Need...More...Chocolate

Life has taken a sudden stressful turn at the moment. (Where's the chocolate?) Not the best of timing really -- given the fact that I'm nearly 8 1/2 months pregnant with our third little person.

I'm a fairly relaxed person most of the time... I can get hyper (ask my hubby), but I like to think (or hope, at least?) I've mellowed over time. Kids have a way of doing that to you. Life goes entirely too fast to sweat the "small stuff."

That was last Monday a week ago...

Then came three days later.

We are usually really good at reading the small-print stuff that comes with loans and credit cards and anything else financially related.

But somehow we managed to miss the small print on our car loan that said something about the terms and payment being based on how much we borrowed...so that when I went online to check to see whether our payment scheme had been set up I got a complete shock. The payment due was half-again as much as we originally thought. [Insert scary Psycho music and screams here.]

Hmm...

That put a crimp in an otherwise darn fine plan...and it was too late to return the car.

Okay. Okay. So we need to move around our finances a bit and eat beans on toast only cut way back for awhile.

That was last Thursday...

Then came yesterday...Tuesday.

The doorbell rang, and the mail-lady asked me to sign for a certified letter.

That was a bit of a surprise in and of itself...but it was even more shocking when I saw it was from our borough. [Insert theme from an even scarier movie here.]

Hmm...

Upon opening it, I saw a letter citing us for all sorts of codes violations.


Huh?

Let's back up a minute.

We own a 90-year-old house that we bought in very poor condition. Anyone living around us knows that we've been doing our best for five years to make it better. We've replaced all the windows and painted the front porch and replaced the front steps and planted flowers and kept the lawn mowed. We shovel the snow in front of our house, even though we don't go out that way since our cars are in the back of the house.

It's slow-going, but all the repairs take money. (The windows alone cost over $11,000. We did them in two phases.) It's a "work in progress."

And now this?

We knew our gutters and eaves still needed to be painted, but we hadn't figured out how to do that without a contractor. The money simply wasn't there. But the letter mentioned flaking window paint and an on-site inspection. I'm not sure how an inspector could see "flaking" paint that far up from the ground level but...

So I guess we will have to be find the money now since we have 30 days to make this right -- slap on some paint and fix a downspout -- or we'll be fined $1,000.

The funny thing is...we got a flyer on our door for a roofing/painting contractor...only a day or two before this letter.

Hmm...

I'm off for more chocolate...or maybe I should make that beans on toast? It's cheaper, I guess.

Just Cat-astrophic

My heart is aching at the moment...and writing is so therapeutic.

I'm a very justice-oriented person -- though I'm not sure I'm always just in my actions. In my brain, I am. That's one reason I've always enjoyed watching Judge Judy and The People's Court. Justice reigns on those shows.

We live on a street of very quiet people -- not necessarily quiet in volume, they just stick to themselves...or those they already know well.

I'm not sure, but I think we bought the "cursed" house. From the moment we moved in, we faced unfriendliness -- or surface friendliness at best. No one on our street came to welcome us to the neighborhood. We said hello and sometimes got a response. In the end, we've stuck to ourselves...and the very friendly neighbors who live behind us.

A bench that was in the yard when we looked at the house suddenly disappeared just before we moved in...and then reappeared in the next-door neighbors' backyard. When we asked about it, they said the former owners "gave" it to them. Funny thing was, they didn't know the owners. It sat in the corner of the backyard for four years and finally rotted. Guess they felt guilty?

Now we've lost a pet to the same demise.

We adopted a cat during the winter. It was cold outside, and he was content to stay indoors with us and mooch food and attention. We called around to various vets and the animal shelter to be sure he wasn't already owned and reported as lost. We certainly didn't want to keep someone else's pet.

When it got warmer, he began to pace...and pace and pace. It got frustrating. So we decided to put a collar and flea collar on him and let him outdoors. He came and went as he pleased and slept all afternoon on our front-porch seat.

Then he disappeared.

This morning I overheard a neighbor talking to another neighbor about taking him in. I was shocked. It was the bench all over again.

(He had TWO collars on...wouldn't you guess he had a home?)

So after awhile, I worked up the courage and went out to the cat-thief neighbor who was weeding her garden. I asked her if she'd seen a black cat, that he'd been missing for awhile.

She asked if we owned him, and I explained about how we'd adopted him, how he didn't like staying inside, and how we'd put the collars on him so that people would understand that he was owned.

She said, "No." She hadn't seen him in a few days.

Then she immediately disappeared inside. Guess she felt guilty?

Later on, I heard her talking again with the same neighbor about it.

Now, I feel sick to my stomach, like I did as a child on the playground when my supposed friends talked about me. I'm at a loss as to what to do. This other neighbor knew that we took the cat in. She also knew that we weren't getting attached to him in case he had an owner somewhere...yet we were feeding him and taking care of him.

My justice-oriented side is screaming that he does have an owner now!

Anybody know Judge Judy's number?