The cat

On Saturday we finally managed to pull together and go to the MSPCA to adopt a cat. We were undecided on the key question of whether to get a new kitten, a teenager cat, or a mature one. The basic rationale was that the kitten is the most desirable of cat and that is a pro and a con. In adopting a cat we wanted to get a cat that would benefit from adoption so kittens are likely to get adopted because they are cute and cuddly.

So we arrived at noon on Saturday to a surprising new MSPCA adoption center at the Angel Memorial Animal Hospital. The sign on the door as we walked in informed us that they look for donations and in particular this week they were looking for bleach. The waiting area you first reach when you arrive gives you the impression that you should wait to be escorted into the cat observation area. But things are very busy and actually nobody comes to greet you until after waiting for about 10 minutes you realize that you should just walk into the area with all of the cats, go through the door leading to the dogs, or take a look at some critters like bunny rabbits, mice, or ferrets.

The cat area was chock full of cats. We went first through the hall of tall cages where mainly adult cats were living on their own. I figured these ones were less tolerant of other cats because on either side of the hall the adoption center had large monkey house style rooms facing out the window. The monkey houses were filled with ten cats each all living in a communal lifestyle complete with high walks, windows, and cubbies to nestle into. But just before we entered the first big room we were stunned by the kittens. Two pens on the side had kittens in them. One had a single kitten and it’s mother, both white with calico markings on the top. The kitten was feeding from the mother’s chest. The sign on the pen suggested that they were a packaged deal and that these cats were already pending adoption.

Next to this pen another pen held four or five kittens. Sarah and I held a couple of them and were very interested in these tiny fun creatures. Madeline, who was sitting with us in her stroller, also wanted to say hello to the cats. To avoid the charms of the littlest ones we moved into one of the big open rooms filled with cats. I found one cat that reminded me of Thumper. She was a black cat, somewhat fat but mainly muscular, that looked like she could chase mice. I told Sarah that I was impressed with this cat and we interacted with it for a while. When we asked more information about this cat, nee Fluffy, we were informed that she was a de-clawed cat. Now I don’t think it is right to de-claw a cat but I also don’t think a de-clawed cat would be effective at scaring mice. The woman giving us cat backgrounds also introduced us to a Mane Coon cat that was very interesting looking and seemed quite friendly. Again she let us know that this was a de-clawed cat. The woman asked what I felt was wrong with a de-clawed cat as Sarah looked on at me and I was forced to admit that one of my reasons for wanting a cat was to catch and kill our local mouse population. The adoption center volunteer changed from looking at me as a good potential paternal figure for her beloved cats to how someone might look at a slave owner that beat his slaves mercilessly. She then explained that cats can’t kill mice unless their mother teaches them how and that they kill mice with their teeth and not their claws.

Regardless of her attempt to enlighten me, Sarah and I moved on to searching for a cat in an unassisted fashion to avoid the judging eyes of this adoption volunteer.

We did see a cat that looked thin, young, and strong in a three story cage. She looked much like Cloey, Jeremy’s cat, with a brown speckled body but with a very bushy Coon style tail. I chatted with a helper about this cat and found that she was found abandoned in an apartment when someone had left her there alone after moving out. She was given the name Pigeon at the shelter but was still very thin. The woman helping us this time was very excited to see me, Sarah, and Madeline. She could see that we would be a good home for this cat and told us that she really wanted Pigeon to go home with us.

The adoption process included an hour and a half wait to get to the front of the line to go through the process with the forms. The forms included questions like whether we had pets before and if we no longer had them what had occurred. I put down a brief sentence about Bijoux but the adoption person never asked a question about it. Soon we were home with a cat.

Later in the afternoon Nick and Christina came over and they helped us to cut Pigeon’s nails. I was hoping for a better name and someone called her Annabelle which is now her official Housman family name.

Annabelle is a bit crazy so far. She rolls around in her litter and runs at top speed throughout the apartment. Madeline likes to chase her or at least to chase the beeping electronic mouse at the end of the plastic fishing rod and string that I bought at Stop and Shop. Unfortunately it hasn’t been easy to catch sleep since we brought Annabelle home. Madeline has been very fussy at night and is apparently refusing to sleep in her crib. Our solution for now is to get her to sleep on the floor of her room on the carpet. This plan worked two nights in a row. The first night I got a nice sore back from sleeping with her. The second one I decided to leave her and to sleep in the bed. She slept fine but was about twenty feet from where I laid her down. She is a sleep crawler. So tonight we are trying to put her on the floor within a makeshift pillow barrier system. It was working for most of “The World’s Fastest Indian” but she woke up and Sarah had to go back to try to nurse her and calm her down. Hopefully things will improve on the sleeping front soon. I feel like the mouse front is under control of commander Annabelle.

Posted by Dan Housman at 09:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Posted by Dan Housman at 10:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sarah and I were supposed to go to the 100 day party, a Korean tradition, for a friend of ours today. Sarah didn’t feel too well and I was tired from having gone out last night until 2:00 AM. A Korean friend of mine explained the tradition to me and mentioned that the one year party is a major event. Her son’s one year party had over 200 people attend with 300 people invited and the party was during a blizzard. She mentioned that in Korea if you have a son it is the only real chance for the mother to throw a large party on their behalf. A daughter’s wedding is arranged and organized by the bride’s family so the one year party is a big event similar to a wedding. That got me to thinking about traditions like Bar Mitzvahs, traditionally male until the invention of the Bat Mitzvah, and I realize that parents have a need to throw big parties for their children where family members and friends can all get together for a fun time. So cultures have created events like weddings for girls and bar mitzvahs or one year celebrations for boys as a reason to hold these big events.

Last night was fun. We went out to see Lisa and Dave play with Sweet Wednesday. Plenty of folks were there including Falkoff, DK, Hattie, Stephanie, and Robert. Falkoff brought his brother Nick, sister Katie, and his friend who is living in the Falkoff house while doing contract work with Nick. At one point in the evening some folks were talking girl talk and someone mentioned a story about being on a beach at a resort town and a man walking up to her, saying “you can slap me for this later” and then kissing her passionately. The Sweet Wednesday band sounded excellent.

The crew got excited to go dancing so we took a ride to Central and watched the soul band close out the night at the Cantab Lounge. When I got home Sarah was in bed with Madeline sleeping. I walked Madeline into her crib and carefully laid her down. At first she stirred a bit but when I got into bed she had quieted. But Sarah and I got up to walk to the kitchen to grab some drinks. Madeline woke-up and started crying. We figured we’d let her calm down for a few minutes but the cries kept getting louder. Finally I went in to check on her and found her standing up grasping the top bar of her crib with both hands and crying. She must have decided to climb to a standing position to get a better view of us and then once standing was unsure of how to get down from the position. It was unexpected to see her standing as I have never seen her pull herself into a standing position on her own.

Today we considered going to get a cat at the Angell shelter but on investigation we learned that the shelter is closed on Sundays and Mondays. Personally I would think these would be ideal cat adoption days since people don't have to work on Sunday and getting the cat during the week allows them to do that last bit of travelling or driving around to places before beginning a commitment to care for a needy kitten or acclimate an older cat. But maybe it is intentional for them to make the hours tricky. If people can't commit important time to adopt the cat then they probably won't be committed to the process. But maybe Tuesday or Thursday will work. For now I just did some patching with steel wool and joint compound to fill a hole after going to Home Depot to grab a new blue toilet seat (the other one was cracked) along with other implements of mouse protection. Unfortunately the mice got lucky because the round metal piece designed to cover the radiator pipe disappeared somewhere before we got home.

Posted by Dan Housman at 10:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I went to put the steaks and the asparagus into the broiler in the oven and the mouse scurried past me along the wall going from the radiator to the fridge. I startled the mouse and then it startled me. Then after I placed the food in the oven the mouse scurried back from behind the fridge to the radiator. I looked and found that the radiator doesn't have a cover ring after dismissing the idea that the family of mice lived behind the washer and dryer. My theory is that the mice travel through the building using the pipes for the radiators. I know the other hole they go through in the kitchen across the room. I'll have to seal both of these holes. It will be a good mission for me this weekend to investigate and accomplish this. But seeing the high quadraped rodent foot traffic in the kitchen has helped to spur Sarah and I to prioritize getting a cat ASAP.

Posted by Dan Housman at 09:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Lisa and Dave have a live band show this Saturday night at Sally O'Briens. I chatted with Kilimnik today and he is likely to attend. Falkoff and Zoe ought to be able to make it too. The band can use all the crowd that can attend at Sally's this week to keep them booked on a regular basis so I won't take excuses from people who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night. It will be our own personal party if we all pack into this bar and have a good time. I'm heading out to Marshfield with Sarah and Madeline if anyone wants to hang out by the pool before the big show. Drop me a line if you want bicycle directions or a ride.

Info on the show is at the Sweet Wednesday web site.

Posted by Dan Housman at 10:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When we got back from Toronto it was 3:30 AM on Monday morning. I had done the last part of the drive because dad is more of a daylight and early evening driver. He doesn’t like to drive past normal bed times. It was my fault that we were getting in late since I insisted upon watching the World Cup Final game between Italy and France. The highlight of the game was that after two hours of the announcers building-up the retiring French star Zidane to be the second coming of Christ when it came to class, sportsmanship, and skill the guy gave a full force head butt into an Italian.

Upon arriving home I was disgusted, but not surprised, to find the bathtub filled with the dried remnants of the Friday attempt to exorcise the demons of the drain. Since I was awake at 3:30 AM I didn’t have any great urge to sleep. So instead I poured a heaping portion of Drano into the dried-up drain using the logic that since it was dry the Drano could finally find the clog and zap it.

An hour later I was back at fussing with the drain again with the water clogged back into the tub and reinvigorating the refuse with the life of water. I went to the kitchen to find that the vegetables from our weekend had generally turned into rot and mush. The basil, which I figured would keep for a few weeks for caprese salad was all black and was dripping a black liquid. The cantaloupe that I had bought because the fruit salads at the Deroche Supermarket were $6.99 for a tiny amount of fruit was soft enough to put my finger into it and covered with mold.

I was getting fed-up with the smell and the rot of returning home so I tossed all of the vegetables and whatever molding or dried bread floating in the kitchen. I cursed the mice and wiped the stove and vowed to bring a cat home as soon as possible.

I then used the Internet to look-up how to clear a clogged tub drain. The net showed an article with various solutions including covering the drain overflow at the top with a towel while plunging. There was one diagram of removing the drain overflow cap to then use the auger to unclog hidden problems. So I undid the cover and pulled out my rarely useful auger. This time I followed the instructions and carefully snaked it down the opening. Then I closed the nut that tightens around the wire snake. I turned the auger a bunch of times at the bottom. I pulled it back out seeing no effect and went back to the sink to clean out the auger to remove the goop and Drano that might maim me if I touched me. I looked back at the tub and the water was flowing down. I had cleared the drain.

I took the rotting vegetables down stairs and went to sleep.

I didn’t see Madeline until the afternoon since I slept in until about 11 and then went to the gym. I watched a reality show about over privileged Hollywood socialites who were getting their super Sweet 16 party with prices of over $200,000 per party. They had one that remade Vegas and had some pop band play and another who created a Cirque-De-Soleil atmosphere and was pissed that the hotel wouldn’t let her suspend circus performers from the ceiling of a banquet hall. It made me think that they should make a reality TV show just like it for my super bachelor party. It would probably have to be on HBO or the Playboy channel but it would probably be more interesting. I took a shower both before and after going to the gym and felt clean after having wiped down the tub with Comet.

Madeline was a dream to see. It’s hard to imagine how much I can love her until I am about to see her after a long time away and miss her in that last moment. It is like when you need to go to the bathroom and know the rest stop is coming soon. I just wanted to hug her, hold her, kiss her, and throw her up in the air. Then I took her home to my nice, recently cleaned little world.

Posted by Dan Housman at 09:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On Wednesday night I smelled gas in the kitchen about an hour after dinner and noticed that one of the burners was still on but wasn’t lit. I turned it off and then quietly opened the windows so as to avoid setting off a spark that might send me flying through them. I whispered to Sarah not to panic but that the kitchen was filled with gas and we then proceeded to open windows throughout the apartment. We survived.

By Thursday morning when I went to take my shower the tub was already filled with enough water for a mock naval battle. Sarah’s shower hadn’t drained because the drain had clogged. I let it sit during the day filled with shampoo and soap and by evening it was empty again. Sarah and I discussed whether to go to the store for Drano but we found a large container of kitchen Drano under the sink. So I poured a few tablespoons into it. I read the container to learn that I was supposed to, according to the Drano folks, place a tablespoon of Drano into my drains once per week. A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down. Somewhere in the world there is a person who takes these labels seriously and spends every waking hour trying to fulfill their weekly duties placing Drano in drains, testing fire alarms, and opening and closing their blinds each day.

The drain should have been cleared in fifteen minutes but ten minutes after I rushed in through the noxious gases to turn the shower on the tub was filled with standing water with a blue tint to it. This clog wasn’t going down easily. I played around enough to determine that the sink was also connected to the clog. If I used the bathroom sink the water ended-up in the bathtub. So I tried clearing the sink with some more gas producing Drano. That didn’t do the trick either. Next I unraveled a coat hanger and tried fishing around for a clog but it never made it past a few inches because of the curves of the drain. So I grabbed a plunger and started plunging vigorously. That was satisfying but it dredged-up the all sorts of things that I couldn’t imagine were in my drain into the tub. Sarah suggested maybe a mouse had committed suicide in the drain but I didn’t see a skull. The detritus that looked like leaves that came out baffled me.

I awoke in the middle of the night for a second round. The water was still standing so I just poured more Drano down the pipe. I pulled out the augur that I had bought the last time the drain had clogged. I don’t really know how to use it and it didn’t seem to get any further than the wire. The water was still standing after I had read 50 pages of my book so I returned to sleep.

In the morning after I had awoken and Sarah was about to get ready for work I found that the drain had emptied slowly over the course of the evening. So I poured a good three tablespoons of the Drano into it, ignoring the warning on the bottle to call a plumber if it doesn’t clear after the second attempt to clear the drain. The stuff fizzed and buzzed and kicked-up a great storm of gas. That was to my liking because it suggested that the NaOH was working. Sarah unfortunately had to use the bathroom and the gas nearly dissolved her lungs. I returned a few minutes ago to check on my work.

The tub was filled with grime and the drain was empty. I turned on the tub in a moment of truth and … it was clearly still clogged. The water just filled up the drain and didn’t go back down. I’m leaving for Toronto in an hour. I guess I won’t get to take a shower.

Posted by Dan Housman at 07:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Last night we cooked dinner with some remnants of the four day weekend. I am looking forward to seeing zucchini, squash, rice pilaf, and hot dog on the cover of Gourmet magazine next month. After the grilling was done we were mostly left with the remnants of the vegetables. The fridge still is full of corn and asparagus. What’s for dinner tomorrow? Maybe corn, asparagus, rice and hot dogs.

On Saturday we visited Gloucester with Matt and Kate. When we arrived they were both hard at work mowing or chopping weeds somewhere on the property. We then sat, grilled, and chatted until Hattie and Jose arrived. Hattie mentioned that she had brought the regular desert and I told her that I was excited to eat her Rice Krispie treats before she informed us that the regular desert was apple crisp. We had brought some beers. I had planned to swim but it isn’t an easy proposition in Gloucester with the rocks and the cold water so I just walked around the rocks with Madeline up high on my shoulders.

I spent Sunday chasing girls and getting chased by girls in the pool. The girls were between two and five years old. It started when I threw some of the beach balls into the detached hot tub area, not hot, and we made a game of throwing the balls back and forth. The hard part was that the wind was strong enough that often a good throw would go far off to the left or the right. I suppose I was chasing more beach balls than girls. The other men were building PVC cannons and guns to launch potatoes into the air. I was more interested in floating a few inches beneath the surface of the pool. We were awaiting a storm advertised on the Internet with hail the size of golf balls that never arrived. At some point the kids and mother’s made home made ice cream in a ball from REI that gets super cold when you roll it and put salt and ice into it. Madeline enjoyed sucking down the bottom of the cone and munching on the sweet sugar honeycomb shell at the base.

We drove down to Marshfield for Sunday and Monday nights. On the way I was diverted to Home Depot to purchase a cover for the riding lawn mower because it was trapped in the mud. Dad was worried it would get rained on and rust when the hail storm that was supposed to come finally came. It didn’t. Monday was a good day to sit by the pool. Sarah’s friends came by including Jeff, Meredith, Matt B., Sarah K, and Sarah K’s sister. In their twenties there had been all sorts of drama among this crew of people with Jeff cheating on my wife, Sarah, with Sarah K. but now people were just floating in the pool having let the drama of their twenties out like a bunch of cooked vegetables. Matt got to drinking more than most and had an odd comment about everyone’s siblings but mine. I was too busy in the pool hiding under the water to notice. Jeff and I managed to move the lawn mower trapped in the mud. The new Mosquito Magnet my dad had bought had collected a few thousand bugs but it didn’t stop a few thousand more from launching out of the mud when the mower moved to attack Jeff and me.

Hattie and Jose came by on Tuesday afternoon. Hattie brought thousands of her famous rice krispie treats to appease me. I had liked the apple crisp. We talked about their upcoming marriage and having kids. It’s hard not to talk about kids when you have one. Not long after they arrived and we had eaten our grilled salmon steaks the torrential rain came down upon us. So we ran about putting away the umbrellas and hid inside to watch the downpour.

We took 3A home and the traffic was surprisingly light for a holiday weekend on the way home to Brookline. When we got home we had to unpack everything and drag those vegetable remnants back inside. The extra tax bill where the government had rejected some portion of our return was waiting for us as was the real estate tax bill that needs to be paid by August.

Gemini was sick from the beginning of the weekend acting lethargic and without her trademark constant bark. Sarah K’s sister was the new person on Monday and is studying to be a veterinarian. She looked at Gemini but I never heard the results. Gemini would barely be able to walk from inside the house to outside to pee so she just lay next to her food and water. She got the extra hamburger and some extra chicken. By Tuesday night, July 4th, my parents had taken her to an animal hospital. Mom said that the vet was clinical at first, letting my parents know that they could keep Gemini for observations, but the cancer was very far advanced. My mother asked if the vet would recommend euthanasia and that was the recommendation. So my parents were quite sad when I dropped off Madeline on Wednesday morning because they had just put a loved one to sleep. I gave my mom a hug but I wasn’t sure how to comfort them.

This weekend my family, parents and sister, are driving together up to Toronto to view the unveiling of my grandparents’ tomb stones. Sarah will stay home in Boston with Madeline. With death floating around I get to thinking that death is a great reminder to live fully and not waste healthy days. If there is something I want to do or see I should do it or see it without worrying about the wrong stuff, the reasons why not to do or see things.

I got another little dose of death by watching the Bukowski documentary Born Into This. Sarah wasn’t very interested in the file so she went to read the sequel to The Devil Wears Prada in the bedroom. The end of every documentary is usually the protagonist wasting away from a stroke or cancer. Maybe Hunter S. Thompson shot himself to avoid those slow dying scenes in his documentary. I was struck by a good poem during the movie that made me remember why I have recently come to fear Anne Coulter and her many raving fans.

The genius of the crowd

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

by Charles Bukowski

Posted by Dan Housman at 05:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)