Uxorious

Uxorious is my new favorite word.  It's just lovely.  Lookit up, you'll be glad you did.

First off the $%^&*cat did not come home.  We fear it has met an untimely end.  This is bad.  And not good for my reputation.  For the record I have had three cats of my own.  Two met a tragic death, one by raccoon or something and one by my dog. The third, seeing how things were going, bolted.  We had a fourth, but since Steve brought that home without consulting me I don't count it, but it too is d.e.a.d..  You may have heard the story about that, but it sounds a lot funnier (if you will) with a lot of cocktails under yours and my belts.  Without cocktails it's just disgusting and this is a family show.  I am also responsible for the scarpering of a fifth cat, but since it had just scratched me and I had thrown it and it ran away and it wasn't even remotely mine I don't count it either.  I do, however, have the scar to this day.  It looks like this  _________.

So I guess where I was going with this ramble is the stunning fact that my ski bound friend has decided she must take herself off to a horse show and has asked me to house sit again.  Some people just don't learn, but who am I to argue?  In any case, she is down to three dogs and three horses and three ponies.  I can manage this quite happily.  And God willing, none will meet a tragic end.  I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime I have engaged in a war with the property management company who wrote the lease on our house.  So last month they set up a new and improved method of rent collection...on-line payments from their website.  I don't even have to get dressed to pay the rent.  I eagerly signed up, received confirmation that I managed not to screw it up and  waited patiently for the opportunity to pay my tithe.  It so happened that the time to pay occurred while I was in wine country losing the cat.  So I quite cheerily sat down at the computer, accessed the property management website and looked for the "online rent payment" tab.  It was not there.  Nor could I discover any way at all to pay the rent.  I called the office and left a message, because God forbid anyone should be there on a weekend, and said I was trying to pay the rent, what should I do and all that sort of groveling.  In the end I sent a bill payment check to them from my checking account.  What follows next can be succinctly summed up with the simple term...bollocks.  The property manager evidently can't be bothered with the little things like listening to her voice mails from me (5) the messages I left with her assistant (3) or having a conversation with me on the phone that does not include vague threats of late fees unpaid will incur late rent payment status each month till paid.  Now right now Steve is having a cow.  Chill baby, I have not lost my cool with any of this.  I sent a very nice email to the president of the company explaining the situation, the number of times I called them, the trial and error of their online payment system and the "in good faith" efforts I took to fulfill my monetary duty.  I also left a very nice voice message to the el presidente.  And I did this on Monday when I should have been enjoying the flowers and candy...ahem.  It is Wednesday now and I have sent a follow up email to the head honcho and I have yet to hear back from him.  I think this shows an egregious lack of breeding and good manners.  I should know.  I am considering a tasteful written missive to the Better Business Bureau and the Chamber of Commerce.  In the end I will end up paying the late fee, but be assured I will do it grudgingly and in ill humor.  And it will be accompanied by a nasty letter that I will insist be made a permanent record in my file.  So there.  That'll show you.

Tomorrow the spouse, the dogs and I will pile, once again, in the cab of the little pickup and take ourselves off to Fresno for the the first Ram Tap horse trials of 2011.  Now going to a horse show without a horse is not my favorite thing to do.  And I may have mentioned in a previous post how things usually go down with Steve, the "guys" and the poles and standards and what not.  But this weekends weather forecast is promising to add the pleasure of winds and rain, especially on Friday when we will be slogging through the mud and what not trying to get a course of show jumps  set up.  I can lift a regular standard, but I have to hoist it on my back and shuffle with it.  I don't know exactly how much they weigh, but I do know they are heavier wet.  Steve, on the other hand, can carry them in one hand.  Now would you like to es-plain to me why then Steve tosses the poles around willy nilly and I have to be the muscle with the standards?  I could quite easily pick up poles and toss them around hither and thither, but instead I have to grunt and grumble with at least 60 pounds of wood and water on my back.  Oh right, and the sand and mud is sticky so sometimes just getting them off the ground is a full cardio workout.  I suppose I am just getting warmed up for a grand mal meltdown.  Stay tuned.

Speaking of cardio workout.  I  joined a gym this week.  TaDa.!  I see myself in a very short time svelte and fit and toned and half my age.  It happens.  Next week, I think, I should be at my target.  Realistic?  sure.  Because only fitness freaks work at gyms and because I am so out of shape etc. etc. etc., my personal assessment coach is about 20 something, about six feet tall and has 0%  body fat.  To make me feel even more inadequate she also is a graduate of the US Air Force Academy.  They don't let wimps graduate from the academy.  And she is also the head honcho of all things fitness in the club.  She was not impressed, I think, to hear that my goal was to be able to eat as much chocolate as I wanted and not have the "weighty" ill effects.  But I believe in truth in advertising.  So anyway she asked me about a million questions and I stared out in to space and made an effort to answer somewhat truthfully and then, because I hadn't been through enough humiliation yet, she put me on the scale, was struck dumb and asked if that was about the right weight.  I was pretty cranky by then and said I didn't know...I couldn't see the weight because I didn't have my glasses on because I didn't want any extra weight on the weigh machine.  Then she did the body fat assessment.  I gotta stop right here and tell you that having a human bionic woman tsk tsk you about your fat to something or other ratio is not a great way to start the day.  But I bravely manned up and took it and even sat on the recumbent bike for 20 minutes and burned about 5 million calories, well relatively anyway afterwards.  I am a stud.  Be very afraid.   Oh Oh Oh, the best part was she told me that to maintain my weight, and it is grand, I would only have to exercise for about 30 minutes a day four or five times a week.  If, however, I wished to lose weight and become the goddess I know I am, that will require a 60 minute commitment four or five times a week.  I imagine the two or three days a week "off" are for major rehabilitation at the massage table.

Suffice it to say I have used up all my creativeness for the day.  I leave you now breathless waiting to hear how every thing turns out for me.  Rest assured I have no pride and will regale you with my further adventures as they happen.

Cheers,
Squidgy