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Snowpocalypse Nowish and Barfy Boots

Song Lyric of the Day:

Let the time time pass / ‘Cause we’re never getting old

Enrique Iglesias (featuring Pitbull) / “I Like It”

We here in Knoxville and the surrounding areas are waiting for this alleged big snow that’s heading our way. I say alleged because, as anyone who lives here knows, the forecast changes almost hour-to-hour when you live in the Tennessee Valley. It’s always a given that the Smokies will get snow, but for the rest of us it’s almost always a crapshoot. The forecast is calling for anywhere from 2-5″ falling here in Knoxville. I’ll believe it when I see it. And photoblog it again if I do (El Troubacabra loves playing in the snow, and I love photographing him in it.)

Of course, just to be safe, I need to throw my water-resistant boots in the wash tonight so they’ll be ready to wear; they’re these cute Ralph Lauren Polo Sport boots I bought on clearance at DSW in Virginia Beach a few years ago. You see, when I went outside the other day to take pictures of that snow, I made it maybe two feet into the backyard before stepping into dog poop. (I know, I know — my fault for not doing regular sweeps for land mines.) Anyhoo, I cleaned the affected boot as much as I could on the grass and came inside, leaving my boots on the rug in the sunroom for a bit intending to finish cleaning it up later. Fast forward to a few hours later when Caleb started to get sick in the living room. I herded him and we ran to the sunroom as fast as we could so he could get outside before he barfed. Well, we didn’t quite make it. No sooner were we in the sunroom than Caleb slipped on the wood floor, stumbled onto the rug and bleccccrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhed right on and into my boot. The boot that didn’t have poop on it. The clean boot. I’m pretty sure the expletive I yelled is still bouncing around in space, I yelled so loud. Caleb then managed to make it outside in time to barf up about a teaspoon’s worth of yak on the deck. Meanwhile, about a gallon was soaking on and in my boot. Not to mention the splashback that hit the other boot.

I won’t even get into the expletives I yelled later that night when my cat Belle managed to projectile vomit off the side of the leather sofa and still hit the leather. At least I moved her just in the nick of time when she was going to be sick again, right after she went and sat on Coraline’s gym and began to gag. Just another night at home with the Lee pets, I suppose.

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