Relief

7:55 a.m.

How is it possible that yesterday was Labor Day and it's September? How? But also, I'm so excited for Halloween.

My parents came up on Saturday for a quick visit. This was especially good because it forced me to finish arranging the house (the den was still a mess before Friday) and also to cook something other than frozen taquitos. (Shut up.) I made Pioneer Woman's delicious lasagna, and forced myself not to stray from the recipe (except I think I had more meat than I was supposed to). Everyone ate it and loved it, and although it is not my personal favorite sort of lasagna, it was very meaty and hearty and meaty and good. Also, meaty. It was a very manly, burly lasagna, is what I'm trying to say, and would be very good for the lumberjack-type in your life, and also for when you want something pasta-y but super meaty.

Meaty!

So it was nice that my parents came, even though my mother did poke the New Thick Gray Stripe I've developed in the last two months and declare that it was actually white. She again confessed her fears that I'm taking after her father, who was completely white by the ripe old age of 30. The other day I even noticed a third silvery streak developing, but I don't think anyone else noticed. When I had one gray strip of hair, it seemed sort of unique and sassy, but now that there are three I'm starting to think it's less sassy and more like I am "going to be completely white by thirty."

Eh.

So! The house is finally settled, and we got a couch for the den so we can now loll in front of the television to watch hours of the Simpsons and eat leftovers of Saturday night's banana cake. The pets are settling into their normal pet routines. The cats are ecstatic about the new den couch and only leave it to eat and poop. They plaster themselves to it and defy anyone to remove them. I think it would be easiest to pry them off with crowbars, or maybe use dynamite, because when we scoot them over to make room for us, the cranky cat bitching! The growling! The dramatic squeaks and snarls! There is no room for us! You know, us. The humans who provided the couch. Also, if one of us gets up for any reason they will steal that seat SO FAST, you guys. Cats and the couch, BFF.

BFF 4-EVA!

And the dog? The dog is figuring out this whole we-don't-have-a-fence-now-so-you-have-to-potty-while-on-a-leash thing. I don't know what made it click, but the leash peeing has sunk in to his thick, horse-like skull. (The light bulb probably went off when we started giving him treats and squealing excitedly, "Good dog! Good dog! You're such a good boy, good dog!" every time he had an acceptable leash potty experience.) We're on our fourth solid day of him peeing promptly and pooping regularly after each of his two daily walks. You see, the pooping was the hardest to work out, because he apparently is ashamed for us to see him take a dump, but now it goes like this: in the morning and evening we take him out, he pees in the yard, we go for a long walk, we return, he poops in our yard. (He's a good sport.) We had a frustrating few days of wanting to rip our hair out because we didn't think he was ever going to poop. And also, praying he would figure out that whole go to the bathroom promptly thing. When you take a dog out at midnight, and you stand in the damp backyard for an HOUR, and he doesn't pee, and then you take him inside and he's all, OH WAIT GUYS I NEED TO PEE, it's sort of annoying. But I think he's gotten it down. And it makes everyone much happier and very relieved.

Also, I snaked the kitchen sink pipes to fix the clogged drain that had being driving me crazy, because I am strapping and plumber-ish and handy. I felt fancy about that. Especially because it was disgusting, and the black tar-like substance that I got out of the pipe was not OUR rotted grease, but the previous owner's rotted grease. Disgusting! And yet I did not even throw up in my mouth a teensy bit, so I felt fancy. I yelled to J, "HEY, I'M LIKE BOB VILLA." Which, really, I had that reference completely and totally wrong. He was right to disagree. Also, he was sitting on the floor right next to me so the yelling was completely unnecessary.

You see how it is, around here.

So the dust is settling, and I haven't had a panic attack since Saturday morning, nor have I cried since then. I'll be getting into an art daily routine, starting today. I might suck it up and even get brave enough to call the local art organization. It's run by the people who run the anti-abortion organization, and I'm sort of confused by that, but surely I should call anyway. (Edited later to say, um, not trying to alienate readers--I'm just wondering about overlap of the groups, as I don't want to be associated with either side of an abortion argument, as my abortion opinions are complex and muddled. Also, it's a small town, and I worry about things. I hope that didn't come off all rude, etc.)

To sum up, everyone here is in a much better place emotionally than they were last week.

September!
black sheeped