Friday,
July 4, 2008
INDEPENDENCE DAY

Happy 4th of July!

To all of you out there, have a safe, fun and relaxing holiday, and for God's sake if you're in a burn ban area don't set off any freaking fireworks.

Oh, and yes, I know Jesse Helms has departed this vale of tears and is currently meeting his Maker. What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall at that particular Afterlife intake session...

And the verdict is...

I hauled JJ into Banfield this morning for a followup on the bladder issue with his regular vet. She said that the Black Velvet Purrmonster has a slightly thickened bladder, but he IS urinating properly.

Since the ER vet didn't see crystals in the urine and a change in diet sets off his ocular herpes, the regular vet decided not to fiddle with his food (I explained what he was eating and the max amount of magnesium in it, and the vet agreed that it should be fine) and he's to finish out the regimen of Amoxycillin that the ER vet gave him. I'm going to buy a cat fountain to encourage him to drink as much as possible -- apart from that, I just need to keep an eye on him, give him his Amitriptyline every day and keep smearing the Healthy Bladder gel on his paws, and please Bast he should be okay.

So I can relax now. Phew!

Oh, and I did my SubMistress thing (wait, that came out wrong, lemme explain -- it's a family joke that Lyndon is the Master when it comes to fixing computer stuff, and I am the SubMistress when he's not available) when Stacy called me up and asked me to do some remote troubleshooting on her iPod, which wouldn't turn on. After a bit of fiddling we got it to work, so she now knows how to use the Hold button to prevent it from accidentially discharging in her purse, and I have earned my Good Sister crown for today.

And now, I do believe I'm heading off to Kroger to pick up some potato chips and ice cream for this afternoon -- hurrah!

For behold, I have performed my duty as an American

And lo, on this day that we celebrate as the natal day of our country, I did purchase a 14" tabletop grill which I placed upon the table on our balcony. And after placing my iPod in my pocket and my headphones on my ears, the better to listen to the most recent episode of We're Mean Because You're Stupid, I did fill the grill with mesquite-impregnated charcoal, making sure to arrange the charcoal into a pyramidal shape as the bag instructed, and doused it with lighter fluid, whereupon I struck a match and lit the coals.

And struck another match and lit the other side of the coals.

And decided that not enough of the coals were burning, so I sprinkled yet more lighter fluid upon the coals, aware of the dangers yet yearning for thoroughly cooked grilled meat.

And after the third repetition of this the coals did finally ash nicely, and produce much smoke. And I glanced in concern at the sprinkler overhead, for I was grilling on our balcony because I did not feel like cooking on our garage apron and tromping up and down the stairs fifteen million times to check on the meat, for lo, I am lazy that way.

But it was not offended at the smoke, and so I did grill all-beef hotdogs, hamburgers made of grass-fed beef from my friend Elizabeth's calf, and organic chicken breasts over the hot coals. And we did feast upon the meats, and potato salad, and cole slaw, and salt and pepper potato chips, and washed it all down with Diet Coke and Ben and Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream.

And we were replete, and somewhat burpy, in celebration of this natal day. Here endeth the lesson.

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