We have ants in our house. Annoying little beasts that just keep multiplying the more I kill them. And I do kill them; with gusto. I used to feel guilty about this - enjoying the deaths of multiple living creatures - but I've gotten over the guilt and go after them with the violence and single-mindedness of a hired assassin. And they keep coming back. Tomorrow I will vacuum and scrub all my floors, then seek out their lair with a can of Raid and a mission.
This past week we had company in town. My sweet Texas Toad came to visit with her family, including my fantastically adorable godbaby. We tried to show them the glory that is Kentucky - the rolling green hills, the Ohio River, walking the Purple People Bridge, the world's largest Walmart...we wanted to get them to Big Bone Lick State Park, but alas, we failed. And it is a shame, really. Everyone should be able to say they've visited Big Bone Lick. IN fact, I plan to add to my list of stuff to do before I turn 40: "Take a picture of myself next to every sign in Northern Kentucky that features the word 'lick'." Absolutely. Add the term "bone" and we have a true winner. (And before all you prehistoric biology freaks attack me, yes, I do know the origin of the name of the park, I understand it, but honestly - you cannot combine the words "big", "bone", and "lick" in a name and not expect some flack.) Anyway, we spent a lot of time sitting around talking, playing Skip-Bo (not enough Skip-Bo, actually), eating. Pretty much what we did when we lived near each other. It was quite lovely, really. Made even more lovely by the omission of that Cincinnati bizarreness, Skyline Chili. Everyone says I should make sure my visitors taste that, as it is a special treat only available in this area. I beg to disagree. I believe whoever made up the recipe just kept adding ingredients because it just "didn't taste quite right". And it just kept getting worse. I refuse to eat it, why would I subject my sweet friends, who are only here for a week, to such a frightening concoction? I did, however, treat them to Graeter's. That did indeed go over well.
Speaking of food, my darling girl cat will not eat. My mother moved in with us a year ago, and at first all the cats (she had two, I have three) got along well enough, but then her younger male started antagonizing my oldest male, causing him to exhibit the problems indicative of extreme anxiety in cats (look it up, I am not going to list the voiding issues of cats under pressure). We isolated him for a few months and he did well, but then Mom's cat started antagonizing my girl cat. He would chase her every time she went to eat. We isolated her cat, but my girl cat has not started eating again (this has been going on for 2 months now.) We have visited the vet, but we are not getting answers. Only I could have cats with extreme psychological issues. Apparently they need some antidepressants, too.
I find this evening I am more chatty than usual. If you've made it this far through my rambling narrative, congratulations. I would give you a cookie if I could. It is way late, and I am sleepy.