Erratica Reduex

 The exterminator is here,. spraying for ants.  And while he's spraying fairly standard "take it to teh nest" stuff on the outside, on the inside of the office he's been spraying a fully organic mixture of cloves, wintergreen, and a few other natural oils.  It's nice- it's like a really upscale version of the clove cigarette's I used to smoke.  Actually, it smells a little like, but a lot better than the goth coffee shops I sued to hang around in.

According the the exterminator, it's as effective as toxic sprays, and he massively prefers it, because it's completely non-toxic to humans.  So it's green, safe to use, and smells really nice.  I like this.

 I have to admire a bit that Dorothy has graduated up from pouncing on my toes in pursuit of bedmice.  This morning, around three-ish, she turned to chasing larger prey- my entire feet.  Nor was she dissuaded much by my sliding my feet toward her- a stunt that in the old days would have scared her off.

Also, in the "log rolling" category, she's somehow managed to learn how to stay on top of me when I shift positions, without standing up.  when i did slid her off me, I checked by feel, and where normally she'd be stretching indignantly, this morning she remained cuddled up ion the space between Sandy and I.

It's all very cute.  Adorable in fact.

I may have to start sleeping in the bathtub.

...to get the pigeons out from the crawlspace.

M's office is the only one in our section that has windows that open. As M is up in the North county office today, I'll just remove one of the ceiling panels from her office, open the windows wide, shut the door, and wait.

Wind and oncoming rainstorm notwithstanding, this idea can't possibly fail, since it's not like any of the piles of paper placed all over her office will blow out or anything. I'm brilliant!

So this weekend at Ani-magic was my wife's first try at Cosplaying, which meant that after a week of panicked last-minute costume assembly, she got to pose in her Rosenmaiden outfit...outside. At a convention out in the desert. In the afternoon heat. My wife, who can't sweat, in a beautiful, victorian layered hoop-skirt outfit.

While taking pictures of the group, I looked up to see a vulture gliding overhead, only about fifty feet above. And then another. And then three more. And then four more, all in a line. Now that, I thought to myself, if it isn't a bad omen, nothing is, and gave up hope of contest awards. Instead I started worrying about whether my wife would even survive.

Naturally, her group won best of show.

I guess the vultures wern't so much omen-like, as simply window shopping. They were probably gliding long, going "Hmm...look at all those fans. Surely one or two of the herd are going to keel over, leaving us a nice feast..."

And yeah, I'm extremely proud. Make that EXTREEEEEEMLY proud!

It's going to be weird getting back to a normal schedule at our house. And she's mentioned that she's going to need the computer for the next three days. Hmm- maybe not so weird as ominous. I see omens of a lack of night-time computer use in my future.