etc.

Meet Heidi, a.k.a. Killer.

We found our first mouse last night.

Dinner with family and when we got home I spotted a small, dark, leaf-shaped something on the rug under the dining table lying perfectly still and I almost walked away before I realized that we don’t actually have any plants with leaves that shape, so I took a closer look and found a tiny, stiff, mouse carcass. Oh yes indeedy. I don’t have much against mice, I’d prefer not to share my living space with them, but I still somewhat surprised myself at not being more perturbed over the discovery. I guess seeing a neighbourhood cat play with a small mouse on our driveway last summer had me resigned to the fact that we’d find them within our walls eventually.

Of course the upshot of all this is that we’ve discovered that one of our cats is a mouser. While we can’t be absolutely sure which one it is, we’re pretty certain it’s not the lazy alpha-male, Sebastian. He seemed to discover the tiny corpse the same time I did and, judging from his stunned reaction, had nothing to do with the actual killing. Which leaves our timid female, Heidi, whose varied talents we’re only just discovering. Heidi got lots of hugs, treats, and encouraging words last night.

Lots of good eating for a low-key weekend. Friday night, roast beef and yorkshire pudding as we celebrated Karen’s birthday at the mister’s parents’ house; Saturday night, the mister’s portobello mushroom pasta; this morning, eggs over-easy, crispy bacon, lots of good and buttered baguette, fresh OJ, at Easy, just around the corner from our house. Good food and lots of it, it keeps the brain working.

It also keeps the body working, and this body has been doing a lot more work than it expected to this weekend. We cleaned the eaves troughs this morning, raked the leaves on the front yard (swept them, actually; seemed such a shame to buy a rake for a 10″ x 10″ yard, for use twice a year, so a good straw broom did the trick), cleaned and covered the air conditioner, and the mister is currently working on installing a new exhaust cover for the dryer outlet. Nothing says “been working outside” like the smell of dirt and rotting leaves and blackened fingernails.

The mister, who has been in China and Korea for two weeks (which you might have gathered from the comments he’s been leaving here lately) is back now, which is a good thing because I like having him around, but it also means I’ve been ripped from the comfort and warmth of my parents’ house where I have been staying recently, back to the stinky familiarity of the crazy little house. Staying with my parents is always a good thing, and I say that not because they read this blog daily (Hi Mum & Dad!), but because they are good people, the kind of people you miss when you’re not around them, and no one serves up better chow than my mum. Seriously. Her homemade chicken soup has seen me through this nasty cold/cough thing (and I believe it is universally acknowledged that no one’s medicine shelf is better stocked than one’s parents’). This same mum, who is celebrating a birthday today, also happens to be one of the strongest, kindest, bestest people I know, Happy Birthday Mum!

And we’re mostly just holding our breath over this one but the house has been relatively sweet-smelling since around 8pm last night. Updates anon.

In unrelated site news, I’ve redesigned Bibliolatry, the other blog around here, let me know if it doesn’t look quite right or if the css is misbehaving for you, will you? And the return of the mister brings the return of my camera, so belated New York pictures will be up soon along with a little showcase of some lovely pictures of a palace in South Korea. If that doesn’t entice, I don’t know what will.

I have been watching movies, reading books and zines, seeing friends, fixing to see more friends, writing letters and emails to all the many of you to whom I owe letters and emails, spending generous chunks of time with my parents and sister, cleaning in fits and starts when I am home, and generally trying to live as normal a life as one possible can with a funky omnivore living in one’s chimney. I haven’t referred to the infestation issue in a short while and I don’t plan to turn this into a journal of woes, so I’ll let you know when all is well again in our crazy little house, but until then, all is not well in our crazy little house.

Also, the mister has my camera for a few days which means 100% chance of no pictures around here for a while.

AND, one of our favourite readers is celebrating a birthday today. Happy day, Dad! Completely unbiased opinion? Best dad in the world.

Yesterday was supposed to be spent unpacking the last 12 boxes since the move. 12 boxes! The mind reels. Since we haven’t needed what’s in them for just about four months, it is very likely that the Salvation Army and/or Goodwill will be receiving a hefty donation from us in the near future. There are a lot of candles, some miscellaneous tchotchkes, and who knows what else. I’m still working on the shoes.

Part of the day was also supposed to be devoted to procuring ingredients and preparing a rhubarb pie to take to my parents’ Thanksgiving dinner last night. Instead, as you already know, we spent our time hatching and implementing a foolhardy plan (not to be confused with a foolproof plan) to deal with more squirrels. And just as well because rhubarb isn’t even in season around here. The day ended much better than it began, with a gathering of 5 of my favourite people around a fine, warm, 16 pound bird. And tonight, more bird with 4 other favourite people.

You know your life is working for you when your mortgage payment leaves $4 in your checking account, $2 of which you invest in tickets to your library’s 50/50 draw, from which you end up winning $74. That’s my highest return on investment this year.

Busy, busy, so busy.

6 days without updates, well, well. Since our last visit I have been celebrating a birthday, buying furniture, moving furniture, setting up furniture, celebrating same birthday, writing, checking, proof-reading, proof-reading some more. All in that order. In furniture news, we have a few new bits in our bedroom and a bed in the guest room, which means we’re ready to receive guests now. Well, almost ready, there are a few boxes I can move and/or unpack in a hurry if you tell me you’re coming. All are welcome, but please call and introduce yourself first.

Mike’s birthday was celebrated over a 5 day period. I thought I was lucky with a Saturday birthday this year but let it be known that one is better off with a weekday birthday because celebration extends to the following weekend anyway.

And the sustained kvetching over the article over the past while has hereby ceased, but not indefinitely. Draft one is on it’s way to my editors, poor editors, 5,203 words to edit and all of it drivel. I’m hoping to pass the next week without looking at it and perhaps not even entering my study if I can manage it. But then revisions will begin and whoa look out, you might want to head for cover.

Happy 33rd to the mister. He shares a birthday with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jim Henson, and Linda McCartney, but who cares because he’s cooler than all of them. I’m lucky to know him and luckier still to be married to him.

How soon one forgets that writing an article is so much more than writing the article. It’s checking references, page numbers, paragraph numbers, URLs, writing the bibliography, checking every footnote, and cross-referencing it all against a revised edition of a style guide you were just starting to get used to before they decided to update it.

Things have taken on a decided routine at casa etches-johnson lately. Wake up 6.30am, leave for work 7.15am, leave work for home 4pm, sort and read mail, play with cats, gab with the mister, eat supper, work on book chapter for 2.5 hours, bed. Being that variety is the spice and all that, I try to introduce the occasional diversion in, you know, the route I take from the parking lot to the library. All of this routine is quite out of the ordinary for me but it is going the distance in providing the structure I need to deliver my book chapter on schedule this time. I’m already on my second extension.

Here are two new experiments in reflective surfaces to keep you amused while I sift through megs & megs of Montréal pics.

And bon voyage, auf wiedersehen, das vidanya, arrivederci, to A & Z who leave today to vacation in France for two weeks. Happy trails darlings!

Peche is her name, as I’ve mentioned before. We haven’t really adopted her because she looks well-fed and we can only assume that means she is already someone else’s pet, either that or the whole neighbourhood is feeding her, like we are, sneaking handfulls of kitty kibble when our own cats aren’t looking and filling old bowls full of water and leaving them out for her to quench her thirst on. Lord knows, this neighbourhood is full of cats and cat owners, we all have access to kitty kibble and Peche is practically angelic, who could help but get taken by her fuzzy kitten-ness and tiny mew?

She is an intrepid little thing, fearless really, she bolts up the tree in our neighbour’s backyard, chasing impetuous squirrels all the way up. And no getting caught high up in the tree and needing a fireman-rescue, oh no, not for our Peche. Once her interest in the squirrel has waned, she rests for a few moments in the highest branches of this very old, very tall maple tree and then shimmies her way down without missing a beat. All those leaps and fearless bounds on thin kitten legs, it’s like watching those monkeys that swing in trees in the African Sahara on the Discovery Channel. Sometimes she gets us a little worried because the squirrels don’t often stop in the tress but instead use them to get to the hydro lines above and run across those to get to the next tree, which is often across the road, and Peche, not knowing better, hankers after them, obviously assuming that she too can conquer the hydro line, if the squirrels can why can’t she? And she probably could, she just hasn’t tried yet.

She’s a jumbled mix of grey and white and peachy hues, and if I could take her picture, I would, she’s just such a restless soul, all affectionate and chatty one minute, and the next chasing after two dobermans on leashes, being walked by their owner who scratches his head and chuckles at this tiny creature, so chockful of moxie, who thinks she can take on big dogs with her fierce hiss and ferocious kitten claws all the while weaving through his legs, just looking for love.