I Can’t Believe I Touched That...

Today’s title comes to us from pretty much everything John and I have dealt with in the past two days. We have finally gotten our lazy assets into gear, and realized that: “yes, we ARE leaving TOMORROW!” The worst thing, even despite the bathroom and behind the fridge, was, without a doubt, the fermented vat of cat-crap-wine.

Uh, yes- even the phrase brings a fresh surge of revulsion.

You see, when we move I like to set up “new” and “innovative” and “smart” ways to run the house, and last time we moved I decided it would a good idea to start putting the bagged cat-litter scoops in the trash can outside, thus saving them in a comfortable OUTSIDE environment until each garbage pick up day.

WRONG... NO THANKS FOR PLAYING.

In fact, it rained shortly after that first week or two, and no body wanted to go fishing for THAT. Thus, three years later, we had about a month worth of cat crap saved in a sealed trash can that filled with rain water THREE YEARS AGO. Yesterday, I had to, finally, fish it out. Swamp water is the closest way I can describe the smell, but even that is too weak. You’ll just have to try it yourselves to truly get the picture.

Boy, that was great experience- especially the new forms of hyper-coloured moulds and fungi.

So, now, we have only laundry and some dishes left, and tomorrow AM we hit the road for Waterloo- never to return to dismal Hammieville. I’ll keep in touch, but our new Dell doesn’t arrive until next week, and our internet may not be hooked up until Sept 1, so it may be a while.

So, I hope you all take care, and expect a post card in the mail- it’ll be the one signed “GLAD I’M NOT THERE!”