I made my monthly trip to the big city grocery store yesterday, with a stop at Lowe’s and the store of licor.
I stopped at Lowe’s to get the wife a gallon of paint for continued work on the patio trim. As the weather cools, it’s likely she will be on top of that.
The grocery store still asked patrons to wear masks, and from what I saw, everyone did.
Lowe’s did not demand masks on its patrons, and about half and half with and without.
The liquor store had its sign up asking their customers to wear masks.
It’s about the business owners, and what they ask; not what the government ‘mandates’.
My cart was so mounded that I had to find nooks and crannies to stash my last round of meats.
The store was completely out of any type of canned tomatoes, except for Rotel, but one cannot live on Rotel alone. My favorite frozen cooked burgers are now a thing of the past. It’s looking more and more like the trend is to see shortages of some items, and likely will expand to other items as time goes on…plan accordingly.
The local grocery flyer came out yesterday, and lo and behold they boneless rib eye cry-o-vac roasts were on sale again for $5.99/lb.
I made a trip there this morning to get my fair share; a 12 pounder for around $73.
Upon my return trip home, I saw a little pickup parked in the ditch outside my property. I drove right up to it in the ditch, and talked to the guy, who was the San Antonio paper delivery guy. I had spoken to him before when my dad was around, he had known him. He said he was taking a break. Fine. He was a good ol’ country boy that had a drawl that was really hard to understand…remember the buzz cut guy on “King of the Hill?” something like that. I made it clear he could park whenever he wanted. He even gave me a paper…so I got that workin’ for me.
And now…the kittycat story…
If you follow my blog, you may have gotten the impression that I do not care for kittycats; any size, age, or color.
The wife has been after me to allow her to have an inside cat…NFW, or over my rotting corpse is my usual answer.
Now that we have some wild kitty cats that have popped up, she has taken it upon her self to feed them.
I said nothing, but felt that the squirrel population would indeed increase if the kittycats had no motivation to eat.
They had already depleted the number of birds by hanging out at the birdbath, and killing and eating any poor bastard that stopped in for a swim, drink, or bath.
Now she feeds them. Now they wait by the door in anticipation of getting fed.
The orange kittycat comes right up to the door when it’s opened, and the other day, it got inside.
The wife stood around talking to it like it was a child and would eventually obey her…NFW. It would not leave, and wandered around the dining and kitchen area.
So, I took it upon myself to “help” rid the house of the intruder, but using some canned air.
One pssst from the can, and that fucking cat went apeshit, bonkers, nutso, freaked out, insane…pick one.
That kittycat jumped vertically into the air 3 feet, then Super Kittycat, flew directly into the window on the storm door: twice without touching the ground.
After it landed, its paws were a blur trying to get traction on the tile floor. It ran under the kitchen table, and burst out the other side, bounced every so lightly on the edge of the couch, then slammed into the other kitchen window, before falling into the wife’s cactus pots on the window sill.
Its tiny paws still churning, in knocked off two potted plants as it skittered across the window sill, deftly avoiding the other cactii.
When it hit the floor, its paws were again a blur of 4 orange balls before it caught some traction, and zipped by me at near the speed of light, heading to the other part of the house, where it disappeared for hours.
The wife and I searched the house on and off for hours…flashlights…nooks and crannies, closing doors to block off rooms…nothin’.
We did not point fingers, as we were both to blame. She, for letting it in in the first place, and me, for scaring the ever lovin’ shit out of it.
I figured it would come out when it got hungry, as it did not eat.
The wife went through the house shaking the can of kittycat food; nothin’. Not even a meow.
Every house has a black hole. Things just get disappeared for no reason. When I was a kid, I put my transistor radio under the bed to hide it…gone forever into the black hole.
We looked all afternoon; nothin’.
I took my afternoon nap with one ear open, hoping not to awaken with the kittycat on my face sucking my lifeforce.
That night, when we were about 2 episodes into the latest binge watch of Stargate SG-1, we heard a meow from the kitchen. Another search yielded nothing, as it stopped as soon as we entered the kitchen area.
Back to watching TV, and again, another meow…and another…
The wife finally found it crammed into a tiny corner under the couch in the dining area…way back underneath.
After another hour of coaxing, she finally got it outside.
The wife will be going to Ft Worth soon. Perhaps a possum will eat the kittycat(s).
It could happen.