M. went to school and I drove to Roseville to the MALL! I am a 1 1/2 hr. drive to the mall so shopping does not happen very often. Anthropologie opened a couple of months ago, along with a Whole Foods. And, because my girlfriend picked up M. and kept her for the afternoon, I could take my time and enjoy my day. I swear I was the happiest person in the mall. Shopping all by myself is such an indulgence I feel guilty even typing about it. But, I will go on. I know it is Christmas, but the sale rack at Banana Petites was too good to pass up. 3 dresses later I am walking out, on my way to the real treasure trove; anthropologie. There, I mingled around tables, racks, shelves filled with my version of material paradise. I started piling clothes on my arm to try on, because even though I am supposed to be shopping for others, I started telling myself stories about all the reasons I needed clothes instead. Ok, only clothes on sale I am saying to myself. Sale clothes, don't buy full price. Ok, where is the stupid sale room? Why is the sale room so crowded? I am going to elbow my way in because I need that sweater. People, I need more space to find my size, so move out of the way. Don't you know this is a special day for me? I don't ever get to just go shopping when I feel like it. Holy cow, wooden ducks. I must have those wooden ducks. Only in anthropologie would I find wooden ducks. Life size.... Yes, if I could live in an anthropologie world, I would. I spent about an hour floating, smiling, cooing really. Yes, cooing for sure.
And then, the SKUNK.
Skunks and I have unusual karma. Mostly we interact alone. D my love, my husband, my toxic chemical taker carer is somehow always absent when the skunks are really imposing. When living at Shoboan, a skunk brushed by me, skimming my cheek while sleeping in bed. It scrambled under the bed, pooped and scared the crap out of me. That is a situation a many other people have skills to deal with, but not me. That night D was out of town working. So, I took me and the cat into the other room, opened the doors for the skunk and it was gone in the morning. And that started the skunk karma. Since then there has been a cat spraying and numerous other close calls. But today, after my lovely restful shopping trip, we meet again. I come home to feed the cat and drop off groceries before picking up M, and I hear the cat hiss while walking out the door. I knew instantly it was a skunk. Oh geez. I get down on the floor, and there it is, under my white couch. My white couch! Don't spray. Whatever happens, just don't spray. I am not ready to part with the couch just yet. I get the cat, shut him in our room and close all other room doors. Then, open all the sliding glass doors and leave. Major flaw on my part; I did not take the cat door out of the den, so when I get home the skunk has moved from the living room to the den. D. has since arrived home, and become very frustrated with my mistake of not removing the cat door. It sits now, under the couch listening to very loud punk rock music, courtesy of D. Hopefully it will get sick of the noise and leave. Hopefully.