OK, yeah. If I had thought of it, I would have specified a private swimming pool of my very own, and not merely living in an apartment complex that happens to have a pool, but it's still pretty sweet.

We moved here in Sept, more or less the end of Pool Season. There's also an indoor pool, but I never really got around to using it. Maybe this winter I will. I'm totally loving the pool scene. I went four times last week.

Thursday, I had the genius idea of swimming while doing laundry. Start the laundry. Walk outside. Swim. In 40 minutes, put the laundry in the dryer, and then swim some more.

I was actually looking forward to doing laundry again today, but it's all overcast and windy right now. Maybe it will be warmer by the time Rijid wakes up, and then he can come swimming too.

I don't think he's quite as enamored with the pool as I am, because KC and I were totally girling out the last time the three of us went together. (Hey, did you ever mermaid swim? Ooh, I LOVED that! Now let's have a tea party!!) I can do forward somersaults now. I never quite mastered them as a child, because I always had to hold my nose. I'm trying to work on backwards ones now.
***
We are now in day three of Project Two Cats. I think so far it's going about as well as can be expected. They have VERY different personalities though. Moussa has always lived with other cats. He's all, "Yeah, there's another cat out there. That's cool. Why can't I hang out with him?"

George spent the entire first night crouched by the bedroom door in Attack Mode. He hissed every time the door was opened, and hissed at me every time I came out of the bedroom smelling like The Intruder. At least he's not doing that anymore. I can come and go from the bedroom without him spazzing out.

If they happen to catch sight of each other, though, it's all bad.

George: Growl! Hiss! I am Alpha Cat!
Moussa: Yeah, ok. Your point is?
George: Hiss! I say to you, Grrr!
Moussa: WhatEVER, dude.
George: HISS!

Neither one of them makes any movement towards the other. George hisses, and Moussa just sits there looking bored. I think that confuses George even more. If Moussa would just hiss back, George could then justifiably kick his ass. But Moussa don't play dat.

I want this to be OVER already. I never realized what a wonderful convenience it was to have an open bedroom door. Where are my shoes? Oh, I bet they're in MoussaLand. (Open door. Listen to cats exchange greetings. Close door. Find shoes. Open door. Stop Moussa from leaving bedroom on my way out. Close door.) Now all I need is my hairbrush. Back to MoussaVille. (Open door. Close door.) Maybe I should just get ready for work in here today. There must be a ponytail holder in here somewhere. No? Well, back out to GeorgeLand.

The bedroom door sticks. I never even noticed. I'm noticing the hell out of it now, though.

I keep trying to talk to them about it.

"Moussa, let's find out if you like superballs. Hee. I guess you do. You know who else really digs superballs? Yeah, he's kind of being a jerk right now. I'm sorry. Just give him a little more time."

"Hey Georgie, guess where I just found Moussa. He was sitting in my t-shirt drawer, just like you always do. You like kitty treats, he likes kitty treats. You like windows, he likes windows. Really, you guys have so much in common. If you'd give him a chance, I'm sure you could be friends..."

Someday soon, I won't have to keep them in sepArate (Blush. Thanks, Dad) living quarters. I tried switching them about an hour ago, but George totally freaked. Maybe if he hadn't seem Moussa on the way in, it would have worked better. He used to love the bedroom.

He's lying in front of the door again now. Nothing hostile, of course. He's just lying there. But he will not be moved. Earlier today, he was snoozing on the couch, not even in sight of the bedroom door, as if there was nothing wrong in the world. Apparently, his brief visit to MoussaLand really messed him up, and now he has to play Border Patrol again for a while.

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