Now it's Spanky's turn

Our little man-fox Spanky (that's what Pete calls him) isn't feeling so well today, so I'm taking him to the vet. Pete and I were gone most of the day yesterday, and when we got home, we discovered he had puked in a few places around the house, and continued to puke on and off all night. Early this morning he was still puking, and although he hasn't puked since then, he isn't eating at all and looks miserable.

So now we'll "go see doctor," as I like to tell the animals when they don't know what's going on. They know what this phrase means, and I don't think Spanky is happy about it, but hopefully he'll get his tummy checked and will be feeling better soon.

And yeah, if you're keeping count, that's three pets in the last month that have been sick. The only one who's escaped this fate so far is Max. Hopefully he stays healthy, and this little curse of illness upon the Hoogestraat household ends with Spanky.

A nightly ritual

Me, Dollie, Spanky (by my belly), and Adora


This is how we end up every night, with me snuggling under a blanket and the dogs/cats piled around me, sleeping. The only one who didn't join us last night was Max, who was off prowling around in the basement somewhere, I'm sure. Sometimes we mix it up and they all lay on Pete, or we split them 50/50. It's hard to move with dogs and cats on you, but it's super cozy!

Super-duper busy mode

My hastily assembled work area in the kitchen, complete with coffee mug and unopened baby listening monitor on the table—I hope to open the monitor and actually use it, once hell-week is over.



I've been scarce for several days (and will continue to be for a few more) while I finish up a freelance project I'm working on. The deadline suddenly changed, and time to finish the work was suddenly in very short supply. So, I've been living and breathing this project for days now. I'll resurface in a few days and go back to blogging (and reading my favorite blogs).

Oh, and meanwhile, Pete is already recovering and in therapy for his knee. He'll be off for another week and a half, which is wonderful because I love hanging with him, but I'm going crazy from watching the Military Channel and cleaning up after him—but what else is new?

Anyhow, hope you all had a great holiday weekend...now back to the drawing board!



Spanky and Max, looking outside together during a moment of inter-species harmony

What makes this woman happy

What makes me happy?

FINALLY having my stove (Magic Chef 1000) hooked up and merrily cooking away. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be able to cook on a stove and bake in an oven, after almost two years of microwaving food and eating out. I almost wept when Pete and his friend Scottie finally installed the stove this past weekend.

And what a cool and impressive stove to cook with. I marvel that this thing was made in 1935 and is STILL running in excellent condition. I do have to calibrate the smaller oven because the knob seems to be a bit off, but everything else is great. I'm amazed that it has pilot lights and is so efficient, for being so old. The ovens have to be lit with a match, but that's not a big deal at all, and it's cool to watch the strange burners with central rings of gas light up. Of course, I immediately set about cooking not only dinner for the three of us (for which the stove performed flawlessly, as always), but...



I baked the first cookies of many in it as well. This was the first test cookie (chocolate chip), and it turned out great. The smaller oven needed a lot of extra time, but it did all right, leading me to discover the knob needs to be adjusted. But the larger oven is wonderful, and has been baking batch after batch of cookies for us. (For the record, Scottie ate the first cookie baked, which is only fair, since he helped us so much.) Matt had also played a key part in helping Pete to move the stove to its proper location (no small feat, since it weighs about 560 pounds), for which I treated Matt out to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant.


Anyhow, yes, I became a baking fiend, but couldn't help myself. These were gone in a matter of minutes, with everyone drooling over the cookies, including the dogs.



A few days later I also made more chocolate chip cookies, and a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies too.



Another wonderful thing is that Matt and Pete brought in my china cabinet from the garage, which has been in storage for the last few years too.



I immediately set about hauling out all my vintage teacups that have been piling up in my cabinets since we moved here. I was a bit surprised by how many I had (22, plus one more missing a saucer), but they were so pretty to look at, and I was glad to have them out of the company of the mugs and glasses and into the china cabinet, where they belong. Since then, I've bought two more at the local antique shop, bringing my collection (with saucers) to 24.



For the moment, they're simply resting in the hutch of the china cabinet. The hutch was missing its shelves and had a piece of loose moulding, but I got it at Crate and Barrel Outlet for less than 1/3 the price, so I don't mind.



Pete needs to build/find some shelves for the hutch so I can properly set up the teacups, as well as our small collection of wedding china.



Another sublime development in our house this weekend is the moving of our entertainment center into our living room from our garage. It, too, has been in storage for two years now, waiting for the floor to be finished in the dining room so it could be moved into the living room. Pete had forgotten I even got the center, but I reminded him about it and the fact that I got it for FREE. Not bad for a solid piece of oak furniture. I'm so happy to have places to store DVDs, books, etc., as well as a proper place for our tv (and NOT the buffet cart that belongs in the dining room).



I also got a nice rug for the sink area at Crate and Barrel Outlet, and the cats and dogs seem very fond of it. Max especially likes to rest here, which is funny, because he is so photogenic against the bright orange rug and vivid blue floor.



Yes, I'm still waiting for Pete to fetch our dining room set from Jeanette's basement, and yes, the walls are unfinished in the kitchen and dining room. But I don't care. I am so happy to have a little bit more normalcy in our house and our lives (I am SO sick of microwave soup/chili and pizza rolls!), and I couldn't be more content at the moment. Well, that is, until Pete gets one of his broken cars up and running and gets rid of the other two beaters. But that's a challenge for another day. For now, I'm enjoying the sweet taste of victory (and cookies) and appreciating the baby steps we've taken to make our house a home, before our baby arrives and is stepping out as well.

Dollie, come home

Our spunky and chunky little cat Dollie (the one in the banner for this blog) has run away, and I'm very sad about it. Last time I saw her was yesterday morning at 5:30 a.m., when the dogs dashed outside to chase her up into a tree. She later came down and ran off, and I haven't seen her since. She's very affectionate and friendly, so I worry someone's taken her in without checking to see who she belongs to (she's microchipped but lost her collar). And she's not an "outdoor" cat, but prefers to stay inside, except for the occasional trips out on the patio or up a nearby tree. I've been walking from open doors to open windows in the house, calling her over and over, with Max at my side, "helping" me look.



Anyhow, I hope she comes home soon. It's rainy and cold outside, and everyone seems lonely without her.

Dollie on drums

Pete's friend Jeff left his drum kit out in the dining room on Friday night (we usually store it in our weird little storage room). Dollie couldn't help herself and climbed on top, sniffing and accidentally clanging the cymbals. Max preferred to keep his distance, although he did seem intrigued.



Funny thing is, Jeff HATES cats, so Pete snapped some pix to show Jeff. At work on Monday, Pete said, "Hey man, we had a new drummer stand in for you the other day. Dude, this cat is pretty good, he's really got talent." Jeff didn't fall for it, and when Pete revealed the pictures, giggling like a madman, Jeff took it like a good sport.

Trapped in the spare room

Certain cats like to frolic inside/underneath the dining room floor when Pete is working on it and has his back turned, so these particular cats had to be properly contained. You'd think they were being sent to prison or something, the way they were looking so confused and hurt.

Sorry about the icky windows, I'm in the middle of renovations and cleaning and job hunting, and I have yet to shine them.

A kiss for luck

Max's profile photo from his shelter days



Last night, after I wrote the previous blog post boo-hooing about how crappy I felt, I was laying on the couch watching "Ever After" (hey, there wasn't much on). My cat Max made an appearance in the living room, which is not a common occurence. Even though I was surrounded by the Cat Patrol—a.k.a. Spanky and Adora—Max still managed to jump on the arm of the couch where I was resting my head. He purred and rubbed his head against my head, something he likes to do, especially when I'm doing laundry or bending over for some reason. After a few rubs he gently kissed me on the forehead, turned around, and walked away. It was so unexpected and cute that I had to smile, and my mood improved from then on.

Today I'm still not feeling so well, although not as bad as yesterday. But I feel a little rosier after getting a kiss for luck last night.

Me and my Dollie-Cat

Today I decided to use one of my favorite mugs as I uploaded more of my Hawaii pix to Flickr and worked on my freelance project that's due like super soon. What mug, you ask? Why, my Dollie mug, of course! I don't remember where it came from—I think someone gave it to us?—but as you can see, the cat on the mug looks just like Dollie's mug. Ho ho ho, I crack myself up!

Anyhow, of course Dollie happened to appear as I was getting my coffee. I don't like her going on the counters (I usually shoo her off) but I let it go so I could take her picture next to my mug. She seemed rather blasé about being famous enough to appear on a mug, but that's just her, she's very humble like that. And sorry about that crud on the counter—it's the result of living with a messy husband.



What?! Has Dollie taken up smoking too? I don't think I can live with another smoker!

I'm probably very biased, but although I have three cats (Max and Dollie, who live at my house, and Ginger, who lives with my parents), I think Dollie is the absolute cutest cat in the world. Although she is sweet, hyper, friendly, funny, and super affectionate, she is also quite a scrapper. She loves nothing more than climbing and exploring, especially the dirtiest and most dangerous spots in the house—which there are many, since this rental house is old and in ill repair. I will often go in the basement to do a load of laundry and call out to her, only to see her pop up from high above, chortling in her funny little cat talk, face peering out from some duct work, completely covered in spider webs but having a grand old time.

Minutes after the above pix were taken, I heard a commotion in our creepy basement. I went down there and peered below, between the wall by the stairs and a gap near the back of the refrigerator. I saw Dollie hanging from some sort of ventilation and shimmying along a brick column.



She eventually had to let herself fall from this spot, but she calmly walked away and reappeared a second later, ready for some Fancy Feast. You would never think that a cat that is as chubby and short limbed as Dollie would be the adventurer. Max the slender and elegant model cat prefers to lounge around, but Dollie is as hardy and curious as they come.

Okay, gushing over. Back to work...

Oh yeah, check out my first three albums of Hawaii pix here. I'm still writing captions for Day Three, so you might want to check back later to look at that album, but One and Two are ready for viewing. And Days Four through Thirteen are on their way this weekend.

Trapped!

The infamous bathroom


Max looking spooked

Poor Max was trapped in the bathroom all last night. I discovered this when I got up at 5:00 a.m. this morning and heard him crying from somewhere in the house. I traced the cries to the bathroom, where I discovered him waiting to come out and greet me. I petted him for a while and he purred his thanks, while Dollie sniffed him and looked baffled by his sudden appearance. As a consolation prize, I gave them both a meal of Fancy Feast, something that I normally reserve for the weekends. I think he forgot all about it once that food was in his belly.

Capturing the moment

I'm grateful that there are times when I'm able to grab my camera and squeeze off a few shots before the moment has passed. I don't necessarily get award-winning pix, but I do get some memorable shots that make me smile.



I happened to be passing by when I spotted Max sitting quietly in our dining room, gazing outside, bathed in sunlight. I whirled around, grabbed my Alpha, and took a few pix.



Max was startled by my presence and didn't stay still very long, perhaps a few seconds, and then moved on.



But I got a few pix out of the moment anyway. This sort of thing makes my day.

(P.S. Check out vivid, where I have posted more photos taken of Max, Dollie, and the crazy construction in my dining room.)

Snowy sick day

I'm starting to sound like a broken record, aren't I?

Today I felt horrible, with chills, fever, bad headache, swollen lymph glands, nausea, etc. So I called in and went back to bed for another five hours. That didn't seem to do too much, because right now I feel worse than I did when I got up. I'm hoping I'll feel better tomorrow and Thursday, because I hate being sick on holidays! I also missed Jen and Georgia, and strangely enough, I miss driving to and from work with Pete.

Anyhow, here are some pix from today, taken when I had a few bits of energy here and there (which wasn't often).


Snow, snow, and more snow! Our backyard


Max being goofy in the dining room (under construction)


Max peering outside


Max pleading with me—to go outside?


A view out front


Bored out of my skull watching VH1's 100 Greatest Songs of the 80s


Spanky looking solemn


Adora looking bored, just like me


Hot cider and tea with crackers is all I've managed to keep down so far


Watching exciting daytime television


Dollie frolicking in the dining room


Max thinking his private cat thoughts and looking outside

Max and Dollie were fascinated by the snow that snuck in the front door when Pete left for work this morning. I think they know it's too cold to play outside, but they're still restless and bored and curious about all that white stuff.

Well, it's back to the couch for me. I've got yet another episode of 100 Greatest waiting for me, and then it's on to the news and such. Dare I say I was so bored today I would have preferred to work? But I hear we ran out of work and people were sent home early, so I guess this is the better of the two options, with the 4-8 inches of snow we're getting today too.

Time to eat more saltines...

Happy Thoughts—Day 5

My furry children. Life would not be as happy without them, and I know this is true, because Pete and I lived without pets (except the fish) for the first few years we were together. And let me tell you, I was always lonely for the poke of a wet nose, the touch of a furry paw, and the warm and happy lick from a happy dog. They truly make us happy, and remind us of the simple things in life.

My poor Maxy-poo

Isn't this a lovely photo? This was taken last week. I happened to walk into our spare (storage) room looking for something, and I saw him dozing on these pillows next to some vivid fake pink roses. The sun was hitting him just right, and he looked very peaceful. I ran to get my iPhone, and when I came back he was sitting up, looking a little sleepy and bewildered. I'm sure he wasn't feeling all that great with his bad allergies and sores, but he's doing better and is already a bit perkier than he has been. You can see one of the red crusty/bloody spots under his chin in the photo. Poor thing.

Oh well, just wanted to share a picture of my Max.

S(l)ick journey, sick hubby, sick cat, sick treadmill

(Picture taken last winter near Savanna)

How was your weekend? I've been very absent from the blogosphere, and I miss it. But I've been out and about with the holidays and unable to blog until now. Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and ate lots of good things. I know I sure did! It was nice to be off for so long though. The time always seems to fly by so fast, whereas it drags while I'm at work. Isn't that the way it always is?

Pete (who is currently sick and dealing with severe nausea) and I got home late last night from our trip out to Savanna. It was rather hairy at times, and we saw several cars that had driven off the road. We even had a bit of trouble and slid off once, and then got stuck in some ruts a second time. Three and a half hours later—and rather late at that—we were all home safe and warm, a bit shaken but okay.


(Pete—and me—during healthier times)

I just got home from taking Max to the vet. He had developed a severe allergic reaction to some previous flea bites, and had to get a steroid shot, an antibiotic shot, and flea meds (to get rid of any lingering unwanted guests). Anyhow, he's back at home eating his food and hopefully feeling better by the minute.


(Max during healthier times)

Well, I'm off to run on my wacky treadmill. It's developed a habit of running at random speeds when I first start it, which is great fun. I get on thinking I'm going to do a nice slow pace, and then it suddenly revs up to light speed. I've been lucky that I haven't been thrown off it yet, but it's definitely scared me a few times. I discovered if I let it run for a few minutes that it eventually calms down and acts normally. I'm not sure how long I can maintain this band aid on the the problem before it totally wacks out on me and never behaves again. So, long story short, I'm going to go run while it's still working somewhat decently.


(The treadmill during healthier times)

Anyhow, that's where I'm headed now, then back to blogland goes I, after I attend to my poor honey and cook him some soup. See you around!

Schubert (flea) Dip

I always thought the guy on that EMF album cover looked like he was suffering from fleas....



Aaargh! There is a plague upon the Hoogestraat household, and it comes in the form of fleas. Yes, those icky, biting, jumping, nasty little bugs. I hate them. We first noticed it when we got back from Hawaii. The dogs seemed especially itchy and scratchy, and poor Adora's tummy was looking threadbare and raw. So we promptly gave them flea baths, sprayed down the furniture and bedding, and administered preventative drops.

The bathing process was not even remotely enjoyable for either dogs or humans. Spanky seemed to be used to it, because he stood fairly still and gave me a soulful look the whole time. Perhaps his previous owners had him frequently groomed? When I mistakenly fondled his empty man pouch, thinking it was one of several hair mats near his rump, he turned to me and stared. I apologized and let go of the droopy parcel.

Adora was no less thrilled, and she actually jumped out of the tub when we first started. I had to haul her back into the tub, both of us struggling and wet and covered in loose dog hair. She settled down after that and let me wash her, and Pete came upstairs to assist me. But she was pouty and mad the entire time, and would not look at either of us, but instead fixed her eyes on the shower faucet and sulked.

The same treatment was necessary for the cats a week later. I noticed Max was looking rather thin and lethargic, and upon closer inspection I saw tiny black bugs in his soft white fur. Yuck. So into the tub Max and Dollie both went, howling and hissing and not being very happy. It's interesting that when we bathed the cats they stood up and clung to the soap bar like little wet people. Max was the better behaved of the two, and he just kept looking back at Pete and me with sad green eyes. I think he actually welcomed the attention though, because he looked like he had a really bad case of fleas.

Dollie, on the other hand, was a screaming and clawing nightmare, which shocked us. We expected her to practially frolic in the water and do her usual goofy hijinks. But instead she was like a bar of wet, furry soap, slipping and sliding out of our grasp each time we tried to lather up the flea shampoo. Finally I think we just wore her out, and she submitted just as Max had, paws wrapped around the soap bar and a scowl on her face. She definitely did NOT enjoy the attention as he had. When her bath was over, her attitude change was like night and day. She became the sweet and playful Dollie once again, and she went about drying herself on the furniture and nonchalantly observing the dogs, who were captivated by this weird, damp creature before them.

Well, we thought we had everything wrapped up, and that we would only need to distribute the medicated drops once a month, which was easy enough. But oh, no! Adora has begun scratching and biting at herself again, and Spanky has recently been looking a little too itchy too. So now we have to go through this process all over again. Tonight we'll once again round up the dogs, sequester them in the bathroom, scrub them down while fighting to keep our patience (and footing), and release them to the living room, where they'll both immediately roll their soggy bodies around on our nice, clean couches. Yay. I only pray that we don't have to bathe the cats again. I don't think I have it in me to endure another session with a frantic, clawing bundle of moist anger.