The kitchen renovation was slated to begin at 11:00 this morning. Yesterday, I frantically cleaned out all the bottom cupboards and removed things from the countertops, pausing only to wonder when I bought Gorilla Munch, as its best before date was over a year ago. All items are now in big Rubbermaid containers and/or on my table and/or under my coffee table. I was ready to go! And…now it’s 11:30. I received information that they will start this afternoon, which is fine, that makes the lunch rush much less awkward, but I feel a little lost.
In order to assuage my lost little girl feelings, I decided it was time for a field trip to the garden centre. Stocking up on plants prior to the long weekend seemed like a good idea, although I certainly will not actually plant them yet as it is supposed to snow. Good times, YYC. Good times. I had full intentions of only buying a few plants for my containers, but ended up with a cart that looked like this:
I was powerless to stop myself. Right now they are all on the deck, just waiting to be covered up before the snow flies.
I just credit myself for not purchasing one of the many beautiful bird houses on display. I almost put a very lovely one in my cart, but then I remembered: my dog likes to kill birds! Wheee! Perhaps a bird house would be ill-advised.
Speaking of my murderous dog, I almost had an experience that would strain neighbour relations in a significant way. These neighbours, a few doors down, have very pampered indoor cats, one of whom likes to escape a lot. I was working downstairs and came up to fill my coffee cup for the fourth time when I noticed the cat – whose name is, and I am not making this up, Beeps – in the backyard. Barkley was also in the backyard. I bolted for the door, just in time as Barkley took the opportunity to pounce. He was mere centimetres away from the not-so-bright cat, when I called and collared him. As I shuffled him into the house, I noticed my neighbour, standing on the other side of the fence, looking completely unfazed. “That was a bit close,” I said to her. “Oh, no.” she smiled at me vacantly. “They were just playing. They’re friends!”
Now, I am the first to admit I don’t know much about cats. However. I am aware of the saying “fighting like cats and dogs” and also I am aware that the cat is much, much smaller than my dog and is declawed. If I have to bring a cat corpse over to my neighbour’s house one day, I am not going to be happy on a number of levels. My friend suggested that should there be a cat corpse in my backyard, perhaps it should be BURIED in my backyard, in order to keep neighbourly relations. Not a bad plan, although it makes me feel a little bit like I would be starring in a less-interesting version of Rear Window.
Perhaps I should have purchased one of these at the garden centre:
Animatronic owls!
I just got off the phone with the plumber. I am going to be without a working sink until FRIDAY. Friday of the long weekend. Anxiety is looming. It feels like SO MUCH could go wrong.
I will take my mind off this. Cute kid anecdote: my kids were playing Star Wars before school this morning, and the characters they were portraying were Anakin (Mark) and Luke (Jake). Now, Anakin DID chop off Luke’s hand, but it was by accident and it was to save him because he was trapped. Luke forgave him. Then they went to Planet Hoth to go snowboarding! Good times in Utopian Star Wars.
I felt I had to share this cute anecdote as I have been talking so much about my dog lately that I was starting to feel that I was portraying myself as a crazy dog lady. Which…I might be. Dammit. I should have bought that owl.
Mmmmm yeah, I find it really hard to believe that the indoor neighbor cat and your dog have somehow become friends like in a Disney film. I don’t let my cats out because they are dumb as a box of hair and, therefore, would certainly end up injured or killed within moments in a scenario much like the one you’ve described. Someday I fear you are going to have to live out a scene from Rear Window.
It is always like that for me at the garden store. I’ve forced myself not to go until late May at the earliest, otherwise I might as well just flush my money down the toilet because I buy plants, they get drowned in the (inevitable) rain, I’m sad, then I buy all the same plants again a month later. No garden store for me for at least two more weeks.
Ha! “Yo Dad, thanks for chopping off that troublesome hand. Slap that prosthetic on! High five! Let’s go get smoothies!”
We had a cat and lived downstairs from people with a hundred-pound lab/mastiff. The dumbass animals loved each other. The dog was actually more afraid of the cat. But our cat wasn’t declawed. Your neighbour sounds dumber than all the animals.
cat lady..has never had a dog..lol or had her cats killed lol..I have indoor de-clawed cats and even when they are playing it always eventually turns violent lol its their nature even when they are with another pet they get along with..cats don’t play that’s just an intro to the hunt, they toy a bit then go in for the kill lol..with other animals they don’t know..its predator right from the get go..and as someone who grew up with big dogs…a cat and a dog in a fight..cat looses loll..I think the lady needs to see her cat hanging out of your dogs mouth..then she might not be so naive loll
I would be more shocked if the contractors showed up on time.
Someone needs to start a webcomic called the New Adventures of Beeps and Barkley! Each strip would end with you burying Beeps in the backyard. It will be a classic.
So dog’s and cars are friends. How did that conversation strike up?I think crazy cat lady needs crazy Kim lady’s medicine 😉
I…have one of those owls to keep birds out of the kids’ playhouse. *hangs head*
Those owls look awesome.
I am so awful with plants so I don’t even bother.
My cat would probably just run from the dog. He’s very skittish.
In case you are working on your sink and faucet, you must not use faucets and sinks which could pretty very easily break down just after having the results of the regular usage for just a couple of months or several years.