Kingfisher Cove

Came Close to Committing Murder Today

I am (thankfully) not up to my eyeballs with a marketing proposal this week (and yes, I am thankful, I really am), but having a little “lag” time means that I have to deal with Chucklehead.

Jesus. It pretty much makes me wish I was involved in a proposal.

I said to my cube neighbor, “I envy you.” Her eyebrows raised and I said, “That you have a boss that you truly respect.” And it’s true; he’s probably the best person in the whole company. He’s the corporate attorney and he is wicked smart, and also wicked snarky, also down to earth, and a NORMAL HUMAN BEING. My cube neighbor, besides being the office manager, is also a paralegal. She admitted through tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes, “If it wasn’t for him, I’d be out of here.” (She’s been there for over 15 years).

And then I look at my plight. My “boss” is the most asinine, smarmy, ho-to-the-CEO, knuckle-dragger, spit-sprayer, guffawer, stutterer, MORE spit-sprayer, clueless, IDIOT I’ve ever had to deal with. And I have dealt with a breathtaking number of psychopathic bosses. (I really have). I wouldn’t consider this Neanderthal in the same category as those psychopaths because he’s just too stupid. But why oh why do I get stuck with godawful specimens of humanity to report to? In my nearly 40 years of working, I have only had TWO decent, respectable bosses. One was Judi Billings, who later became Washington’s Superintendent of Education. She was awesome. And the other was Erik Prestegaard, who was the marketer/business development professional that equated to my cube neighbor’s boss, in terms of professionalism, integrity, common sense, and whip-smartness. I learned so much from him. He was a gem. Also didn’t hurt that he looked just like Sean Connery.

• If I hear, “Hey, Tooooooooooooooooooooonya” one more time, I will poke his eyes out.
• If he stands .5 inches from my body one more time, I will poke his eyes out.
• If he slaps my shoulder with his file folder, pen, book, or palm one more time, I will poke his eyes out.
• If he utters the words “Sell Sheets” or “Value Proposition” or “Pitcher” (yeah, picture), or “hunnerd” (hundred *sigh*), or “Bring home the the sale, baby” one more time, I will totally go against who I am and BUY A GUN.

I have had it with suffering fools.

Official: It’s “Miss Wylie”

Yep, she’s a princess! And she’s all shotted up and dewormed and has an appointment for December 1st to be spayed. (Hopefully she won’t get preggers between now and then). The vet feels that she’s close to a year old, which means she is a little thang!

She is not shy about ambushing Mojo, who acts all gentlemanly and side-steps her. (He has bopped her once or twice with his ginormous paws, but never with claws, that we’re aware of).

They both slept with us last night, along with the weenie dogs.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat bed.”

John said she behaved very well at the vet’s office, although she hated the transport cage (and also having her temperature taken, lol).

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And now. The dishwasher is kaput. And it’s the dishwasher John installed last Christmas Eve when the previous dishwasher went kaput (that wasn’t all that old…).

It’s always something.

GOOD NEWS!!!

Wiley’s back!!!! (Or *Wylie…)

Here’s the story:

We arrived home from Harstine tonight to an empty house, although I wasn’t surprised about that. Mojo is often out and about when he’s been left behind (and in his younger days for a day or two, which we always assumed was punishment for leaving him behind him missing the bus). The one thing I did take note of was that a WHOLE LOT OF FOOD WAS GONE. Much more than what Mojo would have eaten in three days, so I was definitely feeling a flicker of hope.

Just a while ago, I heard the distinctive sound of the pet door, and noticed that both dogs were inside. I was expecting Mojo’s signature head-butt against my foot (so cute), but nothing! So I got up and peered out the glass slider and here were BOTH MOJO AND WILEY SITTING ON THE STEP. Together! (What I would give to have had a couple of cat cams around their necks or adhered to their foreheads…)

I opened the slider door and Mojo came in, but Wiley got spooked and jumped up on the rail and fled to the end of the deck. I called [her] but she wouldn’t come to me and acted like she didn’t know who I was. Then Bailey (the long-haired weenie) trotted down the deck to her and stretched up and Wiley touched noses with her! I think a light bulb kind of went off at that moment, but she was still a little spooked and took off into the brush.

John said, “I wonder if she’ll come to me?”

“Oh, prob-ab-ly,” I replied.

(He’s basically a “pet whisperer.”) (There is truth to that).

So he headed to the end of the deck and sat down and called her. Within seconds Wiley appeared. (John was the one who rescued her, as you might recall). There were a few moments of “talking” and petting and then John picked her up and carried her inside—she was NOT HAPPY ABOUT THAT. That is, until she got inside and he plopped her on the food perch. That cat LOVES food. (Probably has worms, right?)

Then, onto her chair.

 

{Snort.}

And then, onto her favorite human.

A little later, both cats were sleeping on the couch—about a foot away from each other. They have obviously bonded to some degree and I have to marvel at Mojo. (He is really special).

The plan is that John will take Wiley to the vet tomorrow after work. We have the slider in the pet door to control pet output. Something tells me that Wiley may not be cuddling on John’s lap tomorrow night! Heh heh. (My bad).

*If Wiley is a boy, his name will be “Wiley.” If she’s a girl, it’ll be “Wylie.”

I May Be Going A Bit Nuts With This

Heh. Yes! Another video! I wish it was a prettier day, but what do you expect for November? (My least favorite month of the year…) I had fun with this.

We walk, Bailey runs (Peanut does, too, but I missed that), and I find a sand dollar and some nice beach agates!

By the way, we never find sand dollars along our stretch of the beach, and I actually found two! A few years ago we kayaked down toward the southern end of the island and pulled up on the beach and it was COVERED in sand dollars. I thought that was interesting. Why there and not elsewhere?

Quite honestly, it was very pleasant down there on our beach walk. Not overly cold, no wind, no rain—just on the dreary side.

I wonder if there will be kitties at home tonight?

Another Little Ditty

This isn’t great (and certainly it was a dreary day), but it does give a bit of an outside tour of the house and the environs. Oh, and Peanut.

Peanut and I take a little tour.

I also took a few pictures of the siding progress underneath the house. (Yes, it must be protected under there!) It’s not the most sexy thing, but it really is quite impressive (click the picture to enlarge to get a better sense of the height/depth). The beams you see are temporary; they serve as a platform for the workers so they can access those really high parts above the gully. The beams were left over from the framing and the lumber vendor went out of business and wouldn’t take them back. (Grrr). At least they’re being put to good use. (The siders were very appreciative since they didn’t have to deal with scaffolding or uber-high ladders).

You can see where they have begun to install the soffit sheets (to protect the insulation) and they’ve framed in the piping/HVAC, which will also be enclosed in the soffit.

I also took a picture from underneath the waterside (huge) deck:

John has begun to install some decking boards so that they are in place against the house for when the siders install the siding. It would be too difficult (impossible?) to install those boards if the siding was already in place.

There are millions of things like this; doing this before that can be done! It’s also why he already installed the pet door because the siding needs to be worked around it. It’s head-spinning. As John would say, “You can’t even know…”

We’ve been very impressed with the quality of work the sheetrockers are doing! They tend to have a bad reputation (as a trade), but there is no cutting corners and they work long hours every day with a lot of attention to detail. Yesterday—Saturday—they were here all day long and didn’t leave until after 7:00 p.m. (They’re the ones who play good music really LOUD!) (Go for it, guys!) A brief list of what I’ve heard when I’ve been down in the house:

• Royals – Lorde
• Radioactive – Imagine Dragons
• Counting Stars – OneRepublic
• Demons – Imagine Dragons

It’s apparently an Olympia radio station and I’m thinking it’s better than the rock station I listen to in Seattle. (Probably can’t get it up there, though).

Unfortunately, the siders have another job to finish up and won’t be back until Thursday. But their work isn’t holding anything up.

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Holy cow! One of the sheetrock guys just pulled in! On Sunday! (They are in the process of covering up ALL the windows with plastic so they can apply texture).

And of course, Bailey had to explode in a barking frenzy and when I ran out in my slippers to reel her in, I stepped in dog poop.

                                                 

Messy!

I’m surprised that it was such a pretty day here at Harstine after yesterday’s almost-repeat of last Saturday’s wind storm. Ugh, yesterday was nasty. Here’s a good depiction of the results from all that wind:

The poor Wiener Walk! Gah! (John used the leaf blower and in a snap took care of THAT!)

Today being Friday (and I kept thinking all day long that it was Saturday), we had workers here working all day. Sheetrockers sanding, siders working beneath the house to attach soffits over the insulation and utilities (plumbing, HVAC, etc.). I went down and took a few separate videos, all with the workers’ music BLASTING REALLY REALLY LOUD!!!!

So. It was a headache beyond headaches, but I finally figured out how to piece together a few videos into one and get rid of all the extraneous parts and patch them together. Needless to say, I also muted the REALLY REALLY LOUD MUSIC! (Even though some of it was pretty good stuff. Piecing THAT together would’ve been a mess!)

Didja notice the newly installed pet door?

Tonight we had dinner at our neighbors’ and what a great time! They had just returned from a 6-week trip to Spain that culminated in a HUGE cruise ship voyage (with over 5,000 passengers/crew – way too many people they said) that crossed the Atlantic back to the U.S. We had great food, great company, and veddy nummy Lavender Drops! (You know, as opposed to Lemon Drops). Wow! Their house was brand new a blink-of-an-eye ago (I remember John and I and the weenies taking a tour when it was just framed), and yet they’ve now lived there for FIVE YEARS!!  (I know our house is progressing, but I have such a hard time imagining it finished and furnished).

Had a sniffy moment this morning when I noticed little kitty paw prints on top of the camping trailer stove cover where Wiley had scarfed down food that Sunday night John found her.

Man I hope she’s not gone-gone-gone.

Brat Cat

I know it was to be expected, but Wiley has discovered the pet door. I've been dreading this, but it was inevitable. Mojo and the wiener dogs are accustomed to their outside access and there's no way we could keep them locked in all day long.

John said he saw both Wiley and Mojo out back when he got home from work yesterday, like Mojo was going to give the young 'un a tour. With some difficulty, he caught Wiley and brought her inside, but then he had phone calls to make and Wiley slipped back out again. And stayed out.

And then it was bedtime.

Yeah, we called and called and called. Circled around the "yard" (a very loose term...) with no sign. Mojo had returned and I had an icky feeling in my belly. But as I was heavy-heartedly getting ready for bed upstairs, I heard the distinctive sound of the pet door—and the other three animals were on the bed! I peered over the rails and here was Wiley, scarfing down kitty food.

And soon after, joined all of us on the bed! (Mojo wasn't particularly pleased about that).

She was inside when I got up this morning, but shortly after heading downstairs, she zipped back out the pet door. Just hoping she truly is "wiley" and doesn't go anywhere near that godawful, busy road.

And a thought occurred to me this morning: she could be in heat. That is, if she really is female (which we're suspecting).

We MUST get this kiddo to the VET. 

Heh Heh

Wish I could edit out the cat box, but at least there aren’t any obvious turds poking up out of it.

Progress!

As I mentioned, John’s been down at Harstine since Friday afternoon. Today, while I was sitting under the hair dryer while having my hair cut and colored, I saw this email with the subject line “Stairs”:

“How do you jack a house up to slide stairs underneath? Pictures coming.”

I was all, what!? Then I saw these:

Really? That little *thing* could jack up that post (that, you know, holds up the house?) Apparently so!

And so…get a load of THIS:

No more temporary entry stairs!

And the entry deck is completely done! (Top rails)

Squeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

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Here’s my new hair:

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I also voted today, and Wiley helped.

And here (she?) was where she also shouldn’t be!

Little stinker.

Wild and Wooly

Holy flying branches, Batman! When the house shakes, rattles, and rolls with sustained 30 mph winds (with gusts over 40 mph), I realize I can’t wrap my head around what it must be like in a hurricane. We did have a wicked windstorm several years ago and I remember it sounded like a freight train roaring through the house, but even then I don’t think the wind speeds got above 60 mph. It was scary!

This isn’t *too* scary, but the lights keep blinking and I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost power. Sure hope my hair salon continues to have power because I have a desperately needed appointment for a cut & color in a couple of hours…

You can see the whitecaps out there! And the maples are losing their leaves fast, which does open up our peek-a-boo view. (Click the full-screen icon on the bottom right):

Update: Hair appointment postponed until tomorrow, which is fine with me! It’s crazy out there now! Power keeps blinking, but so far it’s held on! I was hoping to do some glass stuff, but I don’t dare fire up the kiln.

Another Update: 59 mph gust reported at SeaTac Airport – very close to here! The house is shuddering! (Still have power, though, and I’m so thankful!)

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Just had to post this! Is Wiley pretty darned cute or what? (Still not sure if he/she [no time for vet this week!], but we’re leaning toward “she.” Since balls aren’t readily apparent, it likely means there ARE NONE.