continuing the saga of chita

Sometimes, when she is whiny and complaining and making noise all over the house, she says "Moo" instead of "Meow".

Z will walk around the house exclaiming, in a high-pitched voice, "Moo! Moo!"

Sports practices have begun at the school across the street, meaning there are often people parked in front of our house. (And in our driveway, which is annoying as all get-out. Who parks in a stranger's driveway? Yesterday Z walked out our front door and took a photograph of someone who had parked across our driveway. They were sitting in the car reading the newspaper. They had initially parked in front of the fire hydrant next door, but when they saw it, they pulled forward to sit across my driveway. What is that shit? If the fire company needs the hydrant, you will hear the sirens. If I need my driveway, I am going to have to go out there and ask you to move, and I have had people, not understanding that I had a legitimate right to this driveway, refuse to move. Fuck you! Park in front of the hydrant and sit there! Do not park in front of my driveway and sit there! That is so fucking rude! So Z took a photo and they saw him and drove away, probably all paranoid or something. But no, dude. We're not calling the cops. We're just blogging about how fucking rude you are. Edit: Z's blog is currently Very NSFW if you scroll down AT ALL. I forgot. Sorry!)

Anyway, it just means that we now have way more of an audience for our hijinks than usual. One of these days I will remember that walking around one's house in the nude with the front door standing wide open for ventilation is probably a poor idea. One of these days, one of those kids is going to look up from being a jackass in the street or throwing trash on my lawn, and is going to notice that there is a large naked woman standing in the front room paying no attention to him.
But it's been three years-- four now?-- and nobody has so far, so I just keep forgetting.

(no subject)

One of the ingredients on the current can of Chita's cat food is "Animal Liver."


...

As opposed to vegetable liver?
...

In other news we finally turned off the goddamn ringer on our house phone. It rang three times this afternoon, went to the machine twice, and finally the third time Z picked it up. Nobody was there; it was a broken auto-dialer.

We usually get one or two phone calls a day.
Maybe one of these, every two or three weeks, is actually a call for us.

We still have a phone plugged in in the office. I'm considering unplugging that, too, so that the only notification we'll have of someone calling us is the answering machine going off. Because we don't pick up anymore. Three times out of five, it's an autodialer or a fax machine. The other two, it's either someone calling for the business that last used this number five years ago, or someone trying to call the Better Business Bureau and not understanding that on a land-line, you've got to dial 1 before the 800 part. (Our local exchange is 877, which is the most recently-added substitute for 800.)