Hauling/Buying

Well, the trip back to Austin was pretty eventful. Our flight was canceled, so we had to stay in Boston overnight--but it could have been much worse.

Anyway. We plan to load up our (that is, Andrew's) car and head out on Sunday the 12th. We'll arrive on the 14th, I think.

My Grandma P. has told me on no uncertain terms that she's paying for movers to drag our stuff across the country, as a birthday gift to me. I think it'd be less stressful and more economical to just, you know, buy new things once we get up there. The apartment is small and we won't need much: a futon, a drafting table, a desk, a bookshelf, a chair for my little indoor balcony.

(Guys, our apartment has an indoor balcony. Have I told you already? Just in case I haven't: there's an indoor balcony. I will make it mine and set it up as a little reading area. Chair, end table, lamp, bookshelf. Definitely going to be my favorite part of the apartment. Eeee.)

So, well, yes. Either we can spend a good four to five thousand hauling our stuff across the country--and risk all the problems associated with using movers, plus the expense of flying me to and from Texas to oversee the movers while Andrew's in summer school, and all the complications of me trying to get my hands on a car while I'm doing the overseeing--or spend one or two thousand at the most on some cheap inexpensive new things. Frankly, the latter sounds better to me.

. . . . . . Not to mention how much I absolutely adore furniture shopping.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I seriously love furniture shopping.

Adorable Bundles of Grump

Augustine is twisted into a weirdly shaped lump on the couch beside me. Sophie's sleeping in bed with Andrew--probably quite pleased to have her half of the bed back now that I'm up. They're absolutely adorable when they're asleep, especially when they have a little tiny snore going on. They are soft, cuddly, and immediately start purring when you pick them up.

And I have a feeling they're going to be absolute demons on the thirty-two-plus hour car ride to Rhode Island.

In a half hour or so of panic, I turned to the internet and looked up How To Survive A Road Trip With Two Cats Without Them Killing Each Other Or You Them. The most interesting solution I've found so far: rabbit hutch. Weird, I know, but bear with me. If I were to, say, smoosh the two cats into a single carrier, perhaps they would comfort each other--dare I even hope curl up cutely together--and thus not cry for the entire drive. They tend to bunch up together when they're afraid (as seen when Andrew had friends over and they hid together under Augustine's towel-covered end table), so perhaps sharing a carrier would be soothing to them? And rabbit hutches tend to be large enough to allow for a small litter box as well as a sleeping area.

I've found two in particular that I like so far, a large one and a larger one. Of course, what we buy (if anything) depends on which vehicle they'll be in, and what will fit within it.

If we do go the rabbit hutch route, we'll certainly keep both cats' individual carriers in the car with us; if they do have problems getting along, they can take turns having the hutch (and its litter box) to themselves.

Needless to say, I'm hoping to get my hands on some tranquilizers the next time we stop by the vet.