Noodle sounds like a sweetie. Great name!

Glad you got the cats fed, Zen. And found a key.

Her name is Noodle and she is a snuggler.

A snuggler is always good!

Zen- what did you say to the locksmith?

So we went to the used record store to try and fill the holes in the Alan Parsons Project collection--found one, and the rest were compilations from the main albums, don't want compilations, want albums!--and there was a free promo CD thrown in.

Normally I ignore the promo CDs, but I figured, hey, free music. And I'm digging it. This Dawes person and My Morning Jacket aren't bad. The Kate Bush would be nice, if it weren't for the weird aural effects she's throwing in.

Then again, my car radio is on the local indie/alternative station these days. It's such a relief to know there's a whole lot of music out there that's not hip-hop/rap/soul stuff. Though I hear that nice Alicia Keyes has some good stuff.

Noodle is a great name for a kitten.

My folks when away once, just for a couple of days, and left the two dogs at home. My parents hired the kid across the street to look after them: he might have been 14 or so.

The very first day, he lost the key while walking across the street.

He did nothing. Didn't tell his parents, ask any other neighbors if they had a key, try to get into the house--nothing.

When my folks got home, the scene was indescribable: dog poop everywhere, and two dogs utterly beside themselves with hunger, thirst, and anxiety.

Ever since then, my mother's been really really uncomfortable with the idea of house-sitters. For good reason.

Good grief, Consuela, I would have lost my shit with that kid. And his parents.

Zen- what did you say to the locksmith?

I decided to go with the truth. Apparently I was visibly annoyed enough to lend credence to my tale. He went in the house with me to write out the invoice and saw me feeding and fussing over the cats, and the police haven't showed up at my door, so I guess he felt okay with it.

Oh my god, that story makes me clench in anxiety.

I got up earlyish this morning to get my fruit and vegetable boxes because it was 90F and I didn't want to let them sit. Granted, HOT out, but the fruit box seemed heavy as hell. No wonder: 6 Valencia oranges, 5 Packham pears, 5 Gala apples, 5 White Nectarines, 5 Red Beaut plums, 4 kiwi, 2 limes, 2 mangoes, a lemon, and giant fucking pineapple.

Yeah, I'm never going out of town again. At least not for more than a few days.

My niece used to catsit for me until she moved out of town. Then she referred me to her petsitting friend M., who has proven to be reliable and trustworthy. Without them I'd be a mess every time I went out of town. I can of course ask my neighbor to watch them, considering the many times I've watched her cats. Wish I trusted her judgment more.

I pay someone to come in who makes a business out of petsittng. I had to when Ozzie needed daily shots, and I got too used to not worrying about it to switch to anyone else.