July 21, 2009

  • Drat. It's been a week again! Where does the time go?

    Let me see. The kittens continue to lose their significant advantage of being kittens and growing. Most annoying of them. If I wanted grown cats I'd have gotten 'em.

    They play and play and play, though admittedly a fair chunk of time is given over to napping.

    Dan and Sarah have come by:

    On Sunday Alex, Beth and the girls came to the 11 o'clock service at CCBC, then here to help prepare for the party at 4 p.m. That was the most discombobulated party I've ever given. Hadn't even begun stuffing the eggs when guests began arriving. Not a lot of family could come, what with one thing or another, but that's a good thing about having such a large family...doesn't take many to make a decent crowd! ;^)

    Those are just a couple of pix I liked of the Ivy girls, and here's one of Alex being a goof with Magellan:

    It surprised everyone how much Bridgette and Faith look alike!

    I didn't do anything terribly fancy for food. There were the aforementioned stuffed eggs, plus a veggies platter with a really wonderful Archer Farms cream cheese dip or whatever, plus a couple of pork tenderloins (Apple Bourbon and a Pomegranate-Basil) sliced and served with those Hawaiian rolls, potato salad, and a red velvet cake (also from Target) plus most of a from-the-freezer-case chocolate silk pie.

    Tell you what, I was shown up as a bad, bad Gran. I'd asked all the adults their preference as to dessert and served them when I glanced down and saw Faith standing stock still, staring up at me with the most singularly plaintive expression I've ever seen on anyone's face. "What about ME?" was written all over her, causing an outcry from most everyone. ("Poor little thing!" "Can't Faith have some dessert?")

    I scooped her up and asked which she wanted, cake or pie. Without hesitation and with a great deal of enthusiasm she pointed to her choice. "Pie!"

    She got her pie, and dug right in, the poppet.

    Kenny has been working and working, bless him. The age of stuff around here is tripping him up, as lots of projects are taking more time than expected. Case in point was a bat (as in the critter) ceiling fan pull I'd gotten off eBay. The chain had come off years ago from the fan in the living room and Don had tied a string to something inside the casing. Not elegant, but hey....it worked.

    How hard could it be for a licensed apprentice electrician to replace the string with a chain, right?

    It morphed into a 2-3 hour ordeal for him....including his being shocked by a "neutral" wire that turned out to be on an entirely separate fuse....as the 30 year old innards repeatedly broke as soon as he touched them. At one point he had managed to get it all put together only the fan wouldn't turn on. He eventually located the problem and fixed it (it works fine, and I love the bat), but it wound up chewing up the best part of the afternoon on Friday.

    This is how it's been for him time and time again around here. If it's not the age of the wiring or wallpaper or whatever, it's Don's, um, creative electrical work. Him not being here to explain how he did something or other, Kenny's had to gingerly try to figure it out the hard way. (I can readily imagine Don pointing out to whoever's around him now that hey, it may have been unorthodox but it worked, didn't it? Don was very results-oriented...if it worked, it was fine. The plumbers and electricians who have come along behind him over the years haven't seemed to feel exactly the same way about his unique way of accomplishing stuff. Picky, picky. )

    Anyway, it's been rather embarrassing how seemingly minor tasks I've asked Kenny to do have given him fits. He's always very nice about it, along with adamant about getting them done. So far he's managed to overcome every obstacle this house has thrown at him.

    It's going to be highly amusing to have Don and Kenny meet in glory someday. Hope I get to be there!

    On another topic, Eisenhower (the white kitten) has turned out to be very badly named. A far more appropriate name would be Dracula, the wretched little ear-sucker. He's actually drawn blood on both my ear lobes! The actual sucking isn't so bad, it's those blasted needle-sharp claws he refuses to sheath. He does the kneading thing on my ear, face and neck and those claws hurt. If he can't reach my ears ("NO EARS! Leave my ears ALONE!"), he'll settle for sucking on my neck.

    Kitty hickies. Lovely.  

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