una otra gata por mas loco en casa

We Hogabooms have, shall we say, less than self-serving instincts.  Like the fact I am trying to convince my husband to buy this kind of dive-y (yet very affordable) house a block or so away.  Can we shift our life to include (the albatross of) a house that needs constant maintenance and work?  Do we want the responsibility of repair and the commitment to this geographic locale?  I’m not really sure. Yet the house we currently live in is as bland as a hotel in its wall treatments and bathroom and kitchen furnishings (two rooms I seem to care much about), and I’m bored of cleaning without being able to paint or commission from my mother a large, sci-fi octopus-inspired mural for the walls.  Right, I want to live in a place half-torn up with walls that need sheet rock and constant repairs that jockey for clothes for the kids or a vacation maybe once every five years.  This is how I grew up and how I grew up is one of the reasons I want to live a little differently.  And yet, We Shall See.

Secondly, my husband is currently in the midst of adopting a stray kitty, a little black number with long hair and a curious yet cautious demeanor (we’re calling her Snoop based on her proclivities for curious examination).  He “accidentally” fed her from our back porch and he casually has been leaving the back door open for her to come in and look about.  She (I’m not even sure she’s a female, but she seems to be one) looks about and ducks and makes these adorable sounds.  She reminds me of my little Blackstone, not three months gone, because she is black with white (secret!) bellypatch, and she is timid and lovely.  As I type this she ducks through my house making tiny interrogation-meows.  I suppose the next step is to put up some neighborhood flyers and a “Found” classified in the paper to make sure she’s not really someone else’s cat who is researching a perhaps sweeter deal.

Tonight my children were scheduled to stay over at my mother’s house.  Today our son beat the game “Plants vs. Zombies” and has been the manifestation of sheer joy over this accomplishment; yet his festive mood did not extend to staying away from the home.  Fifteen minutes ago he called and requested transport back to his own (our own) bed. I am glad for his company, for his husky voice and the way his hair smells and busying my morning while he sleeps in the bed, which is as Right as anything else feels.

Oh and if you read this, PLEASE GIVE MY HUSBAND a good deal of teasing over the cat thing. You can find him on Facebook or Twitter.

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