Still a Grumpy Mess

I still have no furniture. Everything is still in boxes that are stacked all over the house.

Before I can empty at least 4 of the boxes back into my antique bookcase, it needs to be moved. That takes 3 men. This is a really busy time of the year on a farm, it's hard to find 3 guys at once, they're all out working really hard.

Last week they were kind enough to squeeze in some outdoor work for me. The "killer" storm that was supposed to hit California wasn't near as bad as advertised but we did get about 10 minutes of very brisk wind. The sort that moans and whistles just outside the rattling windows. That knocked down a few trees here in Sloughhouse and took the entire top off the old Signorotti hop kiln, a local landmark.

Three of the trees were on my property. Two fell into the horse pasture. They rested on the fence but didn't break it. Tightened it nicely, in fact. The other was half a tree in the yard. It fell right next to my ancient Chevy truck. Nothing here was damaged. I have a tree service come every other year to take out and trim problem trees. There's still plenty for them to work on. But the guys from Davis Ranch came over with a tractor, a trailer, and a couple of chain saws and made quick work and a stack of firewood.

An observation: the "killer" wind didn't even blow the tarp off the bale of hay next to the fence. Nor did it blow the blooming tulips over. I don't think it reached the ground. Can wind do that? Just stay about 20 feet up in the air?

I'm hoping for some time soon to just be able to go through the boxes and get the house back in order. I hate disorder, it makes me crazy. Maybe I haven't cleaned up the mess just so I can blame disorder on my craziness?

The cats also need to have order restored. Biscuit just lays in his bed, temporarily on top of the dining room table. He's wise, he knows that's a safe place.

He would prefer to sleep on furniture. I loaned the wheelchair to a friend last month. When she returned it, I left it in the living room to use as a chair. Biscuit tried to make it work for him.

It didn't work for me, either. The floor is high in the middle and low on the edges, so the wheelchair rolls down into the wall. 

Gollie doesn't mind all the chaos so much. It gives her new places to hide. But she's been in this house for 13 years and wants her familiar hidey holes back, too.

Wesley takes advantage of chaos to make more messes. He pulls things out of the boxes and uses them for toys. 

To add to the catfusion around here, I'm having to take all the cats in to a new vet this week. Today is Biscuit's appointment. The mangy little black cat that was hanging out on the porch this past year got sick and had to be euthanized. I had just managed to start petting it, it was really a sweet little girl. Except I found out at the vet's it was a boy, and that it was in the last stages of feline leukemia.

I'm pretty sure Wes and Gollie have been vaccinated for that. But I can't find the box their papers are in, and their old vet has retired. I doubt Biscuit was ever vaccinated for anything until he was neutered at SPCA last fall. Biscuit spent time on the front porch eating out of the same bowl as "Little Girl," so I need to have him tested. If he's negative, the inside cats should be safe. He shares feed and water bowls with them in the house. If not, I'll need to take the others in, too.

I'd like to say thank you to the lowlife butthead who dumped a sick cat out in the country. Someday I'll get to catch someone doing that and they will suffer the wrath built up by years of others committing the same sin.

Still a grumpy mess.