Dogs and Cats Living Together! Mass Hysteria!


So, the getting adjusted to the new household arrangement continues. Over the weekend, Boxer and I got a lot of stuff moved, rearranged, and put away. I will freely admit that the adjusting has been difficult. We have both lived alone for a long time. But I think we are doing fairly well, although there was that hilarious incident where I forgot to poke holes in the taters before sticking them in the oven and one exploded and I cried from shame.

I think the sharing sleeping space with another person is the hardest part. I find myself very conscious of the fact that he is there, and so my sleep isn't as restful as it might be. But as the days go by, I am getting used to it. Besides, Pele annoys him far more than she annoys me during the night, because she is madly in love with him and can't leave him alone. That or she is totally jealous, because she does like being between us.

OK, sleeping is getting better. And stuff is getting put away. And no major horribly irritating habits have raised their ugly head yet, or at least nothing I wasn't already expecting. And the one thing that I was most worried about seems to be a non-issue.

The boxer has not yet eaten the cat. In fact, they are now almost entirely tolerant - if not friendly - with each other.

We started out by having them totally apart. The door in the middle hallway was closed. The boxer got the living areas and Pele got the sleeping areas. We introduced them to each other once while the boxer was leashed. He was mostly curious; his little stub tail was just a wagging. Pele was unimpressed and whomped him on the snout several times and hissed and complained in her granny voice. She is a little afraid of him because he is so big and very playful. On Tuesday, I found a babygate at a thrift sale, and we opened the hall door and put the babygate there while we were awake, taking it down and closing the door at night while we were sleeping. We wanted no unsupervised visitation. Pele refused to come out and mostly stayed on the bed, while the boxer gazed at her with longing from his side of the great divide.

And then, Friday night, Boxer pokes me while we are watching tv and goes, "Look at that!" And there was Pele, perched on top of the babygate preparing to make an incursion into the living area. And - POP! - down she comes. The boxer is very curious. He just wants to sniff her. Pele is still unimpressed, and she makes her way over to the couch, where she again hisses and complains and whomps him over and over(Pele has no front claws, which might be a good thing in this situation). The boxer follows her around. He tries to sniff her while she hides under the kitchen table. But, he learns quickly that if she hisses, he should just back away. But we spent several hours of the boxer just sleeping on the floor and Pele sleeping on her princess and the pea cushion on the couch amid the great peace that only comes through ignoring THAT THING over there.

Last night we took the next step. We moved the babygate back even further, so that Pele's food and litterbox are inaccessible but there is freedom for both in the entire house, and then we went to sleep. Pele slept on the bed, and the boxer slept on the floor. There were maybe three moments of sniffing boxer and complaining Pele, once when she had to walk by him to get to the babygate and a couple of times in the morning when we were all waking up, but in general, a calm and peaceful night was had by all.

In fact, if she is sleeping somewhere beyond the babygate at any point in time, the boxer stands at the babygate and whimpers a little bit because she isn't there. It is both pathetic and endearing.

We still won't leave them entirely alone together while we are gone during the day. The boxer has a little sunroom in which to spend his time. And they may never be friends. I don't really care about that. But it does not appear that there is going to be any major issues (Please, Ceiling Cat!). Which is good, because I have a recipe for BBQ dog that I would prefer to never have to use.

Mercury Is in Retrograde

Moving hell just will not end, it seems! On Monday, Boxer called to check on the status of his Relo-Cube and was told it would be here Tuesday. So he reserved the UHaul for a Tuesday afternoon pick-up. We head off. We get the UHaul and as we are driving Boxer suddenly pulls into the gas station. I scoot in there, thinking there is something wrong with the truck.

There is something wrong, but not with the truck. ABF had called him to tell him that the cube wasn't actually in Waukegan yet. It was still in Wheeling. Their truck had broken down and they had to rent a truck, which they couldn't do until Wednesday afternoon.

Which is bad, as we had already rented the UHaul, and now needed to pay for a second day. We went home, and Boxer managed to actually get the UHaul into my driveway, which is an amazing feat as the driveway is very narrow. And I was all stressed out the entire evening and exploded a baked tater in the oven and cried. Poor Boxer! He would have to pick the weepy woman....

So, we are now hoping that the damn cube will be there earlier rather than later on Wednesday, because (1) we need to not have the UHaul for a third day and (2) we have tickets to a concert we badly want to see - Robert Plant and Alison Krauss.

So, ABF, skirt up and get that cube to where you said it would be, dammit!

The Move Is Almost Over

Well, the move is almost over. It has been an adventure, to say the least!

It began when I flew down to NC on Saturday. My plane was, of course, overbooked, and when I was checking in, it was suggested that is I could upgrade, I should or there was a huge risk of getting bumped. So I upgraded, and it was a good thing. At least 15 people were bumped from the flight, and another dozen on standby were SOL.

So I got down there, about 30 minutes late, and then Boxer and I went to Mimi's Cafe for a late dinner. And then home to meet the boxer, who seems to like me but is still learning to respect my authority. Hah!

Sunday was a day of packing. I was surprised that there was still so much left to pack! But thankfully, Boxer has a lot less crap than I do, so packing wasn't really horrible.

The truly horrible thing was the heat... It was hot and humid, nearly 100 every single day. Even with the central air on, it was hot.


On Monday, we went to pick up the truck and started loading it. We took things very very slow, as Boxer had a lot of steps and it was so hot, we were sweating buckets. But we got everything loaded, and on Tuesday morning, we hit the U-Pack place and loaded the cube. Boxer's stuff only filled about half of it. Then we dumped a lot of stuff at Goodwill, finished the cleaning, loaded up the car, and headed north.

The first day, we planned to go as far as Asheville and find a place to camp. But as we got near there, it started to rain. So we kept driving. Through the Smoky Mountains. Just into TN, we pulled off at a place that advertised camping sites by the river. But when we pulled in, it didn't seem like they were really open to the public. Seemed to be associated with a bunch of whitewater rafting places.

So, we said screw it and found a hotel in Newport, TN, and headed off for dinner. It turns out to have been a great idea to get a hotel room, as while we were at dinner, the skies opened, and water poured forth as if from a giant faucet.

Wednesday dawned bright and sunny, and we got back in the car and headed for Berea, KY. I chatted with my friend, and she gave us a couple of recommendations for campgrounds, and so we ended up at the Oh! Kentucky! campground, where we started setting up our tent.

Oh god.

As I was getting the tent unfolded and Boxer was getting the boxer attached to his tie-out, the boxer peed on the tent. Ack ack! So, we quick washed it, and continued with out set up. We were just about done, when all of a sudden, I felt something fly by my right ear. And then, I looked at the tent and went, "Why did someone just thrown pork and beans at us?" And then I went that isn't pork and beans!

It seems that a hawk had hunted a pigeon and eviscerated it in such a way that the guts sprayed over the tent. OMG! Disgusting. Stink. I cleaned it up with tp and water as best I could, while trying not to puke. Boxer was fairly grossed out, and I totally give him props for not insisting on throwing the tent away and hitting a hotel. The boxer was greatly enjoying his call of the wild snack, as he did manage to eat some of the bird before we had managed to get it all clean.

After that horrid event, we went to visit with my friends at their eco-dome (I will have a post on that soon) and had a wonderful dinner of garlic pasta with homegrown bok choy, oyster mushrooms, and other veggie goodness. And then we went back to try and sleep on our tent. It didn't work very well. First, some weird guy pulled up to our campsite, looking for someone in a yellow tent. That made me nervous. And then, the tent truly wasn't a four person tent as advertised, so there was no room for the boxer. And it was noisy. We ended up waking up about 5 am to interesting lightning, packed up, and hit the road.

The last day of driving went fairly well. Indiana is boring to drive through, but everything was going smoothly. We stopped at Fair Oaks Dairy and got some milk and cheese and had lunch. The only traffic we hit was, of course, in Chicago, what with all the major road construction going on.

We got back to the house in Waukegan about 3 pm. It will take some time to get everyone integrated. Pele is unenthused about the boxer. The boxer ate several apricot granola bars. We should be able to pick up the stuff from Boxer's cube on Monday afternoon or Tuesday. And then we got to get it all put away,

Man, it is good to be home!

Moving Frustration

As my many dear readers (all two of you) know, I recently moved from Foxboro, MA, to Lake Forest, IL. This has involved oh so many changes and adjustments - including getting used to living in upperclass-obtuse-topia, getting rid of a lover (be nice), selling the rollerskate, and other very stressful things. But of all the things I knew I would have to get used to, all of the changes, I never expected that I would have so much difficulty with grocery shopping.

Grocery shopping here is excruciating and involves multiple trips to supermarkets that are very far away. Yes, I know that there is a Jewel Supermarket and Don's Finest Foods (little boutique market) here in Lake Forest, but neither can really met any of my food needs. I am fussy about my produce and neither local option is acceptable to me (yes, I am a fruit snob). So, I end up heading south to Sunset Foods, which is ok, but fairly limited, west to Dominick's which is cheaper but the fruit and produce doesn't last very long, or even further west to Cub Foods, which has a good ethnic selection but is otherwise a crapshoot and about to besold to Garden Fresh locally (maybe I will get lucky there). I can also go even further south to Whole Paycheck and I even found a Trader Joe's, so at least I can get good frozen stuff. I certainly miss Russo's in Watertown. I regularly cry because I can't go to Russo's on a regular basis.

All in all, though, as much as I whine, I can get by, even if my diet is heavy on apples, which I don't much like. But what has really been bothering me is that I can't find yogurt here.

See, I have to really watch my sugar intake and most yogurts have too much sugar. In Boston, I used to get the Columbo Light, which was decent and low-sugar. Here, there is no Columbo. There is Dannon (full sugar and fat), Yoplait (ditto), and Stonyfield (ditto but with the added evil of inulin, which I am allergic to). Even going to Whole Paycheck is not a treat. Compared to the 100s of varieties at Whole Paycheck in Boston, there are only about dozen choices, many of which are soy or goat milk - almost everything has full sugar, full fat, and/or inulin.

I may have to breakdown and start making my own again.

Yes, yours truly makes yogurt. This causes a lot of surprise. For example, a lover was once visiting me at my place in Foxboro. While sitting at my kitchen table reading the newspaper, he looks up and goes, "What's that?" Well, that was my yogurt maker.

"You make your own yogurt?" This was said in a tone filled with both respect and surprise. But the look on his face was saying something different. That look said "What is this? Little House on the Praire? Has she fed me any of that stuff?"

But, I may just have to suck it up. Plain yogurt is no fun for plain eating; I generally use it only for cooking. But dammit, I need my yogurt fix!

Whine Whine Whine


so I have been getting complaints that I haven't posted.

Well, I haven't posted. Been packing. Been moving. Been cruisin' in Alaska. I just got back on Saturday night and got smacked by the flu-bug. And I absolutely must mow my lawn to avoid the over-four-inches-we'll-mow-it-for-you-$30-fine.

Yes, I rent and I have to mow my own lawn. *sighs*

Nevertheless, here we go!


As most of you know, I recently moved from the Boston area to the Chicago area. I had the bright idea that I would drive my car here, along with the help of mia madre and the vocal protestations of Leo and Pele while the movers hauled my other belongings. Things started off, well, a bit behind schedule. The movers didn't get there until almost 4 pm, wherein they informed us that they were not getting there Monday as agreed, or Tuesday as renegotiated, but Wednesday evening - late. Bastards. So, mia madre and I ran to a friend's house, booked a hotel, and hit the road about 6 pm.

Things went well. I drove for the first few hours, booking it through the Berkshires. We stopped at one of those tollway oasii for dindin. Mia madre had some sort of Philly-ish cheese steak thingy from D'Angelos and I had a 2-piece pizza deal from Papa Gino's. Not bad not bad. I have certainly eaten worse roadside food. But it must not have held me, because not long after we went past an oasis in New York State, where they had Hebrew National Hotdogs.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love Oscar Meyer Natural Casing Weiners as much as the next girl, but I worship Hebrew National. Truly, they do answer to a higher authority! I was sorely tempted - but knowing we had umpteen hours of driving to go, I was strong and drove past the stand.

About midnight, I got exhausted and mia madre took over driving. That woman was meant to be a long-haul truck driver, I swear! She can go. And drive and drive and drive. Of course, after our early stop at the oasis, we existed primarily on coffee and diet soda. I attempted to sleep with the aide of my friend Benadryl and managed some catnaps. In the wee hours, we hit Cleveland, and were in great need of a bathroom as the result of our enourmous fluid intake.

Cleveland is the cruelest city. At 4 am, there are open gas stations but they won't let you in to use the bathroom. I guess I look like a robber or some such. It didn't help matters any that Citibank put a stop on my credit card fearing that my many gas purchases along 90/94 were the result of identity theives moving west at a rapid pace.

Finally, we hit Indiana and relief. A bathroom and an Egg McMuffin. I love Egg McMuffins. So sue me.

So, I took over driving again, and at about 9 am, we were 40 miles from Chicago. I was so totally psyched! We were going to be to LFC by 11! I would have keys! The cats would get out of kitty jail! Mia madre could find a comfortable resting surface!

And then?

We went from 75 mph to 0. Dead stop. Everyone at a dead stop. No movement. Nothing on the radio. Just dead in the water. And I am almost out of gas.

What to do? Sit there and idle in hopes that it clears out quickly? Shut down and hope that the car starts up again? Keep in mind, it is already 92 degrees at 9 am - I of course electing to move during the worst heat wave since 1995 and in a car with no air conditioning. Finally, we decide to pull into a truckers' sleeping area (illegally), shut the car off, and get the cats into the woods, where at least there was some shade.

I went around and begged water from some nice fellow travelers (thank you, oh kind strangers). And there we sat. For three hours. Yes, three hours - no food, little liquids, and the temperature going up and up. Finally, it looked like things were moving again. We pulled out of the sleeping area to find it was all a cruel joke. Things were moving but at about 3 mph because there was such a bottle neck. Did I mention I was almost out of gas?

So, we hooked an illegal u-ey (on a tollroad nonetheless), went 38 miles back to South Bend, begged forgiveness of the nice tollboth lady who waved us through (have I mentioned people in the Midwest are kind?), hit the nearest gas station, drained their tank (so many people getting gas because of the jam that tank was running on fumes!), a bag of ice to stick inside the cat jail (makeshift ac), and headed north into Michigan. We went looping around the Lake, into Chicago via the South Side, onto Lake Shore Drive, and onto Sheridan and from there up to LFC.

We made it there at 4 pm. My god. Truly, the trip from hell. I almost had heat exhaustion. Neither of us had had much sleep in nearly 24 hours.

Let's just say we greatly enjoyed the hotel ac.

Well, long story short. The movers didn't get there until Saturday - four days late. And I will never ever do anything like this again. And I most certainly will be looking for a car with ac asap!

Oh! And what caused the traffic jam you might wonder? One of those truckers that took the long journey with us fell asleep not four miles ahead of us and drove into a minivan, killing himself, a 30-something woman, her mother, and her two young children. Awful. Just awful. Picture is above. I am so thankful it wasn't us, because it easily could have been ...

In the process of moving. And then cruising.... pictures and stuff galore when I return!