In anticipation of next week’s Key (South)West holiday, Someone is doing a major tidying up of the house. Earlier his week he moved all the furniture out of the way to shampoo the rugs and carpets. They were sehr schumtzig; it was some job.

Meanwhile, the house exterior is being painted. The Homeowner’s Association is rather precise in what colours are allowed. We chose the lightest colour available (for the hot Phoenix summer); the colour comes with a green trim. I hope it doesn’t look like a Bill Knapp’s when it is concluded.  Already there is “talk”: one neighbor tactlessly told us another neighbor ‘likes the colour, but not in this neighborhood’.  I imagine she said the same thing about us when we moved into the area.

Next stop: the grocery and the liquor store. We like to keep a well stocked bar. I don’t think we are great drinkers, but the Midwest in us gets us anxious about guests asking for something and we won’t have any. In response to this awful shame state, we get one of everything. Apparently the bottle of brandy is very old and not ‘quality’. Neither one of us drinks the stuff. We hope some nice salesman will guide us towards the “Summer Rain” of brandy.  We also need a good quality tequila (no rubbish). The last bottle seems to have evaporated.

Harper is next; she needs an appointment for getting her nails clipped and a bawth. She is also due to have her “anal glands expressed”.  I won’t go into the details, lest Spo-fans are eating their breakfasts. It is a simple maneuver which we could do ourselves, but gladly pay others to do for us. If I enjoyed doing procedures I would have stayed in surgery.

The term “Expressing my anal glands” is useful for those times when are driving and  the other cringes his nose and rolls down the window and looks sourly at you.

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