Sunday, October 17, 1999 - Kitty and Aleutia and Multiple Blowouts

We went for a walk nearly every day this week, for we’ve been having beautiful autumn weather. I like autumn. When I am pushing Victoria in the stroller, she points to the piles of leaves along the curbs, and instructs me, “Drive right there” because she likes to hear the leaves crunch under the wheels.


Monday evening, we made a Very Important Excursion to Wal-Mart to buy Caleb’s birthday present. We got him an electronic maroon car with motor noise, lights, anti-theft siren, etc., and a car wash set-up. Hester and Lydia got him a car garage to match. I also got a fat little black rubber flashlight and a package of socks for my mother to give him. Joseph got himself a new pair of shoes--black wingtips--for church; and Lydia got some new school shoes--she hasn’t had any yet, this year--navy double-T straps.

Monday evening, my niece, Susan Seadschlag, sent us a big pan of turkey enchiladas. They were absolutely scrumptious...but I thought we were supposed to be helping her! Susan has been well enough that she was able to attend the last few church services--something she wasn’t able to do for several months. Only a couple more months to go…

That night, Teddy brought Kitty home from Larry’s shop--and we couldn’t bear to part with her…so we now have a house cat. As I told you last week, we were concerned over just what our wolf of a dog might do to a nice little cat, but then Larry told us that that very day, a large customer of his had stepped on poor Kitty. Kitty cried piteously, but the man didn’t budge --until Larry, rushing across the shop to see what in the world was the matter with his cat, cried, “Oh! You’re stepping on the kitty!”

With a great deal of effort, the man got himself removed from off Kitty’s tail. She fled, switching the poor tail as she went. Larry called her, and she stopped and let him pick her up. We unanimously decided that we were better able to control Aleutia than we were able to monitor the over-sized customer, so Teddy brought her home.

Kitty seems totally delighted to be here. She’s midnight black with a small bit of white under her chin. When she first came to Larry’s shop, she didn’t play; but she gradually started playing with the boys; and, since she’s been here at home, she seems to play more every day. One can do that with more aplomb, you know, when one isn’t so absorbed in simply surviving. Kitty likes to skid wildly across the wood floor, tail bushy, fur standing on end, all bug-eyed and with her ears peeled back, batting one of Caleb’s matchbox cars as she comes. She jumps on anything, anywhere; while I was typing, she jumped clear up onto a high shelf on a nearby bookcase, the better to look me in the face. (I wasn’t giving her enough attention, evidently.) She likes to sleep on Larry’s side of the bed--probably because she can detect his scent…and, after all--she especially likes him, because he was the first to take her in and feed her.

We got her a woolly catnip mouse that she promptly fell over on top of and tried to beat to death with her back feet. Teddy brought home from the shop her litter box and food dishes, and she has made herself right at home--although she did growl and hiss menacingly at the dog.

Monday and Tuesday, poor ol’ Aleutia was so very sick with kidney infection, she could hardly stand up without sitting violently right back down, and she yelped and cried. She wouldn’t eat her food or drink her water. Her medicine never seems to help anymore, and I was afraid we would have to have her put to sleep. And then, to add insult to injury, we brought a cat home and instructed her in no uncertain terms, “You have to be nice!”

She went slinking off under the table to pout. Wednesday, she felt better, and we were relieved. She ate, she drank, and she wagged her big plume of a tail at us and growled that friendly growl of hers again. Perhaps she’ll be okay for a little while longer…

The kids took the cat over to visit my mother, which made her poor parakeet tremble, and then they took her next door to show my sister, Lura Kay. Kitty was impressed with Lura Kay, because she gave her a few tidbits of chicken, which Kitty loves.

Kitty likes to do the same thing our old Kitty did--climb up on my lap and lay right down in the middle of whatever I am trying to do, whether it be choosing songs and poems, writing Christmas cards, or sewing. She’s a cuddly little thing; I’ve missed having a cat around the house.

One afternoon while we were out for a walk, a friend left a video of The Old Fashioned Meeting--one I’ve been longing to see--and a pretty jar of cookie mix on my front porch. So that night we went to my mother’s house to watch it (the video, not the jar). It was filmed, I think, in the 50s, and was television’s version of The Old Fashioned Revival Hour. We especially enjoyed seeing the quartet, which has been my favorite singing group ever since I can remember.

Last Saturday night, another friend gave me a bag of a dozen yellow daffodil bulbs, which I planted Thursday. According to the package, they go by the name of “Sunshine”. The ground was so hard, I couldn’t get my spade into it at all, so Dorcas helped me pour several gallons of water all over the area where I wanted to plant the bulbs. And then, finally, I was able to dig a big enough hole--at least, I hope it was big enough--to put one in.

That being Thursday, it would soon be time for Jr. Choir; so I was trying to plant these flowers as neatly as possible. Or at least, keep me as neat as possible. But when I started the excavation for the sixth bulb, I got a little over-exuberant with the shovel, and managed to splat a whole spade full of mud and water all over my skirt. I howled, which made not only the littles, but also their visiting cousins, laugh.

After we all came back inside, Caleb brought me something, hidden in his fist, and told me he had a present for me for my birthday. “I wanted to give you a present,” he said, “but I couldn’t, because I’m not big enough to drive to Wal-Mart.” He smiled at me. “Hold out your hand,” he instructed, and I did so.

A small, round, very warm item dropped into my hand. It was a little rock, mostly a dull brown, but with pink swirls all around it. “Oh, it’s really pretty!” I exclaimed, inspecting it closely.

Caleb beamed. “I have looked and looked and looked for a rock with pink on it, all week long!” he told me, “and finally today, I found one.”

The rock has been duly added to my stash of Important Things I Must Never Throw Away, No Matter What.

Wednesday, Larry took a very large forklift to North Platte. And behind his flatbed trailer was hitched a dolly on which was a Blazer he was returning to Butch’s Auto Salvage in Sumner. That, because the recalcitrant vehicle had not quit rattling and clanking and using oil and leaving a smoke screen, as Butch had said it would do, assuring Larry that it had been just fine before it sat on his lot for many months without running. I think he knew better.

Just past Grand Island, two tires on Larry’s trailer blew out with loud bangs. He put the spare on and hoped to make it to the next exit.

But the spare promptly went bad, and other tires began losing their tread. He needed new tires, fast.

And he’d forgotten the checkbook.

So he took the Blazer off the car dolly and drove it back to Sam’s Warehouse in Grand Island, where he was fortunate enough to find four good used tires for only $20 each, which used up every red cent he had.

After a difficult time of changing tires, what with that mammoth forklift on the trailer, and the fact that he was missing several wood blocks that would’ve helped quite a bit, having taken them off the pickup before the Jr. Fire Patrol Parade, he proceeded on to Sumner, where he managed to extract $30 out of Butch’s miserly hide (not quite enough, for a Blazer), which was enough for fuel to get him home. Butch promised to pay us the remainder of what he owes us…soon.

In North Platte, where Larry dropped off the forklift, he learned that the behemoth weighed exactly one ton more than he had been told--it weighed 20,000 pounds, rather than 18,000--which explained why his tires went to the four winds.

Nope, Larry didn’t get back in time for church. Joseph and Hester weren’t feeling well that evening, so they stayed home. This meant that only Lydia and Caleb were with Victoria while I played the piano. The only difference in Victoria’s behavior when Larry or I are not beside her during the song service is---she sings louder. Hannah, sitting with Bobby in the pew just ahead of Lydia, Caleb, and Victoria, reported that when we sang a song Victoria particularly liked, she jumped the gun on one of the verses and sang the word before anybody else…but that was the only time Hannah actually heard her. Silly little girl.

Lawrence and Norma, Keith and Esther came visiting after church, and Lawrence and Norma brought a Dairy Queen cake for Caleb’s birthday. And now he is six. They gave Caleb a couple of CD-ROMs for the computer: “An Animated Storybook of Winnie-the-Pooh and the Honey Tree” and “WWII Fighters”, a documentary, video, and also an array of games using the fighter planes. Keith and Esther gave Caleb a radio-controlled car.

At Jr. Choir Thursday evening, we practiced Christmas songs, and our Thanksgiving song, too. I always find it an enjoyable time; I really love those children.

Late one night after everybody else but Hannah had gone to bed, I was in the living room inserting Dorcas’ pictures into Christmas cards, and affixing stamps and address labels to the envelopes. Kitty was in the kitchen stalking a mouse. All was calm, all was serene. The mouse was between the refrigerator and the cupboard, where we keep a couple of large breadboards. Hannah had earlier pulled them out--and then left them leaning precariously against the cupboard. She went off to wash her hair.

Suddenly, there was a terrible crash. I jumped up to see if Kitty needed to be extracted from under the breadboards…but I met her trotting briskly into the living room. She looked rather bushy-tailed, so I leaned down to pet her and reassure her that, no, the sky really wasn’t falling. I slid the breadboards back into their proper place and returned to the living room. Kitty was standing there waiting for me…I reached out to pet her again…and that’s when I noticed that one of her whiskers looked funny. It was much fatter than the other whiskers, and, further-more, it was wiggling!

Oh, shiver me timbers, it was the mouse’s tail. Kitty placed it on the rug; it fled; Kitty pounced…and the procedure was repeated two or three times. As soon as Kitty got a good grip on it again, I took the tail and removed it from her grasp. Taking it to the front door, with Kitty right at my feet, looking up at her midnight snack and mrrowing anxiously, I opened the door and flung the mouse with all my might and main. He’s probably just clearing the Denver skyline, right about now. Kitty, not realizing this, went into the living room and began hunting and searching all over the place for her prize. I gave her one of her fish treats and assured her that she was a wonderful Kitty. She assured me that she knew that already, and where was her mouse, anyway? She sat herself down at my feet and regarded me suspiciously. I petted her and spoke sweetly, but Kitty’s green-eyed gaze never faltered. I gave her another fish treat. She ate it quickly, then searched the rug again. Oh, help. Just what I need--a cat that makes me feel guilty for taking her mouse.

Kitty is no longer nearly afraid enough of Aleutia to suit me…she sits right on the other side of the table leg from her, looking rather peeved…but she doesn’t get all fluffed up and turn sideways like she did at first. If the dog moves past her too quickly, she still growls low in her throat, but she stays put; she doesn’t run away. And of course, the dog does nothing, because we are all there--and she knows she daren’t try anything…so the cat goes on thinking that perhaps that big beast is just a harmless teddy bear. Horrors.

Friday, Larry and I, and Victoria, too, went to Omaha to get several vehicle parts. When I asked the littles if any of them wanted to go, Caleb said he’d better not get out of school early, because he would miss recess.

The autumn scenery is very pretty, but I had not much opportunity for taking pictures, since we were usually flying down the road at a rapid clip. Nevertheless, I DID get all the poems and verses put into my Christmas notebook, and assigned to the children.

Yes, I have now picked out all the songs for the Christmas Program, and the poems, too. Hopefully, it’s all in proper order now.

On the way through Fremont, we stopped at the Goodwill. There we found a couple of nice mattresses for Teddy and Joseph. Joseph then gave his old one to Victoria, and she is now sleeping in her twin bed; the crib has been taken out of the room, finally. She would’ve been out of that crib long ago, had we had a mattress.

Victoria is delighted…at least, she seemed to be; but just this afternoon, she asked, “Could Daddy bring my crib back in from the garage now?”

She was quite fond of that crib, mainly because it had such a pretty, ruffled canopy, I think. I made it before Caleb was born, and, in an effort to make the fanciest canopy ever, I made the ruffle longer than I had intended to. And both Caleb and Victoria just loved their crib; I imagine they felt as if they were in their own little house, maybe going camping, when they were in it. I also made a thickly padded, arched piece for the headboard, with fabric shirred all around a picture of the cow jumping over the moon, and a ruffle around the entire thing. I tied that headboard piece onto Victoria’s twin bed, which pleased her.

In answer to her query, I explained, “No, we’ll see if we can sell that crib someday; you’re getting too big for it. Besides!--I could hardly lift you out of your crib!”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m really fat,” said she.

Friday night, we bought a bike for Hester. It belonged to Jodie, my nephew’s daughter, who lives in the next block. It is a pretty bike, and nearly new--well worth the $40 we paid. Hester put several miles on that bike, just riding it up and down the avenue.

Bobby had to work late Friday night, so he didn’t get here until after eight o’clock. Bobby and Hannah, with Dorcas’ help, then spent their date pulling up tacks and nails from the floor of their house. They expect to refinish the floors soon.

Yesterday it was chilly and windy, but sunny and pretty. The children put on jackets and earmuffs and headed outside. In the meanwhile, I typed the Christmas program order…printed it…rushed off to Saturday-night practice…and Dorcas accidentally deleted it for me before I saved it. Aarrgghh. Furthermore, in her quest for the lost document, she turned several files wrong side out. Aarrgghh again.

Ah, well; poor Dorcas; she always means well! And at least I had printed the document out, so all I needed to do was retype it, copying from type, which is easy enough.

And now, I must get on with the bookwork.