I decided last week I’d move the Sniderville posts to Sunday, to better incorporate Saturday’s goings-on. A full week, if you will. I don’t think I like it. It messes with my title (what week is this, exactly?)
Back to Saturday next week.
Hmm. So, what went on this week…
Sunday was Mother’s Day, of course, and I took my beloved Mom out for lunch.
We went to our Thai haunt, and it was delicious as always. We’d gone to the flea market, also, per her request, and I ate fantastic creme brulee. Everything was going so well, until suddenly it wasn’t. Something I ate didn’t enjoy being part of my person, and long story short I cut out to go home and lay in my bed whimpering and trying not to die. Some Mother’s Day. I love you, Mom.
I went out to Target to buy the cats some furniture.
Yep, you read that right. We’d had a box of cardboard by the back door, destined to go out for recycling, but it was commandeered by the cats. Turns out it was at a good level for squirrel watching, and since we’re exceedingly indulgent we let it stay. For months. Finally I decided this was ridiculous, and set out to buy them a little bench to sit on. An awkward conversation with the Target clerk* and $100 later, I have never felt like such a cat lady in my life.
I discovered that the groundhogs who live in our backyard had babies.
I’ve tried to get pictures, but the mama is understandably protective and won’t let me too close. There are two adults and at least two babies, and they’ve made an elaborate series of hidey-holes in the neighbourhood backyards. C has taken it as an excuse to let the grass grow on our little hill, since they’ve built a burrow inside. I’m just waiting for one of us to snap an ankle in the hole.
I published a new horror story.(Click here for a preview)
Honestly? I think this may be my favourite yet. A little more suspenseful than the others, with a definite wallop of gross.
How was your week?
*“Oh, looks like all we have left is the one on the shelf. I can check in the back for you; sometimes the ones on the floor get a little scuffed up.”
“No, thanks, that’s okay. It’s just for my cats, anyway.”
“Cats? For them to sit on?”
“Oh. O…kay. I hope they…like it?”