"Where is your house?" he asked without preamble.
Now normally, such a question out of the blue would be strange, or even slightly disturbing. In this case, knowing the backstory makes it all make sense. See, back before Christmas, Edna decided to surprise me by showing up at my house and putting up my outside lights for me. However, Edna went down the wrong road. By the time she figured that out and *ahem* messaged me, I'd already gotten the lights up.
I guess Reuben's curiosity got the better of him, so he asked. I told him what street I live on, and he said, "Oh, I know where that is. So-and-So used to live on that road."
"And I'm living in So-and-So's house," I replied. Yep, the name he called was the previous owner of my house! I explained to him that after So-and-So's widow decided to move closer to her son, I'd bought the house. He knew exactly where it was, because the previous owners used to attend the same church as Edna and Reuben.
Sometime later, I had to go to tubing, and stopped by Edna's machine. I told her about my conversation with Reuben, and she said, "Oh! I didn't know it was So-and-So's house! No wonder there's so much weird stuff in it." I guess the previous owner's reputation preceded him.
I thought that was a nifty coincidence. Now they know where I live, and any time they want to come -- say, mow the yard or cut up firewood or something, I certainly won't turn them away.
The good news is, getting back into a routine seems to have eased my homesickness a bit. Yesterday was the first day I haven't bawled like a baby since I got back. I did tear up just a bit, but I didn't completely break down. And I'm starting to get excited about remodeling my house again, only this time, it's with an eye to selling it instead of staying it it. For example, I'm not a big fan of open concept, but it's all the rage these days. That means, when it comes time to remodel, I'm going to go in that direction. The bad news is, I've still got that huge credit card bill to pay off before I can even think of doing any major renovations on the house.
The good news is, Supervisor told me this morning that we are already scheduled to work every Saturday this month. "Good!" I said. "My checking account is starting to squeak, it's so tight."
In other news, Squeaky is completely on wet food now. I'd had some of each -- dry and wet food -- out for her and was letting her eat what she wanted. All evening yesterday, I watched her straining to poop, so before bed, I took all the dry food up. The stuff I soaked in chicken broth is her only option at the moment. Next time I go to the store, I'm going to get some regular canned cat food and start mixing that in with what I already have. If she doesn't get any better in a few days, I'll carry her on in to the vet.
The bad news is, she has decided she doesn't like her new bed any more. I think I've figured out why. When I had the Christmas tree up, I'd had to slide Rylea's love seat over a bit to make room for it. Where it was made a sort of concealed, almost cave-like space around the bed. Now that the tree is down, that space is gone. I guess the bed is too out in the open for her now. She hasn't been in it since I scooted the love seat back into it's regular spot.
I've got a large cardboard box that I think I'm going to try to make a sort of screen around the bed for her, and see if she likes that.
And lastly, the first of the things I ordered with my Christmas money has arrived:
I might have to switch out the chain, since that one is so very thin, and I don't want to lose this. Other than that, it's perfect.
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