Assorted tidbits:
I live near a junior high school. Junior high is a very screaming time of life.
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I picked up some takeout yesterday at a nearby Mexican restaurant that seems to have a decent reputation. However, based on the fact that the enchilada and burritos were covered with Velveeta (which falls incontrovertibly into the category of Not Food), it looks like I'm still in the market for a neighborhood standby. Good beans and guacamole, though.
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Pretty much the only things I loaded into the car—besides a backpack and two suitcases—when making the move from Boise to Austin were cat accoutrements: kitty condo, cat tree, scratching post, cat toys. Little did I know that all I needed to do to ensure that Meep and Sparty had hours of entertainment at their disposal was inhabit a dwelling with doors. This makes possible the new favorite pastime of each crouching on opposite sides of a door left ajar and swatting at each other through the cracks.
I was going to wish that I were as easily amused, and then realized that I am.
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