Meat Day

I hate Meat Day.

As you already know, this summer, we are sub-letting a place in Palo Alto while Reed does his internship.

The people who live here belong to several community agriculture groups, and while they're gone, we are in charge of receiving drop-offs, and distributing to the various members. We don't take it around (thank HEAVENS) -- the members come pick it up.

Veggie days and fruit days (each once a week) aren't too bad. I have to take out, and fold up and take in, tons of boxes from the garage, and buckets and checklists, but I don't have to be at home. I just leave the stuff out during the day.

Meat days are different.

Meat Days....are awful.

The first Tuesday of every month, we get a meat delivery -- literally hundreds of pounds of meat. And I'm talkin' funky meat, like ground goat.

The meat man is always late, which means that for about an hour, I have to answer the door every five minutes and explain to people that their meat is not here yet.

Then the meat man finally comes.

Then, I have to call everyone who came earlier, and arrange a time that they can come pick up their meat.

Hold on...the doorbell just rang...I have to go dig someone's meat out of the freezer. brb.

Okay back.

Meat Day also means that Reed and I have to start the day by finding the cats in the garage and moving them to the upstairs bathroom where they can't get outside. (The meat man has to open the garage door). The cat thing is a difficult process.

It also means that I can't leave the house all day.

Plus, the garage door is broken, so I had to push it up manually, and then hold it up while the meat man put the meat into the freezer in the garage.

All this for ground goat???

I HATE Meat Day.

Puppy Sitting :)

On Tuesday, I got to puppy-sit three cute dogs! It was non-stop wildness and fun. Think of how cute ONE puppy is when it's playing or on a walk or something, and then multiply that by three, and that was how cute my day was.

Look at these puppies! The grey one is named Phineas, Winnie is in the middle, and then on the right is Beckett.

Honestly, they look small, but I think they could probably pull a dog sled with their combined forward thrust. Gosh, when they all see something they want, and go for it at the same time, good luck!

Phineas is such a love! He is very adventurous -- he's like the kid who always wants to get into something mischievous...and all the other kids follow him and get in trouble, too. I love his shaggy little face: I think it makes him look like Einstein. He is very brave and very sweet. I love his black vest that he wears -- it's a harness for his leash, but I think it makes him look like a spy, which totally suits him.

Winnie just wants to be where the party is. She has such a happy, adventurous little personality. Beckett followed the two of them, but I think he was a little nervous (he had never been to Winnie's house before, and he had never met either of the other two dogs).

This picture totally describes Beckett. He is so sweet, but he has a hard time standing up for himself sometimes. Here, Winnie started eating out of is bowl, and he just looked up at me like, "Do something!"

Notable events from the day:

Dust Buster Terror: I was cleaning up my aunt's kitchen, and was using the dust-buster to clean the floor, when suddenly I realized that all three puppies were standing, tense and fixated, watching the dust-buster's every move. Turns out, vacuum animosity is a universal dog trait.

Once I realized it was scaring them, I turned the dust-buster off and put it on the counter, because I am kind to animals.

Reed, however, thought it was way to fun to pass up. He started chasing the dogs around the kitchen, and man they were freaking out. Scampering puppies everywhere. Beckett got so scared that at one point, in desperation, he cleared the doggie gate separating him from the living room, where my grandma was sitting with her broken shoulder, and jumped up on her seat for protection, which started her screaming for help.

After we rescued Grandma, we realized that poor Phineas had been so scared he had tinkled. I cleaned it up.

Later, when debating which puppy cleared the gate (I thought it was Phineas), my grandma said, "Oh whatever, it was some HUGE animal," which sent Aunt Heather and I into hysterical laughter.

The biggest of these puppies is probably 12 pounds, soaking wet.

Pictures of Our Current Place

Hello everyone!

This is mainly for the parents, who have been asking to see pictures of the apartment we're subletting, but perhaps you'll enjoy them, too!

This is our front door:

The building is essentially three stories: small garage on the bottom, then the main room and kitchen, and then two bedrooms upstairs.

This is the living room on the main floor:

This is our kitchen:

This is in the main room again -- a little door that leads out to the balcony:

Shot of the balcony:

This is our view from the balcony -- a very cute little neighborhood:

This next shot is terrible. It is a picture taken from the other side of the main room. I was trying to show where the kitchen and the stairs were in relation to the main room, and this is the picture that resulted -- sorry!

This is our bedroom -- on the top floor. There is also a kids' room and a bathroom on this floor.

Another shot of the bedroom + closet:

These are the stairs that lead from the main room/kitchen down to the front door and the garage. The garage door is the one on the right, and the front door is straight ahead. This is where I cornered "El Jefe," -- the scene of the kitty slasher movie.

Here is the little garage -- where the cats live in exile now:

Just to prove that the cats have food and water, and their big stinky love-sac bed thing, which I dragged down two flights of stairs pregnant. The little box and scratching post are in here, too.

This is the view from our front door:

This is the main building, just down the street from us:

Man vs. Cat

Did I say the cats and I would be friends soon? Let me re-phrase that: we are mortal enemies for all time.

While we were getting ready to come out here, I was considering moving them and their litter box and stuff to the garage, because I'm not supposed to be around them while I'm pregnant. But then, I would just imagine their sweet little kitty faces, and suddenly I'd be flooded with nesting hormones and would banish the thought.

Lucky for me, these are awful, beastly cats.

Well, I should specify. One cat is like...a South American dictator: Lazy and corrupted, waiting around all day for the things he wants, no humane interests, etc.

I like to call him "El Jefe," after Trujillo of the Dominican Republic.

The other, I've decided, is one of his mindless women -- bless her heart she is as dumb as a post -- you know, just sort of along for the ride, looks pretty and doesn't say too much.

On Monday, I decided that they needed to be exiled to the garage. After moving all of their stuff down two flights of townhouse stairs, I went in search of the pair. I found the dumb one very quickly. She didn't really put up a fight, just kept looking at me every 30 minutes or so, freshly surprised.

El Jefe proved much less cooperative. He wouldn't let me get near him, so I had to spook him from one room to the next, shutting doors behind me as I went to cut down his options. Finally, I chased him down the second set of stairs, which ends in an entryway with only two doors: the front door and the door to the garage.

It was like a kitty slasher film.

Jefe started meowing a meow that seriously sounded like he thought I was going to kill him. He reached up and pawed at the doorknob and kept looking frantically back at me as I came down the stairs.

Well, when I opened the door to the garage and threw him in, he turned and bolted out and up the stairs so fast I couldn't shut the door in time. The dumb cat followed him. They both raced up the stairs, but tried to jump through the bars of the kid-gate at the top and got stuck. They were both struggling frantically, but I think the dumb one forgot what was happening, because I had no problem putting her back in the garage. Jefe was determined. Finally, the humane person in me helped him get unstuck, but then he clawed me and bolted, and the whole process started over again.

In the end, however, I was triumphant. The evil kitties are confined to the garage with all their food and poop, and I have since vacuumed every inch of the cat-hair-covered apartment and scrubbed everything with Lysol.

Be assured, they are safe, well-fed, and comfy on their stupid cat beds. I don't abuse animals, I just don't allow them to abuse me!

Hotel California

Well, we've finally done it...we've moved to California -- only for the summer, though. Reed has an internship with Apple until August, and so we are currently sub-letting a cute condo in Palo Alto. There's a workout room and a pool, so my summer schedule is taken care of. We are taking care of two kitties while we're here (Reed couldn't be more thrilled), named Oliver and Loralei. They are sort of scared of us, but Reed dragged them out from under the bed and pet them so that they'd know we were friendly. They'll be out soon. A cat's gotta eat, right?

I have already found beautiful, delicious fruit, which now covers our kitchen counter...but I have yet to find a little stand that I can buy from. Better yet, a guy in a lawn chair on the side of the road...very good fruit is usually where the lawn chair man is -- at least that's how it works with the "corn man" in Provo. So delicious! I think I'm going to like it here, but it is a bit lonely. I miss my friends and family, but I'm sure I'll find projects to pass the time.