Tag Archives: home ownership

Bad Kitties

While I was gone, Kitten Thunder hatched a plan. They always want under the sink in our upstairs bathroom but we’ve put baby locks on the doors to keep them out since the time we went on vacation and they spent some quality time in our walls. Accessed, initially, from the hole in the wall under the sink. Then they knocked a utility panel down and that made it easier.

There was also that time that Obi locked Oliver inside the cupboard.

So…baby locks. The kittehs “help” me clean the bathrooms, thinking I don’t know they are waiting for me to open that door to get the sponge. But I do know and I’m prepared to block them.

The Boy did not know.

One of the kittens exploded in the master bedroom on Sunday. I got a text from The Boy: “the boys are being naughty.”

bad

That would be Oliver’s butt as he disappears into the wall.

bad2And Obi, not interested in coming out when his brother had been grabbed and locked out of the bathroom.

He’s also not interested in having his picture taken.

 

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OutTV: Name That Tune

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SqueeSqueeSqueeSqueeSquee

Clunk clunk

SqueeSqueeSqueeSqueeSqueeSquee

Clunk

SqueeSquee

Clunk clunk

Clunk

SqueeSqueeSqueeSqueeee

So? Do you know the song?

Give up?

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It’s the theme song to Jeff Mows The Lawn, of course!

In this very special episode, The Boy asks Jeff if he’ll just mow our lawn too, while he’s at it. No cliffhanger here; Jeff politely refuses.

Two by Two…

Just a few hours after my family left on Sunday, the drain in the laundry room backed up. The Boy came down to move his clothes from the washing machine at the same time Obi and I, already downstairs, walked around the corner to find out what was glubbing. We arrived at Lake Laundry Room at the same time.

The water, luckily, was only that coming from the washing machine so the lake stopped in the hallway. And the water went down immediately when the washing machine was done. We have a half circle of very wet carpet. Life had to go on on Monday, and The Boy’s boss is less okay with nudists than mine (me), so one more load of laundry had to be done.

And before that, I needed to take the world’s fastest shower because Obi and I had been working out when the first calls for an ark came. I left the brown kitten on the stairs to supervise the drain with The Boy – we wanted to see if water would come from the shower as well.

Quick shower completed, I was putting on pajamas when I heard frantic crying from Obi. I rushed to the hallway. Obi, head poked around the corner from his place on the stairs, was calling: “GIRL! I CAN’T GET TO YOU! THE FLOOR IS SOGGY! COME HERE!”

I got a kiss from Obi for luck and took a running leap over the lake, landing on the other side with dry feet.

The plumber came today and liberated a cat-sized swamp minion from the floor drain. I’m happy to say he also rotorooted a kabillion tree roots from our sewer main; calling professionals in for just cat hair would have been really embarrassing.

And the lake has subsided. Orders for an ark have been canceled.

***

On a tangential, Biblical, note, the grocery store had what I assume was a Passover display. I got myself some Matzo. And this is what I know:

1. Eating matzo on the couch is not a really good idea.
2. Kitten Thunder also loves themselves some matzo.
3. Kittehs, in this case, are as effective as a vacuum.

Problem solved.

Sunday Snapshots

The Boy fixed the downstairs toilet today while I was at the old house painting the storage room because evidently people won’t buy a house just because it has a pink storage room. So now it’s Celadon. Men, that means it isn’t pink. The Boy had plenty of help. Oliver sat on the seat and looked in – helpfully proving once again that his head is not transparent and that it is hard to work through, over or around. Obi stood on the floor and showed how tall he is getting. He was on the floor mostly because he has helped me work on this toilet before and knows I don’t play the kitten on the toilet game.

***

Obi is big into showing how tall he’s getting lately. Which isn’t tall at all. But it is now tall enough that he has touched my sandwich on the counter when it was too close to the edge.

***

Oliver had a cootie in his ear and shook his head to get rid of it. I happened to be holding him and got a good thwacking from that ear. Slap! Slap! Slap! Across my face. You could hear it from the other side of the room.

***

As the sun was setting, Obi was watching the shadows of branches dance on the wall in the dining room. I stuck my finger into the beam and he attacked the shadow for a couple minutes. Then I laughed and he noticed I was in the room. Then, for the first time ever, he looked at where I was pointing! Except I wasn’t pointing at anything…

***

After dinner, Obi and I were sitting on the couch. Real casual, I lifted up my hand and DEPLOYED THE CLAW! Except Obi was about two inches further away than my reach. He looked at the claw. Watched it desperately trying to reach his face. Looked at me like I was a little stupid. Then I leaned over and moved within clawing range. THE CLAW!

“Drat. How did you find the camera?”

 ***

On my way in to blog, I noticed that Mr. Bear is in the hallway again. And Oliver had the need…the need to knead.

"Kneading you into a puddle is how I show I care."

Caught, Red Pawed

This blog is going to be quick because I am off to the old house to paint. More painting. Ugh. I am so sick of painting. Painting, painting, painting. If I was worried about seeing this house go, I’ve gotten over it with all the painting. And, over the ten years that I’ve owned that house, I did enough painting that you’d think there’d be no more painting left to do.

When Oliver was a juvenile I refinanced my house. To do this, I needed a new appraisal. And that meant finishing the stairwell. Fast. It was 2 a.m. and I was painting away. I’d painted every other step of the stairs so I could still go up and down. I used this great, rich scarlet paint. While the floor dried, I was painting the trim around the door the same color.

I heard a tiny mew.

I look down from my ladder and there is Oliver, holding up one tiny red paw. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. From the paint tray there were paw tracks leading down the steps and into the basement. They went about twenty feet before fading out. Oli had tried to clean his own feet. Then he came to me to confess…and beg for help.

There’s a lot that goes through your mind at a time like that. Is concrete paint poisonous? How much did he lick off? Do you get extra points on your appraisal for adorable cat prints?

It was about 4 a.m. when I finished washing Oliver’s feet. They’d faded to a delightful, very girly pink. They stayed that way for weeks. I went back to painting and worked for about five minutes before I decided that it would be two full days before someone came looking for me if I fell down the stairs and broke something. I stopped.

And never started again.

So last month I finished painting the walls in the stairwell. And now I’m off to do the doors and finish that floor. Bye bye, cute little kitty prints.