Not much to report in these parts, and I've had no pics to share because I've been making an effort NOT to take my camera everywhere we go since my lens was starting to see more of what Owen was doing than I actually was. But we're going to Chick-fil-A with a friend today so I'll pack the Cannon and come back with a full playground report.
I've been working on a plaque for our house numbers which I'd hoped to hang Sunday and post pictures of yesterday, but it's stinkin' hard to drill holes in brick. I researched and bought the right kind of bit (I thought), but after drilling only 1/2" of one of four holes, I was exhausted. So I passed the drill to Scott, who barely had a chance to make progress before the bit gave up and bent itself into a taco. The photo above captures the joy of that moment. By then it was dark outside and the only happy worker left was Flashlight Chief Owen.
So I borrowed a more powerful drill, bought a stronger bit and started again this morning with a fresh attitude.
We must have brick made of kryptonite.
And as proof of how desperate I am for subject matter... a cat update. Old man Coby just got diagnosed with high blood pressure (sleeping most of the day must be much more stressful for cats than us humans realize), and his new favorite pastime is munching toilet paper right off the edge of the roll. At least Owen's bad habit didn't leave the Charmin all slobbery. And I know for a fact this grosses Greta out and gives her bad nightmares because she's been waking up at dawn lately and calling Ralph all over our house.
In case the above picture is more flattering than she deserves, Greta is F-A-T. As a petite tabby hauling around 14 pounds, she's easily an 8 on this chart:
And Coby is no more than a 3. So as soon as we can get Coby's BP under control I'm signing him up for a lipo transplant from Greta. Anyone know of a good feline plastic surgeon?