good advice

Alright. So by MONDAY I should have a good flooring update for y'all. BECAUSE I KNOW YOU CARE ABOUT THIS blah blah blah flooring junk blah blah. Other fun and exciting topics I can discuss ad nauseum include pregnancy, party planning, and what I ate for lunch today (magic salad, cup o noodles, favorite lembas crackers).

The cats appear to be okay. Fergus has two little fingers (are they fingers on a cat?) on each of his front feet that are sort of glued together. When he lifts an arm into the air to try to clean it, he looks startlingly similar to this guy doing this. There isn't much to be done for the pingers, other than to make him a Star Trek uniform, call him Spockgus, and remind him that it's Live Long and Prosper - not Live Long and Hiss at the Humans Because This Situation is Entirely Their Fault and Now Let's Begin Plotting Their Deaths. Spockgus spends a lot of time underneath the bed these days. He might have maps and flowcharts hidden back there, I don't know. Phoebe, on the other hand, has chosen to deal with her apparent torture by the humans in her usual fashion: she's loving us even MORE. Like, the more we seem to inflict pointless pain and humiliation, the more she needs to show us that SHE'S JUST HERE TO LOVE - COME ON, LOVE ME, RUB MY BELLY, I WILL ROLL OVER ON YOUR HEAD.

Besides loving these little creatures beyond reason, I am incredibly thankful to be with Chip. I wasn't strong on Wednesday, not in the least. And yet he told me that I was. That's kindness. That's love.

Have a great weekend, my friends. Live long and prosper.