Let's not go for a hat-trick!
Feb. 17th, 2008 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meezergalThis was the Weekend of Stupid Kim Tricks!
Yesterday morning, as I was cleaning the bathroom floor, I threw a scrubrag in the pail because I wanted to spot-clean some stubborn places. Luckily it was just an old washcloth and not very big! Why, you ask?
Because, not used to using a scrubrag (I use a sponge-mop), I forgot it was in the pail, and when I emptied the pail into the toilet, down went the rag with the water! I saw it just in time to see it go down the plughole! I screeched and tried to grab it--I was wearing rubber gloves--but of course, it was too late.
I was horrified that the toilet, which is a bit dicey at best, was going to clog up on me, but so far it seems to be working ok.
Then, if that weren't enough, my mom's semi-wild cat, Skittles, had a small adventure. Skittles is a feral cat my mom tamed from a litter a mother cat had in the backyard of our old house. The cat really only trusted my mom, and certainly only let mom handle her.
Well.
In a spirit of Christmas cheer, my sister bought a poinsettia, and when she and dad moved, didn't bother to take it with her. It has NOT flourished under my indifferent care, and dried up because I kept forgetting to water it (I'm not a plant person). I noticed it was pretty sad yesterday, and bagged it up to throw it out. Unfortunately, a number of the dead, dry leaves fell off, and I THOUGHT I picked them all up.
Evidentally not.
I was sitting on the sofa late yesterday morning, Evy the tortoiseshell on my lap, when I heard a noise like that of a potato chip being crunched. And looked up in time to see Skittles munching on a couple of dry poinsettia leaves I had missed under the little table near the front door! Oh NO! I sprang up, Evy fell heavily to the floor, and Skittles ran down the basement.
I thought of calling the vet, but immediately discarded that idea, as any antidote they would give me, or the order to bring Skittles in, would result in something akin to a particularily bloody rugby scrum. With me on the losing side. And that's IF I could catch her. If you have cats, you know how they can seemingly hide in thin air, or under sheets of newspaper, or under a bed you're looking under, or in a completely empty room. If you aren't famililar with cats, there's no use even trying to explain.
So, instead, I sat down and worried. I called my sister, who suggested calling the vet. And thought a minute, and then said, "No, I guess that wouldn't work, would it?"
Thus far, over twenty-four hours later, Skittles, in the inscrutable way of cats, is fine. She came up from the basement e'en just a little while ago to examine the food dishes, and express her dislike of the new food (not Fancy Feast).
I think I need a Valium!
Yesterday morning, as I was cleaning the bathroom floor, I threw a scrubrag in the pail because I wanted to spot-clean some stubborn places. Luckily it was just an old washcloth and not very big! Why, you ask?
Because, not used to using a scrubrag (I use a sponge-mop), I forgot it was in the pail, and when I emptied the pail into the toilet, down went the rag with the water! I saw it just in time to see it go down the plughole! I screeched and tried to grab it--I was wearing rubber gloves--but of course, it was too late.
I was horrified that the toilet, which is a bit dicey at best, was going to clog up on me, but so far it seems to be working ok.
Then, if that weren't enough, my mom's semi-wild cat, Skittles, had a small adventure. Skittles is a feral cat my mom tamed from a litter a mother cat had in the backyard of our old house. The cat really only trusted my mom, and certainly only let mom handle her.
Well.
In a spirit of Christmas cheer, my sister bought a poinsettia, and when she and dad moved, didn't bother to take it with her. It has NOT flourished under my indifferent care, and dried up because I kept forgetting to water it (I'm not a plant person). I noticed it was pretty sad yesterday, and bagged it up to throw it out. Unfortunately, a number of the dead, dry leaves fell off, and I THOUGHT I picked them all up.
Evidentally not.
I was sitting on the sofa late yesterday morning, Evy the tortoiseshell on my lap, when I heard a noise like that of a potato chip being crunched. And looked up in time to see Skittles munching on a couple of dry poinsettia leaves I had missed under the little table near the front door! Oh NO! I sprang up, Evy fell heavily to the floor, and Skittles ran down the basement.
I thought of calling the vet, but immediately discarded that idea, as any antidote they would give me, or the order to bring Skittles in, would result in something akin to a particularily bloody rugby scrum. With me on the losing side. And that's IF I could catch her. If you have cats, you know how they can seemingly hide in thin air, or under sheets of newspaper, or under a bed you're looking under, or in a completely empty room. If you aren't famililar with cats, there's no use even trying to explain.
So, instead, I sat down and worried. I called my sister, who suggested calling the vet. And thought a minute, and then said, "No, I guess that wouldn't work, would it?"
Thus far, over twenty-four hours later, Skittles, in the inscrutable way of cats, is fine. She came up from the basement e'en just a little while ago to examine the food dishes, and express her dislike of the new food (not Fancy Feast).
I think I need a Valium!
