three down

Sometimes it seems like yesterday that our hallways and bedrooms were filled with boxes, but Sunday marked three years that we’ve been in our house. I get frustrated sometimes, thinking that everything should have been done in the house by now.  The laundry list of things that have yet to be fixed or painted or decorated seems to grow exponentially as the months go by.

The frustration is compounded by the fact that we found out we have to gut the bathroom. Yes, dear readers, gut. And this is a bathroom that I didn’t plan on touching until the very end. The center hall, the music room, our two guest rooms, the attic, refinishing the hardwood on the entire second floor, fixing our leaning garage, and some new light fixtures were all ahead of this bathroom. but, as leaks go, we are screwed because the offending pipes are IN THE FLOOR. Can’t access them from underneath. LOVELY.

I don’t necessarily want to use the phrase “failure” to describe how I feel about myself with regards to the house projects, but sometimes that’s the only word I can think of. It’s borderline embarrassing to have someone walk in the house and see the gaping hole we opened up to try to solve the leak issue. And as my friend Julie joked, every time I fix one part of the house or room, the adjoining areas that aren’t done look shabbier. It’s true.

But when it comes down to it, it’s not a failure. Even though I haven’t finished any major projects since before the fall, there are so many little things that have been done that I should feel proud about. A new print in the living room, a new rug in the one guest room, organizing my yarn stash so it doesn’t look like it exploded in the “kitty/crafting/New York/chocolate milk” room. And when it comes down to it, there’s still one major thing to be proud of: we have a house, and we have a loving home.

I think the biggest thing to date that we have done is the new addition of Abby, our puppy. And that has certainly come with its own host of challenges and redecorating and being very grateful I own a lot of kitchen towels to clean slobber up off the floor when she freaks when we leave the house. And we have done some decorating for her, mainly in the form of a bright purple octopus toy that is usually right in the middle of the living room, and a prairie dog antler that is typically in the worst possible location (ie not fun to step on).

So you know what? I may not have sanded or painted anything in the past few months, but I am so happy with the home we have continued to create for ourselves.

feline friday loves water

I would love to post a lovely picture of Abby with one of the kitties this week, but we’re still at the “hiss-and-run” phase of their relationship.

I have a funny feeling that Luna resents Abby for one primary reason: the water bowl. As a lot of kitty owners know, kitties are picky and love drinking running water. Whether it’s the faucet or the shower or a fountain, it has to be fresh, clean, running water. Luna is no different, so for the majority of her life she’s had a ceramic water fountain WITH a filter (because she’s spoiled).

Occasionally, though, the water fountain isn’t good enough and we resort to ONLY drinking from WATER GLASSES. Because Abby has discovered the cold deliciousness of the cat fountain, Luna is now very hesitant to drink out of it. Consequently, we have several water glasses left in strategic not-dog-height places. And if you’re drinking water? It’s hers. And if the water isn’t at a height where she can stick her head in the glass and still drink? Well, see exhibit A below:

Hope you all had a wonderful week!

two weeks of charity

It’s hard to believe it’s been two weeks. Two crazy weeks without posts, two crazy weeks of readjusting my sleep schedule and work schedule. Two weeks of learning to function around the house differently and get laundry done and worrying about whether there is enough water. Two weeks of panicking whether I  closed the gate or where the cats are or how long it has been since the last meal.

On April 23rd, the Man and I fell in love with her picture on line, and filled out an adoption application to Lulu’s Rescue. On the 24th, they called us for a phone interview, then called our friends for references. On the morning of the 25th, we were told she was ours. Her name was Charity.

Charity

We had been planning for a puppy for a while. I scoured CraigsList for dog crates and baby gates and an outside fencing system while the Man scoured the internet, talking to rescues, and sending me profiles. We knew we wanted a puppy if possible because of the cats. What we didn’t expect was a Labrador and Grreat Dane mix with the most soulful eyes and spotted belly and intelligence that will get us in trouble down the line.

On the 27th, my stomach in knots, we drove to New Jersey to pick her up. The entire time I panicked, wondering what would happen if she didn’t love me as much as I was already in love with her. What if the cats hated us for bringing her into our home? What if she didn’t like the food I had bought? What if she was horrible in the car and couldn’t go places with us?

puppy prepping

puppy prepping

We didn’t have to worry about any of that. From the minute the Man picked her up in his arms, I knew I had nothing to worry about other than what we were changing her name to. The first three nights having her, I was terrified I would never sleep again. She cried in her crate (duh, she’s a puppy) but the Man pulled out his sleeping mat and laid on the floor next to the crate for three nights. On night four, I was picky and wanted to sleep in the bed with my husband, and lo and behold, after 20 minutes, silence.

And in the two whirlwind weeks since, she has been on multiple car rides, we’ve gone to visit the Man for his dinner breaks and she was “big girl on campus”, greeting all the students and generally being delightful. She was the prime attraction at our yard sale just a week after getting her, with no annoying barking or unnecessary jumping on all the people that came to great her. And this past weekend she went on her longest car ride yet, all the way to Long Island, to visit Grandma for Mother’s Day (and got spoiled). She doesn’t beg when you eat dinner, she doesn’t pull on the leash, and best of all, she gives the sweetest kisses in the world.

Now I’m becoming a bit of a morning person but that’s okay. And I’m starting to take an evening nap (she does, so I have to right?) which is totally fine too. I just know, considering she’s already put on 3 pounds since we got her, that I need to cherish this time where I can still scoop her up in my arms and have her nap on my chest.

So, my dear readers, please welcome our 13 week old, 16 pound (and growing… fast!) Abigail Charity. You can call her Abby for short.

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