Here Kitty Kitty
Posted by thedarwinexception on October 12, 2007
So it’s been COLD here. In the 40’s. Cold enough that we’ve turned the new furnace on once or twice and we’ve had a couple loads of wood in the woodstove to ‘take the chill off”. Which makes me kind of worried about the zombie lady – because it’s got to be cold over there, too. And she doesn’t have any conventional heat source – since the furnace won’t run without electricity, and well, she sure as hell isn’t using a space heater.
She’s been coming over most mornings and I fill up a thermos of coffee for her. Of course, I don’t know how to make coffee, so all I do is take a pot of water and run it through the grounds that Paul has used that morning. (ewwwwww…) I keep meaning to ask him how much coffee he puts in there, so I can some day make her a fresh pot, but she doesn’t seem to be complaining, so…whatever…..
She came over Friday and asked Paul for the pot of coffee, since he was home and answered the door. I told him “yeah, she comes over every morning and asks…,.” Unlike my usual practice of letting her stand in the living room while I run the water through the used grounds, he actually did make her a fresh pot and told her “here, give me the thermos, and I’ll bring the coffee over when it’s done.”
When the coffee was done and he brought it over to her, he yelled to me from downstairs before he even got in the door “KIM, KIM, COME HERE, You won’t Fucking believe this shit!”
So I went downstairs, and he was all excited and he says “God DAMN! Don’t light a fucking match over there!” I didn’t know what the hell he was yelling about, so he explained.
Apparently her source of heat is a gas grill that she has set up in her living room, and with no ventilation, the fumes are pretty bad in there. Paul told her “Look, you need to open a fucking window or something in here before these fucking fumes explode.” So she opened her back door and sat out in the backyard for a while – with her Thermos. And see that tree? That’s PART of the one that Paul had to cut down – the one she was attempting to cut down with the hacksaw (after reading the instructions for the saw so it wouldn’t fall on my house.)
But the BIGGER news that Paul was all excited about was what she was eating. Remember how she said “I eat the cans”? Yeah, well…. there’s more to that story.
When Paul knocked on her back door, she tried to hide the little can she was eating from, but Paul saw it. It was a can of cat food. And the can was open and she had a fork in her hand. Paul said he almost puked.
I said “Well, are you sure she was eating it?” And he said “Kim, Does she *HAVE* a cat?”
I’m thinking it’s time for a n intervention. Seriously. I’m really thinking of calling that Social Services place and having them do a welfare check on her. You know, to check on her welfare. Maybe they can convince her that she needs to pay National Grid their money and get her lights turned back on. Because she can’t survive there all winter on the heat form a gas grill. I don’t know how she managed last year, but she isn’t in Russia anymore – this is America, and we don’t eat cat food and not have a phone or a TV. That’s not American. If she wants to live like that, well, she needs to go back to Russia.