Dear Flying Spaghetti Monster,
I have so much to do. We have house guests coming in a few weeks and there are still whole rooms in which you cannot see the floor because of the boxes. Unfortunately, two of these rooms are rooms in which we will be asking our house guests to reside. So you can see how there is a lot to do: beds to buy, crap to throw out, new crap to buy.
Our house in Austin still hasn't sold and there is a lot of paperwork associated with getting the plumbing leak under the kitchen tile floor fixed and the floor replaced, what with everything now happening long distance. (I have more to say to you on this subject but I am trying to contain myself.) There are phone calls to make and checks to write--always, always, there are checks to write.
My children are beginning to adjust to the move--at least they've mostly stopped crying --and so now I need to undo some of the damage. Like spot painting where Jane wrote on her newly painted wall and trying to figure out if the six million guilt presents we gave the girls will actually fit in their rooms.
I would like to start exercising again and we still have our missing orange cat to find. (I know he's out there but you really could drop me a hint or two as to where to look.) I can't figure out how to turn our sprinkler system on and I can't decide what to order to replace those faulty kitchen drawers.
Did I mention the house guests?
Anyway, lots to do. I don't mean to complain but it strikes me as just a tad unsportsmanlike that you've sent this unbelievable weather to me right this very second. And that all around me, the earth is bursting forth with foliage the likes of which I've never seen--we couldn't grow much in Austin, you know. I'm such a frustrated (and truly terrible) farmer, as you well know, Noodly Master. But it seems I can't resist all this beauty, even if I don't know what it is.
It's calling to me. I can hear it.
Beds to make... and laundry. (Always, always the laundry.) Hair to Swiffer. (Always, always the dog hair.)
Although, I really need to arrange the outdoor furniture, too, right? And I could throw the ball for Scout a few zillion times...
I have to pick up Ana in an hour and that leaves very little time to stand firm against all this temptation and get stuff done.
But then again, I know your motto: Carbo Diem.
I would look around and see where the most likely place is that he would've run to in a hurry. Someplace that might have looked safe to him.
And I wouldn't discount that someone kind might have taken pity on him and assumed he was a stray.
I'd put a note on Craigs List, and start scouring the neighborhood again.
I'd go back to the Humane Society, call as many vets as possible. Again.
I'd look at night, too, in case he's scared to come out in the daylight.
You've probably thought of all of these... but since I'm still dreaming about him, just thought I'd mention it.
What kind of bad friends/relatives are coming to STAY WITH you so close to a move? I say put the boxes all together and throw a sleeping bag on top, along with brochure for closest hotel. Welcome!
And by the way, I think that might be the gayest man ever. And that was a very random little video. I have to say, though, I was totally transfixed.
Oh, and PS - my ex once had his entire ginormous Italian family descend on him while he was in the middle of rehabbing about half his house. We came up with some great ideas about what to do with them...greeting them at the door with tools and paintbrushes and telling them that's how they were getting into the guest room...setting out strategically placed brochures for the nearest hotels...setting up tents in the back yard and labeling them "Guest Room"...having sleeping bags already laid out on the living room floor with place cards on them...
Oh, by the way, I do know that the bottom photo is a pansy. I just liked that this random pansy was coming up through the pave stones... I don't know. I'm weird like that.
Twyla, Twyla, Twyla
ANd I was a bit worried when the dancer's belt came undone. I was letting Lily watch it with me and thought I was going to have to cover her eyes.
Oh - company and moving never mix. On the other hand - no better time to have company, because you have every excuse for things being a mess. So just - relax and go with it.
Awww, poor kidlets.