series for Marvel Comics and co-wrote 
All Gone
The work on the garage began yesterday. They dug out the back pond, removed sections of fence and uprooted two pine trees, two rhododendron and a weeping something or other that broke my heart. Once this is all done, we’re going to need to do some serious gardening to get our homey feeling back. I do like the notion of a clean slate though. And I can’t say I’m sad to see the trumpet vine go.
Claude came home from the vet’s office yesterday. He did pretty well during the evening and managed to let me sleep a full night last night, but he got into a box of manga at some point and chewed up three volumes. Jerk. Then, this morning while I was having my breakfast, he ripped into a box of tissue and gnawed on one of my knitting needles. I saved the needle and I suppose the Kleenex is no big loss. Still. I’ll be glad when he’s done with the chewing business.
K-9 Club came and picked him and Applejack up about half an hour ago. Claude freaked out a little — he didn’t want to get in the van — but Holly was patient and when we stopped tying to force him, her dog managed to lure him in under his own power. I’m anxious to hear how he does at the park.
I’ve been in a horrible pickle for a week (or more), work-wise, trying to figure out the next scene in the 30 Days of Night project I’m doing. I actually think I had a bit of a breakthrough last night and hope to make some real progress today. I’ve also enlisted Drew to discuss it with me. It’s amazing with a difference that makes. We haven’t really started yet and I already feel I’m in his debt. (It was tough to ask because it meant I needed him first to read two previous scripts, but he was gracious about it. And I was desperate. That helped.)
EDITED TO ADD: Good news/ bad news! Good news: Claude did well at the park! And since he’s had his exercise, he’s completely chill right now, just hanging out sleeping in the sunshine in the foyer. Bad news: while he was frolicking in the park, I discovered a pile of dog poop in the diningroom. For a moment, I considered pretending I didn’t see it so that Fraction would have to clean it up when he got home. Then I realized that would mean living with dogshit in my diningroom and I came to my senses. But for a moment…? I confess I was tempted.
[...] ALSO: as Kelly Sue mentioned, I’m “helping out” (read: “gleefully swimming in comic book innards”) with her 30 Days of Night run. Neat. [...]
Huzzah. that looks like a weeping larch. So sad, are you able to move it still? I confess to being pathologically fascinated with home renovations especially now that we sold our big old barn of a victorian last year and have been living somebody else’s life in our apartment in the sky but now you’ve got me thinking about this enormous mulberry that we muscled over 12 inches in order to clear the corner of the deck we built. But maybe it’s just the talk of dog schmutz because the squirrels used to eat the mulberries and then leave mulberry poop everywhere.
hooray for claude. also, we feel that not calling our dog either ‘gozer’ or ‘fischberger’ was a missed opportunity.
k-
Alas, weeping larch (thank you!) was another casualty of the garage build. But now that I know what it was, I’ll be able to replace it in the spring!
You = hero.
Put a tupperware bowl over it to cover Claude’s poo until Matt gets home. It works, because someone I know very well would do this to dog poo and insects until I got home from working in the bay area several years ago.
I’d come home after a week or two and there would be these unside down paper cups and bowls and such things all over the floor. I swear it looked like a Christo installation at times.
By the time I had the chance to do clean it up, the secured treasure would be completely desicated and rather easy to dispose of.
Claude must go. But this you know.