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.
...that does not sound very local to Chicago! But it does sound yummy.
The oldest kid got into medical school and changed his name to something entirely different--first and last--because he no longer wanted to share his parents' name. The oldest daughter has never been stable, and the youngest kid was an alcoholic at 15. So
Wow, that sounds super messy, how awful.
Yikes, these bad pet-sitting stories are making me clutch my pets in relief, since we JUST got in the door from vacation maybe half an hour ago. We are so lucky to have a good friend who stays here and takes care of the pets. We pay him the going rate and generally also bring him a silly souvenir.
And the pets are all well and exceedingly happy to see us, which is such a nice way to be greeted.
I'm fighting the first migraine I've had in a couple of months, so I am going to drug up and go to bed. SO glad to be home!
...that does not sound very local to Chicago!
Some of the fruit is local. Some of it is organic and free trade from elsewhere.
I am a kick-ass pet sitter, and my friends are, too.
I did have to break in once, when I was given a key that didn't work. I just...appropriated a neighbor's ladder, popped up to the second floor and found an unlocked window and sidled in.
Did it all in brad daylight, no sneaking, no big.
The pet sitter stories are freaking me out a bit, completely unnecessarily. My brother is coming by to take care of the cats. I KNOW I can trust him. But still... poor kitties! Every time I leave my Burrell alone for a few days I fear she feels abandoned.
I have three terrific neighbors who watch my cat when I travel. They're so terrific I'm going away on vacation with all of them in October.
Oops.
I'm weirdly up and at 'em early this morning, am planning on going to church at 11, but am considering going to get my nails done first. Of course I'm not 100% sure of the name of the place I go, so I can't figure out how to find their hours. I kind of think they do open at 9, though. Hmmm.
....yeah, not til 10 on Sundays. Ah well.
Well damn. That's no good.
I'm making my usual 4th of July cake. But this time with chocolate instead of white cake. Same icing though. Today will be well above 100 so I may as well bake before it gets unbearable.
Bartleby has only been in the care of 3 other people in his 9 years with me.
One guy spent the night here and I called pretty much every two hours. "We're drinking beers, sitting on the couch, eating pizza (a no no) and scratching ourselves. What do you think we're doing?" (1 night)
One woman loves him so much, she sends photos of him to her kids and then they send emails asking after him. They even have a photo of him on their mantle! (a total of 6 nights over 3 years)
And then there is J&M, who took him when I was sick. He loves them, and their Greyhound so much, I'm pretty certain he would gladly throw me over for them at the drop of a hat. (13 nights)
My neighbor, how constantly asked me to let in contractors, feed her neglected cats, and hang out waiting for deliveries because "Well, you are home aren't you?" couldn't fuss herself to walk one half of one block to let Bartleby out in the yard when I was trapped on a closed road. He had been alone for 17 hours, but 'it wasn't an emergency.'
Yeah. I don't trust anyone, except the ones above. If I'd had the experience with the teen sitter above, no lie, violence would have ensued.
Then again, I'm pretty neurotic.
Grand total of nights Bartleby and I have been apart, 20 out of 3469.
I'm skipping the 25th reunion of the Great Peace March in August because I can't take him. That, and the event seems to be fraught with discomforts I would not enjoy, but still. Wither I go, he goest.
