It began as a simple drywall project to protect one cat from his own stupidity. Ozzy will eat anything – rocks, plastic, you name it. Of course, if I’d realized I could have just shoved a 2×4 into the inside of the door jam to keep the cat out of the basement, I wouldn’t be where I am today; broke for a good cause.

We’re now 5 working days into what has turned into a complete finishing job. We have permits for building, electrical and plumbing and lots of free, skilled family labor that are being put to good use. We’re building soffits, framing doors and putting in a full bath. There are plans for a projection screen, library, bar, and a workshop in the back later on. Weee!

Photos will be posted over here as work progresses.

A friend of mine recently discovered she has chipmunks living in her walls and she now lives in fear of waking up with her cat curled up on the bed next to one. Being a problem-solver by nature, I’ve decided to put together this handy little guide so that, if she ever actually finds herself face to furry face with one, she’ll be able to communicate with it.

Squeak. – Hello.

Chitter chitter tchuck. – I won’t hurt you.

Squirr up? – How are you?
(I’m not going to bother translating a response to this because chipmunks will go on at great length about their difficulties in gathering the season’s nuts if given half a chance. By the time they’ve wound down, they’ve forgotten the question. Just listen and nod politely. The important thing here is that you asked.)

Squeak squeakity squeakum. – Please don’t eat my furniture.
(Let your teeth show just a little to show you mean business, but try not to break out into a full smile or it will be interpreted as a challenge instead. It might take a little practice to get this one right.)

Squeak squeakity squeak squeak. – Not to be confused with the statement above, this is a very rude insult concerning a chipmunk’s racing stripe.

Tchuck chitter cheet squeak squeak tchuck chitter chitter chit chee. – You have a beautiful racing stripe; may it bring you many nuts.
(They never tire of hearing this.)

Chirrup squee eep. – The bathroom is outside.

Squeaker tchock chee. – Yo, pass the soy chips.

“By next month, your responsibilities will be alleviated.”

So read the fortune on my soda bottle at lunch on Saturday. Either I’ll be fired because of my blog or – since I’m now officially flaring for the first time since New Year’s – dead.

I’m going back to bed.