God spelled Backwards

"Dog is God spelled backwards. That means something, I'm just not sure what exactly. But human is namuh spelled backwards."

- Marc-Cristophe

Happy Birthday, George!

Today is George's third birthday. At least, that's what I've decided. Last year around this time I decided that I was going to rescue (steal) him from the nasty woman who lived upstairs from me at the time. She didn't take care of him, and she let her son torment him constantly. Poor thing would be outside in the middle of the night in the dead of winter, crying at my door.

I had named him George when I first began seeing him outside my apartment. We bonded immediately. He has always been affectionate and loving. For a while, I would let him come in for a couple hours at a time, give him some food and water, and maybe even some nip. (As a result, I was soon known by all the neighborhood felines as the kitty drug dealer, and my patio became a popular hangout.) He would often curl up on the couch next to me as I graded papers or watched a movie. We were buds. Not having a litter box or a decent place for him to sleep (like that matters - he'll sleep ANYWHERE), I would have to put him out again eventually. I would feel awful every time, and he would stand at my patio door and cry. One night, my vertical blinds were crooked in one spot, and he peeked through the little sliver of exposed window, just his one eye showing, staring at me and crying. "I can still see you. . . can you still see me?"

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. He told me very clearly he wanted to live with me. I borrowed a litter box from my parents and set him up real nice in my office. But before I let him move in for good, I took him to the vet for a checkup and shots. That was one year ago today. Dr. Wendy said that George was perfectly healthy and "very handsome"! Yay! She also estimated his age as two years old. So, I decided to make St. Patrick's Day his birthday and mark today, officially, as his third birthday.

So, happy birthday George. Maybe as a gift, we'll get you a bigger box.

Quite the Bargain

We're ordering pizza and chicken for lunch at work today, thanks to the cuss cup in my manager's office. For $1 a swear word, apparently, you can say pretty much anything you want. No one is immune. Even managers in other departments know the rules, and they pay up - even if they are nowhere near the cup, standing out in the hallways. They all seem to get a kick out of it.

We seem to average about $30-$40 every two weeks. When we have that much, we order lunch.

I have to wonder if we're encouraging the proper priorities.

"Cuss all you want! We've got chicken!"

No better way to spend a rainy weekend

Steve and I just spent a wonderful weekend with friends, C and J, in Cincinnati. It was just the kind of break we needed. Even though it rained just about the entire time (it rained at home, too, so it wasn't like we were missing anything), it was a perfect weekend.

We stopped at PF Chang's on the way and enjoyed spicy green beans, which we decided we'll definitely have to try making at home. I had Mongolian beef, which was quite yummy, and Steve had lamb of some sort, which he loved. I tried it (gotta give me credit for that) but I just can't stand the texture of lamb. Or the idea of lamb. Ick. Anyway, dinner was a much needed hiatus after a long day at work and half the drive to Cincinnati. We arrived at C and J's beautiful home around 11:30 and stayed up unto the wee hours talking, laughing, and drinking wine.

The next day we managed to rouse ourselves around nine in the morning, had a delicious breakfast of sausages, eggs, toast, and fruit, and then headed out. We went first to the Krohn Conservatory and spent a while wandering around the lovely greenhouses. It almost made us feel like it was spring already. The air inside smelled sweet, and the sunlight lit up the place.

We then stayed in Mount Adams for lunch, choosing Guido's Lounge for their pizza and beer. We enjoyed the good food, good music, and good company until the sports fans and the basketball game on the big flatscreen drove us out. After lunch, we were all too wiped out to do much else. Realizing we're too old to stay up to the wee hours of the morning doing anything, and most of all drinking wine, we decided that movies and C and J's sectional couch sounded great. We rented In Her Shoes, which, as J had promised, turned out to be quite good, and deeper than most romantic comedies, and The Exorcism of Emily Rose, just to find out the latter didn't work. Back to the store it went, and we watched The Machinist instead. Twisted, disturbing fun.

Sunday we slept late. And by "we" I mean "me". I can't be sure how late everyone else slept because I was the last one up. But boy did it feel good to sleep in. We skipped breakfast and went straight to lunch, as late as it was, and ate at Claddagh Irish Pub. For a while, it stopped raining, all but maybe an occasional mist, and we took a refreshing walk. After that, Steve and I headed home with soup and chilli provided by J, which we feasted on later that night (very yummy!).

Thanks, C and J for a truly enjoyable weekend! You good people!

Now it's back to the daily grind. I leave you with photos from the conservatory . . .

A Breath of Spring Air

For those of us stuck in an Ohio March, and P, looking for some warmth . . .