It's an abomination, I tell you!

One of the toilets in my new house (which we have not moved into yet) has one of these.  Now call me silly but if you give me choices for the toi toi, explain those choices to me!


Being raised with the idea that a strong flush was to be admired, this is confusing to me. I thought the idea was to take anything deposited in the uh .. bowl .. and whoosh it away quickly and without leaving any um .. residue .. behind. Behind. Heh. But from what I have read (yes, I googled my toilet) there are 2 buttons, one for liquids and one for solids. I know, right? But the 2 buttons do not say anything on them and I cannot tell the difference when I flush it. My daughter and I stood there and flushed it both ways and ended up walking away shrugging our shoulders. 


The interwebs said that for "dual flush" toilets the bigger button is usually for solids. But somewhere else I read that the blue button is for solids. 


This may be something I can't do. Environmentalists - I'm freaking sorry. But I might have to send away to Canada which I hear still sells the large tank, awesome flushing, water wasting toilets - and have one sent down. A toilet just shouldn't be .. dainty .. about flushing.


I've been know to tell people "you have to pick your battles".  This may be one I have to fight.




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Self defense

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I read about doing this somewhere. While I am waiting for my weapons grade ant killer to arrive in the mail, I still have to feed the cats. And since I am not going to go around and spray the cracks and crevices they are coming out of for now, I have to find alternatives. NOT leaving cat food out during the day is simply not an option.
So - cat food meets the pie plate.





The theory being that ants can't swim, although I'm not convinced mine can't, if I keep a moat of water around the bowl that holds the food, they will not invade it. Cats will just have to get used to it.




Doesn't seem to bother Riley.

And as for the ants that wander in - well, this baby won't be put away for a while.





Survival of the fittest. Or the thinking-est. Or somethin'.

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Bring it on!

My tree is not finished. My Christmas tree, that is. I am obsessive about all of it, from the lights to the ornaments to centering the tree in front of the window. It's crazy really, I have no business having a tree this size in the house I live in, with mostly grown kids. There are no toddlers running out in the morning all sleep tousled and wide eyed at the spectacle of tree and presents and the miracle of Santa.

The only one wide eyed at my house, is me. And I love my tree! It just takes me a while to get it done. Yesterday I got the tree itself up, the lights on and most of my "base" ornaments. Because you know, there is an order to all of this. Lights, then garland, this year I used strands of big pearl-like beads, then the glass ball ornaments, the glass icicles, and then all the other stuff. And there is a lot of 'other stuff'.

By the time I went to bed last night my hands and my back were aching, but the tree being on a timer - I could see the glow from my room and I was happy. Until I heard my son on his way to the bathroom saying "Cat? Are you in there?"

Andy doesn't talk to the cats. Andy pretty much just ignores the cats, except Norah. He will pet her every once in a while if she puts herself right in front of him at petting level. But for the most part Andy and the cats just co-exist in my house. For him to be addressing a cat directly was worrisome so when I called out to ask what was going on - I was already half out of bed. He thought one of the cats might be in the tree but he wasn't sure.

We both stood there and squinted but nothing moved so Andy continued on to the bathroom. Then the tree gave a little quiver. I knew exactly which one it would be so when I said "Abby . ." very firmly, the tree shook some more. When I said "Abby get out of there!" I saw the tremor move down the tree and a cat plop out onto the floor.

Abby is the evil one. The one who bites. And she is also the one that people would vote most likely to climb a Christmas tree, so I knew it was her. Following her exit I pointed the spray bottle at her. The holiday wars have begun.