Spring Fever

Although the birth of Grandson #1 is creating a round-the-clock party over in Georgia, things have been pretty quiet over at my end of the world. There is, however, a recent plague of squirmy Spring Fever affecting me and sometimes Cathy. This stems from a visit to Austrian Peter's apartment last Sunday, where I realized that his place is approximately 4,000% nicer than mine. I returned home from the party full of tiramisu, wine and a renewed desire to redecorate the apartment. I presented my ideas in list form to Cathy, taking her on a tour of possible renovations in the apartment. We were forced to compromise several times, and some of my more grandiose ideas were shot down (I can't have creeping ivy throughout the whole house?!), but I'm GETTING A MICROWAVE and I refuse to back down. Why would you not want a microwave? That's wack.

I've also decided to rearrange my room, a complex series of odds-and-ends that may take more concentration to shuffle around than I am willing to give. Ever since I accidentally tore the ONLY wallplug out of the wall and shut off the electricity to the entire apartment, I've had to use an extension cord to supply my room with power. This is both negative and positive: I have to steer clear of the dangling wires and risk electroshock everytime I put my head on the pillow, but I am provided with a new mobility. I can rearrange the room however I would like now that the extension cord travels with me. I'm totally not getting my deposit back from this place.