"I'm done with housing"

I didn't sleep well last night, something made a loud bang in the house in the middle of the night and I was not able to figure it out.  Then there was the barking, apparently a loose dog went after something it couldn't catch (probably Cleo), a lot of vicious barking near the house for some period of time.  Ron and I were terrified it was a new neighbor, or a new pet from a current neighbor.  Let's hope not.  I believe it was a stray, it only did it the one time and a dog as vicious as that would go all night if it was penned up next to our house.

We got up, got ready, went to work.  I had a savage headache so I took an Excedrin.  We went to work, there was another client on board.  She was going to the "disability review" office for Social Security.  Basically they examine your case to see if you are "disabled" by their standards, it is VERY hard to qualify these days.  I don't think she was going to make it.

Then we got dropped at work.  Ron almost fell, getting in his wheelchair, exciting times.  We went in, it was dead.

I talked to Ron and told him he only has two subjects of conversation now: "The end of the world" and "I am angry at God".  One feeds into the other seamlessly.  I said he should work on more variety in his conversation.  He didn't say anything then but did indicate later he had heard me. 

Ron was just having, as he put it, a "Duh! Brain day" (that would have been a good title) so I had to stand over him and help him do everything - twice as long as doing it myself but thou shalt not emasculate.  We got all that done, I had a little time to do my work, we left.  It was miserably hot, sunny, and humid.  Happily our ride was already waiting on us.

And it was a straight ride home.  The neighbor (#2) was in front of our yard again.  They had a truck from a private animal control service.  I worried about Cleo but she is a smart girl and would have run.  I got Ron in the house, he started drinking.  I wasn't happy with that on top of whatever the hell this morning was (dementia?  He was really out of it).  I took some trash out and encountered the landlady.

We had a pretty long conversation, basically her telling me what has been doing on with the rental.  She said the last tenants trashed it, just like the previous ones did.

"I'm done with housing!" she exclaimed.  That explained a lot to me, someone getting a "free" house is not going to respect it, or the neighbors.  They would also be harder to evict.

Someone had suggested she might be renting to section 8 tenants.  They were right.  But she says she has a nice, quality, tenant lined up so we will see.  I did mention I had "one cat outside, but we are trying to get her in the house".  I did think that was fair to let her know.

She didn't much like Bubba but he was a black cat.  How can a black person hate a black cat?  That's, like, yourself.  I don't get that.  But I am not black.

I mentioned I had tried 2 times to get the problem tree cut down.  Only in Houston do you have a weed tree.  She said she would love to have her guy cut it down.  I agreed, so the fence issue is totally resolved.  We each get a new fence and she doesn't have to worry about the tree, which, to be honest, has caused some problems on her property.  I am just as happy to get rid of it.  Sorry, tree.

And I lived in California!  If I could plant any tree I would probably do a pine tree.  I love the way they smell, but they are brittle and break easily.  I still like them, though.  I am a huge fan of the ash tree out front as well.

So, we left on very good terms with all the problems solved.  I feel like she wants the same thing we do, a nice, quiet, respectful soul.

I went in the house, Ron was totally soaked, and hungry.  I heated up something for him.  He needs more TV dinners, though.  He is down to just burritos now.

He said he could get himself to bed, and he did.  Amazingly.

I have a bedside table.  I have a box on the table with various items, a flashlight, my glasses (when not worn), etc.  It balances on the bedside table.  Not a problem.

But I rearranged my bedroom a few months back.  I have my dresser in the closet because I have a small bedroom, just enough room for a queen bed and a little room around it, but the dresser had to go in the closet.  It fits fine in there.  Had it there for 15 years, no issues.

But.

Torbie.

I had a box on the floor, then a basket of clothes on top.  Torbie used to jump on the box, on top of the basket, top of the dresser, and then top shelf of the closet.  I have had a couple cats like to hang out up there.

But I moved the box and the basket falls over whenever she tries to jump (she has tried, a few times).  I tried to rig something up but nothing worked for her.  Torbie has taken to jumping from my bed to the bedside table, to a stack of boxes in the closet, and then top shelf.

But, coming down, she landed smack in the middle of my box, with my glasses in it.  A huge CRASH, items flying everywhere, and I am sure I have mentioned I am utterly BLIND without my glasses?   Happily I got a BOGO at the optician and had a spare pair of glasses close at hand.  I took those out and picked all over the floor, picking up my items (didn't know I had so many) and putting them back in the box, then finally found the glasses.

Clearly I will need to find another way to store my glasses.  That could have gone very badly if I didn't have the extra pair.  Which is why you always get the extra pair.  Or keep your old ones (I did both).  Something because it sucks being blind and I am the only eyes in this house.

I'll figure out something  I took a nap with Torbie.  Biscuit has developed a very bad habit of sleeping on the floor where I put my feet.  I worry one day I am going to forget about him and 200 pounds of meat is going to come down on him.

I slept pretty well for a while, headache sort of came back but not as bad.  I drank a cold diet soda, that helped.

Spotty came out from under my chair, meowing.  He is adorable.  I found his mother in the garage, lying on the concrete, 3 beds scattered around her.  She's killing me!  I feel so terrible every time I see her like that.

Baby Girl is sleeping with Ron, who is sleeping.  Ron gave me some money "an advance (on my pay)"  I will call the dentist tomorrow and set up an appointment, I have enough to cover the probable cost of the filling and cab fare.

I have no idea what I am doing for dinner.  Or tomorrow, for that matter.  Work is pretty dead so I am not worried about going in to stock.  Mama cat is doing well.

I will try to phrase this delicately, the probiotics still have some work to do.  But she is happy enough to eat them so I will keep that up.  I don't mind, I just want her healthy.

But she has had a lot of dietary upset the last month, eating garbage to eating Meow Mix kitten to eating Royal Canin Baby Cat to eating wet food... having her uterus out on top of that and two vet visits, that's a lot.  Torbie was like this when I got her so I am not worried.  Torbie resolved, so will Mama cat.  It's all going in the box so I am OK with that end.

And I have probably said too much.  That's it for now.