Life's Little Details: Knitting, Sewing, Green Living, Frugal Living and Cooking In A Little Corner of Southern French Countryside.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

The Three Houdinis and Other Irritations

What can I say? Today has not been a great day around our house. First, I awoke to the news that our three kitties (The Three Houdinis - yet another great name for a band, I think) had escaped. It appears that they may have had a bit of outside assistance, but I can't be sure of that. In any case, I'm not going to mess with catching them again. It appears I was not meant to have any kitty petting. What can you do? I'll continue to feed them at least till they are old enough to hunt on their own (of course, if I feed them now, will they even start to learn?) but probably forever and a day. I just can't stand the idea of them wasting away to nothing like the last bunch did. Mama can apparently hunt enough for herself to nurse them when they're little, but as they get bigger and hungrier (but still not old enough to hunt for themselves) she just can't do it. We mothers can't be expected to do everything, can we? At least I can be content in the knowledge that I saved them from the fate of the last litter (my husband told me yesterday that he had actually found their little starved bodies).

So, there was that disappointment, but as we all know, when it rains it pours. So, let's talk about the weather a bit, shall we? My dear, sweet hubbie, who is preparing for a several-day trip to a wine trade show (I get to keep all the dirty diapers for myself!), and who had too many things on his plate already, was in a little fender-bender. Nothing serious. He's okay, and the car will be too after a bit of cosmetic surgery, but of course, being that he was the person ramming into the back bumper of the other car (never mind the fact that the idiot inexplicably slammed on his breaks while leaving a roundabout - if you're familiar with these, you'll know this is something you don't do) it looks like it was his fault. Of course, I'm relieved that he was not hurt, and took every opportunity to remind him of this, but it's nerve-wracking when you then have to hop in the family minivan for a 5-hour drive that same afternoon.

Then, there's the mystery leak (we think from the bathtub) that is seeping out from under the kitchen linoleum. Can't we do this sort of thing when the handyman isn't on his way out of town? It's not that bad, which is lucky, because it really is going to have to wait till he gets back.

And, don't even get me started on the Hitchcock-like moth problem that just started. We've had a horrible visitor (the nasty, skin-irrating gypsy moth caterpillar) this Spring, and it's reincarnation is going to take over the world and populate it with its offspring. They're everwhere. If you've ever wondered what EVIL looks like - it's not Saddam Hussein or even the weirdo in Korea whose name never sticks in my head no matter how many times I hear/read it. It's the gypsy moth. They've even got a little pair of pseudo-horns. Their caterpillar form, by the way, was the cause of Lambchop #1's recent all-over allergic body rash. If you want a close-up of Satan, himself, click here. Which leads me to this thought: do these guys cause troubles with wool? I hope not. That's the last thing we need around here!

Then, there's the weather, which while we're talking about the ruler of the Netherworld, we might as well talk about his home. While living in Houston, TX, I decided that though most people assume hell is hot, they're a bit off in thinking that's what makes it so awful. It's actually the humidity that tortures you for all eternity. If it were just a dry heat, hell wouldn't be so bad, but anyone who's lived in the southern US knows it has to be humid, too. After living a while here in France, though, I've realized I was a bit off in my definition of hell. Yes, it's hot, and of course, it's humid, but it is also sardine-packed full of people and not a bottle of deodorant among them. That's hell. (Oh, and a little disclaimer: that was not at all intended as an insult toward French people. It's more the fact that I wouldn't want to be sweating like a pig, as I have the past few days without a bit of something to take the stench off).

Despite the heat, mugginess, escaping kitties and car accidents, though, there is some good news. I'll just save that for another post, because there's a picture involved. Ooh - the suspense. You're almost peeing your pants, aren't you? Well, hold it!