There are signs that things might actually get back to normal around here eventually. I wouldn't say they'd be the same . . . but normal . . . ish. Either that or something is about to explode.
So the parking lot/canal wall job was finally finished Saturday. Which is good. I suppose. You see, for some reason that I really cannot figure out they moved the new wall section back toward the complex by at least two feet. For those of you who know how ridiculously narrow our parking lot was to begin with, I'm sure you echo my sentiments when I say - what the crap were they thinking?! For the last six weeks I've been watching the new wall materialize and more and more I've been thinking - this cannot end well.
I can only assume that those lost feet are the reason that the lines were repainted on a diagonal. It's a rather slight diagonal - so slight, in fact that I didn't even notice until I parked my car in the new area, got out, and had to spend a good three minutes figuring out why the line went under my car because I am not that terrible at parking, thank you very much! So now I'm wondering if that was the most perfectly straight parking job I've ever done in my life, or if it just looked like it because of the lines. And seriously, you've got a parking lot that's narrower than my kitchen with only one way out, and you paint diagonal lines that forces people to back out the wrong way to get out? Not good. Especially since the rest of the lot still has straight lines. And unless there happens to be an empty straight spot there is not enough room to turn around at the back end. Talk about a disaster waiting to happen.
Side note: totally almost backed into Luke's car last night. Mine was in a straight spot, his was in a diagonal on the other side. I'm foreseeing lots of similar catastrophes, especially come winter - and not just with me! But would it be better or worse to hit Luke's car than someone else's? Deep question, no?
Also, they've finally started the remodel . . . rehab? . . . of the two apartments above us. The good news: no midnight Rock Band parties. The bad news: constant banging/hammering/clattering/etc. from 8 am to about 5. Luke gets off work at midnight, so we usually don't get to bed until at least 1:00. Blargh. Also, there's a dumpster right outside our apartment so the construction guys can toss things out from the floor above us right down to the floor below. So there's clattering above and below. Good times. On the plus side, the crew has rigged up a couple of tarps to make sure the stuff they chuck lands in the dumpster and not, you know, on us or the girls below us. Which means that now the whole apartment never sees the light of day, instead of just the back side - but it also makes for built in shade. Right now the living room is a good 5 or 10 degrees cooler than even just stepping outside the door, much less actually moving into the sun. Here's hoping we get some actual somewhere weather so it ends up being worthwhile.
Lastly, there are a few cats that we see around from time to time. There's this one adorable white and gray kitty that I'd been seeing more and more often lately. Wednesday we had our front door open airing the place out and I was on the couch reading. Kitty had been wandering around the complex all morning and we'd seen him and heard him and stuff. Then I hear a little meow and look up and there's a little white head poking around the doorway. He looks at me, meows again, and walks right in making himself at home. And I melted. He was so cute!!!! He had the loudest purr going, and he cuddled with me and let me pet him and scratch his ears and . . . I am such a cat person. It was awesome. So I played with him for a little while, but then we had to put him out. I felt kind of bad because he's clearly a house cat who's been spending more and more time outside lately.
Then that night it storms and we hear a kitty crying. And it's pouring. So Luke, who is also a huge cat person, goes out looking. And finds a poor little kitty upstairs eating out of a bag of garbage that the construction crew left outside. Naturally, Luke had to bring him in out of the rain. And again, he sits himself down and makes himself right at home, drying and cleaning himself off. And assuming he was hungry . . . because, you know, he was eating out of the trash . . . Luke even offered him some of his lunch meat. Which Kitty snubbed. This would be the point where we concluded he had taken up the life of a con artist kitty after his food supply dried up - where ever it was coming from. At this point I'm laying down in the couch reading and after he's all done cleaning off he jumps up onto my head and settles down. As if I didn't want to keep him already!! If there was anything left of me to melt, it would have. So we decide we'll let him stay the night, because who could put a cat out into a rainy night?! And in the morning we'll take him . . . somewhere. We really didn't have much of an idea at that point. So we make a little bed for him and leave the back door cracked open so he can get out if he wants to and we go to bed. And Luke leaves our bedroom door open because he grew up with cats and misses having one sleeping on his bed. I have to admit, I did thoroughly enjoy waking up and finding a Princess Tiffany at my feet in the mornings that summer Ashli and I spent a couple of weeks at Grandma's house too, so it was kind of awesome when he did come into our room and curl up next to me. MELT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I soooooooooooooo wanted to keep him! But then he decided he'd had his fun or something . . . so he leaves. :-( And next thing we know it's Thursday afternoon and he's sitting outside the (now closed) back door. Just looking. And waiting. But apparently we didn't react fast enough for him because he went next door and begged his way in there. Luke and the girl ext door both called animal control.
So they came and got him, and it about broke my heart seeing him get taken away in that tiny little box. I felt like a complacent German watching the Nazis haul the Jews away. And that was before he looked at me . . . and meowed his most pitiful little con artist's meow. Seriously - you would have thought I was the one flipping the switch in the gas chamber!
And now I really, really, want to get a kitty. Sort of. My thoughts on animals are much the same as they are with children. I love them . . . and I love giving them back when I'm done. I don't want to have to worry about buying cat food and a litter box and making sure someone will watch feed it if we happen to go anywhere - and it's a good thing too, considering we can't have pets! But just for right now, I'm kind of in love with the mental image . . . the stuff you see in pet food commercials, you know. Is there a way to get the purrs and the cuddles without the shedding and the smell? Because I am so there.
P. ost S. cript
I know what you're thinking - "it's a cute kitty video, isn't it?"
It's three cute kitty videos. :-)