This and That.

So, Girl came over this afternoon, did laundry, watched the shows she is still recording on my DV-R (she doesn't have cable yet) and then left with her clean clothes and her dog. He was happy to be here and happy to leave with her, he's nothing if not an agreeable, happy guy. He jumped into her car - I think Thanksgiving's long drive to and from my mother's went a long way to deal with his autophobia, now he is actually a good car riding dog, and hops right in and seems to enjoy himself. And I did not cry when they left, in fact, I am not sad. I love him, he is welcome here anytime, but Murphy and I have gotten back into being just us, and we love our walkies and such without him, and we are fine.

Girlchild did joke that I should rent a two bedroom apartment wherever I go, just in case they have to live with me again. I was already thinking of at least a 1 br. with a den, just because I'll need the space. If I get a 2/2 I have to keep that fact from my mother, or she'll want to move in. Of course, I will be on at least the 2nd floor and she won't do stairs. Heh.

I stayed up too late and got up too early, so today was a fairly wasted day around Home Improvement World. I had planned to plunge in and start painting the trim in my bedroom, and then my bathroom, tomorrow, but tomorrow will be more prep work, because I got a wild hair and started cleaning out the floor of my walk-in closet yesterday, so it is now ready for carpet. But trim and bathroom paint must be done before the carpet, so a timeline is falling into place.

On Friday, Pond Guy (an expensive godsend, but still a godsend, bless L for finding him) and his crew fixed my little goldfish pond so it is now absolutely spotless, his crew scrubbed and cleaned for hours, and they rebuilt the filtration system and installed a pricey kickass UV filter, and I am so very grateful that L found him, though I am aghast that I am writing checks like a drunken sailor on the freaking house two weeks after losing my job. It was absolutely necessary - the pond, when sparkling and full of lovely bright fishies, is a bonus that comes with the house. When it was in its previous state, an algae festival, it looked like a foul green mosquito breeding tank and would send me running away screaming if I were a buyer. Now it's so nice! You can sit on the patio in the evening, hear the water trickle over the rocks and admire the many healthy BIG goldfish. When I add some plants it'll be even nicer. The new filtration system is brainlessly low-maintenance, and comes with Pond Guy's phone number just in case. He gave me some cheap and inspired ideas on how to dress it up to make it look really natural and not like what it is, a hard-shell plastic preformed pond with a bunch of 19 cent Petsmart goldfish and their descendants (they do aspire to be koi). Now that my beloved but very hard on the landscaping granddog is living elsewhere, I can invest some time and money in a few plants and such to make the pond area really special and inviting. And I will stand over Dudley when he visits. I love you granddog, but after I bust my ass fixing up this yard, you dig, you will be sorry.

And I'm working on CAP's 100 things to do before I die list challenge. I came up with 70 so far. I have to keep reminding myself that this list is things to do before I die, not things to do in 2008, because with each item I start thinking, "Okay, if I just sleep 3 hours at night...." But that's not the point. It's a wish list, an idea list, a dream list. NOT a writ in stone TO DO LIST. Must keep my Type-A-ness in line. I am not going to share the entire list because it is personal, but I am amused at how some of the items on it are really "shallow" and girly. It is a mix of professional, social, and personal goals, and also has light things, like take time for bubble baths and facials and keep my nails in good shape level shallow. It's an interesting exercise in focusing on the things that you would like to have in your life. What can I say - if you live my life, shallow is a shining goal to shoot for.