If you have poo, fling it now.

If you've been following the part about the flood, locusts, roof leaks, you must know by now the asbestos found in the attic needed to come out before they could manage repairs. Who are they? The magical workers that were sent by the insurance company.  All 11 of them. The first batch was the emergency crew to assess and remove any water. They were quick, to the point and took photos of the river because I have a nice view...Helpful? The second was a lady in training, not waiting, just training. She took photos of the situation, the Dalmatian, the river, my new fridge...She wasn't quite cooked yet so they sent another. He stuck his head in the attic hole and declared it filled with what could be asbestos. By God the man was brilliant! I had been flapping my mouth since the beginning that there was vermiculite in the attic and that it "may" be a source of asbestos.  After 3 months they sent in a lab tech to test it, and wouldn't you know it? There is asbestos i

January, the month of de-cluttering. Or maybe the month of watching one too many shows about closet organization. Also, how in the world is the word hoarder now a thing? And why do those shows always have a poop shot in them? "Yes no-teeth-Ethel we are making a donation, a keep, and a give away pile and found, gasp, after 43 years of not cleaning, RAT DROPPINGS!!"" - cut to shot of poop - cue the Shining music. ARGH!!!! This found me in the basement calmly getting rid of some boxes. Calmly, in this case, means sprinting so fast the Dalmatian was in the rear. I have all my teeth still, so off I go. Spring is coming, don't want to be caught amidst flood season with too much stuff down there - Now the goal I set was 5 or 6 carton boxes for the next hour. HA HA! I am so naive. 1 box and several hours later of me sitting on the floor drooling and leaving me wondering was this really my box? Apparently I was a romance novel, cat loving person who collected Bionic W

It all started innocent enough.  And ended wickedly devilish. Doing laundry, I found a receipt in Johnny Depp's jeans pocket and was about to crumple it up, but something caught my eye: BLUEBERRY CONDOMS COLGATE Wait. What? Did I read that right? BLUEBERRY CONDOMS COLGATE Yep, there it was in black and white. We use neither. Odd. In my head it went thusly: Do they make them to taste like blueberries, or the colour of blueberries? Why would they make them taste like blueberries silly Kat....Oh. OH. Ah. Must be the colour.... And in a flash I knew how that receipt got there. And not the Jerry-my-husband-is-cheating-on-me-with-my-lover's-sister/cousin/friend/goat-Springer kinda way. The evening before we were at - oh let's call her Pénélope - apartment for supper, enjoying merriment, food and beverages, fun! As we did dishes Johnny Depp took the Dalmatian for his constitutional in the park, picking up a recycled store bag from a bin just inside her door