I Love Kittens

Volunteering at the Bottle Baby Nursery for Austin Pets Alive poses challenges for sure: avoiding getting ringworm while making sure the kittens affected get plenty of food and love; suffering through the very few kittens who just don't make it; washing dirty bottles and dishes by hand - just like at home; finding occasional fleas; finding occasional worms (shudder); kittens with the equivalent of diaper rash; and sometimes the sheer volume of hungry kittens EEEEEEEEE-ing at me to be fed right now!

The rewards of caring for these helpless feline orphans far outweigh any challenging situations. I love: the twitch of kitten ears as they suckle happily from a bottle of Kitten Milk Replacement; hearing tiny purrs; watching strong kittens romp and play with each other; seeing fat kitten bellies; watching kittens who recover from various maladies at the nursery flourish into beautiful, healthy, adoptable kitties; squee-ing over all the cuteness; petting soft baby fur; burping kittens after their bottle; and the most rewarding of all, knowing that I help to save kittens from being killed at the shelter simply because they are too small for round-the-clock care at the understaffed, limited resources, city-run shelter.

While I do love kittens very, very much, please spay and neuter your pets to prevent pet overpopulation and the subsequent killing of pets. Encourage your friends and family to spay and neuter their pets. Adopt your next pet from a shelter or rescue group. Say no to disreputable breeders.

Hopeless Kitchen

I met with our favorite handyman this morning to consult on the possibility of installing an automatic dishwasher in the 1952 House. Sure. We can have a dishwasher. Installing the dishwasher will involve completely ripping out the kitchen cabinets - upper and lower, removing the counter top and backsplash, rewiring all the electrical work in the kitchen, installing a kitchen disposal, and possibly replacing two windows and moving the back door. Did I mention that our charming 1952 House features layers of lead paint and has asbestos shingles on the exterior which will require special hazardous materials allowances?

Um... no thanks. I don't have an extra $20,000 (or more) sitting around to do that just now. I also don't want to deal with the three-month (if we're lucky) dustbowl of a complete kitchen remodel at this juncture.

I'll just get the oven fixed for now. (Assuming that the oven can be fixed - fingers crossed!) That will be plenty fancy. When I'm feeling super-ambitious, I'll repaint the walls in the kitchen. Super-fancy!

Irrational Rash

These hives flair and recede at will. I have new bumps on my wrists and the front of my hands. The bumps on my arms come and go with no discernible rhyme or reason. The backs of my knees and my earlobes still itch from invisible, phantom hives.

Overall, the hives are less itchy and less prevalent than they were at the peak of my allergic reaction to nine doses of Cipro. I am still drained of energy after the gradual step-down dosing of steroids. There is a scared, hysterical, irrational part of me that feels like I will never be normal again. My rational inner voice tries to reassure that drugs can stay in one's system for weeks, and that this too shall pass.

Meanwhile, I haven't been to the gym for three weeks. (Gasp!) I did lots of volunteer work while on the steroids - close to twenty hours in one week. Post-steroids, I logged only four hours volunteering this week. I did a dinner theatre show where my old-lady romance writer costume mercifully covered most of my bumpy, irritated skin. Post-show, I slept for nearly twelve hours.

This is not fun. I'm ready to be healthy again, please.

Crash

I took my last steroid pill yesterday morning. I'm still a bit itchy, but the hives are slowly leaving.

Just say no to drugs, kids! Especially if you're allergic to them.

I'm now experiencing the post-steroid crash. I've been sleeping and then sleeping some more. I've been having strange dreams too. I'm a bit achy all over as if I have the flu, but it's a tired ache; not an exertion ache.

The past three weeks have not been fun between the original bacterial infection, the allergic reaction to the medication, the steroid rush, and now, the post-steroid crash.

I look forward to being healthy and presentable (hive-free) soon!

Steroids!

I'm on steroids, and wow!, am I getting a lot done! The house is sparkling clean!

Don't report me to the authorities. I have a prescription. My hives are slowly shrinking and getting less itchy in response to these wonderful steroids. The only downsides are that I feel like my head is vibrating, it's hard to sleep and I have a little heartburn. Small prices to pay to be free from the hideous hives and their relentless itchiness!

Ugh.

Raspberry, the kitten, and one of her siblings, Rigatoni, have moved on to Kitty Heaven. I'm sad that they fought to breathe for many days, but ultimately didn't make it. I take a tiny comfort in knowing that they aren't in pain or distress anymore. Their other four siblings are gaining weight and nursing from their mama-cat now. I hope the other four kittens grow up to be healthy cats in fantastic forever-homes. Their sweet mom, Emma, also deserves a great home. She's been so nice to all of us at the Bottle Baby Trailer as we handle her babies and shuffle her in and out of the saline-mist-tent.

On the bright side, I got to feed lots of adorable, healthy kittens at the Bottle Baby Trailer this afternoon. Purr...

My rash (from taking nine doses of a medication to which I'm apparently very allergic) continues to worsen. There are hives all over me: on my legs, on my arms, on my tummy, on my back, on my posterior, in my ears, on my scalp, in my nostrils and possibly in my throat judging from a suspicious tickle and mild cough. Hopefully when I see the doctor tomorrow, he can give me something to make this better. Come on, Cortisone shot!

Say a Prayer

Tonight at the Bottle Baby Trailer, little Raspberry struggles to breathe. Weighing just 180 grams, this tiny kitten has a respiratory infection. The fine volunteers for Austin Pets Alive (myself included) are doing all we can to help this little fuzzy soul: using a baby aspirator to suck goo out of her nostrils, putting her in a tent with a nebulizer of saline solution, feeding her Kitten Milk Replacement with a dropper. I had the midnight to 2:00 AM shift, and hated to leave for fear that she'll stop breathing; not that I could do anything more than I did to help her. I hope that the volunteer going in at 8:00 AM finds Raspberry breathing and well-rested, along with her other five siblings and her mom, Emma.

Itchy

Last week I went to fill a prescription for Cipro to treat a suspected bacterial infection. The pharmacist, who was sporting a mesmerizing, sparkly, orange manicure, asked if I knew if I had any drug allergies. Nope. Got my Cipro and started taking it as directed Thursday evening.

Friday morning I awoke to find a few itchy bumps on my elbow. Fearful that I might have contracted ringworm (despite taking many precautions) from feeding tiny baby kittens at the Bottle Baby Trailer for Austin Pets Alive, I had Chad inspect the bumps. Chad has no medical training, but has seen people who have ringworm. Nurse Chad said that the bumps appeared to be little bug bites.

Saturday morning I found a few bumps on my knee.

Sunday morning I found a bump on my wrist.

Monday I spent three hours on the road to and from San Antonio for a commercial shoot that lasted fifteen hours. As Monday progressed into the wee hours of Tuesday, I felt itchier and itchier, with bumps multiplying seemingly exponentially. When I finally arrived home at 3:00 AM Tuesday, I took my Cipro with a tragically unhealthy dinner of a giant cinnamon roll and a glass of milk. I also decided that maybe I should read the three page warning document that came with my Cipro prescription. Guess what? Some people have severe allergic reactions to Cipro expressed in many forms including rash and hives.

Tuesday morning, while I got some much-needed shut-eye, Nurse Chad scheduled my doctor's appointment. He drove me to the doctor where we confirmed that I am very likely allergic to Cipro and that I do not have ringworm.

Now I'm drinking lots of water in attempts and flush out the Cipro. I'm taking oatmeal baths, swallowing the maximum recommended doses of Benadryl and trying to sleep so I can heal.

I'm also trying really, really hard not to scratch.

No Cupcakes for You!

Our temporary solution to the broken oven is to refrain from all baking/broiling activities.

I found the manual for the oven which dates back to 1999. It advises owners to contact a designated repair person to fix the oven. It also advises DIYers that improper repairs or improper attempts at repairs can result in explosion with possible injury or death. The foolhardy readers among you are now wagging your index finger at the screen, scoffing at me that the manuals just say that for liability reasons, and that you know just how to fix our gas oven that refuses to ignite. Thanks for your well-intended cheerleading, but we'll leave this one to the professionals.

Maybe I'll think about calling a repair person after Labor Day. Between the pest control guy, the nice arborist and tree trimmers, the excellent water heater plumbers and the over-scheduled city water heater installation inspector, Chad and I have been tethered to the 1952 house many days between the hours of 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM lately. We have things to do and places to go other than our own home: such as running to the bakery for stuff from their ovens.

Crud.

I broke the kitchen last night. I preheated the oven to make corn muffins to accompany vegetable plates. The oven did not get hot, but did stink-up the house something awful with the smell of natural gas. All pets evacuated to the backyard with me, but not before the front of the utensil drawer came off in my hand... again.

So I ask again (mostly rhetorically), why did we buy a house?

To Do Lists

Today:

• Vacuum
• Iron clothes from massive laundry attack this weekend
• Wash and chop veggies for dinner salad
• Moonlight kayak
• Walk Janie
• Water the wilting, sunburned plants

This week:

• Contact handyman about patching drywall in water heater closet
• Buy charcoal-grey paint for lower kitchen cabinets
• Paint kitchen walls and cabinets
• Go to IKEA. Be brave. Buy kitchen lights.
Seriously, do not get overwhelmed and leave IKEA without the kitchen lights.
• Maybe skip IKEA
• Paint water heater closet
• Install shelves in new linen closet/old water heater closet
• Read and recycle at least one magazine from growing stack of magazines

Someday:

• Get the one wonky pier and the one wonky beam under house repaired
• Have carport parking pad concrete either repaired or replaced with interlocking pavers
• When it's not 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, weed the planting beds & remove dead plants
• When it's not 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, dig out bad soil from planter and replace with excellent Ladybug soil
• When it's not 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, plant some fall stuff
• When it's not 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, clean out gravel/debris from the rain barrel

Idle Hands?

I'm back from five days visiting the five nieces and nephews on my side of the family, plus Mom and my sister and her husband. I'm just a wee bit tired after rollerskating, bowling, letting my seven-year-old niece drive me around the family farm in the Gator (she's an excellent driver, but the terrain was bumpy), back to homeschool supply shopping and general visiting.

While it was great to see my relatives, I'm happy to be back in Austin. I'm getting back into my daily routine of watering the plants, walking Janie, loving on the kitties, going to the gym, etc...

I'm getting back to volunteer activities with Austin Pets Alive: bottle-feeding tiny kittens and writing blog articles for cats available for adoption. I got an email last week that Austin Pets Alive finally has a building for a more permanent home; versus the series of trailers and pop-up tents that previously housed the veterinary clinic and some adoption facilities. The building needs lots of work including painting. I like to paint.

Do I paint my own kitchen this weekend? I have the supplies and it's been on my to-do list for a while. I can rest in the comfort of my own digs between coats of primer and paint. Or, do I volunteer to go paint the APA building where I can meet some new people and socialize a bit while painting? Hmmm...

Or, do I spurn my inner Puritan work ethic and take it easy and not paint anything this weekend? (Gasp!) There are lots of magazines in the living room that aren't going to read themselves between doing loads of laundry.

I'll ponder this further as I give Janie a bath. I love her, but she is super-stinky.

Good News!

We did pay a pretty many pennies for a new tankless water heater. The bill was the only bad news, but it could have been worse.

The good news:

We do not need new pipes. Hooray! (New pipes would have doubled today's bill.) We have good, sturdy, copper pipes.

Since the new tankless heater is mounted outside of the house, we have space for a linen closet where the old water heater tank lived. Add "patch drywall holes" and "build shelves" to the project list.

We will now have plenty of hot water, even when I want to take a bath in the winter. No more boiling water on the stove and toting it to the tub in a manner reminiscent of Little House on the Prairie. (No offense, Laura Ingalls.)

While the plumbing guys were here, they fixed the toilet. For the record, the plumber said my fix-it job a few months ago was done correctly, but that a different part was also worn out. I guess this trouble-shooting ability is one of the many reasons plumbers get a license instead of just watch youtube videos to learn how to do plumbing.

We are eligible for a federal tax credit for upgrading to a more energy-efficient water heater. The amount will be equal to about 40% of today's bill.

While the budget won't allow for any kitchen upgrades past new paint, at least the hot water will last longer as we wash dishes by hand. Maybe we can have a long weekend away this fall if it doesn't involve paying airfare.

Why Did We Buy a House?

We do indeed need a new water heater. We may also need a new pipes throughout the house, or maybe the plumber service guy just has a sales quota to meet. Since Chad and I are not licensed plumbers, we will not be attempting to install our own water heater. It's one thing to fix the toilet (only to have a different part of the toilet break months later), but an entirely different thing to deal with gas lines and water lines running into the same thingy-ma-bob that could go kaboom!

In light of the very necessary new water heater and possibly necessary total re-pipe job on the 1952 house, there will be no kitchen remodel. There will be no automatic dishwasher. I hope for the sake of our budget that there won't be any new kitchen appliances anytime soon. There will also likely be no fall vacation.

Prepare yourself for dizzying logic (and lack thereof) as I try to figure out what we were thinking when we bought a house.

Anyone who tells you that owning a home is cheaper than renting is a real estate agent and/or sorely misinformed. When I add the interest we pay on our mortgage, and how much larger our monthly mortgage payment is than any of our previous rent rates (two to three times more, seriously, and in one case for less square footage), and our ever-rising property taxes, and the amount of money and time we spend maintaining the house inside and outside, and the fact that now we pay all our own utility and cable bills (whereas rental properties usually covered some or all of those bills), my head hurts.

Chad feels renting is an unsettled and unsure way to live, because your rent rate can go up at the end of your lease, or the property owner can decide not to renew your lease. I never agreed with him until we were bribed out of our two-year lease at the posh condo after only thirteen months by a new owner. The location of the posh rental condo proved a deal-breaker when we had the opportunity to buy it - nestled on a freakishly steep hillside of one of Austin's most notoriously dangerous and busy roads. We also gained a bit too much insight into the condo mismanagement when the condo's property management company (allegedly) embezzled the entire reserves fund from the condo association and then declared bankruptcy. Phew! Dodged a bullet there!

As mortgage-payers (I can't honestly say homeowners for another twenty-some years), we can decorate, upgrade and paint knowing that we keep the fruits of our labor, for better or worse. (When I say worse, I'm thinking of the radioactive green paint in our kitchen. Its days are numbered.)

We get federal tax breaks which are pretty much wiped out or usurped by the property taxes. Of course, property taxes pay for local services, but most of those local services are also enjoyed by renters. So I guess that logic makes for some moot financials. Especially when I admit that mortgage payments and home maintenance costs are much higher than rent rates.

We can have more fur-children in our own home than if we were renting or living in a condo.

We have more room for parties. We should throw another party soon...

We have a washer and dryer here that only we use. No more trips down to an overcrowded laundry room or to the dodgy laundromat. Although the washer and dryer are in the carport and get dirty out there. Also, I have to put on clothes to go out there. No streaking to the laundry room for a fresh towel right out of the dryer.

We have a big yard that falls into both the pro and con list.

We're paying a premium for a few freedoms and benefits.

If there's any wisdom I can impart here, it's this: don't buy a house or condo until you are ready. Don't let anyone pressure you into buying a home with the argument that it's cheaper in the long run than renting, because it isn't. Have lots and lots more money saved than you think you'll need. And as my dearly departed dad liked to quip, "you can live in a car, but you can't drive a house."

Hot Water Heater Erupts

The ancient hot water heater at the 1952 House has erupted. Authorities are unable to pinpoint the actual eruption time, but estimate the occurrence sometime during the past week. Casualties include a Swiffer broom and several floor boards in the hot water heater closet. Residents thought the hot water heater was dormant. They were stunned to discover the soggy mess today. A leading professional in the field of hot water heater research will soon investigate the matter.

After existing peacefully with the hot water heater for several years, residents were lulled into a sense of complacency about the hot water heater, but now fear for the safety of their budget after this eruption. One resident said, "I'm sorry you had to discover that mess today. I'm not excited about spending the money, but if the service guy says we need a new hot water heater, then we'll get one." Stay tuned as this exciting story unfolds.

Blech

That's the sound I made often today. Blech. Stomach bug or food poisoning? Who knows? So far, Chad doesn't have any symptoms. Hopefully he'll be spared from whatever it was.

The misery started at 7:00 AM, and was mostly over by 10:00 PM when I requested a Diet Coke with a slice of lime and five Melba Toast pieces. Despite earlier attempts to rehydrate and refuel, the DC and Melbas were the first things to stay down.

A pattern is emerging that I have a cranky wreck day immediately before exhibiting unmistakable illness signs of the stomach variety. It's like my body is saying, "What? I tried to warn you. You should have bought some Saltines yesterday."

Bad Day Meet Haunted Toilet

In my reckless, overachieving youth, I did not sleep much. I had too much to do! Too much studying, too much socializing, too many chores, too many work hours and too many school-sanctioned extracurricular activities left little time for mere biological imperatives such as sleep. I am now paying the piper, or maybe the sandman, for all that missed sleep. In my middle-age, if I don't get at least seven hours of quality shut-eye, I'm a cranky wreck the next day.

Today was one of those cranky wreck days. Every little minor chore and annoyance magnified to colossal proportions in my sleep-deprived psyche. I won't bore you with all the gory details. The main made-me-want-to-cry moments involved the toilet (yes, the toilet I thought I fixed months ago, the ONLY toilet in our 1952 house) hissing repeatedly and loudly as air pressure met water somewhere in the tank. When I removed the toilet tank lid to investigate, I watched to floater ball bouncing up and down rhythmically as the water in the toilet tank did its best impression of a wave pool.

Clearly the toilet is haunted. I'm not sure whether to call a plumber or an exorcist.

I eventually got the toilet to hush by adjusting the floater ball a bit and turning off the water supply to the toilet until it calmed down. Later I turned the water supply back on for the tank. We'll see how long that little tweak keeps to toilet tank ghost at bay.

Incidentally, my next house will be brand-spanking-new with two bathrooms and other modern conveniences!

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Our neighbors' house is for sale. The sign went up in their front yard yesterday. They have been cool neighbors, so we're sad to see them go. We hope more cool people buy the house and move into it. If you ever thought you'd like to live next door to us, here's your chance!

We're hoping that the future owner of the house next door occupies the house. We aren't terribly keen on the idea of the house being a rental or of the house being leveled for an oversized duplex to be built in its place. Wish us luck!

How Much Longer 'Til We Get There?

When Chad and I moved into the 1952 house a little over four years ago, we thought we would be here for five to ten years. We wanted to make the house livable according to our standards and taste. We vowed not to do anything with resale value in mind, but instead to think of what we wanted and/or needed to be comfortable here.

Since Chad left his fancy-pants job to start his own business, our budget became a bit more restricted. We won't be "movin' on up (movin' on up) to a DEE-luxe apartment in the sky-hy-hy-hy" anytime in the near future, and definitely not next year. No Brown Building or Nokonah loft for us just yet. We will be very comfortably housed here.

Okay, comfortable in many ways except for kitchen activities. We have no automatic dishwasher. We wash and dry our dishes the old-fashioned way: by hand. The cabinets and countertop in the kitchen are not tall enough to fit a standard dishwasher. There's no plumbing or electrical work for a dishwasher. Though some previous owner of the 1952 house put in new tiles and countertop, the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen are original to the 1952 house. These cabinets and drawers have a certain charm, until you realize that each time you open or close a drawer, sawdust rains down on everything in the cabinet below. Tonight, as Chad washed and I dried dishes, I opened a drawer to put away some clean kitchen gadgets, and the drawer-face came off in my hand. We nailed the drawer-face back into place after I quit laughing semi-hysterically. I need to get the construction adhesive out of the shed tomorrow and cement the drawer-face back into place since the nails will only hold it for one or two more openings. The appliances in our kitchen date back to 1989. Sure, they all work. They are all white, thus matching in color, but no two appliances matching in brand or vintage. The microwave has a big crack in the doorframe, which Chad insists is fine, because the inner seal on the microwave door is intact. Nonetheless, I try not to stand anywhere near the microwave when it's running. Safety first!

We'll be living here a good while longer than we originally thought we would. I would really, really, really love to have a dishwasher, along with newer, safer, more energy efficient appliances all around. Accommodating a dishwasher would mean new cabinets and drawers, new countertop and backsplash too. In this case, it's necessary to throw the proverbial baby out with the proverbial bathwater, because you don't want to wash dishes in dirty bathwater.

If I had a crystal ball, and I could know for certain how much longer we will live in this sweet, old 1952 house, it would help me determine whether or not I want to invest the time, energy, inconvenience and money into remodeling and modernizing the kitchen here. Any closeted psychics out there, feel free to speak up!

I peruse the home project websites often, and came across this lovely kitchen designed by Erinn Valencich on the DIY Network's website. The tile backsplash matches the tiles in our bathroom too. I want to go to there.

Honk! Who Goes There?

Friend or foe? Or stranger? Or someone with a mild case of road rage? There are lots of motorists honking at, or near, the 1952 house, sometimes at the oddest hours.

Sometimes a brief "honk-honk" can be heard from the busy street adjacent to the 1952 house. Chad and I wonder if it might be friends giving a greeting to us or a neighbor. Sometimes a long "haaaaaawwwwwwnnnnkkkk" can be heard, likely expressing disapproval at a fellow motorist on the busy street, or perhaps to say, "woooo... it's 2:15 AM. I should NOT be driving!"

Sometimes when I'm out watering the plants at night, a motorist gives a short, sharp "honk!" Usually there are no other cars around when this happens. So I wonder if the motorist just wants to startle me as they barrel by me in the dark, breaking the speed limit, in a vehicle that outweighs me ten to twenty times over. Is it their way of saying, "I could run over you right now if I wanted to! Hahaha."?

Please feel free to wave at us as you drive by the house. Turn onto our street and say hello if you see us out in the yard, and you have a few minutes to chat. If you must honk at us or our house, we politely request that you give the approved brief "honk-honk" between the hours of 9:00 AM and 9:00 PM Central Standard Time. Failure to comply with these requests may result in a rotten tomato being lobbed at your vehicle or a one-fingered wave. (Obviously I'm kidding. I save the rotten tomatoes for the composter. Plus, I don't have the best pitching arm.)