another when I was close to stumbling and who brought me cups of water while I was in bed. Yay for loving people!
Two friends have now asked if I have become a crazy cat lady. One added, “You’re much too young for that.” The answer is no, I am not a crazy cat lady, but I reserve the right to become one in my old age should I so desire. But I doubt it. I don’t like furry homes. One cat is easy enough to pick up after, feed, pay attention to, and snuggle. Multiples bring crazy into the mix. Too many variables that way. So no, no crazy cat lady here.
I’m just temporarily feeding two kittens that were raised in my window-well. There were four at one point, but one day they were all gone. Later that morning, I went outside, and there was one of them, meowing pitifully. As soon as she spotted me, she ran at me and started nuzzling me. What could I do but pick her up? Feedings, a bath, and temporary room and board followed. (I’d like to add that I didn’t receive so much as one scratch while bathing her. Amazing.)
Halloween evening just after my roommate April was said goodnight to her beau, she came in and said she thought she had heard some kitten meows from outside. So I went out to the porch to investigate. Barefoot. And it was cold. But then we saw it– a kitten sibling, running in the general direction of the house, meowing up a storm. Not little kitten mews, but long LOUD drawn out meows of alarm. The little guy kept running toward us, but then got spooked, and ran under a parked car.
We used his sister as a lure and I caught him, but it cost me a long kitten slice to the thumb.
So now I have two little orange fluff-balls in my home. They aren’t staying, but I feel compelled to see to it that they have a life better than a stray’s. I’m not sure where their other two siblings are, but at least with these two I can make a difference.
I figure they need all the help they can get. The more tame of the two is so attached to us that she meows when we’re walking around and she’s not in our arms. The other one just meows from time to time as if he’s still confused as to the specifics of his whereabouts. Also, it took him two days not to hiss at us when we bent over to pet him. So, they need a little training and some more people-time before they’d be ready for adoption… They’re quick, so I think they’ll do just fine. They were totally litter trained after one day, so I figure the other stuff will work itself out.
So I’m taking care of a couple of cute if not odd kittens. . . but I’m no cat lady.
Does anyone want a kitten?Dedicate (donate, give all) your life to something larger than yourself and pleasure– to the largest thing you can: to God, to relieving suffering, to contributing to knowledge, to adding to literature, or something else. Happiness lies this way, and it beats pleasure hollow. — Annie Dillard
Amen to that.
