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Oh shit. Blade Ninja Kitten just managed to get inside the dog couch while I was in the toilet. That couch is going to have to go (assuming I can get the damn cat out of it). I have an identical one in the bedroom in much better shape without handy cat-holes in it.
and this is where I run smack into one of the big drawbacks of living alone. also, neither of my arms are working that well just now. elbow has been dodgy since I re-buggered it doing Blogathon, left hand fingers are all swollen. I don't really feel up to lugging one couch down two flights of stairs and the other into its place, but I can't leave it where it is for cats to hide in. it's not safe.
this morning I tried an old wives' remedy on the swollen fingers - I stung it with nettle leaves. I think it actually did help a bit, or maybe the stinging just stopped me noticing. really, I ought to chop them into my food as a stealth vegetable or drink nettle tea but I can't be arsed picking or buying any. easier just to squeeze leaves when my dog walking takes me past them.
Mum is spending the week in London with my youngest sister and being reunited with her cat. While she's gone, I have been ordered to put money in the electric meter at Grimmauld Place. This involves 1. walking to Grimmauld Place (a 25-30 minute walk) to get the electric meter key. 2. walking to One Stop to load the key with money (at least a twenty minute walk from Grimmauld Place) 3. walking back to Grimmauld Place to stick the key in the meter and 4. walking home. She expected me to do this yesterday and she's texted me three times today to nag me about it. I don't even feel up to walking to the end of the road right now. I find myself having to lie down after taking the dogs out.
I'm also supposed to be at Grimmauld Place on Wednesday. Someone's supposed to be coming to do something (bathroom floor? damned if I can remember). I haven't been told what time I'm meant to be there by, or how long I'm supposed to hang around. She wants me to leave the dogs here because "they'll mess up her garden and track dirt on her carpet." Uh, Mum? The garden looks like one of the last remaining chunks of rain forest and the carpet in the lounge would make a fitting labour for a modern-day Hercules. Remember how you called the carpet cleaning company who were doing free demonstrations and they refused to touch it?
Anyway. Not leaving the dogs here. If I have to do that fucking walk someone should at least get some fucking pleasure out of it. I'll have to shut the cats in the bedroom. I just know if I don't I'll come back and find one impaled on an invisible spike in the couch-innards or hanged in the blind-cord.
Today Callette broke a piece of bamboo off the blinds and I caught her trying to eat it. She also found a screw somewhere and tried to eat that.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vatoengland, make sure you watch her round anything she can fit in her mouth, she seems to have a Squish-like attitude - eat it all and let the gut sort the food from the non-food. I've cleaned up after Spotted McGarbagedog often enough to know there's a basic flaw in that theory.
Cassie is in heat again. I didn't realise they cycled so fast. I'm not used to intact animals and in any case I expected it to be something sensible like twice a year like dogs. Stupid me. I'm still sticking to my plan of waiting till the kittens are gone to spay her. She can't get out - my front door opens onto a hallway, stairs and three more (self-closing)doors between here and outside - so there's no risk of getting pregnant again, but the risk of me strangling her from sheer annoyance is rising sharply. No, obviously I'm not serious, but it is fucking annoying. I've taken to yowling back at her. It doesn't help any but it relieves my tension. I expect the men in white coats any day now.
I really need some food, but I sort of changed my grocery habits... everything I bought this week is pretty much an ingredient. I have flour but no bread, I have raw chicken and vegetables and stuff bursting the fridge but not a single fucking thing I can just eat.
and I am so damn fucking tired.
/end whine.
edit; also, I can't find the key to Mum's house anywhere. this would be vaguely worrying except with luck it means I can use it as an excuse not to schlep over there. because honestly, i don't think i can.
and this is where I run smack into one of the big drawbacks of living alone. also, neither of my arms are working that well just now. elbow has been dodgy since I re-buggered it doing Blogathon, left hand fingers are all swollen. I don't really feel up to lugging one couch down two flights of stairs and the other into its place, but I can't leave it where it is for cats to hide in. it's not safe.
this morning I tried an old wives' remedy on the swollen fingers - I stung it with nettle leaves. I think it actually did help a bit, or maybe the stinging just stopped me noticing. really, I ought to chop them into my food as a stealth vegetable or drink nettle tea but I can't be arsed picking or buying any. easier just to squeeze leaves when my dog walking takes me past them.
Mum is spending the week in London with my youngest sister and being reunited with her cat. While she's gone, I have been ordered to put money in the electric meter at Grimmauld Place. This involves 1. walking to Grimmauld Place (a 25-30 minute walk) to get the electric meter key. 2. walking to One Stop to load the key with money (at least a twenty minute walk from Grimmauld Place) 3. walking back to Grimmauld Place to stick the key in the meter and 4. walking home. She expected me to do this yesterday and she's texted me three times today to nag me about it. I don't even feel up to walking to the end of the road right now. I find myself having to lie down after taking the dogs out.
I'm also supposed to be at Grimmauld Place on Wednesday. Someone's supposed to be coming to do something (bathroom floor? damned if I can remember). I haven't been told what time I'm meant to be there by, or how long I'm supposed to hang around. She wants me to leave the dogs here because "they'll mess up her garden and track dirt on her carpet." Uh, Mum? The garden looks like one of the last remaining chunks of rain forest and the carpet in the lounge would make a fitting labour for a modern-day Hercules. Remember how you called the carpet cleaning company who were doing free demonstrations and they refused to touch it?
Anyway. Not leaving the dogs here. If I have to do that fucking walk someone should at least get some fucking pleasure out of it. I'll have to shut the cats in the bedroom. I just know if I don't I'll come back and find one impaled on an invisible spike in the couch-innards or hanged in the blind-cord.
Today Callette broke a piece of bamboo off the blinds and I caught her trying to eat it. She also found a screw somewhere and tried to eat that.
vatoengland, make sure you watch her round anything she can fit in her mouth, she seems to have a Squish-like attitude - eat it all and let the gut sort the food from the non-food. I've cleaned up after Spotted McGarbagedog often enough to know there's a basic flaw in that theory. Cassie is in heat again. I didn't realise they cycled so fast. I'm not used to intact animals and in any case I expected it to be something sensible like twice a year like dogs. Stupid me. I'm still sticking to my plan of waiting till the kittens are gone to spay her. She can't get out - my front door opens onto a hallway, stairs and three more (self-closing)doors between here and outside - so there's no risk of getting pregnant again, but the risk of me strangling her from sheer annoyance is rising sharply. No, obviously I'm not serious, but it is fucking annoying. I've taken to yowling back at her. It doesn't help any but it relieves my tension. I expect the men in white coats any day now.
I really need some food, but I sort of changed my grocery habits... everything I bought this week is pretty much an ingredient. I have flour but no bread, I have raw chicken and vegetables and stuff bursting the fridge but not a single fucking thing I can just eat.
and I am so damn fucking tired.
/end whine.
edit; also, I can't find the key to Mum's house anywhere. this would be vaguely worrying except with luck it means I can use it as an excuse not to schlep over there. because honestly, i don't think i can.
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except for the WAH SEX WAH WAH WAH WAH SEX WAH WAH WAH noise. I hope my neighbours don't think I'm torturing her. I swear she couldn't be any louder if I WAS.