I’m in Vancouver for business, which means that starting today, all that I’ll see is the inside of meeting rooms at the convention center. However I was able to get outside yesterday when Sister #2, Kangamoo, drove up with her two boys. OK, “boys” is a relative term, since one is old enough to drink and the other will be driving in a few years.
We had a video chat with Mama and 3B, who confirmed Mama’s report, saying, “I just learned to jump off the couch,” and then showed us how he can jump on the bed, hide, and play with my pocket watch. Then we walked along the water over to Stanley Park. We saw live crabs, dead crabs, lily pads, live fish, caught fish, and a small grove of totem poles.
Sister #2 and I, of course, talked the whole way over and back and all through dinner. I’m so glad that they were able to get across the border and come visit, especially since they didn’t get back home until 1 a.m. and Sister #2 had to be out the door to work by 7 a.m. this morning.
I wish that I could say that things were going so smoothly back at home, but this morning, I got this email from Mama, who refers to Barky as Ginger Rogers when he’s clattering his claws up and down our hall, and who’s singlehandedly continuing our battle against our neighbor’s cockroach infestation that’s spilling over into our place:
This is the way my morning begins at 6:00 am. The dog gets up to barf, after Ginger Rogersing around the house and waking me up 5 times last night. I lie in bed wondering what I should do. I need to react immediately – but then again – the damage is done…do I lie in bed and get it when I wake up? But that’s gross. And what if it starts to stink or stain the carpet. So, I get up. But without my glasses on I cannot find the barf. I hunt for it in the usual spots. No luck. But I can’t see very well.
Then, a cockroach skitters across the carpet in the kitchen and burrows into the mat on the floor. I head for a shoe. With a solid heel. Then the dog thinks we’re going out. He tanks up on water and starts hopping all around. I tell him to chill the fuck out. I beat the hell out of the cockroach and kill it. Then I have to pick it out of the carpet and throw it out. It’s 6:15 in the morning.
I resign to the fact that I am awake. I still cannot find the barf. Then another roach skitters across the living room carpet. Note to self – no more snacks in the tent. Note to self- no more snacks ever again. No eating ever again if only I can never see another one of those nasty little creatures. Sorry 3B – it’s Yom Kippur all the time now.The dog goes to sleep on the couch in his usual spot. The fan roars – I forgot to turn it off last night. And so begins the day. It’s pitch black outside. And I still don’t have my glasses on.I hope you had fun with Sister #2 and are having a good night’s rest – without Ginger Rogers and the Roaches. Kind of sounds like a band, doesn’t it?
Fortunately, I got this p.s. email
I put my glasses on. And turned on all the lights. And found the barf.I am happy to have found the barf.It’s the little things, you know?He is now trained to barf on the floor instead of the carpet.He’s smart.I need to call the vet…
So, there are worse things than being trapped in a conference room for a week.