Today I feel like tying up some loose ends, so I will. First, there’s the matter of what happens when a cat comes to visit. I had feared that it would be like what happens when I visit cats: my eyes itch and water and my throat gets scratchy and my nose runs and eventually I break out in bumps that tempt me to rip my own flesh off rather than endure them one minute more. Sometimes this stuff happens even if I take antihistamines. All this despite the fact that I had my own cats for years when I was growing up. Or maybe because of it; perhaps I used up my lifetime supply of cat dander tolerance. But I did not have to take even one allergy pill the whole time Tee was here, even though I couldn’t resist picking him up more than once. We kept him out of our bedroom and the laundry room where I had clothes not yet put away, but other than that he wandered freely and I felt fine.
I was also afraid of what would happen when Tee saw Bubba the guinea pig. In the wild, Tee’s distant relatives eat Bubba’s distant relatives, and I really didn’t want that kind of thing going on in my living room. Since Bubba’s cage is about six feet long, moving it wasn’t an attractive option, and since the living room is open to the front hall and the dining room, closing the room off wasn’t practical. Instead, I took the screen out of the front door and taped it to the open top of Bubba’s cage to provide some defense from attacks from above. Since the sides are made of hardware cloth with a grid small enough to keep curious cat paws out, they didn’t seem vulnerable. I figured I’d watch Tee very closely and if he made a move, I’d take Bubba away to his travel cage, which was safe in the basement (safe from cats, anyway, not so much safe from spiders, now that I think of it). When Tee first walked in the house, I figured his hunting senses would alert him to a tasty morsel close by, but he just strolled right by Bubba’s cage, not even looking up at the table it sits on. I kept an eye on him, thinking he might double back once he realized he missed an opportunity, but he didn’t. He showed no interest in Bubba at all, and Bubba didn’t seem to realize he was there. Well, okay then. If anything, Tee was afraid of Bubba; when Eli picked him up and tried to show him, Tee fought to get away, probably thinking “that’s one big scary mouse”.
The truck that I couldn’t get to move on Sunday is mobile once again. Mr. Karen took Monday off to hang out with Eli, who didn’t have to head back to Chicagoland right away, so they combined their brawn and brainpower and tried some home remedies on the situation. The truck stayed stuck, though, and it took a tow to the dealer and about $400 to get it on the road again. Frustrating, but brakes that work are kind of an important thing to have.
In other news, as the wonderful people who live with me or are on my notify list already know, the giant potholder made it in to one of the Hoffman Challenge traveling exhibits. I was definitely doing the happy dance when I got the letter with that news. My quilting compatriot Mel always had faith that it should get in; I’m still surprised it did. Now I’m thinking about taking a trip to go visit the potholder somewhere along the course of its year-long tour, as if I didn’t already have enough vacations planned in my head.
Not quite a year ago, I was lamenting not being a genius.
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