Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Well, our roof is not tin, and must not have been that hot, because Sunday evening I'm out back sitting on the patio for a few minutes checking on Genie and giving her some attention and I see movement on the roof and think maybe it's a bird, but no, it's Lucy coming down to the very edge of the roof to sit and stare at us.

Genie doesn't like Lucy much so Lucy very rarely ventures into the backyard, and apparently uses the roof to see what's going on back there. On Saturday Keith was planting a few shrubs, a project that took him most of the afternoon and Lucy wandered in through the open gate. She was checking things out in the backyard and Genie took a dislike to that kind of thing going on in HER backyard and next thing we know fur was flying and cats were snarling. Lucy acted like well, I didn't really want to be in the backyard anyway, so I'll go back out front and sauntered off after making a stand against Genie. Why did planting a few shrubs take all afternoon? Because Keith is a perfectionist and dug holes to China to plant the shrubs in trying to get past the layer of clay in the dirt here so that the roots would be able to dig down deeper. Or something like that. Me, I would just dig a hole already and plant the shrubs and not worry about clay layers, but here he is spending hours trying to break up the clay and dig some really deep holes. Actually only one of the shrubs got planted, the other is still in the pot. Along with the wisteria that has been sitting waiting to be planted for about a month now.

Anyway, Lucy sat on the edge of the roof for a while just looking down at us, and then she turns and heads up to the peak of the roof where she lays down. I knew she gets onto the roof quite frequently because many times when I go out to feed her in the mornings I hear meowing coming from above and then she jumps down from the roof into her tree and then down to eat.

The rest of our weekend was even less eventful that a cat on the roof and one shrub getting planted. Keith woke up on Sunday with some kind of stomach bug and he spent the entire day going between the bathroom and the bed, napping when he could and feeling progressively worse throughout the day. Whatever it was completely wiped him out, leaving him weak and every joint in his body aching. He stayed home from work yesterday, eating the stomach bug diet of bananas, toast and applesauce. He was feeling better by last night and went to work today, but I told him to tell his boss that if it starts up again he is going back home. I haven't seen him that sick in a long time, not since he had the flu a few years back. Why do people always get sick on their days off and not during the week where you aren't quite as disappointed at having to take a sick day because it was just a work day anyway?

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