Georgia on my mind

I'm what you might call all caught up on my grading.  This leads to all sorts of mumbo jumbo happening.

1.  Did you know that Augusta, Georgia is in the top 10 list of most affordable housing (major) markets in the country?  So says the boy who read it on one of those fab Yahoo stories that just cycle in some bewitching manner across my screen every time I check my email.  There's just about any bit of the random and the arcane that you'd like to know that you can glean from those.  Well.  Augusta, Georgia roughly falls geographically in my "Yes, I think that I would live there someday" area of the country.  This is to say that in my old (enough) age, I'm d-o-n-e with brutal cold, with puddles of slush smeared throughout my house, and with driving on black ice.  I'm beyond irritated at marshmallow-y jackets and raw, irritated skin.  I'm frustrated getting dressed in the morning when deciding what combination of layers to huddle in for the day and irritable at night when everything requires huddling under blankets until some warmth finds its way in again.  No amount of snuggly images of roaring fires, mugs of hot chocolate, and bright sweaters will provide enough salve for this case of cold weather woes.  Again, I say...well.  Augusta, Georgia is somewhat warmer, I hear.  Charleston, South Carolina has its moments of being downright balmy come the 6 months of the year that those of us call "winter."  Savannah, Georgia would likely provide a bit of comfort for my prunish little soul.  Well.

2.  We love our fuzzy little boos, but they have moments where they just don't have anything going for them except their sweet little furry faces.  "Hey, Mom-oo, glad to see you back tonight.  I'm going to sit in your doorway and give you a sad little squeak that means, 'Give me a treat right now and maybe I'll say please with a little head-butt to emphasize my point.'  Oh, BTW...I threw up on your comforter.  And your sheets.  But I was thinking about you, so I threw up between your pillows instead of on your pillows.  Because...love you.  And, I still would like a treat.  Get working on that ASAP.  Please (almost forgot to say that...here's another head-butt which will leave a flurry of white hairs on your black pants...welcome for that, too)."  Me-ow.  And now I am running yet another cycle on my dryer with tennis balls to help pound, fluff and what have you for our down comforter, which (hey hey, lucky us) doesn't have to be dry cleaned.

3.  Fur ball #2, who was seemingly innocent in puke-gate on Mama's comforter, woke me up at 12:30 AM by retching ON ME.  I've had cats for upwards of 20 years, and this was a first.  Let's have a blanket-by-blanket update here.  I'm now without my down comforter (hello friend, this is a must here...refer to #1 above) and weighed down by (count it) 4 new blankets.  But this isn't good enough for el gatitos: let's take away 25% of my blanket replacements.  At 12:30 AM just for meows and nibbles.

Maybe, I could move to Augusta, Georgia and set up shop as a cat wrangler.  I've got some mad skills in CAT 101: Listening to what your cat tells you, even if you don't like the package that the message arrives in.  And my chapped hands would thank me.