Power Outages and Kitty Puke

Today, we had a power outage from 7 or 8 in the morning until 5pm. No fans, so it was hot – ugh. So what did I do? I started watching 24 with Kiefer Sutherland. Yesterday, Fahim bought three dvds that comprise the first season. It’s bloody, gory, violent, and yet somehow addicting. Strange. I’m enjoying it thus far, and I’m having a hard time turning it off. Back in Canada, I had watched something like fifteen or thirty minutes of the pilot, and didn’t enjoy it all that much, but Fahim really likes it, so I decided to give it another try. Besides, the only dvds we have here at the moment are the ones he bought yesterday, and he wants to watch the movies with me, whereas 24 – he’s seen most of it already except for the last four or six episodes. And since Fahim has to go in to work for a few hours today (never mind that he’s on vacation), it makes sense that I start here. And yes, it’s all pirated.

One way to tell that it’s pirated – and by the way, this is a direct copy off a North American dvd – are all the spelling errors on the jacket and the lousy images on the cover. Apparently, the pirates do their own cover complete with their own descriptions, not always too accurate. Spelling mistakes are atrocious. Yowza.

I also decide to scrub the dirtiest part of the floor between our bedroom and the bathroom in the dining room. It’s visibly darker than the rest of the floor, and since our feet are always dirty, I figure that, even if I only tackle this spot today, our feet will still be considerably cleaner as a result. I scrub, and I’m disgusted at how filthy the water is. And I clean tile by tile, and it’s easy to tell which ones I’ve cleaned, which ones I haven’t. It’s true, I didn’t clean the entire floor – just the worst patch. I’ll clean the rest later. Cut me some slack – I haven’t even been married a week and a half yet. Aren’t I supposed to be on a honey moon or something? If not in reality, then at least emotionally? And how does scrubbing floors enter into this? Yeah, the rest can so wait.

Fahim is going to be back in time for lunch, so I chop everything and go to turn on the gas stove. Which has an electric sparker. Remember that power outage? Yeah, this is a no go. Drat.

I SMS Fahim that I need a manual sparker – or matches, or something to start the stove. We can SMS each other by our cell phones, and for quick messages, it’s a lot cheaper than actually calling. Unfortunately, as I finish typing it out on the keypad, Fahim walks around the corner. Drat. I was too slow. He comes in, sits down for a while. It’s a hot day and with no fans running, he’s overheated. He laughs at my "manual sparker" comment and says we’ll get regular matches, wooden, the kind with a one and a half inch stick. Or is it two inches? I don’t know, but either way, from my perspective, it brings my fingers far too close to the gas and the whooshing sound as flames ignite. I’m chicken of fire. Drat and double drat. Well, one more thing I’ll just have to get over.

He opts to forget about making lunch – he’s hungry and doesn’t want to wait for it to cook – so he goes to the Silver Spoon Take Away door and orders two lunch packets for us. When he comes back, he comments that they have pork on their menu, so we’ll not be eating there again. Huh? Well, if they have pork on their menu, even their fish dishes, which are safe for Muslims to eat, could be contaminated with pork. Muslims can’t eat pork. Okay, that makes sense. So. No more Silver Spoon.

And today, the cats start puking.

Yes, I know, not a topic you probably want to read about, but guess what? It’s happening, and it’s my nightmare, and I’m sharing it.

We decided a few days ago to open the front door as well to the cats and let them wander into the front yard, and I use this term loosely. Our front yard consists of a carport where Fahim parks his motorcycle and a strip of gravel with bits and pieces of grass and weed growing.

Tellulah and Oberon have decided they like eating the grass.

When Fahim told Robin, a friend from work, about the cats eating grass, Robin’s first comment was, "Oh, so have they started puking yet?" Apparently, it’s known here that cats eat grass and puke. No one told either Fahim or I. So, silly us, we let the cats into the yard where the grass was, so the cats could eat the grass and then puke.

The good news is that it’s mostly just watery. The bad news is that it’s kitty puke.

Fahim refuses to touch it.

He merely points it out to me, and I deal with it.

In all fairness, he’s dealing with the kitty litter, brave man, so, no problem. I’ll clean up their other messes.

Sunsets here – yellow where it sets, fading to pink, then fading to blue. They’re very colorful. I’ll have to take a pic sometime when I have a good angle and a good background. Taking one from our back patio is, oh, not the most scenic.

Author: LMAshton
Howdy! I'm a beginner artist, hobbyist photographer, kitchen witch, wanderer by nature, and hermit introvert. This is my blog feed. You can find my fediverse posts at https://a.farook.org/Laurie.

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