Which I'd then have to maintain. See what I'm saying?

You don't need a nice yard. Just a yard.

You don't need a nice yard. Just a yard.

Maybe my next place.

You don't need a nice yard. Just a yard.

From my experience, once you have a dog, you never describe your yard as nice again. Unless yellow ammonia burns on the grass, dried bits of poop and small, doggie-dug holes count as "nice".

Our yard was nice.

Clapping works for Mister Kitty when he's venturing into trouble territory- be it going in the closet to rip out hems of my stuff (closet now lives closed) or to certain surfaces to push things off. But I think he's a) kinda deaf and b) thinks hand movement means he gets pettings.

I'm still rather pissed at him for putting pulls in my shiny yellow kitchenmade towel that buttons around handles with shiny cherry and lemon printed fabric (does that make sense? Mom got them from me at Honfest and it's just so BRIGHT and CHEERFUL and I'd love to have a cheery kitchen.)

Devi just ignores me unless she's trying to get my attention. Then she's very vocal and affectionate. I like the early morning (or nap) sessions of her burrowing her head into my palm, gently nipping at the pad to encourage me to rub her ears as she purrs.

You know what's nice? Spending the evening reading National Geographic's latest on Africa and getting old memories tickled. The hippo carcass and my disbelief. The plateaus outside Lusaka during the eclipse and wee Messy in eclipse glasses and her bright green dress and endless curiosity (she thought my hematite ring fascinating, but not as pretty as her blue glass beads. Which, I grant, were an unusually luminous shade of blue. But the ring is my grandma's so...)

Someday, I want to go back, especially to Mozambique, but with no group, just someone familiar and NOT dis...dis..., well, someone realistic but seeking.

Our yard was nice.

We do have two dogs and a fairly smallish yard. Plus, we're very lazy. I suppose it could be nice if we wanted to work at it.

small, doggie-dug holes count as "nice".

Small holes? I guess I missed those while side-stepping the ditches and craters.

Seriously, though, they're not that much trouble. Which I'd've pointed out earlier except I had to go take someone for a walk. And I'm sure I have more to say on this issue, but I have to go pick up the dead flowers that someone retrieved from the trash and is currently choming into little bits. No trouble, though. Hey! Stop tha

Today was an exercise in waiting. A short wait before my interview (in which I picked up an extra job in Nov and possibly Feb), a longer wait while some unseen person troubleshot the gift registry computers at Target, an uncomfortable wait at Barnes & Noble while paramedics were called for a man having chest pains, and a long, sleepy wait at Kinko' for new resumes to be copied. All that waiting has made me tired.

My parents' main problem with their late dog, Goober, was that she ate the heads off the drip water system. Instead of spraying down, they went UP. So the yard was dotted with 6inch clay pots over the drip things. But they don't have a lawn, they do xeriscape. Patio, native groundcover, trees, shrubs, flowers, clay/sand and the ever present craxy desert weeds which get pulled and burned.

Goobs did have a place where she was allowed to dig (cleverly disguised by desert willow) so that part was a non-issue.

As much as I like where I live, I miss the xeriscape. Sounds strange, but....desert is me.

I don't have to go to work tomorrow.