I swear, I am going to KILL the neighbors' granddaughters.
So! The weekend! I kind of thought I'd be in Florida, but my sister-in-law had been adamant in insisting she did not want a funeral service, and my brother was adamant that he didn't want anybody flying down, so ... I was home. I'm hopeful that at some point I will be spending time in Florida with my brother, but per his wishes, it's not going to be right how.
Saturday we had an adoption event, which ... oh lord, there's some entertainment value, right there. From the Russian immigrants who cannot understand why the cats are not free ("In Moscow, you just go out in the street and scoop one up! And then it's your cat!") to the woman who held kitten after kitten after kitten, wailing that "None of them love me!", to the woman who had her cats declawed "because I'm 74, and when I go, my son will be taking my cats, and he has leather sofas!" (OH PLEASE), and we couldn't figure out who she looked like, until I finally decided it was a cross between George C. Scott and Katherine Chancellor from The Young and The Restless ... well, it's never boring.
And then I had to go home and mow, which ... by this time of year, I am just OVER the whole mowing thing, you know? It's, like, grass, you can STOP GROWING NOW. YOU'VE GROWN ENOUGH THIS YEAR.
And Saturday night Soda brought in a bird, which appeared to be BRIGHT GREEN, and I'm all, Oh my God did he kill someone's PARAKEET?, until I realized that the bird actually had sprigs of leaves in its wings, which ... was it garnish? Was Soda auditioning for Master Chef? I have no idea.
And then! Sunday was Tinks' (approximate) birthday, so ham and chicken and catnip were enjoyed by all. And a good deal of time was spent in the backyard. And the neighbors' ten-year-old twin granddaughters WOULD NOT stop chasing the cats, until I finally yelled at them. No, I didn't use swear words, but yes, I yelled. Yeah, that's me, earning brownie points in the neighborhood.
And then, on one of those news shows on TV, a shocking expose revealing that ... carnival games are rigged! NO. I HAD NO IDEA.
So ... how was your weekend?
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2 comments:
It is hard when someone opts to not have a service. You are just expected to go own. I belief the ritual of a funeral or celebration of life or a wake is important in the grieving process.
None of the cats love her? Pulease! Cats don't love you until they are damn good and ready and even then it is hit and miss. My ungrateful bastard loves me but he isn't about to show affection until he is in the mood.
Birdie, yeah, I detest the word "closure", but ... well ... it's like she's not gone, you know? Which is a good thing, I guess ...
And all of the kittens the woman held were friendly and snuggly, so I'm not really sure what more she expected. Some kind of divine sign, I guess. I should have told her that the sound of a can of cat food being opened would give her the sign she's looking for ...
I hope you're doing well tonight - I'm thinking of you.
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