Keepin' busy.

So I'm coming around on the dog, a bit, and on the fence my dad's just committed to having built to create a dog pen around the back of the house.  I'm still not crazy about that last part, and, depending on how it looks, I may have it taken down again someday assuming I'm able to inherit the house in however many years.  The back stoop, its view, and the way I used to spring off it to run outside to play are a big part of the house for me, but at least my dad's trying very hard and spending a fair amount of money to try to make the fence look good.  And if the dog's not a big digger, maybe I'll plant perennials along it or something.

Speaking of the house, my mom's sister and 18 yr old son are coming to visit for the first time since the son was in diapers, and, needing only such an excuse, I spent most of the weekend out at my parents' cleaning the shelves in my old bedroom.  I'd left them in good shape when I moved out, but years of dust and the cats wreaking havoc really paid their toll.  In addition to the cats batting stuff around and knocking things onto the floor, my mom had started to erect small barriers in ineffectual attempts to keep them away from the most attractive items, and eventually she'd even taken a couple of my larger college paintings and propped them in front of the shelves, which, while failing to keep the cats out, did make it so that my parents couldn't reach and rescue anything that fell.  Then, of course, my dad had started storing crap in front of it all.

So, basically, after tunneling through my dad's book bags, empty shoeboxes, forgotten books and magazines, and various other stored items, and after removing the paintings and finding a place for them in the basement, I was confronted with an almost solid mass of my favorite stuffed animals all smushed and held together on the floor by a mix of dust bunnies and cat fur.  I dusted everyone off, said hello, and proceeded to go through each shelf, dusting and deciding what to throw out, donate, or keep.  My mom kept me company, dropping anvil-sized hints about once every hour reminding me that I was under no circumstances not to take my old college printer with me when I left.  (Joke's on her -- it's on the bottom shelf hidden behind a board game.  I'm waiting to see how long it'll take her to notice.)  Everything looks gorgeous now -- I even polished the wood -- and my dad is forbidden from storing anything directly in front of the shelves ever again.  (We'll see how well that works.)

The best part is I ran into a bunch of old printed emails from approximately 1999, mostly from Catherine, including her invitation (written entirely in rhyme) to the birthday party where we all went to see Mystery Men.  I'll be scanning some of the best of these when I get a chance.

And, inspired by all this, my dad has started working out ways to better arrange the furniture in there (it looks kind of awkward right now).  They bought a twin-sized foldaway a few years ago, which, frankly, is just too big for the space, but I think we've come up with a way for things to fit better, and I'm pretty excited that my old room might start looking nice again. :)