Weekending

FurGirl is no longer a half-shorn pooch. As you can see in the photo, the S-Man finished the job and she is now practically fur free. If you click on the photo for an enlargement (and probably even if you don't), you can see her pink skin peeping through what little fur she has left. If I can ever manage to get the old fur drifts up, there won't be more for a good while, praise the lord.

I think FurGirl has finally figured out the whole camera thing. She has begun looking into the lens and holding still with not too much coaxing on my part understanding, at last, that such behavior in that situation will very likely result in praise and treats. She does still have a tail, by the way, albeit one that would look more natural on a rat in its naked and decidedly un-plume-like state. It's just that she's wagging the thing so fast it has disappeared into a blur (You can't expect a FurGirl not to express her enthusiasm somehow.)

Today, with the move-in of our newest tenant, both of our downstairs apartments are officially rented and this, too, is a big relief. Since we undertook the additional renovations necessary for the units in the spring, this is the first time in a good six months that we are completely leased up. Not a minute too soon considering my currently somewhat uncertain prospects. Yay.

The S-Man and I spent last night deep into Season Three of Grey's Anatomy (warning: very outdated spoiler ahead). This show continues to impress me with its ability to make me cry almost every episode. Even when I don't want to. Even when I see it all coming.

While I thought the two-part story about the whole exploding ferry boat was a little much, I was still sucked in by Meredith's experience in afterlife limbo. Death is one of my themes (according to self exploration I undertook while reading The Artist's Way-"All that Jazz", anyone?), and I can't get enough of the dramatization of the experience. I saw the dead dog coming, but still? Loved it.

The moment Meredith broke the news to her briefly lucid mother that she was an insitutionalized Alzheimer's patient? Dear God, seriously good stuff. I felt the episode was a little stretched for content overall, but the bit with her mother dying and meeting her at the edge? Wow. Again, saw it coming, but loved it anyway.

Of course, we have our complaints. And they are named George and Izzy. What the hell is up with this story line? Both the S-Man and I remain traumatized by the sight of these two waking up together naked and hung over.

In fact, I am over George in general. His character this season has none of the endearing redeeming qualities he exhibited in seasons passed. No, George is now the Official Whiner of Gray's Anatomy and someone needs to push him down an elevator shaft or hang him from the space needle or something. There's certainly no use getting Izzy, a character that is still engaging, involved in the quagmire that is George. We'll continue to watch, but expect more bitching if this tragedy of a story line continues. 'Nuff said.

Lastly, you're probably aware of this website, but if not, you need to add it to your favorites. It is the First Chapter section of the New York Times. Here you can read the first chapters of all the great books they review. If you go there, don't expect to want to tear yourself away any time soon. This is waaaay better than browsing in the aisle at your favorite bookstore.