My sister's live-in remodel continues. I was going to say, "apace" but this is anything *but* "apace." It does have a pace, but it ain't a real fast one.
When last I wrote, a hole had been started in my yard. The next day the hole was made larger. That also meant that two mountains of dirt from the hole had been constructed on the lawn. Who needs grass anyway? A small amount of lumber had also appeared.Then.…..they went away. No activity for two days (really four because of the weekend).
On Monday, two guys came and put a couple of stakes in the hole. Then they left and didn’t come back. I hope they get paid by the job.
On Tuesday, a bunch of guys came and pounded stakes into the bottom of the hole, wound some strings around the stakes, poked some new rebar in the dirt, and created a form for the foundation. I don’t know how long they were there, but at least there was some progress.
On Wednesday, a cement mixer came. They put a pipe up over my roof and dumped cement into the bottom of the hole and filled the forms. You know what Dodger did when that happened. The trend is strengthening.
On Wednesday evening, it began to rain. A lot. It rained a lot all night long and into the morning. When we arose this morning, we had a lovely cement pond surrounded by a muddy moat, ringed by eroding mountains of dirt. But we have the beginnings of a foundation, so all is good.
For those who have been following this saga, and remember the discussion of the pile of rebar snakes, concrete, and how delicate certain strains of grass are to be mauled by a bobcat - here's proof.
Moving on to genetics, or "The acorn doesn't fall far from the tree." The Castle Guard Force consists of the Exterior Guard, a force of two dogs scrup'ls and the 8 felines who consitute the Interior Guard. All are foundlings of one sort or another. I used to wonder if there was a marking on my forehead which reads "sucker" in Cat and Dog.
Heh. It's either that or a pheromone or something. Why do I say that? This note from the Armorer's Father will explain:
There is a new resident in the old house. Dee Corn called me Tuesday evening upset about a kitten that was living in her back yard. Very young and constantly crying. Her two dogs were not pleased, but she was slipping water and milk to the creature. She called for advice but and before I could think of a good excuse to avoid it she was at my door with this very young teeny black and white fluff ball.The kitty decided I was mama. climbed up my leg using ice climbing crampons and stuck her nose in my eye, mewing pitifully.
Of course she spent the night, much to the disgust of my other two housemates. She slept with me, or to be more accurate, we occupied the bed together. She cried most of the night resting on my chest. Damncat wouldn't speak to me (except at meal time) and Biby was an aggressively nasty hostess.
Yesterday was the first window replacement day so I spent most of the day trying to keep the animals from escaping and keeping the little one away from the feet of the workmen.
Last night was calm. The crying had stopped, but I still had a little body clinging to me most of the night.
Today Damncat has adopted his the "if I ignore it will go away" stance, but the BIB is still hissing & growling & sputtering. She blames me of course & won't let me come close except to fill her dish.
We have an appointment with John Williams tomorrow.
I have tentively named fuzzball Elizabeth - Lizzie for short, at least until I can come up with more appropriate like fuzzball or darned cat or needlefoot (I look like a drug addict)
You can also see where I learned my naming conventions. Given we have cats named Barnacle, Little Girl, Rest Stop... And Dad had one named Noname... Damncat is pretty obvious - but Biby (more correctly, the acronym BIB) - well, that's short for Bitch In the Basement.
And she is.
But she's family. And now, so is Lizzie. That little pointy-ended fluffball doesn't know how good she's got it.
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