Moving blows
Okay, real quick... the move is almost there and done. Just a small amount of crap at old place and the clean-up. Ack! It has sucked. I am stressed and every time I turn around, something else is costing me $200.
We have SO MUCH SHIT! Crazy horrible. I don't want to move again for at least TWO DECADES. Anyway, I don't have time to really write, as she who is my wife, needs me to carry MORE boxes upstairs... I, on the other hand, need a long soak in the "love tub" ... since it's in her room, she's being possessive about it :-(
Tonite's Fiasco
I was off the 'Net for a week and a half... literally THOUSANDS of e-mails to wade through, mostly spam... tired... very tired and still sore. PLUS, when walking dogs tonite, Angus bumped my hand and Zoey's retractable popped out of my hand... so, off she goes. Me yelling "treats" here going "F-you Daddy" and heading for the fields w/ the retractable dragging behind. Across the new house pad, me tripping over rocks and debris in the dark, trying to pull up my pants (falling off due to me losing weight in this horrible move)... down into the drainage area where there is, of course, MUD. Freezing mud and straw. Off she goes, up the hill, leash trailing. Dark, butt-ass cold. Holding pants, other leash w/ Angus on it (him trying to run off too) SS fur hat on my head. Up the other side, me moving fast so I don't sink into the semi-frozen mud. Shit, SHIT, SHIT-- Zoey!!! Damit!
Over hill and dale through the mud, around the field, taking off each time the fat one closes in on her position. Finally, we smell something dead or nicely stinky and as we stop and smell, up runs the heavily panting, pants-falling-off, WWII German fur hat wearing fat one, who barely manages to stomp on the leash, standing there, breathing hard and cursing dogs, all dogs. And women too, just for good measure. >:-( Not funny. Mud everywhere. Shoes, pants, dog feets... Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Night for now...
We have SO MUCH SHIT! Crazy horrible. I don't want to move again for at least TWO DECADES. Anyway, I don't have time to really write, as she who is my wife, needs me to carry MORE boxes upstairs... I, on the other hand, need a long soak in the "love tub" ... since it's in her room, she's being possessive about it :-(
Tonite's Fiasco
I was off the 'Net for a week and a half... literally THOUSANDS of e-mails to wade through, mostly spam... tired... very tired and still sore. PLUS, when walking dogs tonite, Angus bumped my hand and Zoey's retractable popped out of my hand... so, off she goes. Me yelling "treats" here going "F-you Daddy" and heading for the fields w/ the retractable dragging behind. Across the new house pad, me tripping over rocks and debris in the dark, trying to pull up my pants (falling off due to me losing weight in this horrible move)... down into the drainage area where there is, of course, MUD. Freezing mud and straw. Off she goes, up the hill, leash trailing. Dark, butt-ass cold. Holding pants, other leash w/ Angus on it (him trying to run off too) SS fur hat on my head. Up the other side, me moving fast so I don't sink into the semi-frozen mud. Shit, SHIT, SHIT-- Zoey!!! Damit!
Over hill and dale through the mud, around the field, taking off each time the fat one closes in on her position. Finally, we smell something dead or nicely stinky and as we stop and smell, up runs the heavily panting, pants-falling-off, WWII German fur hat wearing fat one, who barely manages to stomp on the leash, standing there, breathing hard and cursing dogs, all dogs. And women too, just for good measure. >:-( Not funny. Mud everywhere. Shoes, pants, dog feets... Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Night for now...
posted by Sturmkatze | 00:04
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