Alley Cats Feast

Cutting the Grass - with Scissors!

There's a movie where the kid has to cut the grass with scissors as punishment. I can understand the feeling of dismay trying to cut the blades of grass with those. Well, I don't have a lawn mower and my yard is approximately 12 feet by 30 feet. Should I spend money on a mower? I purchased a low-end string trimmer and it performs like a low-end thing so I've been using some cheap clippers, yes - glorified scissors, to trim the grass. When one is enduring this punishment, it is important to aim one's posterior away from the road. One invites rude comments about pea-shooters from passersby if not conscientious about that. I hope that nobody I know well sees me cutting the grass with scissors. It might just look pathetic, but it's my choice! It isn't like the grass is really all beautiful lawwwwwn grass - it's more ground cover - clover and weeds. There are long stems with pollen-covered ends on them and I whack those off. I trim by the sidewalk so it doesn't look all rangy and that's it! You know what - I don't actually care. Why should I have a perfectly manicured grassy green? My vinca is growing in front of the house but won't cover the ground for a year or so. It's all a work in progress.

Storms of Moberly

Tonight (and some today) we've had intermittent storms. There are outstanding storms here with noise and fury to be respected. I went outside to try to get some pictures of lightening but of course, we're in between storms and it's bedtime. When I visited the Oregon coast a few years ago, I was at a fair in Eugene, and there was a big clap of thunder. Everyone cheered and the drum circle beat louder in celebration. My friends explained to me that such a thing was not common. In Chicago, there were storms but I recall lake effect snow with more clarity. Growing up in Ohio, I remember sitting on the big front porch with Dad watching the rain and storms - we liked them. But honestly, these mid-Missouri storms are big and loud and what a storm should be if it's a storm to be the subject of prose. They earn that right. I know I'll be getting to sleep in a little while when the next one rolls in and I'll awaken a bit and feel good somehow. Right now I consider the electricity going out or lightening striking a tree but when I awaken to a storm, I don't overthink it - I just enjoy going back to sleep to the rumbling of thunder and the little flash-flashes of lightening.

Better Hose and Sweet Accessory

I wrote an open letter to Dee on my other blog apologizing for buying a cheap terrible hose. It probably would have been more appropriately placed here. Well, it was so awful I should have posted it at BOTH! Now, I have corrected the problem. I got a good quality hose. I have hooked it up and I have gotten a good nozzle. It was $10. I have never had such a nice nozzle. Since it sits in an area that can be seen from the road, I now fear someone will see this sweet nozzle and take it. I will probably remove it when not in use. I would be very bummed if some loser felt compelled to make off with my nozzle. I don't think the hose itself is at risk. It's cumbersome. After all that, Dee has been deployed and she won't have an opportunity to use the new hose and nozzle for a while. I will keep them safe for her visits and return.

I'm that kind of person. I admit my errors and try to make them right. Well usually. Dee, I apologize that I had to bring Margeaux home and now she destroys your flipflops and all things foam have Margeaux bites. She stays - but I'll donate to the flipflop replacement fund as needed.

Dog of Moberly

This is Daisy's summer look - tongue out and panting. This position is "lay" and is prompted by showing a closed hand as if harbouring a treat. There is always hope! Hand signals work well and look impressive. When she is good, people envy us and say how cool it is to have a dog that will do as commanded. They do not realize the hours over months that have gone into her basic obedience. Daisy has improved. She still gets wound up and has to be supervised in the house but she doesn't have potty accidents and she behaves pretty well. Margeaux is guilty of tempting her into bad behavior and Daisy has to be partially forgiven for succumbing to Margeaux's antics. Maybe I can get Dee to write about her swimming and befriending the ducks. When Dee gets back from her Army journey, I may be able to upload the video. It is incredible.

On the Other Side

The house on the other side is looking nice. I wasn't the first to take a picture of the flowers blooming next door. Lovely. My ivy is growing in the hanging baskets and the vinca is planted. It looks sparse but it is a weed and I bet that periwinkle will fill in within two years and we'll be trimming it back. The morning glories are growing out back and starting to climb. It feels like summer.

Clear at Last

It took multiple phone calls, picture taking, and an in-person visit to city hall but finally, the stinking junk is removed for the most part. As it rained this week, the boxes got moldier, broken-er, and smellier. Other people started dumping their garbage too. Why not? It looked like a dump!

I took Friday off and spent a good deal of time in the morning at city hall talking to the person responsible for code violations. Later in the day, when just enough had been taken that the loose garbage was blowing over to our property, I made another phone call to the property manager. She promised me that their maintenance would be over to complete the clean up. I used words like "unacceptable", "enough is enough", "stinking" and "unsanitary".

Finally, it is acceptable. It doesn't stink and while I wouldn't call it sanitary (there is still a broken jar of okra on the porch), it is no longer a dump site.

I got up at 3:30 a.m. today to take Dee to catch the MoEx (airport shuttle) from Columbia to St. Louis. She is in Washington state for two weeks of service. She says that the barracks are like WWII open bay barracks but that it seems okay. It's cold there and she'll have to get some sweat pants. There is some basic sushi at the base food place so she is happy with that. She plans to run 4 miles a day if possible. Meanwhile, I'll be exercising and dieting here. I'll be detailing it on my other blog for sure.

Not Just Cats

My life doesn't just include watching cats and so on. The past ten days (starting Memorial Day Weekend) has been busier than usual. Not just physically busy but mentally busy with many interruptions.

1. We still don't know what Dee is doing or when. She finally got orders for her two weeks of duty on the west coast. She leaves at 5 a.m. June 7. She will return late June 29. Then we aren't sure when she leaves for her deployment - it should be within another two weeks.

2. Margaret's family was here to wrap up her loose ends. They turned out to be looser than one would have imagined. She had not only a two story house and basement packed floor to ceiling with stuff but 6-9 sheds. I've heard different numbers. We were perfect ambassadors in all ways. We were helpful and cheerful as they piled the junk in the yard and spilled over to our yard. We helped them advertise their yard sale and we were nice - almost too nice. Others tried to help too - churchmembers hauled away truckloads of items and trash. It barely made a dent. When the family headed south, leftover items, garbage and boxes were stacked against our house and strewn over the rental property. We moved it back onto the other property and someone came and stacked it neatly, as if to take it away. BUT, so far no one has taken it away. It smells bad, has flies buzzing all around and is the end of a truly awful movie!

I have tried to capture some of the horror but alas, smell-ivision doesn't exist! We now wish we had taken pictures of the sale - it looked almost the same - ONLY MESSIER!

The report from a semi-reliable source is that the family didn't sell the items that they considered treasures. They fought over them and divided them amongst themselves, locking them behind closed doors to keep others from stealing the precious objects. The fact of the matter is - it was all JUNK. Dirty, old junk collected from dumpsters and yards. Dirty old junk that sat in a house, piled to the ceiling, piled in the basement, piled in sheds. Their precious objects - JUNK. The items in the yard sale - JUNK. The aftermath - JUNK. They even stripped the car. They gave away many cans of food - some swollen and rusted. We joked that Margaret was making her own bo-tox and was really 170 years old and that she was planning germ warfare as a defense in the impending end-times.

One thing the family wouldn't part with was Margaret's home-canned items. I know what she canned. Old, half-rotten fruit and vegetables she got from area dumpsters that laid in boxes half on our property, stinking until she took them inside. They were VERY careful to put those aside, sternly affirming, "Momma canned that food for us. We're taking it with us." Unbelievable. Tales were told later by non-family members (friends?) that some of the jars were more than ten years old. There is a story of Margaret eating food from these jars and sharing it with Melissa, her developmentally disabled daughter, and them both getting sick - Melissa not able to make it to the bathroom and so on.

We felt for Melissa and hope she'll be okay. Of course, they left behind her medicine to prevent a blood clot while she heals from the accident and surgery so we don't feel real good about all of it. We have a walk-in shower and they brought her over in a wheelchair to bathe her once last week. We sent her off with a copy of The Adventures of Milo and Otis and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (which she loves). They rented a truck and a trailer but also drove a car that had a DVD player. We tried to be genuinely nice and patient with all involved but admit to hiding in the house and coming and going carefully as the drama continued.

They left at 2:30 a.m. Thursday night and piled boxes and trash against our house in a final aggravating action. Dee was awake at 4:30 Friday and urged me out the door at 5:00 to inspect and help move all the items onto the driveway adjacent to our property. Puhleez! It was clear a few items got left because they simply didn't fit into the big truck.

The mess, the intrusion, the stories, the shouting, the aftermath - all of this has truly disrupted our lives. We live quietly in our house. It's peaceful and not too cluttered. Everyone struggles with clutter. For Margaret, it was a sickness - a sickness that evidently spread to her sister and children. The only one who didn't seem to share the disease was her namesake who is 22 years old and was tough throughout the whole thing, managing the yard sale and enduring all the sorting through the junk piles and squabbling.

And now, it really is over, except for the remaining garbage which the landlord must now manage. Margaret has truly left the building.