Cat Nap

My uncle John looked into the TV room the other day, took one last disgusted look at the decrepit, stained couch and announced that he was going to Ikea to get a new one. I can not begin to describe the golden bubble of joy that in that moment began to fill me at the though of never ever again sitting on that couch. It was dark blue long ago, but has now become a dirty brownish color from the countless throw up stains, mud, food, blood, snot, fart fumes, and other gross things that 3 small boys and generations of cats can do to a couch. The new couch is bright red and squishy, comes with a matching chair, and is, as of this second, grossness free. We'll see how long that lasts. In an attempt to dissuade the cats from clawing the pristine arms of the couch, John bought one of those scratchy cardboard floor pallet things that you sprinkle with cat nip. Pete, the kitten, ate so much of the cat nip that he passed out on top of the scratchy thing in a drug-induced stupor from which he has yet to fully recover.

Sara/h all 'round

I'm in the Falls Church library writing a paper on radical lace and subversive knitting (well clearly, I WAS writing a paper, as I am now procrastinating by doing this), and I just had to stop and write about a conversation I had with my great aunt Sara. Sara is my paternal grandfather Isa's older sister, and today is her 100th birthday. She is an amazing person, as is her ever light hearted and wonderful husband Lou. Neither of them can hear a thing, which makes phone conversations challenging, but they are completely mentally sharp and truly happy to be alive. While the men on both sides of my family tend to die young of strange forms of cancer and various heart conditions, the women seem to go on forever. This gives me great hope for my own longevity, despite my growing fear of becoming senile and decrepit. As a twenty-year old I often fear that I am losing my mind, so what will I be like at the ripe old age of a century? By the way, Mom, Sara remarked to me how shocking it was to be informed that she was a century old. She had never though of it quite like that. My dad was really remarkable about remembering to call people on special occasions, and Sara said how wonderful it was to hear from the two Galper women on a day when she surely would have heard from him. I am feeling very Galper proud today.