Yuck it up Wood Pigeon.
We have proper lift off, the nice man from Telecom called at ten past eight this morning and all things interwebby were sorted. Huzzah! I tried to use dial up a few times during the week but it was like trying to perform open heart surgery with a butter knife.
What a strange week, moving is really quite horrible.
I don't know where anything is and I keep waking up because it's so quiet here. The movers got all the furniture out of the apartment-eventually and after taking the top off my bookcase- but couldn't get my desk in here! The hall is too narrow to turn it in so I had to put in into storage. This is verrry annoying as I am now reduced to tippity tapping away at the end of the dining room table. Vile.
The bigger of the cats has tested just about every window and door to see if there is anyway he can get out into the garden. There are big fat slow moving wood pigeons out there, mocking him. It's like watching Clarice and Lector. They wobble around the green thing we laughingly refer to as 'the lawn' looking all superior and shit. He spent a goodly part of yesterday sitting on a window ledge chattering at them and swishing his tail. They spent a goodly part of the day lumbering about right under his nose, like fat grey Boeing 747s.
They're toast as soon as he gets out-especially the one with the limp.
Puddy-who has moved many times- is unperturbed by this one and seems content to laze about under the radiators. She went to the vets yesterday and got her manky ears cleaned out and x-rayed. Although she spent the evening off her trolley, the news is good, no tumours growing.
The one eyed one hid behind the couch for a day and a half after the move but curiosity and bacon won the day and he has now totally bought into the newer greener housier life. He has discovered stairs and thinks they are great crack altogether. He spends most of the day running up and down them, emitting happy cheeps and beeps to himself.
The paramour is talking about building a 'bar-b-cue' and seems to be of the opinion that we will be eating nothing but 'bar-b- cue' as soon as the cold snap ends. This is an alarming development as he never really showed much interest in 'bar-b-cuing' things before now, but he seems very intent. We are heading to Homebase this avo to look at 'bar-b-cues' and talk about 'bar-b-cues.'
There are no shoes involved in this trip. I might cry off and head into town for lunch. I don't like the way his eyes get all shiny whenever he talks about 'bar-be cues'. Next thing he'll be looking for a shiny novelty apron that makes it looks like he is wearing a bikini.