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Jul. 26th, 2005 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeThe best feeling in the world is that of stretching my arms over my head, then pulling them slightly backwards until my shoulders pop. Kind of like cracking one's knuckles, only on a much larger scale.
It's glorious.
It has been a week and a half of insanity. We had house guests last week,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
disastrid and Jeff (whose LJ name I do not know, or if he actually has one), who are currently travelling across the US in the name of art. Astrid made dinner for everyone the second night she was here, we talked a world of smack on various and sundry things, and I was actually driven to thinking about writing again.
That and a couple of hours before I met up with them, I was told by another friend that he'd been waiting for the ending of a short story of mine for about three years and if I didn't produce one soon, he was going to kick me.
It's a strange wonder what the threat of physical violence will make me do.
This weekend was filled with driving up to Miss Robin's for thwarted swimming plans and the squeeing over of kittens.
Let me preface this bit by informing you all that I get kitten fever like most women get baby-rabies. Kittens are my kryptonite. They are my heroin. There is nothing quite like a loudly purring ball of big-earred fluff to make me grin like aDown Syndrome kid working the Fry-O-Later like a grinning thing grins at things.
That being said, Kitten #1 (Lucy, short for Lucifer) is the boingy-est little thing I've ever met. I played with her for a good three hours straight, without even the glimpse of a nap. I even managed to get her to jump from the Engineer's bald head, much to my amusement and his disdain. Also, her entire head fits in my mouth.
Kitten #2 (Axel) looks and acts exactly like a teeny version of my Russian Blue, Nympho. We didn't interface all that much because he wasn't feeling up to snuff due to an alledged spider bite in his eye and an emergency run to the vet's office (which is what thwarted our swimming plans).
No dogs peed on anyone and a grand time was had by all. I even got to feed the Oscars, something which always brings me great joy.
Sunday, I wasforced invited to Cracker Barrell for dinner, which was fairly uneventful except for me shouting, "Larry's got the trots!" across the parking lot to Rowan and the two orders of Frosty Mug Apple Cider I downed. "Frosty Mug" apparently means 'apple cider with some ice cubes thrown in', but I am more than down with that as I am verily queer for the ice, as the Engineer will tell you. At great length.
Backtrack a little, on Friday the Engineer had to have one of his rats, Solomon, put down. He'd been in very poor health for some time now, despite our best efforts to medicate and get him back up to snuff. Sadly, his little body was just starting to give out and there wasn't anything else we could do. The Engineer constructed a great casket for him to be buried in and this evening, we drove down to my father's house for the burial.
He now rests a couple of feet away from my Aardie, with some banana chips and letters of love wrapped up with him.
It's glorious.
It has been a week and a half of insanity. We had house guests last week,
disastrid and Jeff (whose LJ name I do not know, or if he actually has one), who are currently travelling across the US in the name of art. Astrid made dinner for everyone the second night she was here, we talked a world of smack on various and sundry things, and I was actually driven to thinking about writing again.That and a couple of hours before I met up with them, I was told by another friend that he'd been waiting for the ending of a short story of mine for about three years and if I didn't produce one soon, he was going to kick me.
It's a strange wonder what the threat of physical violence will make me do.
This weekend was filled with driving up to Miss Robin's for thwarted swimming plans and the squeeing over of kittens.
Let me preface this bit by informing you all that I get kitten fever like most women get baby-rabies. Kittens are my kryptonite. They are my heroin. There is nothing quite like a loudly purring ball of big-earred fluff to make me grin like a
That being said, Kitten #1 (Lucy, short for Lucifer) is the boingy-est little thing I've ever met. I played with her for a good three hours straight, without even the glimpse of a nap. I even managed to get her to jump from the Engineer's bald head, much to my amusement and his disdain. Also, her entire head fits in my mouth.
Kitten #2 (Axel) looks and acts exactly like a teeny version of my Russian Blue, Nympho. We didn't interface all that much because he wasn't feeling up to snuff due to an alledged spider bite in his eye and an emergency run to the vet's office (which is what thwarted our swimming plans).
No dogs peed on anyone and a grand time was had by all. I even got to feed the Oscars, something which always brings me great joy.
Sunday, I was
Backtrack a little, on Friday the Engineer had to have one of his rats, Solomon, put down. He'd been in very poor health for some time now, despite our best efforts to medicate and get him back up to snuff. Sadly, his little body was just starting to give out and there wasn't anything else we could do. The Engineer constructed a great casket for him to be buried in and this evening, we drove down to my father's house for the burial.
He now rests a couple of feet away from my Aardie, with some banana chips and letters of love wrapped up with him.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-26 01:20 pm (UTC)