Is it Friday yet?

So when we (aka: Esther) set this blog up, she asked if she should include my name in the signature. She indicated she would, if I would contribute. I assured her that I would just love to help her keep the blog up to date and thus, my name is included. So in honor of that promise, I am blogging, for the first time ever. Sitting in the bathtub with our cat tonight made me decide this day was blog worthy.

For several hours today, I was tromping around the Lord's (not so) beautiful country in Eastern Kentucky. (I was looking at some coal mine impacted areas for work.) Don't get me wrong, Eastern KY is beautiful in its own right, but the coal companies have done a number on the area over the past 50+ years.

This staining isn't natural.

Nor is the dead vegetation.

Anyway, I digress. Ask me later and I'll tell you my true feelings.

So after getting home, I needed to mow the lawn (I wonder if it's time yet? Cats can hide in the grass without being seen? Check. Grass taller than my ankles? Check. Can I bale the cuttings and sell them as hay? Check and double check. *sigh* I so love to mow the lawn.) Anyway, did that once I got home.

Earlier this week, our AC decided it was time to pass on, so the HVAC guy came out tonight and took an amazingly long time to chit-chat (Oh! You're moving to Louisville. My brother's nephew's wife....) and give me an astonishingly high estimate for a new one. So once I finally got him out the door, I went back out to get our little cat, Daisy.

Several days ago, Daisy decided she didn't want to come inside until almost midnight. As part of this whole adventure she cornered a possum.

Consequently, she was grounded (we didn't let her go outside.) Today, she escaped and spent at least 6-7 hours hidden underneath our neighbor's shed. Well, if anybody is keeping track, it's been a wee bit wet this year. So here's Daisy, with extraordinarily long hair, covered in mud and cobwebs and heaven-only-knows what else. And she is laying there watching me the entire time I'm mowing acting like she is possibly hurt. When I get her and bring her inside she is filthy and not interested in food or water. So I say "Jared, what would be the best way to resolve this problem? Hmm, maybe I should give her a bath. That way I can clean her up and see if anything hurts."

Unfortunately, Esther wasn't here at this point to videotape or photograph this little adventure we had. Of course, cats don't like getting baths, so she fought and flailed and freaked out so our bathroom was covered in cat hair, dirt, and water (new floor and all). And of course, she looks absolutely ridiculous and pathetic since she is soaking wet. Anyway, Daisy quickly learned that the safest place for her was on my back, since I couldn't reach her there. So I've got the bathroom doors closed so she doesn't escape, our AC is out so it is already hovering in the upper 70's, and I'm wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, both of which are soaked through. So after some sweat (mine), blood (again, mine), and tears (not mine this time) I was finally able to soap her up and rinse her off. She shed enough fur to block the drain completely not once, but twice. But I finally cleaned her up and then wrapped her in a towel. I don't think I've ever seen such a mood swing in my life. Literally within 30 seconds, she went from meowing like the world was ending to purring (yes, purring) in my arms as I dry her off. Within a few minutes, she'd even fallen asleep in my arms. Let me tell you, there's nothing quite like a wet animal about a foot from your nose. Odoriferous to say the least... Anyway, the word of the day is "grounded." Say it with me now, Grounded, G-R-O-U-N-D-E-D, grounded.

This is Daisy after we gave her a bath soon after we found her.

For comparison purposes....a non-soaked cat.