Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Many Little Helpers

There has been much hustle and bustle going on at Bulldogge Manor this week, yet not by me (except on Monday when I left the house to escape it, and moseyed this way and that under the hot sun with Owen in his push-chair.)  We are converting from an oil furnace to a gas furnace and adding central air, which in this age of global weirding has become a necessity in Philly.

And because we have three pets, it is always a bit of a challenge to have workers in the house, especially when they are working in the basement, or as Posy thinks of it, the forbidden, and therefore very alluring, chamber.  We have a makeshift pet fence across the doorway to the basement, and of course Posy lurks right there hoping that she can run through when you open it a crack.  Meanwhile Dorothy, always a floozy, wanted to cover all the workmen in kisses, and help them with whatever they were doing.  And when they cut a hole in our living room floor to add a return vent, or some such vent, they had to alert us to the fact that Plum then sat by the hole and kept putting his paw through it and feeling around, and then soon the purple head and yellow eyes followed.

Amazingly enough, Owen was able to nap through earsplitting noise and drilling and shaking and rumbling both in the morning and afternoon.  I don’t know how this happened, since sometimes he’ll wake up if a pet hair falls to the floor.  But I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.  He slept on Monday; and I was glad.

And because Sean is the ant and I am the grasshopper, while I was reading a novel, Sean started a new home improvement project, painting the shed, or as we call it, the barn.  And now it looks more like a barn, what with its spiffy new barn-red coat!  Here it is half completed:


Martha said...

ooh! lovely red barn!

Elisabeth said...

We got a new fridge and stove this week and Ryan was horrified to discover that the delivery men had propped the doors open. He had to go around and do a cat count, which is challenging when you've got 5 and 4 of them are terrified of everything new and rush off to hide. He couldn't find Fergus, who is the scaredest of all. I said it was impossible to imagine Fergus dashing through an open door, and sure enough, eventually he was found cowering under the bed. But not before we trolled the bushes outdoors. (Dark cat, dark under the bed, so he wasn't spotted on the first sweep through the house.) Puck is the only one to love a house project and a stranger. He always wants to be right in the middle of the plumber's or electrician's visit.