Anyway, here I am, blogging from my real hometown - not New London, CT but rather Ypsilanti, MI. For those of you unfamiliar, that's IP-silanti, NOT YIP-silanti. I lived in Ypsi for almost 26 years before moving to Connecticut, so perhaps you can understand why I was a little bit shell-shocked during the first six months of our move.
So here I am back, back in my town that once boasted the high school with no walls. We also boast one of the world's most phallic landmarks, our infamous water tower. Perhaps Ypsilanti's most illustrious accomplishment in recent memory is managing to completely ignore the effort by some idiot to rebrand the town as "Hip, Historic, HIP-silanti." (Don't people understand the minute you label something as hip it is no longer hip? And don't they understand that "HIP-silanti" sounds really, really lame?)
So here Noe and I are, en route to Indianapolis later this morning, where we will stay until Christmas Eve morning and then come back to Ypsi.
Part of the fun of a holiday time layover in Ypsi is staying at my parents' house, usually with a various relative or two from the UP who may be down to pick up one of their kids from the aiport. This year, it was my Uncle Jim and cousin Mary, haling from Hessel, MI (population 300), down to pick up my cousin Jimmy when he flies in from Texas this morning (air force).
So, not only do you end up with seven people staying one not-very-large tri-level, you also have my parents' and sister's menagerie of pets. The seven people share the house with two dogs and five cats, all with extreme personalities and some with personality disorders. In no particular order of preference, last night we put up with:
Faygo, a pit bull rescued from the streets of Detroit and probably the best-behaved dog my family has ever owned. Also note the giant head:
Toby, the Jack Russell Terrier Kristen has been parading around horse shows for the last six years and craves attention and approval from all. He also allows himself to occasionally be stuffed into various articles of clothing, such as puff vests.
Sill, formerly Lucille, the slightly overweight and extremely needy gray dilute tortoiseshell cat that has adopted Noe as her own.
Foster, who used to be MY cat, but due to his inability to get along with other animals, was left in Michigan when Noe, Ralph, Buns, and I departed for Connecticut. (So naturally I left him at a house with six other animals.) Foster slept with Noe last night, and it was a little rough - Foster sometimes drools and often bites. And I should probably mention that he weighs almost 20 pounds. He's my linebacker.
Last but not least, we have the world's number-one bastard, Junior. Junior started out as an extremely cute, fluffy, blue-eyed orphan kitten in Paul Meyer's barn. After Kristen convinced my dad to let her keep him, he got huge, thinned out, his face grew pointy and his eyes turned yellow. He now resembles a weasel both in looks and temperment.
So now we prepare to depart for Indianapolis, where, after last night at the zoo, a five-year old nephew sounds downright calm and peaceful. I'll continue my blogging throughout the holidays, so tune in for more adventures from the homefront.