Stuck inside these four walls

The new owners of the place where I currently rest my weary head are an ambitious lot. I'm used to doing stuff on my own that usually renters just wouldn't do - replace old screens on doors and windows, faucet work in the kitchen, that kind of stuff.

My home repair items got a little more ambitious after my Katrina recovery work, when I realized that I was (1) good at manual labor and (b) I enjoyed manual labor. As such, I've re-caulked the entire shower and tub, replaced doorknobs and, when I realized that I REALLY disliked the split-door that separated the dining room from the kitchen, I just removed it totally and put it in the garage.

Now, ya' may be thinking "geez - she must live in a total dump to have to do all that stuff" but - point of information - I've lived here for more than 14 years. And the previous owners/landlords were two brothers in their late 60s who lived about 100 miles away and they inherited the building from their mother. They never wanted to be landlords, which is good 'cause while they were nice guys, they were kinda not-so-great at the whole "lording over the lands" thing.

The new owners, however, have taken an active interest in their purchase. They've owned this space for less than 30 days, and have already redone the landscaping, installed a watering system for whatever they decide to plant eventually, replaced all the garage doors (which is still a head-scratcher for me as there was nothing wrong with the old ones), and today, they're having the building water blasted and prepared for painting, which they expect to have occur tomorrow and throughout the weekend.

Since I had to move Jake out of the driveway prior to the work crew arriving, I made sure to get my morning coffee earlier than usual and did my best to prepare the indoor cat (aka "Big Cat #1") for the strange noises that lay ahead. The outdoor/indoor cat (aka "Tiny Cat #2") took far more convincing. (Trying to cajole a cat to come inside all day when it is sunny and warm outside is a patience-sucking task indeed.)

The crew started by sealing off all the windows with plastic and began to lightly sand and brush the obvious stuff away. ( I guess that huge garden spider who lives underneath the roof line on the back deck will NOT be around anymore.) No one indoors was bothered by the sounds, until about 9:30am, when Tiny Cat #2 requested to be let out. Actually - no - scratch that.

Demanded. She demanded to be let out. I tried playing with her, which worked for about 4 minutes. I tried bribing her with treats, which worked for about 3 minutes. I tried reasoning with her, which she scoffed at. Finally, with her meowing to each and every thing I said, I tossed her into the bedroom where Big Cat #1 lay comatose.

When I checked 14 minutes later, everyone was passed out. I had won.

Around Noon after the mailman came by, I opened the door only to realize that all the doors were also sealed up in plastic. Trapped. *gasp* All day.

Now, I've had days where I've decided to just hide out - but I can't recall not having the option to go out and do things. Without relying on my own vehicles, I can still walk to get an ice cream, or grab a bus to a bookstore, or call a friend for a mid-morning coffee run. And I didn't want to do those things ... until now.

Now I wanna go to the Western wear shop that I knew as a child but haven't been to in years and see if they still carry those cowboy hats I've always wanted but never got around to getting for myself. Now I wanna go get an ice cream and eat it while strolling through downtown, maybe stopping to sit on a bench while folks go about their business. Now I wanna go put air in the tires of that bike that's been in my garage for more than a decade and take it for a spin.

Guess Tiny Cat #2 had the right idea all along, but let's not tell her. She's still asleep and I don't wanna argue with her anymore today if possible.