I woke up at 7:00 and then an hour and 20 minutes just flew by, and I don’t even know how. I mean, I know what I just did: animal care. I’m a regular farm girl, if cats and one fey dog counted as farm animals. I don’t know why two small kittens are so much work, but man, they are. Also, in case you wanted my opinion on the matter, I do not care for people calling kittens “smol.”
The holiday weekend is over and I, for one, am glad. I never have anything to do on holidays even when there isn’t a plague, and it’s relatively depressing. Although I do have to say one thing. Well, I mean, I don’t have to say anything. I could remain silent as the grave. But what a dull blog that would be. I could call it Silent June, and every day there’d be a blank page. Tune in tomorrow!
Nevertheless Nessman, I’m going to say one thing. When I first moved in here, the guy who used to own this house also owned the house next door. I think he was sort of trying to control who lived around him, and I kind of can’t blame him now that I’ve been here 2 years and seen what life has to offer over here in the milltown.
The point is he had a lovely woman living next door who was tidy and pleasant and a delight. I remember the former owner saying, “Now, she is a black lady” and I always adore sentences like that. As I recall I just stared at that message, my face a blank, the sentence hovering there like a germ. What the hell kind of thing is that to say?
Her name was CeeCee and it probably still is. However the guy sold the house, and I was worried he’d do that. And then I was all Oh, lort. Who the hell gonna move in next door?
It turned out to be a woman maybe 10 years younger than me who has two almost-grown sons who come and go. She had one cattle dog who is a DOLLY FACE DOLL DOLL (oh, but “smol” offends me) and the fence between us was this bendy wire thing, and that is when I said, “I gotta get a real fence” and here I am paying back my mother two dollars at a time for a tall wooden fence that I am glad I have, because the son got a pitty pit bull puppy snickerdoodley-doo (Oh, but smol) and OH MY GOD I loved that puppy so bad. She is fawn-colored and SHE IS LOVELY and stocky and huge. I remember the day I looked back there and saw her. Oh, with the squeeing.
She is also a barker, a FawnBob Barker, and she taught that angel of a cattle dog to bark, and any time I left my yard to, say, go to the trash can or use the hose, if they were out they’d barkbarkcalltheircongressmenbark.
So I devised a plan, and that was to always have treats on me so that when I saw them I’d pop a treat in their barky mouths. (I’d asked the woman next door if that was okay.)
So now Cinnamon (the pit) and the other one whose name I don’t know (the cattle dog) LIVE for my appearances, and sometimes I’ll be at my sink, I’ll be at my disposal
and I’ll see them just staring over at my part of the house. “Every time I let them out they run right for your side of the fence, looking for you,” the woman next door tells me.
So we got a thing going on, me and Mrs., Mrs. Bones, over there.
The point is, on July 4 I was making chicken, as I am suddenly wont to do now that I get HelloFresh, and I saw Cinnamon and Other looking my way.
I went out there with treats (another neighbor drives a truck, and I am sorry to tell you that anything he trucks he maybe …doesn’t always deliver 100% of, and it is just my luck that he transports dog treats, and while I claim to be morally opposed to stealing, let’s just say I am rich in dog treats right now) and my neighbor was grilling out, and while she and I always stay six feet apart we often find ourselves taking over the fence like it’s 1950, except now it’s 1950 with distance, and anyway, we had a distant drink together on July 4, so in a word, or 700 of them, you could say I sort of celebrated the 4th.
Wow, that was a lot of words I hadn’t planned on saying. I like her, the woman next door. She also has at least one cat, who stares balefully out at Milhous and me each week during ride-the-trash-can time. He’s black and white but not a tuxedo. More like a splotchy black and white. I think he finds us appalling.
Anyway that’s all I have to say to you, and I suppose I should throw in a photo of this long endless weekend of staying in while other people go to beaches and lakes and barbecues and oh, you’re welcome! Yeah, I’ll just stay here the rest of my fucking life so you can have fun. No problem.
There. There’s a nice shot of The Needy Committee, now with Bunny!
Don’t let me forget to tell you that I got myself a bush trimmer for my birthday, and the first person to make some sort of 7th-grade joke about that gets banned for eternity, like that wingnut Kelly who keeps getting new names so she can leave mean comments. Way to have a real life, Wingnut Kelly. Say, why don’t you attend a crowded party? It’s all the rage.