False Starts

There was a lull, sure. I'll cop to it. Because you're not always working toward being in your house. Sometimes it just sits there, like base camp, for you to drop your stuff off or eat a meal. Sometimes there's too many things happening away from the house. Outside. The rest of life. Weddings, funerals, shows, parties and the great Southwest, for example. What do we care what shape the house is in...we're never in it? That was this summer for us; we were out. But now we're back.

Aside from having a lovely summer and being places I'd never been before - Vegas, Santa Fe and Taos -- we gained a new member of the Hogs and Herbs family. A 17-pound lionine mister who even has fur on the INSIDE of his mouth and a face that looks like a cigar blew up in it. When we talk in his made-up voice, it comes out sounding like Edward G. Robinson, and he becomes a small, but street-wise gangster character named Pickles Mcgee, see?

He doesn't do much toward fixing up the house. He can't weild a hammer or climb a ladder. He can't sand or plaster. And if you count pooping in the house as not really helping but hurting, then well, he's still occasionally hurting. But he is good at sniffing. He can find a baked good on the street that's been buried under leaves for 2 days (more common than you'd think in South Philly). And he also does a mean Dick Cheney imitation. Really, ask him some time.

But despite the travel and Pickles nonchalant attitude toward home improvement, we did do some stuff. We pulled up rugs. We lucked out; the floors are hard wood, warm tones with an oak inlay. They are in good shape. We improved the bathroom, with new lighting fixtures and a big white mirror. We bought some art for the walls at a Space 1026 auction. Oh, and we picked up a tree for the front of the house that looks to be a ficus. It begs the same question as our new dog: Why would anyone throw this out?

Addendum: It turns out, WE would throw it out -- the tree (not the dog). It seems to have just come into our house to shed every single leaf it had and then die. How did the previous owners know it was about to become a large potted stick? And did they walk by our house on trash day and laugh.....and laugh....and laugh?