Lace, dimnity, and Unbounded Domesticity

If cats' accidents are TMI for you, then read no more.

You've been warned.

Got home late Sunday night, after a grand and glorious tour of the mid-Atlantic and Pennsylvania heartlands. Good times, nice visits, etc etc etc. Here at home, I've been struggling (and suceeding) to stay off the computer and accomplish things. So far so good, with the downstairs of the house almost completely conquered and the attic well on its way. As a matter of fact, I was so enegerized that I decided to open up the baby's closet and clear out all my stuff that doesn't belong in there.

Working, progressing, working, progressing, until the little cat jumps on the desk and knocks over the little Christmas candle decoration that I'd set up there. *Crash* [say the cymbal] and there's little bits of glass on my desk and in the floor 'round about. So, I think, "Hey, let's go ahead and strip the bed/shake out the comforter and just vacuum the whole room. It needs it." So I get my shoes, the vacuum, and come back to tackle this worthwhile project. Unfortunately, while stripping the bed down I came upon a progressively more distinct odor of kitty, um, well, "pee pee." Yuk. When I got through the brown/green sheets to the white matress pad, the distinct color of kitty, um, well, "pee pee" was also unmistakable.

Yuk.

My memory wafted back to Monday morning, when my catsitter told me about "finding the little cat locked in the baby's room! Wonder how long she'd been in there? Silly thing." [Be it known: I am not angry at the cat. I knew before I left that she has the ability/habit of locking herself in rooms by accident, and I didn't make sure that the door was propped open. It's my fault. She was considerate, too, in not going in the crib or on the carpet, both of which would have been much more permanent problems to have to deal with. And more expensive.]

So, into the washer with bleach goes the [stinky] mattress pad. Into the garbage goes the unsalvageable [stinky] foam mattress-make-feel-nicer thingy. Out comes the adjustable wrench, and into the garage goes the ruined-but-already-falling-apart box [stinky] spring/mattress itself, and into the shed go the rails, headboard, and footboard. I've been wanting to rid myself of the wretched bed anyhow (didn't go together properly due to long use and mis-sized bolts) and this was my chance.

Out came the vacuum, into it went the glass, the dust, the fur, the paper shreddings, and the dirt. Onto the computer goes I, to take a break. Now the sheets and comforter are calling my name, but I don't have any color safe bleach yet. Curtain.