As Mary Beth mentioned in her column this week, very good friends of ours are moving to Chatham-Kent this week. Some of their stuff preceded them, and they actually had items in the home they are buying way before they were to move in.
That’s what happens when friends get together. My sister-in-law Jane is selling her home to friends Pete and Arlene. Given the lack of property inventory in C-K, it has worked out well for everyone.
Jane is moving into a smaller space with fewer responsibilities, while Pete and Arlene are sliding into a smaller home from what they had in the City of Kawartha Lakes.
As everyone is downsizing, we became the beneficiaries in several ways. Jane held an estate sale, but also sent clothes, furniture and even a snowblower our way pretty much just because we looked at the items.
All items are greatly appreciated. Our daughter, Brenna, is even eyeing up the snowblower. If she comes out and makes use of that when it’s time to shovel the driveway, I sure won’t complain. I’m sure my love of that new toy will wear off – eventually.
Speaking of new toys, Pete and Arlene had no need of a riding lawn mower anymore. They had about half an acre at their former home, and now have a city yard that has a pool in the backyard.
Knowing my hip issues, our buddies gave us the riding mower. It’s a compact Honda Hydrostatic.
It too has Brenna’s attention.
Where else in Ontario but Chatham-Kent can you fire up the lawn mower on a December day?
That’s what we did on the weekend, and Brenna was the first to take it for a spin. We have a lot of leaves still on the ground and she wants us to leave them to feed the lawn where possible rather than rake them. The shredding of the leaves makes that possible, but I will still have to get some of them off the backyard, as the oak tree leaves a deep layer back there.
So Brenna is interested in mowing the lawn next year. Sweeeeet!
Thanks to our generous friends and family.
Most readers know Finn, our cat, is a character. They may not know he’s a cement head.
He HAS to go outside. It doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or snowing horizontally outside. To him, the outdoors means freedom.
Unfortunately, it apparently doesn’t mean freedom to use his brain.
When he wants in, the little guy will meow rather loudly at all our doors until someone answers. If it’s at night, he might try it once or twice before seeking shelter until we’re awake.
But he knows our schedules and how we’re up around 7 a.m. each morning, so he’ll stay put at a door and meow until we let him in.
The smart thing to do would be to whine at the front door, which is under a porch. Instead, he’ll meow at the back patio door, peering in to see if he can detect any signs of movement.
The problem is he’s exposed to the elements. So I’ve been letting a cold, wet cat into the house recently, the dumbass. I have to towel him off, paying extra attention to his dirty paws, before letting him have full access to the house.
You’d think he’d learn from one morning to the next. Nope. Heck, he doesn’t even learn hour to hour.
On Monday morning, after letting in Mr. Soggybottom at 6:45 a.m., he wanted out an hour later to go back out into the cold rain.
It’s days like that where you would think he’d want to sleep in front of the window and make funny faces at any of the animals that wander by in the rain. Instead, he’s one of the wandering wet ones.
I think he just likes making extra laundry for me to do with all the dirty towels.