I've been freaking out recently about the recession: how bad will it be? Does this have the potential to become as bad as the Great Depression? And I keep telling myself, you know, even if it is every bit as bad as some people are saying it's going to be, we have friends who'd be more than willing to pool all our resources together and find a way through this. Worst comes to worst, Curt stays in the military, and a few of our friends come along for the ride, and we grow a garden to stretch food. It would suck, and it would be less than ideal, but I don't think we'd be living in tents.
And then, in the middle of all this deep thinking, Sammy walked in from the porch (I left the door open because it's nice outside) and startled me right back to reality with her moaning, shrieking meowing. As soon as I'd got up to see if she was all right, she threw up grass. Everywhere. It's no wonder her stomach hurt, as much green as that cat puked up! So then Knut decided she was going to belly up to the trough and then hurl up a hairball. That cat had stuffed herself like a damn turkey, and here it is all over the rug with a big old hairball winking out of the middle of it.
Good times are being had by all.