Shortly after updating my Facebook status the other day to include some whining about people's lack of updating, I realized I am equally, if not more so, guilty. And thus, an entry is born.

My excuses for neglecting the blogging include, but are not limited to, being extraordinarily busy with work, being terrified of inserting my memory card into my computer since it may be tainted with The Virus, and not really having a whole lot of excitement to share. Aside from The Virus, the summer has been fairly uneventful. The few things we did would have been made more exciting with photos, but you see, my updating problem is cyclical. I suppose as a writer I should be able to turn the mundane and ordinary into entertaining prose. The following five things exist in our daily life, are incredibly unspectacular, and include photos from various locations besides my memory card.

Anais and his poor toileting habits

Our eldest cat is a lovable fellow. As a matter of fact, right now he's sleeping on the chair in front of my desk, circled up like a hefty rollie-poly bug. He puts his little paw over his eyes to block out the light when he wants to sleep deeply. Dave has taught him tricks like standing on two feet when he is requesting a treat. He's full of love and affection, and all too obviously, a ton of poo.

Since he was just a wee kitten, he has shown his displeasure in being left alone by leaving tiny fecal gifts upon the carpet. When I lived alone with him and I'd spend Saturday night away, I'd return on Sunday to a tiny pile on my fluffy hot pink bathroom rug. The rug, mind you, that was directly in front of his litter box. Now, the carpet of his choice is hardly fluffy and pink, but it is still directly in front of his litter box. We've tried shampooing the carpet, reasoning maybe it was the smell of a previous cat. (It may have been. He never, ever did this during the six months he lived alone with Dave, and there had been no previous cats in that apartment. Which makes me wonder, maybe it's me Anais is unhappy with.) Rest assured, there is nothing physically wrong with him. These poor bathroom habits are a thing of spite and wit. He never leaves a permanent mess like many cats do in order to mark their territory, and he takes extraordinary pleasure in the inconvenience he creates. In the evening when Dave cleans up the offending little piles, Anais will come from anywhere in the house, regardless of any activity he was previously engaged in (sleeping) and sit and watch Dave clean up his mess. It's as if to say "That's right human. You may think you're in charge, but it's just a matter of time."


"There are entirely too many photos of me on the Internet."


"I bear the weight of the world upon these shoulders."

Henri and her one year anniversary

It's hard to believe, but it's been one year since Henri decided she was going to move in with us. Some days it feels like she's been here much longer than a year, and other days it seems as if just yesterday she was a basket case. (It's all relative, I guess.) I'm regularly intrigued by how our little human/animal family came together. One minute Dave was insisting he didn't want to own a house, and the next minute the four of us were lying in the basement watching Frasier refuns. Well, three of us were. Henri usually spends all of her time staring out the basement window, occasionally breaking to scream at us. Nonetheless, she has come a long way. We often remind ourselves when our house breaks, the reason we ended up here was because of Henri. Most days, that's a good thing.

A trip to the Dells

Hey! We went to the Ocean City of the Midwest. I wish I could say more good things about it, but, as the Ocean City of the Midwest, the thrill sort of wears off after adolescence. We took no pictures (as is par for the course) and we were forced to eat waffles and bacon with total strangers. But Dave was involved in a stage performance that included lewd jokes and we had Rachel Ray's favorite grilled cheese sandwich. What more could a boy ask of his 31st birthday?


                                  Well. Here's an indication of what we were in store for.

Our broken garbage disposal

About a month ago, while doing dishes, I looked down to see water dripping on my feet. I'm generally a sloppy dish-doer, so I didn't think much of it. Sensing though that something was a bit askew, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink, flooding the kitchen and exposing my now barely-hanging-from-the-drain garbage disposal. After an excruciating evening of twisting and turning bolts, and an equally excruciating afternoon that left my dad covered in a rash, the disposal was propped up by a brick, appearing to be relatively less broken. Until I did dishes and flooded the kitchen again. Needless to say, a new garbage disposal is on its way.

A mundane and unappealing dinner menu

Jeez I'm tired of making dinner. I did manage to pull off some stellar stuffed shells Tuesday night, and more shrimp caesar is on the menu in the coming days. I'm nearly looking forward to some alternate food choices for autumn. From the looks of it, there are 18 million butternut squash growing in the garden, so that will be a new option. When it gets right down to it though, I'm going to miss peaches and berries, so I'll be complaining before too long about the equally mundane fall options. At least it will be chili season again soon.

That's it. Our late summer in a nutshell. A water-logged, feline-driven nutshell.