Things seemed so dire on Monday when we were given the diagnosis, and again on Wednesday when she was so sick, but she seemed to be okay by Thursday. I spent most of the day at home keeping an eye on her, and she seemed better. She ate some of her dry food and kept it down . I also bought her some canned cat food. (Iams Proactive Health brand food. Now there’s irony if I ever saw it.) I was hoping that the canned food would sit better with her stomach and it did. I gave her a small amount to begin with and she woofed it down. Poor thing was hungry!
And yes, I know the poor cat is on the tail end of her ninth life, but I seriously think she’s taking advantage of me and my obvious sorrow over her impending passing. See, every single time I use the bathroom now, and I do mean every-single-ever-lovin’-time…whether it be to actually… you know… use the bathroom, or simply to grab a tissue or just wash my hands…suddenly there she is trying to look all forlorn and pitiful and weak.
And then she starts in on me. “MEOW! MEOW! Poor me! Pick me up, puh-leeze! You know I simply can’t make the leap up there to your lovely sink and I want to drink out of that faucet thingy where the water comes out all fresh and clean and has no hairs of other cats in it. And also, be sure not to turn it on too much. Just a trickle please. Thank you. That is lovely. You know I just can’t possibly drink out of that big, blue bowl full of water into which Tigger has been sticking his tongue. Eeeew. Cough! Cough!”
Okay, so cats don’t actually cough, but the rest is very true, I’m pretty sure. And I’m totally letting her get away with it because I plan to spoil her rotten for the rest of her days, even if she might actually be milking it just a little bit.
So, while Holly and I hung out on my day off, I was also waiting for the appliance repair guy to come and tell me what was so wrong with my brand spanking new oven that it refused to heat up. Steve showed up in a timely fashion and went to work figuring out what the problem might be. First he checked to make sure the gas was on. (Duh!) And then he started taking pieces off of and out of the oven. He stuck tools inside and checked his little computer and such. I proceeded to fold laundry at the kitchen table, trying not to look like I was scrutinizing him too much as he worked down on the floor with his head in my oven. He seemed a nice enough guy. He didn’t try to steal my pot-holders or Tupperware from the cupboard near where he was working, so that was good. I’m telling you, you can trust those G.E. Appliance Experts!
Steve talked on and on, sometimes to himself and sometimes to me. And wouldn’t you know it, he pulled his head out of the oven and turned to look at me just as I pulled a pair of my string bikinis out of the basket of laundry I was folding. I stuffed them back in the basket and tried to look all like “Underwear? What underwear? No, we don’t have any underwear in our laundry, Heaven forbid! No underwear here! Those hot pink things? Yeah, those were socks. Totally socks.”
Steve was kind enough to pretend not to notice my hot pink underwear.
So, as Steve the G.E. Appliance Expert informed me, the problem was simply something called a glow bar. I pretended to know just what a glow bar was, because, quite frankly, I didn’t care as long as it got fixed or replaced. Steve said that glow bars are delicate parts and it is quite common for them to be damaged during shipping. He replaced mine and then showed me it was working, all like “behold the flames!” I did my best job of looking impressed, all like, “Wow, look at that. Fire. I can cook now. Yay.”
I thanked him, and off he went to rescue yet another appliance. All in a day’s work for Super G.E. Appliance Expert Steve, I am quite sure.
And also, I’m sure you are asking yourself what these pictures have to do with anything I’ve written here so far. Well, if you would just be patient, I will tell you that the tulips are getting ready to bloom in the little garden underneath the crab-apple tree. I actually tried to get rid of all the tulips a few years ago, but some of the bulbs were all stealth-like and escaped their demise. I don’t necessarily dislike tulips, but they are only pretty for like a week before they croak, and then you have to leave all the stems there until they sort of dry up and you can pull them off the bulbs. But now I’m just too lazy to remove the rest of them, so there you go. Pictures of spring in my front yard!
And also, Kacey has a volleyball tournament this weekend, and I think I am actually going to stay home! Because I have been a super-supportive volleyball mom and attended every single tournament so far. And this weekend, Mark is available to go with her, and it is a very local tournament, so I’m thinking I’ll just stay home and have a non-chaotic weekend for a change. But I haven’t told Mark yet that I’m bailing out and he gets to go solo this time, so Shhhhhhhh, okay?
Have a great weekend!