And of course a picture of Kado!
Kado only seems to cry when he is hungry. So, I feed him and we all get along.
It is late, and I have to get back to my Alcott biography, but, I must list a few items of importance...
My new glasses came today! They are AMAZING! I can see! Really, truly see! Even my ability to read has improved leaps and bounds. This makes me very happy.
I'm not happy about dear old Uncle Barb. He will not be with us much longer. This is sad. He is a very old cat, and has nearly died so many times we have lost count. I can be all stoic when it comes to people deaths, even dearly loved people, but I cannot handle animal deaths. I've never seen Bambi. Couldn't do it.
Anyway.., it's extremely windy here tonight. I think we just may have to turn the heat on soon. I thought that I was being all money-saving and all that, but the REAL problem is that THGGM had to turn off the pilot when he flea-bombed the house and doesn't know how to relight it. Competent people from the furnace manufacturer are advising him. It's a boiler furnace, and he has never had to light it yet. So far, it hasn't dropped to colder than what I would have the thermostat set at, so all is good. BUT, I keep seeing these horrid weather reports that dare to mention snow. Must be prepared.
Since we were busy last week THGGM's birthday sort of passed by with little notice. So, I told him that he and I would celebrate on Sunday. My thoughts were of heading out to the lake shore, strolling through quaint towns, browsing antique shops, even a stop at a good hardware store could have made the cut. Dinner? Somewhere nice, I thought. Would you like to know what actually happened?
On Sunday he announced that he would just like to stay home. I interpreted this to mean 'stay home and relax', like in read, watch a movie, nap, that kind of thing. What HE meant by staying home to celebrate was to entirely move absolutely everything in our bedroom. This included ripping up carpet pads and a lot of other stuff that certainly sailed under the radar of what I would have thought of as 'celebratory'. It was work. Hard, sweaty work. But, it all looks good now.
Oh. And dinner? He wanted reheated leftover pizza.
None of this was MY idea of a celebration. But then, it wasn't MY birthday.