MonkeyPants

Fleas.

So this Friday, E notices a couple of fleas on Baxter. Dutifully, we vacuum everything and put the stuff on the back of his neck. Baxter’s, not E’s. Because that would be stupid.

Today I was trying to finish Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (which I promise not to talk about until people catch up and finish it) and I looked down at an itch on my arm. Flea! Fark me, it happened four times and I drownded those little buggers and relished their deaths.

I went and bought some spray stuff for the furniture from the pet store, where I was not so much helped as fluttered around by a completely unhelpful salesgirl.

Thinking to fight the flea fight on two fronts, I then went into my local hippie store for some essential oils. I’d heard fleas hate the smell of cedar. After a lengthy discussion with the naturopath saleswoman and another flea-infested customer, I walked away with a custom blend of oils that repels fleas. I put a few drops in some hot water and washed the floors, and stuck some in a diffuser. It might repel fleas (so far two have committed suicide in Baxter’s water dish), but it certainly repels E, whose eyes were stinging and his throat burning.

Time will tell, but I still feel itchy.

Release Party.

The incredulous cry echoes through the darkened trees: I have it in my hands! I have the answer in my hands!

That pretty much sums up the feeling in VanDusen Gardens moments after each person grabs The Book and exits through the back of the tent to make way for more eager readers, vouchers and hands outstretched.

The operation was really slick. Apparently there were about seven thousand people crammed into a roped off field, milling and admiring costumes. There was a band to entertain as we lined up, pressed against barricades, waiting, waiting for midnight. It could have been a mess, but I doff my cap to Kidsbooks. They did a really good job of organizing.

12:47 PM

Finished HP7.

Wow. What a book.