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I came home last night to another person's house. I was stunned that my key worked in the door. I was at work late and Dad had called to tell me he had "stopped by" and let out Sarah so I didn't have to rush home. But I came home to a palace! My front walk and driveway and sidewalk had all been edged and Dad had pressure washed my house. Now this may not seem like a huge feat, but my house was seriously in need of both these home owner tasks. My front sidewalk was more of a twisted path through weeds which I had managed to keep the same height as the rest of the lawn, thanks to my lawn mower, but still not removed. And my otherwise light yellow siding was very very green with mildew and slime. My house was about to sprout legs and walk off its foundation to find a better owner who took care of it the way it deserved. Hooray Dad! I actually stood in my front yard with a miner's head lamp on my head wandering around the house marvelling at its beauty.

Dad even moved my cat house to a new location and put it up on a little kitty foundation to try to tempt the cat to use it and stay out of the rain. I doubt she will ever set foot in it, but perhaps a wandering squirrel will find shelter from the elements for a night.

Rich and I went on a long bike ride this weekend and browsed for roofs and porches that would look good on my house. I think I've found a nice color roof to compliment my freshly cleaned siding and can only hope the porch would be simple enough to make happen sooner rather than later.

Oh and in other home owner news, I am now the proud owner of a 90 gallon rolling recycling bin! We used to have those blue tubs for recycling and they would only take ... oh ... two types of recycled items but now the sky's the limit, baby! Well, more like everything but Styrofoam is the limit. But all the same, I'm looking forward to having even less trash on a weekly basis and more recycling to put curbside. Now I just have to find a place to store the new bright blue bin on wheels.

Meow! No, you can't go out.

I'm having a nightly discussion about how she can't go outside until her butt heals. Saturday night, I called for her twice and she wouldn't come inside. Rich called for her and she came in at his request. As she hopped on the bed he exclaimed "what happened to her butt?!". My black goddess had gotten into some cat fight and cut a hole in her butt just below her tail. As if she had two assholes.

So we wrapped her in a towel and diagnosed the situation. And we then drove her to the emergency vet at 12:15am. Did I mention their fees go up to $65 for a visit after midnight? As promised by the nurse, they were empty at that hour (things must not pick up until after the kitty bars close). We were home again, $200 poorer and with a kitten high on morphine. Her eyes were like a raccoon's. She was staggering around like a stoner kitty. We had to shut her up in the bedroom with us so she wouldn't fall down the stairs.

So now we have this same chat every evening over her wet food with ground up antibiotics. Rich is convinced that she only does this to get the wet food. But all is well in the world.