Moving on …

Life progresses in loops and whorls, never backtracking but occasionally slipping into neutral.  Gearing up again and finishing a few things is always a thrill, so we’re celebrating the fact that after eighteen months and a half-dozen or more 600-mile round-trips, the condo is EMPTY — and if there are still two things there for other people to get, nobody told me about it, I know nothing.  We’ve re-listed the property with a different agency and an agent who from all indications is a winner — selling the heck out of the town in all price ranges and she’s fabulous to work with.  Keep a good thought for us — this is the last piece of the “Move” puzzle and the only one that didn’t drop into place right away, due entirely to the housing market there.

Rainy and chilly today and we’re in recovery mode.  Kim turned gray at one point yesterday while we were hauling stuff up the stairs, and I’m perpetually not much help at all, in fact “if you need to sit down that’s great but you can’t stand there” is mostly what it’s about for me.  An inhaler fixes his problem but not so simple with mine such as they are.  And Madison, for the first time in our experience, got carsick on the drive home.  Riding in her backseat bed, watching the landscape roll by, head on her paws, making eyes at us and smiling … when we turned around again she was curled in a ball looking like a sad bedraggled little weasel.  Luckily we caught a break in that she never did upchuck the googly bits we shouldn’t have been sneaking her from the road-food bags, and happily this morning her lethargy and ennui have passed.  She’s doing tricks for treats again, and she’s had a bath — there was really no choice, she’d picked up so much dust and dirt while she was “helping” she looked radioactive.  The little mop is sleeping it off now, after giving me the stink-eye about the bath — she loves them but didn’t appreciate shivering and considered us hard-hearted, I’m totally sure.

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Wednesday’s child is full of woe …

Just watched Madison throw a tantrum of epic proportions, all without a sound. My usual mid-morning snack  is a handful of nuts and for whatever reason she decided she wanted one today. She’s been trained not to beg, and at any rate nuts are a big no-no, so I ignored her. She flounced into her bed next to my desk, frantically attempted to dig the fully-attached mattress out of it, then failing that burrowed her nose into each of the four corners, still scrabbling away with her feet. When nothing worked, she flopped disgustedly on her side, arched her back, and kicked her legs like she was having a nightmare. Lather, rinse, repeat on the other side. Big sigh. Stood up, shot me killer side-eye, and marched into the other room to sulk, with every hair on her head standing straight up and her frilly tail in a big frazzle. Total nutcase. See what I did there?

Kim has renamed her Badison.

Badison

 

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And this brings us to Tuesday Thankfulness …

… for this little girl who entered our lives so unexpectedly and brings us such happiness!  Madison, you’re a pip.

 

Maddie at window

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It’s a girl thing …

Kim’s been working nine-hour days for the past two weeks, doing a one-man build for The Nervous Set at the Arts Center.  This has pretty much been his baby from start to finish and he gets to use a butt-load of skills he’s proud of.  He comes home every evening worn to a shred but in a good mood.  I’m all chirpy for him, and now that Madison’s here the hours when he’s working on a project don’t feel as open-ended as they used to.

By yesterday, though, it’s clear that Maddie does not share my “I’m happy you’re happy” attitude.  She is not happy.  I regret to inform you that she is conducting herself like a tiny white douche canoe — snorting her way down the hall for potty break, straining at her leash, and barking at everything in her line of sight including especially leaves and twigs.  My stern attempts at discipline only egg her on to greater displays of rudeness.

Daddy walks in the door at 5pm and she’s all over him, an innocent pixie with light in her eyes.  She covers his face and neck with kisses before I can get in line for mine, and as God is my witness she shoots me The Look — “Don’t even, Mommy dearest, he’s taken.”

I deliver the old classic “This child is causing me to come unhinged.  It’s your turn ’til bedtime.”  So he takes her out for Walkies & Potties and she’s angelic.  No snorting, no straining, no barking.  True story because I go with them — I HAVEN’T SEEN THE MAN ALL DAY!  He finds the whole thing hysterical.  Now they’re collaborating against me.  Another woman has stolen my beloved’s heart and there isn’t jack-all I can do about it.

It’s okay, Maddie.  Really.  You’re a smart cookie.

 

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