December 1, a new month, a new start - I'm going to try to be better about posting at The Hellhole. I realize that November was NaBloPoMo so I'm a month late, but hey, only one month behind is pretty good for me. When I saw them at Thanksgiving I gave my brother and sister-in-law their birthday presents, three and six months late respectively. It's not even that I'm that much of a slack-ass about the presents themselves; I had them purchased on time but I kept not sending them, thinking I'd see Bo & Sarah in person, though whenever I did, I didn't remember the presents.

Anyway, I'm going to try not to neglect Ye Olde Blogge so much. Stuff happens, sometimes funny stuff, but I can't seem to muster the energy to bother. I get into funks like that occasionally; I'm not depressed, exactly, but anything I can think to do seems like too much trouble to bother with and I'm often proven correct.

Example: we've had the futon in our living room for nearly a year. Sprocket has paid zero to nothing attention to it the entire time, until about three weeks ago when it became his favorite nap place/resting place/gnawing on treats place, and nowhere else in the house would do. He also likes to wallow, in that doggy way, scrabbling and scrabbling on his back and rooting around. The futon is white, did I mention? Now, I don't care that it got dirty as compared to Sprocket being happy; a long time ago Lachele wrote in re: her pets something like, "They are animals, so sometimes they make messes and bad smells," and I'd far FAR rather have Sprocket and a dirty futon than no Sprocket and a pristine futon. But still, I can't abide a mess so Friday I stripped the cover and washed it. It was still dirty in one corner so I OxyCleaned it and washed it again. Then, when it was dried and Alan & I tried to zip it back over the cushions, the zipper kept splitting. Eventually it tore apart entirely. So now instead of a clean white futon, I have a clean white cover hanging partially off the futon which is covered in a sage-green bedsheet, and I wonder why I even bothered trying to keep it looking nice. 'Why bother even trying? about anything?' I get to feeling, not in a "goodbye cruel world" way, but in a sort of resigned acceptance. And in that state, I attach far more importance to the actual incident (ruined futon cover! the horror! the horror!) than it merits, but there we are...

Still, I can only wallow in self-pity for a finite time before I start to bore myself, so I began to crawl out of my rut, by which I mean "whine to a friend about my misfortune". I didn't know what to do about the futon cover since the zipper was about 10' long (one continuous zip all along the back and up either side) and my friend suggested an alterations lady who'd replaced many an upholstery zipper and even sewn new covers for her poolside lounge chairs. This alterations lady works at the only dry cleaners we patronize, Alan has clothes that need to go there so he can take the cover, so I'm sure it will all work out. Nevertheless, it wouldn't have occurred to us had my friend not made the suggestion, so thanks, Anne!

On a more pleasant note, last week my mom made a FANTABULOUS Thanksgiving feast and there were leftovers, so even though I've had two meals of her yummy cooking since Thanksgiving, there is more in the fridge to come. Prior to the holiday, Anne and I were e-mailing back and forth about what traditions we had, what dishes were important/favorites/specialties and during that exchange, I described my mom's dressing as "nirvana for the mouth". I stand by that assessment, and from what Alan says, I'm not alone there.

Lastly, to make sure I end on an uber-positive, positive note, check this out. It just may be the most cutest kitten EVAH.