Slice of Life: Cat Food Division

Our cats are very demanding about their food.  They’re both little furry alarm clocks that may go off as early as 5 am and start crying like they’re starving to death the second you get home from work… even if you only had a 1/2 day are home by noon.  They also know what our real alarm clocks mean so they get extra excited when those goes off in the morning.


This morning though…. silence.  Matt and I both looked at each knowing this was suspicious.  I went downstairs and found Schmutz waiting at the front door, hoping I would let her out onto the porch.  Not yowling, not scolding me, not racing to her food bowl, but waiting quietly.

HIGHLY suspicious.*

I turn into the dining room and find that the cat food bin was tipped over… which had popped the latch… which had opened the lid… which had spilled food all over the floor… which had allowed the cats to gorge themselves.  Spencer was still inhaling food off the floor.

The most disturbing thing about all of this?  They learn, like the raptors in Jurassic Park.  Our sealed food bin may never be safe again…

God help us when they figure out how to open doors.


UPDATE: They’ve learned how to open the latch on the food bin!  We noticed the latch was undone in the middle of the day and I know I had fully closed it in the morning.  Matt turned the bin around so the latch was against the wall and later we noticed Schmutz nosing at the hinges, searching for a weak spot apparently.  I don’t know how long we can continue to outsmart them….

UPDATE #2:  …apparently not for that long.  If the bin isn’t pushed all the way against the wall, Schmutz will squeeze her way into the gap so she can get to the latch and then get her snack on.  No wonder she’s turning into a bit of a pudge.


*Anyone who’s known Siamese knows it’s highly suspicious when they’re quiet about anything.  A year ago Schmutz was pretty sick and when we first took her to the vet we listed one of her (several) symptoms as “she’s being really quiet.”

Slice of Life: Astronomy Division

So tonight there’s supposed to be a Harvest Moon/Super Moon/Lunar Eclipse, but I apparently fail at life and Matt called me on the way home from his board meeting to remind me.

Matt: So the eclipse is just starting

Me: I can’t see the moon!

Matt: Well of course you can’t, it’s being eclipsed*

Me: I even looked up what direction the moon should be in and can’t see anything! I’m so bad at astronomy that I can’t even find the moon!**

Matt: Um, ok then.  I’ll just head home then.

Once he did get home he dragged me across the street to where you could actually see the moon and, despite the light pollution of living in St Paul (and it being a lot smaller than I expected for a Super Moon), it was pretty cool. And it really did turn reddish near the end… and that’s when we went inside because we’re totally not astronomers.  Obviously.





*He thinks he’s funny, and sometimes he is…this was not one of those times

**This is pretty true. Don’t even try to point out constellations to me.  I’ve spent several summer evenings sitting in a hot tub with friends and making up my own dam constellations like Jump Roping Kangaroo and Two Headed Sloth.  This is was in high school so there wasn’t even any alcohol involved, although we did skip Senior Ball in favor of the hot tub, a tea party, and a Monty Python Flying Circus marathon so it’s entirely possible our families and fellow students thought we were doing drugs.

Slice of Life: Friction (or lack thereof) Division


Matt: You love our stairs.

Me: I hate our stairs; they tried to kill me this morning!  And that goofy mini landing that I said I was indifferent to last night? I changed my mind.  I like it, it tried to save me.  Also, I hate being thirty.

Lesson learned for the day: socks and wood treads do not mix.  Especially first thing in the morning.  Thankfully (?) I was slightly twisted as I went flying (falling with style?) so I didn’t bounce down on my tailbone, but rather my left butt cheek.  I’m now sitting on an ice pack and Matt just pointed out we have a 3 hour car ride ahead of us this afternoon.  Joy…

We also currently have a plumber in our basement replacing our main water shutoff so hopefully we can finally get our tub faucet replaced since it’s leaky as all hell.  We got it into our heads to try and do it the night before we left for Europe (are we brilliant or what?) but didn’t get anywhere since there’s not a shutoff right at the tub and we couldn’t get the basement one to budge (and were concerned about breaking it since it was pretty old). Fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong since this week has been pretty beastly already.


Update: I was all disappointed because before we left I check myself out in the mirror and nothing!  Not even the vaguest hint of a bruise.  Sooo disappointed!  If I was going to be in this much pain I wanted something to show for it!  Then we went to Wausau, we weddinged it up with my family (there is now, unfortunately, photo and perhaps also video evidence of me doing the Macarena.  Beware the open bar….).  I couldn’t sit comfortably all night.  Then we got back to our hotel room and I discovered I now had a giant-ass bruise.  A giant-ass ass bruise if you will. It’s like the size of my hand and almost entirely dark purple.  It’s the most impressive and horrible looking bruise I have ever gotten and I can’t even show it to anyone without being indecent! I just dissolved into giggles at this point.  My sister and brother-in-law were in the hallway at this point because they had managed to lock their 2 year old in their room* and were probably wondering what in god’s name we were up to.


*Believe it not this is becoming a trend at weddings we attend.  You have adjoining rooms and some well meaning parent bars the main door so the child can’t wander out when they can’t see.  Child then closes the adjoining door (or babysitting grandparents go to sleep) and you can no longer get in through the main room door since the extra latch is in place.  Good times.

Slice of Life: Arachnophobia Division

This conversation just happened via text today:


Me: And by infested I mean I found one on my car

Matt: Yikes

Matt: But I’m on hold with Century Link

Matt: So I’m in a worse spot than you

I may or may not have danced around the Target parking lot waving a shoe menacingly at my car.  Also spiders and ISPs both suck.

Slice of Life: Real Estate Division

Me: We missed our chance!

Matt: For what?

Me: The F. Scott Fitzgerald house is for sale!

Matt: Really?

Me: It’s even under a million!

Matt: Well it is just a rowhouse.

Me: It’s huge! It’s 3,441 square feet!

Matt: Really?

Me: YES! It’s bigger on the inside!


Matt: The Summit umbrella really bothers me.  I like Summit and all, but you know who didn’t? F. Scott Fitzgerald.  You know why? Because he was dead.