Something New

I've spent much of Sunday trying to recover some photos of Maus from the depths of my archives and found that I have precious few of them. I was able to dig up some from files long deleted thanks to a program called O&O Media Recovery, which is a pretty nifty tool to have around, and was able to get some older videos of Maus from my friend Stephan, who has an online storage space where I'd uploaded them for him when we'd first moved to Woodbridge. I guess I'm very lucky that Stephan is the type to keep uploads and not delete them!

But the lack of photos of my little kitty has gotten me to thinking.

Maybe I should keep some kind of photographic record of my life? Things like pictures of my cats, my dog, my home, and my neighborhood, for example, should have a place where they can sit and stay in the long term. So I decided to start a photo blog with a daily photo of something random from my life.

It's nothing fancy - a real simple site with just the basics: a link back to this blog, a way to contact me via email, and links to my Flickr albums for people who want to check out all the photos together. I'm splitting them into "sets" sorted by month: a set for April, a set for March, and so on.

The whole thing is more of an experiment at this point, but maybe it will turn out to be a pretty cool record of me, so to speak, in the long run, and possibly it may even improve my photography since I'll really have to try to come up with something different and interesting each and every day. Obviously, if I'm gone for the weekend, some days will have no pictures and other days will have several. But the general idea is that of a picture a day.

Trueman's Officers

Trueman has been having one hell of a time getting properly settled on Fort Eustis, which has not been made any easier by the fact that he was originally assigned to the wrong unit. Go figure.

Trueman's orders assigned him to Fort Eustis as an 11B (infantry), which was an odd choice considering that Fort Eustis is the home of the Army Transportation Corps and doesn't have any infantry units and infantry slots on the base are few and far between and usually limited to such positions as range control. We always wondered what the heck was up with that.

From what we've been able to gather since getting here, Trueman was supposed to get one set of orders with which to report in to Fort Eustis, and Fort Eustis was supposed to get a memo or other paper of some kind or another letting them know where to put him. Said piece of paper never reached Fort Eustis, so when he reported in back in mid-March, they scratched their heads and wondered where to put him, then assigned him to an Inland Cargo Transfer Company.

Once in-processed at this unit, Trueman returned to our old apartment and we made our move. At that point, he was assigned to be the Operations NCO and was in charge of 12 soldiers whom he called his "knuckleheads" and whom I referred to as the "gifted and talented" section because they were neither. He also found out that this unit was supposed to deploy to Iraq in September and started preparing for that accordingly by trying to get some of the basics of soldiering back into the heads of his knuckleheads. I don't think it sank in. They kept showing up with empty canteens or being unaccountable and complained a lot that he was "giving them a hard time" about such silly things as having enough water, bringing the things that are on their packing lists to the field, and being accountable.

His unit went to the field for one week, during which Trueman ran a TOC and had a pretty good time. He likes going to the field. His unit, apparently, didn't like going to the field with him because he wouldn't let them get away with just plain stupid things like not securing their weapons, going "back to the rear" for stupid reasons like "needing to buy tampons" and all sorts of other idiocy that one doesn't even see in most re-enactment groups and that one definitely should not be seeing in an active duty Army unit.

After returning from the field, he was commended by his chain of command for his good work and made the training NCO which, in some ways, was a promotion, and in other ways was a slap in the face. At any rate, it got him away from the knuckleheads, responsibility for whom now falls to a different NCO.

Two days after that, he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a conference call during which he and his chain of command were informed that, in fact, he was not supposed to have been assigned to this unit at all, and that he had been assigned to where he was supposed to have been going in the first place. Everyone was informed that he would be reporting to the correct unit immediately and that the Transportation Company he was currently assigned to needed to find someone else to replace him as the training NCO and for the deployment.

Shortly after that phone call, he found himself in his new digs. As an instructor at the officer advanced course at the Transportation School. Which is where he's supposed to be staying for the duration of his current enlistment, which will be until spring of 2011. At that point, or possibly earlier or later, since the time frame seems to change daily, the school and all its personnel is relocating and, chances are, if Trueman reenlists, so will we. Ironically, we'll still be in Virginia at that point - just at Fort Lee. I guess we'll be getting to see every Army post in Virginia yet.

So, things have been interesting and continue to be so. It's never dull in the Army.

Reminiscing

Being able to write about Maus last night helped a lot, and I want to thank everyone for the kind comments and emails that you've left for me. I really do appreciate it.

aepilot_jim asked where to send flowers. Jim, while I'm really grateful for your offer to send flowers for Maus, I'm not sure that's a fitting tribute for my little guy, since he would have probably eaten them when he was alive. If you, or anyone who reads my blog, would like to do something in Maus's memory, could you please donate to IMOM? They are an organization that helps pay vet bills for people whose pets are seriously ill but who cannot afford to pay for their treatment. (And if anyone is artistically inclined, drawings and such of Maus would be something I would treasure!)



Today was a little bit easier, but things are still weird without Maus. It's hard to remember at times that he's no longer there. I'm still kind of looking for him out of the corner of my eye, or expecting him to be curled up on the footstool downstairs, which was one of his favorite places to sleep. He used to use his paws to "soften" it before laying down, and it still has some of his scratch marks.

Somehow it feels like the balance in our household has been offset. I think it may be because Maus was our only male four-legger, so now poor Trueman is stuck in a house full of females. Maybe that's also why I was so attached to Maus, and why he was so attached to me.

It's still hard to think about all the stuff I won't see him do again. I'm even missing things he drove me nuts with. He used to get into the trash can in the bathroom and find things to chew on: laundry sheets, any kind of plastic wrappers, and the like. More than once, I got woken up by the sound of the trash can falling over, and running to take whatever he had away from him before he ate it. He used to steal Trueman's blousing straps and chew our shoe laces. He used to use his claws to wake me up and let me know he wanted underneath the covers. (Ow!) And he used to love humping my leg at night when I was nearing that time of the month. That was probably his strangest quirk - something he developed at age 4 when we were living in the hotel during deployment to Eustis.

What I'll really miss is the snuggle time we had, though, because none of my other animals are as affectionate as Maus was with both Trueman and I. He used to curl up in my armpit at night. Sometimes he'd put his little warm paw pads on me. He liked sitting on my chest when I was sleeping, so close to my face that I had to go cross-eyed to look at him, and he'd just lean forward, put his forehead against my face and purr.

I picked up my camera today and I felt guilty because, before we made the decision to take him to the vet, Trueman asked: "Do we have good photos of him?" I'm regretting that I said we had plenty, instead of taking the chance to have a last picture, one that I'm in, holding him. Maybe I wouldn't have wanted to remember him sick, anyway, but at least it would have been something.

I picked my camera up tonight and saw that there was a photo on it that I'd taken Thursday. Maus is in a corner of it, but he's in it. I think that is the actual last photo I took of him.


I tried blowing it up a bit, but unfortunately he's very out of focus. He's sitting on a pad that reflects his body heat, which I placed him on every night since he's gotten sick, so that he would be warm and comfortable. He's got his pink starfish, the one he was cremated with, and his blue collar, which we just bought a couple of weeks ago.


There's a background story to his new collar that is actually kind of funny.

A while ago, Trueman had both Maus and Murphy on the bed at our old place in Woodbridge, and he took both their collars off - her solid pink one, and his black one with little reflective stars and moons. For some reason, Trueman likes his cats naked when he snuggles with them, while I prefer them to wear collars so I can hear where they're at by the little tink-tink sounds their bells make.

I was mad at Trueman for taking their collars off and, as a joke I decided to put Murphy's pink collar on Maus, and his black one on her. The pink collar actually looked pretty good on him, so I left it on. Trueman joked that Maus was looking "very metrosexual" with it on. Maus didn't mind, of course. He could have cared less about the color of his collar. He wore it during the move and the first couple of days at our new place, as you can see here.

A few days after moving, I noticed the pink collar had gotten very "fuzzy", like nylon tends to get with use and wear, and I decided that it was probably time to replace it. (Either that, or shave it...) So when we stopped at Care-A-Lot pets about two weeks ago, I picked out this blue one for him. The blue looked really good on him, I think. We've kept it and it is hanging from the corner of a photo frame that has his picture in it, on the book case in our office.

The night I took the photo of him wearing the collar, I was on the computer downstairs, as always, and I had Maus with me, tucked under a blanket inside the dog's bed downstairs, which is lined with sheepskin. He spent the night with me. At one point, I decided to take off his collar. For some reason, I was thinking that if I took the collar off, he wouldn't feel like he needed to stay and could pass away. That next day, we talked about whether there was any point to getting more yogurt for him at the store, and I went and checked on him every so often throughout the evening before we went to sleep. (That was the night Trueman slept on the floor so he wouldn't have to move Maus.) I guess we both knew when this picture was taken that there wasn't much time left.

If anyone would like to look, I made an album with all the pictures of Maus I have in digital format, few as there are, which can be found here. I tried to clean up the ones that needed cleaning up, and scale up the ones that were pretty small. Some of them are blurry and some aren't the greatest pictures, but since I don't have many, I didn't want to leave them out.

Since we chose not to have the ashes returned to us, I've been thinking about having one of those laser-engraved photo pendants made for myself. At the old place, there was a store in the mall that made those, and while they were kind of cheap, that would be a nice thing to have. I just don't know which picture to pick, though, because it's hard to capture all of his personality in one photo.

The Last Photo


I can't seem to go to sleep tonight.

Every time I go to lay down, I feel there's something I need to be doing, or that I've forgotten to do something. I've gotten up a couple of times and stepped into the empty office. I've looked toward the spot on the wool blankets that cover the bins with our re-enacting kit. The spot next to the flak jackets that sit on top of the bins. The spot covered in orange and white cat hair where Maus should be.

Last night, Maus looked like he may have been getting better. We'd gone out in the afternoon and bought some more yogurt for him, since he's always liked licking the yogurt lids and sticking his paws into the empty containers to get the last little bits from the bottom.

Trueman had him on our bed and was offering him yogurt, which he started to lick. I's offered him a bit of my pizza pocket, which he turned his head away from. When I was done eating, I poured some water into the plate to see if he would drink. He did. He didn't throw up the water or the yogurt, which I took as a good sign, and he curled up on his heat pad on the bed. Trueman decided to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag so he wouldn't have to move him, and I slid under the covers and went to sleep. I remember Maus walking across me and going into the other room after I turned out the light.

We slept in.

I woke up a couple of times, just randomly, and got up to refill my water and go to the bathroom. The first time was just after 6 am. I stopped in and petted Maus who was sitting in his spot on the bins. The second time was just after 10. I did the same.

When I woke up for the third time, it was just around noon, and I decided it was time to get out of bed. I went into the other room, picked up Maus, and gently placed him on Trueman. I figured he might like curling up on the sleeping bag. He always did like waking Trueman by putting a paw in his mouth or jumping on his bladder. And he loved snuggling up with me by crawling into the sleeping bag or under the covers.

Trueman rolled over and put Maus on his chest, petting him and talking to him. I laid on the bed and watched them. Abby moved over and put her head on Trueman's pillow, feeling left out. Maus got up, wobbled a bit, and walked to the dog bed. He squatted and peed in the center of the dog bed. His pee was dark orange. Then he went to hide under the bed.

I'm a horrible person.

The first thought I had was, "We can't have him pee all over the place!" as I went downstairs to get the Folex. I pulled the cover off the dog bed and put it in the laundry. I took the two layers of foam and put them into a plastic bag to take out with the trash, and I sprayed the little stain that was left with Folex. Trueman, meanwhile, had gone to take a shower and I met him in the kitchen. "It's time to put him down," I said. What a horrible thing to say.

Trueman called the nearest vet clinic, which was closed. Of course, it's Saturday. He called the clinic their phone message referred us to, which is an emergency clinic that is always open. He talked to them and they said we could bring him in.

I got dressed and put together the cat carrier. I pulled out the blanket I made as a dog bed cover for Abby last year and wrapped Maus in it. I grabbed his favorite toy, his pink terrycloth starfish. I put his collar, which I'd taken off the night before, and placed it on the dresser. Then I placed Maus in the cat carrier and we headed out to the vet clinic. The drive seemed very long, even though it's not a very long distance. Maus was meowing at first, but stopped before long. If I looked at him and said, "Mau?" he would give me a "Mrew?" back.

We got to the clinic and Trueman went inside to fill in the paperwork while I waited in the car with Maus. I put my finger through the front of his carrier, touched his paws, and said "Mau?" He gave me a "Mrew", put his other paw on me, hooking a claw slightly into my finger, and began to purr. He hadn't purred at me in a week, even though I'd been petting him every time I passed him.

Trueman told me to come inside, so I picked up the carrier and brought it in. Maus didn't like the idea and was protesting, but quieted down quickly. One of the vet techs took him in the back so they could place the catheter, and she asked whether we wanted to get a chance to spend some time with him before they put him to sleep. Trueman said that he didn't want to come inside, he couldn't see him die. I said I would go.

After a couple of minutes, the vet tech let me into one of the exam rooms and closed the door behind me. Another tech came in through the door opposite, cradling Maus who was wrapped in a towel. He had a shaved spot on his leg where they'd placed the catheter, which was wrapped up with blue vet wrap, the same color as his collar. She put him on the exam table and set a box of Kleenex next to him. "The vet will be with you in a few minutes," she said.

I picked him up and hugged him, then sat down on one of the chairs and held him, tummy up, rubbing his tummy. He used to always fuss when I did this. He twitched his tail a little and tried to flip over. I turned him back around and rubbed his tummy and his little paws.

Then the vet came in.

She asked me if I was okay and if I had ever gone through euthanasia before. I told her I hadn't. She explained that she was going to give him a sedative first, and that she would then inject him, which would make his heart stop. She said that I may want the towel underneath me, since they sometimes lose control of their bladder when their heart stops, and that I shouldn't be shocked because cats' eyes don't close when they die.

I was hugging him and kissing his little head. I was making small-talk with him. "Look, they shaved your little leg. You're all naked." The vet gave him the sedative. She called him "pumpkin" when he fussed at the sedative. "I know, pumpkin, it's cold. It's not comfortable." Then she put in the second needle while I was rubbing his little legs and hugging him. "I need to check his heartbeat," she said, and I lifted my hand so she could place the stethoscope. His little head fell back, his tongue was sticking out a little. I hugged him again.

The vet talked to me for awhile while I held him. She told me that there was nothing we could have tried, even if we had wanted to, and that most cats who have fatty liver disease don't have a good prognosis. I still felt like I somehow failed him. Maybe if I had tried to force-feed him more frequently, to get more fluids into him, instead of being lazy, we could've turned this around. Maybe there was something else I could've tried. A couple of times, I'd even thought - "Maybe he'll be dead when we wake up. Maybe he'll die soon. So I don't have to watch him being weak and wobbly and throwing up his food anymore."

I asked the vet if they could place the starfish with him when they cremated him, and that they could either cremate the blanket, or wash it and keep it for the hospital. She helped me wrap him up in the towel, cradled him in her arms, and left the room.

We decided to have him cremated instead of taking him home and burying him in the yard. We're renting, and there are a lot of stray animals in the neighborhood. I just had this picture that I would wake up one morning and find that some other creature had dug up his grave. I also couldn't come to grips with the idea of him rotting in the ground. Trueman didn't want the ashes returned. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about that. The rational part of me says, "Well, you can't pet the ashes. You can't cuddle them." The other part of me says, "Maybe you should have asked for them back, just so you have him home."

We stopped at a couple of different places on the way home, a couple of antiques shops and other stores. It all felt stupid, like there was no point to it. We talked about doing something after getting back to the house, like going to Gloucester with Abby, but once we got back to the house, Trueman went on the computer, and I started cleaning and putting things away. I put away the cat carrier and went through the things in the kitchen we'd bought to try and turn Maus around. I tossed the syringe, milk replacement, and milk thistle capsules in the trash. I put the special cat food we'd gotten - he always liked the really cheap Whiskas and MeowMix foods - in with the other food and cleaned the dry-erase marker label, "Maus Food", off the container. I found the little T-shirt I'd gotten to keep him warm and threw it out, too.

I didn't think putting a cat to sleep would be this hard. I still don't think it would be this hard with any other cat. I don't think I'd feel the same if it were Murphy or if it were Malice. Probably not even Abby.

But Maus was my kitty. I have had him since he was born, he was barely 5 ounces. He had his first bath in the bathroom sink, while he was still small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. He used to sleep with me back then, and I wouldn't get a wink of sleep because I would be worried I'd roll over and squish him.

I didn't originally pick a name for him because I wasn't sure I wanted to keep him, but how could I not. The little buggers grow on you. I named him Maus when I saw him sitting under my blankets, with just his little pink nose and white whiskers sticking out from underneath, and the name stuck. I wish I had photos. Back when he was born, I only had a film camera, so I never took a whole lot of photos of him. Out of the ones I did have, somewhere between moving a couple of times, and having a foster dog (Max) who peed on the book case that held my photo albums, they have either gotten lost or destroyed. I wish I had the photo of him in a life jacket that was actually a beer cozy, when we made it through Hurricane Isabel. I only have a couple of newer digital photos, and a couple of "teenage" Maus prints, when he was a goofy skinny little thing. Back when he would come when called and sit when given a treat!

Maus moved with me when we were at Fort Eustis before and stayed in the hotel with Trueman and I. He moved with us when we got the apartment in Newport News, and again to Woodbridge, and again back down to the Fort Eustis area this time around. I've had him long before we got Murphy, and before we had any foster dogs. Yet I don't seem to have any pictures of him. I just always took for granted that he was there.

And now, he's not there and I don't know how a house with two other cats and a dog can seem this empty. I keep expecting Maus to sit in the bathtub or drink from the tap in the kitchen. I keep waiting to see him sitting on the toilet or curled up in the sink. Maybe on his spot in the office. I keep waiting for him to give me that demanding "Meow!" usually reserved for Trueman in the mornings, when he wants to be fed.

He was the only cat who would just muscle his way into my lap, or dig his way (claws and all!) under the covers if he wanted to sleep with me. He was my buddy when I spent late nights on the computer. If I was laying down on the floor, he'd sit on my shoulders and try to pull the elastic band out of my ponytail. At night, he'd drink from the water glass on my bedside table, and when I had something really good to eat for lunch, he'd use his claws to get a hold of it to "sample" the goodies. He used to love spaghetti sauce and would literally jump on the table and put his paw in it. (He always used his paw to eat - dip the paw in, lick the food off.)

It was really hard seeing him so sick the past two weeks because he wouldn't sit on the toilet in the morning, and he wouldn't run downstairs and meow for his food. He was having a hard time walking. I picked him up and wrapped him in a blanket the other day, and just held him as we looked out the window. He was tracking the birds and giving me "happy feet".

I feel like a horrible person for not realizing what this was sooner, so that maybe there could have been something done, and for not following up more with force-feeding and trying to make sure he got enough water. I feel guilty for thinking, "maybe he'll die over night." What kind of person thinks that? I feel bad for not having more photos. I shoot so many pictures, but I hardly ever kept any of the cats unless they were specifically good shots. Maus' pictures never did him justice, so a lot of the time, I erased them or didn't take many. I feel so dumb having all those stupid pictures of Abby and us, but not having a single picture of Maus and I together. He was my little Maus, and I don't even have a picture showing me holding him.

I just feel lonely without Maus. I realize we have two other cats and a dog, but they're not the same. They don't have the heaps of personality and funny quirks that he had. They aren't affectionate in the same ways. It's been really bugging me that they're still here and Maus is not. I'd trade them both for one of him any day.

Trueman is getting kind of fed up with me randomly bursting into tears. He growled at me when I got up the second time after going to bed and sat on the toilet, missing Maus. He told me to "go downstairs" if I'm gonna cry and to "knock it off." I just need some time with this.

Goodbye, sweet Maus.

Computer Maus.

Tummy rubs, please?

Maus, tabby, one each.

Mrow?

Best buddies, Maus and Murphy.

Sick Maus, hiding in Trueman's sleeping bag.

Maus update

Thank you so much to everyone who has sent positive thoughts for my kitty Maus.

Unfortunately, he is still very sick. Even though we've been force-feeding him, he's had a very hard time keeping the food down and often throws it back up shortly after feeding time. But at least he is getting something into his tummy. Regardless of how little it actually is, it's still better than nothing at all. These past two days we've offered him some yogurt, which is his favorite food besides spaghetti sauce, and he's eaten that of his own accord and did not throw it up. I'm taking that as a good sign!

We have been talking about what we need to do when and if the time comes, and we've decided that, if it looks like he is starting to fade, we will put him down. At this point, we're still hoping that he will recover, but there is a very good chance that he will not.

What we are not sure about is what to do with him if he does die.

I've never had to bury any dead pets yet. The only pet I've had that died was a guinea pig named Muck who just dropped dead one morning. My dad took him to the vet's to be "disposed of". I wasn't particularly attached to Muck, but I am attached to Maus. I've had him, literally, since he was born. He used to curl up on me when he was smaller than the palm of my hand and I would be terrified to go to sleep because I was worried I could crush him. He's moved with me 4 times so far and lived in the hotel room with us when we were deployed to Fort Eustis previously.

If he does die, we were thinking about burying him in the back yard, mostly because I don't like the idea of the vet "disposing" of the body, or bringing home an urn with ashes. I don't see me having that sort of memento in the house. So we were thinking about burying him at the very back of the yard, under one of the big trees, wrapped in a towel or blanket, with his pink starfish (his favorite toy) tucked inside.

I know some places have codes that prohibit burial of pets in the back yard, and some places do not. What I don't know is what the laws are here - well, I know what the laws are, because I found them online, but they don't answer my question. The law says that if you have a dead animal on your property, you are to have it "cremated or buried forthwith". It doesn't say whether you can do it on your property or not.

*sigh*

Maus


Here's an older photo of my cat Maus. I think this was taken either in 2005 or in 2006, and it captures his personality pretty well. He's a silly little cuddly orange-tan goofball. Unfortunately, he is also very, very sick and does not seem to be improving at all. The prognosis doesn't look good at all. He may not make it to the end of this week.

If everyone could please send good thoughts for him, it would be very, very much appreciated.

And please, if you have cats, watch them closely every day to see if there are any changes in their eating or bathroom habits or if they seem off. With everything that has been going on with us in the past few weeks - the move, cleaning up, shopping for things we needed, switching all the bills over etc. - we didn't watch any of the cats as closely as we normally do, and by the time we realized there was a problem, he was already very seriously ill.

Felidae

Murphy is an incredibly busy feline. Her main job consists of keeping up with the movement of a square of sunshine falling onto the bedspread from the bedroom window. She sometimes has to chase flies, a feat made difficult by the fact that she hasn't been able to sprout any wings yet. And every night, she hunts the elusive octopus (wish a company other than f**** Hartz made them!).

Such a tiring, hard life, indeed.


For some reason I've not been up to writing a lot of interesting blog posts lately.

Maybe I should start keeping a photo blog instead of an actual written blog. I don't think it would be hard to post an interesting picture each day, especially since I shoot so many photos now that I have my Nikon D40. I just shoot and shoot and then go through them all at the end of the day and only keep the ones I like. Most of them end up on my dog's (*lol*) Fotki page, since she usually comes along when we go on trips. There's some other random dog-related stuff on the page, like free downloads, and some dog-free albums all the way at the bottom. (A lot of the dog albums also have photos without Abby in them.)

Last Sunday, we first went to Gloucester Point Park to spend some time on the beach. It was a bit cold and raining off and on, but we had a great time regardless - or maybe even because of that, since we didn't have to share the beach with a lot of people. It's a pretty small park and beach, but you're allowed to swim along part of the beach and you're allowed to bring your dog, too.

It has some of the funniest-looking No Swimming signs on the other end, though. I guess if you're a little grey space alien, you should probably keep out of the water. Maybe I'm the only one who thinks the illustration on the sign is funny, though.


Click here to see more pictures of Gloucester Point Park.

After spending some time at the beach, we headed across the bridge (or, as they say around here, "over the water") to Yorktown where we parked right across the street from Grace Church Cemetery where General Thomas Nelson is buried. We went to see the cemetery and then walked through the oldest part of Yorktown to the Yorktown Victory Monument and back.

I shot some very nice photos in Yorktown, including one of Trueman touching one of the cannon balls lodged in the side of the Nelson House on Main Street. Of course, the only picture of me in the bunch makes me look like a complete dork experiencing a very bad hair day. Abby looks very nice in the same picture, though. She's way more photogenic than I.

Click here to see more pictures of Yorktown.

Looks like I'll need to run for right now. There's a big thunderstorm brewing outside and I also need to get a bit more Pedialyte into my youngest kitty, Maus, who's currently quite sick with Feline Hepatic Lipidosis - FHL, or Fatty Liver Disease. He's not been doing very well, even though the disease has a very high recovery rate (70 to 80%).

Boob Lamps - part III

I know, I know ... I still owe everyone the second half of my post on moving, but I haven't been able to sit down, collect my thoughts, and put that much text down on virtual paper this past week. I've been busy. Which means I owe you new reports about all of that, too.

For now, I've got some pictures of our new places. Most of the outdoor photos were taken just after we moved in, while I was waiting for Trueman to get back from getting the moving truck weighed at Fort Eustis, and most of the indoor photos are from today. As you can tell, there's some stuff that's still pretty unfinished. We're missing a desk chair, need to get curtains and curtain rods for all the windows, and the outside needs to meet Mr. Landscaper. The latter is not our responsibility, so it's anyone's guess as to when that will happen.


The front of our duplex.


To state the obvious, our house is the right half of the duplex. It would have been weird to show you a picture of half a house if it weren't our half, wouldn't it? *laughs* As you can see, we don't have any landscaping at the moment, just a mixture of packed dirt and gravel covering our driveway. As far as I know, the current plan is for our landlord to have landscapers gravel the driveway and plant some kind of plants in the rest of the front yard.

I'm thinking about putting potted plants in the space between the front porch and the corner of the building, but I have to admit that I don't know a whole lot about plants and planting, and haven't been known to have a very green thumb. Any suggestions?

The back of our duplex, seen from the middle of the yard.


The same house, seen from the opposite direction - except without our car being parked in the driveway. The white house on the left belongs to an older couple. If it weren't for the fact that we have seen their car pull up to the house, I'd be convinced that nobody lives there. It just seems like their blinds are always down, giving the impression that no one's home.

We're planning to get a little grill and some patio furniture in the near future so we can grill in the back yard and have friends over once it gets more toward summer. We'll need to get a lot of bug repellent, I think.

The back yard, seen from the kitchen door.


Because this is a duplex and neither yard is fenced at this point, we basically share a back yard with our neighbors. Their half is the one on the left, which has a shed, the burn pit, and a bunch of picnic benches. Our half is the one on the right, which doesn't have anything. The thing next to our tree was theirs and has since been removed. Our side is going to have one of those plastic kiddy pools soon - for Abby to play in.

Let's go inside and start with the kitchen.

Our kitchen.


You can probably tell from the photo, but the kitchen isn't a place where we spend a whole lot of time. It's where we make food, do our laundry, and keep most of our pet supplies. We have a washer and dryer combo to the left of the stove, with the hamper in front of it. The white corner at the bottom left is the top of Abby's crate, which is too big to fit anywhere else. To the right of the door you see, we keep our cat boxes, pet food containers, and a small table with the cats' food on top, and the dog's food underneath. Yeah, it's ugly ... but it works.

I love the stove and the refrigerator. The stove being a flat-top range, there are no nooks and crannies for Trueman to drop food into when he cooks, which means it'll keep looking nice. And the fridge is just humongous. I can fit so much frozen stuff into it!

Looking from the kitchen into the living room.


So here's our very yellow living room that you saw in the process of getting painted in the first entry. This is what it looks like all finished. Well, all finished except for curtains, anyway. What you can't see in this picture is the depth. There's about a three foot space behind the couch, which forms a bit of a corridor behind the couch so that we can get to the closet, which is the white door on the right corner. And there's about three feet between the couch and the table next to the front door to get around the room.

Moving along for different views of the living room.


You can see a little more of the living room as well as the stairs leading to the upper floor in this picture. You might also notice the little white box to the right of the pictures on the right side of the photo. That's the digital control for our heating and air conditioning system. I've never lived in a place that had a digital thermostat, so I find that pretty neat.


Moving right along to the bottom of the stairway, here's a wide view of the living room. I realize that the TV is located in a really stupid place, right in front of that window, but that's where the cable hook-up happens to be, so that's how we set up the room. It may not be the most practical place for a TV, but the overall room setup worked out pretty well.

Now let's head upstairs.


Here's a view down the stairway, taken from the upstairs landing. This is the only part of the house where the walls are actually white, and also the least practical place to have white walls because they tend to get scuffed when you carry things upstairs. I bought a little can of flat interior paint to keep on hand so I can paint over any little scuffs or scrapes.

And yeah, that's my pup sleeping at the bottom of the stairway. She's such a funny creature. Even though she has a nice bed in the upstairs bedroom and a bed in the living room downstairs, she prefers sleeping either at the top or at the bottom of the stairway. Meanwhile, Malice the cat has claimed the downstairs dog bed.

Master bedroom.

As you can see, the khaki color we'd chosen for our bedroom walls dried anything but khaki, but the color works pretty well in the room. The view is looking from the hallway into the bedroom. Our dressers fit nicely onto the far wall with a bit of space on either side, and the rest of the furniture fit into the room without making it feel cramped. It actually fits pretty well.

Moving counter-clockwise to get additional views of the room.


This photo is pretty much self-explanatory - it's our bed, headboard, night stands, and all that good stuff. The door on the right goes to Trueman's closet, which is just a little wider than the door itself. It's where his shirts, pants, and such go.


Another view of our bedroom. The book case on the left is where I keep all my manga. The bench on the right is where we kinda put our clothes at night, sit down to put on socks, and such. It's also where the cats love to sleep when they're not on the bed with us. Oh, and I finally do have a place to hang that rug!

And, last but not least, let's head into our office. This is the second bedroom, which is actually about the same size than the master bedroom. That worked out really well, too, because all the stuff that was in the den and the spare bedroom in our old place needed to go into that one room. Because this room is so much bigger, that worked out okay.


Looking into the office from the doorway. Trueman's desk is the one you see, and mine is the white thing in the lower right corner. As you can tell, we're kind of missing a proper office chair for Trueman at this point, but we'll get one this weekend. Like our soccer scarves?


And here's my desk. It's set up pretty much the same way it was in our old place, except that it's next to a closet rather than the door to the living room. Beyond that, same thing. It's even the same wall color.


And this is the "messy" part of the office. You can kind of see a bunch of green wool blankets behind that book case and the foot lockers - those cover the plastic bins of re-enacting gear that we had in our spare bedroom in the old place. It keeps them out of the way, and the cats really like sleeping on top of that. It doesn't look really great, but it's functional. They're also easy to get to, all I have to do is push the book case and footlockers forward.

Boob Lamps - part II

Here's a photo of the offending light fixtures in my kitchen, along with some gratuitous desert peach colored kitchen wall on the upper right and lower left of the image. The house sports a total of four of these boob lamps - three in the kitchen downstairs and a larger single boob, which sort of resembles what happens to my boobs when I wear a sports bra, in the upstairs hallway.

I feel like my ceiling needs to wear a bra.

Loosing It

I know I still owe you guys the second part of my recap of our move, I just haven't gotten around to it yet. I would have gotten it done already, were it not for the inconvenient fact that there's just so much that needs doing in real life.

I was originally planning to finish the story the day after I wrote Part One, except that I didn't actually get any sleep that night (or day, however you may want to look at it). I was awoken around 8:30 in the morning - at which point I'd been in bed for 2 hours and was, undoubtedly, in the middle of a very good dream - by what sounded a whole lot like a herd of hippopotamuses doing an Irish jig on the roof.

Which was rather disconcerting, obviously.

It turned out that the noise was not actually caused by a herd of hippopotamuses, which are, of course, not native to Virginia and also don't generally tend to jig on rooftops. In fact, the noise was caused by roofers, who are native to Virginia and have a valid reason to cause noise on rooftops. Particularly when they are dismantling them and replacing all the shingles, as was the case here.

They turned out to be surprisingly efficient. After a while of ripping old roof tiles off, they started putting new roof tiles on, at which point the hammering was quite rhythmic and easy to sleep by. By the time I actually got up, they were done. No four hour lunch break, no sitting around on their butts in the middle of the job. They were actually done. Color me surprised.

Speaking of sleeping, while we were making dinner last night, Trueman and I had the following, rather odd, conversation about my apparently interesting dreams. Get your minds out of the gutter, they're not that kind.

Him: "You know you were barking in your sleep this morning?"

Me: "Sorry?"

Him: "You were barking. I thought you were messing with me at first. I figured it was some new plot to get me to move over, since you know I'll move for Abby when she rolls over. I thought you were trying to sound like Abby."

Me: "I was barking? Like how?"

Him: "You were barking and growling. You know that funny high-pitched bark you do when you bark at the dog? It was like that. And growling. I guess you were talking to Abby in your sleep."

Me: "Uh. Okay."

Apparently, I'm exploring my inner wolf while I'm asleep. Or my inner furry. Or heaven knows what the hell I was dreaming about that would have me barking and growling. Incidentally, the dog - of whom barking and growling in her sleep might be expected - tends to just snore (loudly) and twitch, and occasionally make a funny squeaky sound that is probably a booming bark inside her dreams.

Boob Lamps - part I

I suppose this is going to be a long entry, so I suggest that those of you who are planning to sit through it place a soft cushion onto under your bums and grab a cup of coffee. You may want to plan ahead to take some potty breaks, too.

Let's skip back two weeks.

A few days after I wrote about my frustrations with the Army screwing up Trueman's pay, he was finally able to come back up so that we could pack and arrange for the move. Finance had canceled his original request for advance pay because, they said, the computer system was showing that he was going to get paid normally on the first.

That was actually true, but what he was getting paid on the first was screwed up - it was missing half a month's housing - and it still did not equal anything to the tune of Dislocation Allowance which, technically, should be available for any normal PCS move. The problem being, the Army didn't view this as a PCS move. Even though Trueman went from Active Duty to Active Duty, essentially, because he did it through the RC to AC program, the Army viewed this as a "first duty station" assignment and therefore said he did not qualify for a Dislocation Allowance.

That all aside, of course Finance did not think to let Trueman know that they had, in fact, canceled his request for advance pay. He did not know about that until he went back after so many days had passed to ask why he had still not received it. At that point, they told him it had been canceled. And he put another request in, which would have gotten us said pay advance the Friday before pay day, allowing us to move over the weekend without having to put the whole cost of the move on the credit card.

(Incidentally, this particular Finance office does not care much for doing anything remotely financial. Trueman recalled walking in as soon as they opened and being the only person there, only to be told to "go sit down" and that they would "call him when they're ready". Finding himself still sitting there two hours later, he started to fill in all the customer comment cards available to him. Finding that the "staff" there just tossed them, he started doing the online customer comment cards. And he had nothing nice to say, either.)

But back on track.

Trueman's chain of command, sympathizing with the situation, let him leave two days before his TDY was supposed to start, to tie up loose ends up there and get ready for the move. As soon as he got back, we got cracking.

Our first orders of business were to secure a U Haul truck and to get a hold of as many free moving boxes as we could lay our hands on.

U Haul literally laughed at us on the phone when we asked to reserve a U Haul that Friday. I don't know what that was all about, but apparently, there wasn't a single 17' U Haul truck to be had that Friday anywhere in northern Virginia. I guess with the laws they recently passed in Prince William County that allow law enforcement to ask people about their residency status, all the Illegals were packing up and skipping to another county. The soonest we could get a U Haul was Sunday afternoon, so we locked in the reservation for that and figured it would at least give us some time to pack carefully and get the priming done in the old apartment.

After securing our U Haul, we spent the rest of the day and the day after that getting all the necessary tools for cleaning up and making repairs in the old apartment. We needed to Spackle any holes left by nails and bolts, prime the den and the living room, and spray some spot cleaner in various areas of the carpet. The latter pretty much being a moot point since, as you may remember, we had two floods in that apartment - one right after we moved in, from upstairs, and one when our dishwasher leaked. Obviously, they are going to have to replace all the carpeting. (Incidentally, the future residents who put down a deposit on the apartment are aware of this since ... well, I told them.)

All of the things that needed to be done were pretty minor. One of the blinds was broken, but Big Lots carries the same type and size for $2.99, so we simply replaced it. The complex would have charged us $35 for the same mini-blinds. You know, labor costs and all that. We also replaced the drip pans on the stove since the old ones weren't dirty, but rusty.

We also got a hold of lots and lots of free boxes. We got a bunch of them from Full Metal Jacket Surplus in Alexandria, where we needed to go anyway to trade some gear for some other gear. And then we got even more boxes from Quantico Arms, and in the end I got a hold of some smaller boxes that someone in our complex had just tossed after unpacking themselves. We actually had a couple of spares when everything was packed.

And best of all ... we didn't pay a single penny for any boxes! It's a good thing, too. Have you seen how much U Haul charges for boxes?!

We started packing some of the books and smaller items on Thursday evening and were ready to finish all the packing and get set up for the move Friday and Saturday.

Of course, when we woke up on Friday morning, we found that the Army still had not bothered to pay us, which meant that Finance had screwed up somewhere along the way. Trueman called one of his Sergeants and asked him to go down to Finance and find out what was going on.

What was going on was exactly what had gone on before. They canceled the pay advance request saying that he couldn't have it because he was getting paid, and they didn't bother to actually let him know this was the case. I guess they figure it's not their responsibility to make sure pay issues get resolved.

So we sat down and gave this situation some thought. We decided there was little point to wait until we got paid "normally" on the first, which was the Tuesday after, and that the move needed to move as soon as possible and in any way possible. Trueman had only 10 days TDY and we had to be out of the old place by the fourth. So the sooner we could get things done, the better.

I came up with the idea that we should pack the cats and the dog up in the car, along with their supplies and a handful of other, breakable, items and head to the new house to get them situated. Moving with Abby really never was an issue since we travel so much with her that she doesn't mind riding in the car or sleeping in a new place, but cats are different. Cats are picky. And cats tend to get underfoot when you have open doors or are packing up. It seemed that the logical solution would be to get the cats situated down here so they'd be safe and sound while we packed and finished up there.

That would also give me a chance to take a look around the new house, get an idea of what needed to be fixed, what I needed to put on the list of things to get, and how I could set up the various rooms to work with the furniture we already have. And, of course, I figured we could head to Wal Mart, get the necessary paint supplies, and get the painting out of the way before bringing our furniture and household goods down. (Needless to say, I never mentioned that until we were actually inside Wal Mart, getting cleaning supplies and cat litter.)

The drive down with all the critters in the car was pretty interesting and also amusing. We have a Ford Escape XLT which is a small SUV, and normally the "cargo" area is set up for the dog. It has a rubber mat, a no-spill dog bowl, a tether Abby's harness clips into, and so on. Since we had the dog crate, cat boxes, cat food and cat litter, and a pile of other items in the back cargo area, all of the beasties had to ride in the back seat: the cats in their respective cat carriers, and Abby wearing the harness that clips into the seatbelt.

She didn't like having to share with the cat carriers. Can you tell?


The cats did really well on the trip, which surprised me a lot. The last time we did this move, when we moved from the Fort Eustis area to the Fort Belvoir area, we had two cats (Maus and Murphy) and a different dog, our foster Blondi. On that occasion, ChaplainAssistant was helping us with the move and transporting the dog and cats in his dad's SUV, which turned out to be rather unpleasant because both cats howled in unison for the duration of the drive, and Blondi threw up all over her crate.

This time, with three cats and a dog, the move went much more smoothly. The meowing mostly came from Miss Malice who disliked the idea of being inside a cat carrier more than she disliked the idea of moving. Maus and Murphy, who were together in the same cat carrier, were pretty quiet and were just kind of enjoying the ride. They were looking out the front of the carrier and actively sniffing and watching the sky pass where they could see it out the windshield.



We had really nice weather for the drive. It was in the mid-70's and beautifully sunny, so we drove most of the way with the windows down. The dog and two of the cats were sniffing enthusiastically. We hit a lot of traffic around Fredericksburg and then again around Richmond, and I took turns letting Maus and Murphy out of the cat carrier, one at a time, and having them ride in my lap. They liked looking out the window when we weren't moving, but would meow in protest if another car passed us.

When we got to the house, we put the cat carriers in the center of the living room and went to set up the cat boxes and food and water for the three, both downstairs and upstairs so that it would be easy to find. Then we opened the carriers and let them out. Predictably, all three immediately ran up the stairs and found hiding spots.

Because Trueman had been living at the house for about a week, he'd borrowed an air mattress and sleeping bag and had them set up in the upstairs bedroom. And, as men tend to do, he had covered the floor in his dirty laundry downstairs where the washer and dryer are and his clean laundry upstairs in front of the closet since he didn't have any hangers. The cats found plenty of hiding spots up there. Malice went behind the air bed, Murphy found her way inside one of the sleeping bags, and Maus went and sat in the bath tub.

We decided to leave them alone and headed to Wal Mart to get some of the necessities we would need while getting ready to do our move and settle in. Trueman gave me a quick tour of the area on our way to Wal Mart, which is about 10 miles from the house up Route 17. Once at Wal Mart, I brought up the subject of painting since it would be a good idea to get it done before we moved all our stuff (and it would be dry by that point, too!) and since it would never get done once everything was in the house. Trueman shrugged and told me to pick paint colors. I picked and we headed for the counter where they mix them, which turned out to be pretty complicated because the fellow there had no idea how to work the machine.

While he was trying to figure things out, I found the shelf with pre-mixed batches of color that had been returned for one reason or another and were now half price. Among them was a nice tan color that I thought would be a good substitute for the brown-ish color I'd picked for the bedroom. Since we were trying to keep things cheap, I figured half price for a nice color is better than full price for the perfect color, so I went with that.

We did eventually get a hold of someone who knew what she was doing, and she mixed the two other colors for us. We stayed very close to what the colors in our old place had been: yellow in the living room and light green in the office. We also picked up some cheap painting trays and rollers and headed back.

When we got back to the house, we found that our neighbors were having a get-together in the back yard, so we joined them for a bit to be friendly. Since our house is a duplex, we share a front and back yard with our neighbors and their side of the back yard has a fire pit where they burn all their burnables (wood, paper, cardboard, and the like), which seems to be common practice in our new county, especially since trash removal is not necessarily a part of the available amenities.

On this particular occasion, they were having a bit of a get-together around the campfire which was both fun and funny. There was an Aussie who turned out to have lived in South Africa for awhile - him and Trueman were off on memories of Peri-Peri sauce pretty quickly - and a German who was afraid of my goofy German Shepherd who was bouncing about trying to get people to pet her.

When we went back inside, the cats had gotten a lot more comfortable and were coming out of their hidey-holes to watch us paint the two upstairs room. And yes, two out of three beasties agree: the stairs are just a great place to be. Although this makes going up and down the stairs somewhat complicated.


The first room we painted was the bedroom, which was the room I got the bucket of half-priced tan paint for, which went on the wall a mid-colored shade of khaki. I was joking with Trueman that we needed to send pictures of the paint while wet and then while dry to At the Front so they could rant some more about the correct shade of khaki.

Then the paint started to dry.

The more it dried, the more two facts became painfully obvious: one, that there definitely needed to be two coats of paint on the wall; two, that the color resembled OD Shade 7 a whole lot more than it resembled anything that could be considered tan or khaki. Pictured below is pretty much the exact instant when these facts became obvious.


Okay then.

Right around that point, Trueman remembered that he needed to phone his unit's Staff Duty NCO to officially sign out on his 10 days' permissive TDY that he had, signed and ready, in his pocket already. The Staff Duty told him only E-7 and above could call in, and that he needed to appear in person and sign out physically, since he was only an E-6.

He headed off and I started painting the second bedroom. I'd not originally planned on painting the office, but had found it that afternoon to be a rather nauseating shade of ... uh ... peach. Desert peach, to be exact, a "horrible half-pink, half-tan color", such as the one which gave rise to the infamous comic by Donna Barr, "The Desert Peach". Incidentally, the same shade of peach in my office gave rise to nothing, save maybe my dinner.

By the time Trueman got back, I had two coats of green paint on the office walls and it was starting to resemble the color our den was in the old place, which has rather grown on me as a good, neutral color that allows me to concentrate and get my work done. And besides, green goes with everything. (Everything we own, anyway.)

Since it had gotten rather late at this point and Trueman was a bit bothered by the attitude of the Staff Duty ... ehm... Specialist who had the attitude of the quite stereotypical young black female Baby Momma and who had told him to "Go si' down. I'm onna phone wit' my baby daddy!", we decided to call it a night and took the air mattress and sleeping bags downstairs into the living room so we didn't need to sleep in the paint fumes.

No sooner were we all settled in for the night that Abby decided she needed to share the bed, and particularly, that she needed to share Trueman's pillow. She shared his way right off the pillow.


The cats decided that the dog couldn't outdo them and that the air mattress was about the neatest thing they had ever slept on, so they spent most of the night taking turns sitting on various parts of my body. Maus, who ordinarily likes to crawl under the covers, spent most of the night laying across the top of my head. Malice, who usually sits at my feet worked her way into the sleeping bag with me. And Murphy walked up and down Trueman's stomach for most of the night in search of just the right spot.

The next morning, we got up early, put a second coat of paint on the bedroom upstairs which had turned a dark shade of olive drab by this point, and then went downstairs into the living room and put two coats of yellow paint on that. Since Trueman had been gone for nearly the entire time I had spent painting the second bedroom, he got to do quite a bit of painting in the living room to make up for all the fun he had missed.


Have I mentioned yet that all the paint and paint supplies for the whole house cost us less than $50 and that this painting took us, all considered, less than half a day to do? Yup ... we're efficient like that. (Ahem, necessity being the mother of invention, and all....)

That night, we put out food and water for the cats, packed the dog up in the car and headed back North. We had half a day to pack everything in the old place and load it into a U Haul that afternoon. Trueman was to pick the U Haul up at 4:30 in the afternoon, giving me all day before that to pack and a couple hours after that to load before it got completely dark. Simple enough.

Instead of going back home by way I-64 to I-95 as we normally go, we took US-17 back up to Fredericksburg and went onto I-95 there. That was actually a very interesting ride. The roads were nearly empty and the drive was quite pretty, even in the dark. It was also shorter and reasonably faster than going the other way.

I guess that's the end of Part One, and I'll put Part Two of our move in a separate entry so this one doesn't get entirely too long.

I suppose, though, I should mention why the entry is titled Boob Lamps. You see, we have one lamp in the upstairs hallway and three lamps in our oversized kitchen that closely resemble large breasts, complete with areolae and nipples, sticking from the ceiling. They're quite tasteful, actually - glass domes with a center ... uh ... metal nipple. But they still look like boobs.

Cat IV

In the Army, the abbreviation Cat IV, which stands for Category IV, is used to describe applicants wanting to join the military who have extremely low test scores. Each year, only a small percentage of enlistees are allowed to be Cat IV's, and the jobs for them are rather limited. At Trueman's recruiting station, most of them ended up becoming "bath and laundry specialists", MOS 92S.

I recently found the following text written in pink pen on top of the radiator in the women's bathroom at the post library on Fort Eustis. I would bet anything that the person who wrote it is probably a Cat IV and was not using the library to improve her mental abilities. The text read:

This libbray rocks!

Finally

To quote MacArthur: "I have returned."

Well, figuratively speaking. Literally I have been here all along, just rather cut off from the Internet, since the soonest installation date available to us was this Tuesday. Today. And I'm making good use of it, too - playing catch-up with various emails, comments on You Tube, and what not.

We're settled in and all that good stuff. Everything's hooked up, everything's working, and things are good. Kinda. Sorta. We had to do the move out-of-pocket, or rather, out-of-credit-card, since the Army figured that we didn't need any money to move. We do get reimbursed for the U Haul truck and we do get reimbursed for the week Trueman had to stay at the hotel on base while he was inprocessing before he could move into the house. We have no idea how much of each we're going to get ... gotta love the way that is done.

Well, I'll write more in-depth later when I'm caught up with everything else, and I'll have some pictures of our new place to post, too.