The maid took the week off.

This is fine.

We have a replacement.

Unfortunately, the replacement looks a lot like me.

The dog is way confused.

Apparently Maria does not drip mop water on his darling chocolate-y head.

And he doesn’t feel the need to follow Maria everywhere, loyally showing ‘presence.’

Or whatever it is he’s showing me with all the endless, chivalrous following.

He is WIPED OUT from my cleaning.

And mop water-ish.

So.

About history.

I hereby repent of the history whining. Sorry, y’all.

It’s not all history that gets me.

My grandfather’s unique place in WW2 history kinda takes my breath away.

Once, when watching a history thing on tv I told Mike to press pause and said, “Look. That right there – that is supposed to be my grandfather.”

How cool is that?!

I’d tell you the details, but probably get them wrong. History is like that for me, even the really interesting history.

So to infuse genuine interest, I have tried to personalize the text reading.

I have pretended that these people are relatives of mine. Of yours. Of the cat’s. Anything.

I can’t say it has helped.

(Because I KNOW my cat is not related to a 10th century Turk, and so that strategy was not my best one, but i am TRYING, yaknow?)

I have tried dramatically reading aloud, as if it is the most fascinating material ever.

But I noticed I wasn’t listening to myself.

So that didn’t help.

It would be so much better if it weren’t all so OLD.

The history class I wanted to take was more recent stuff. But it was not available.

Anyway.

My father, if he has seen even ONE of my whiny history posts, probably made this weird grunt/snort/disgust/cough sound he usually makes if the Cowboys are losing.

My father likes history.

He once gave me a really long lecture on the importance of Texas History.

I was in the 7th grade.

I was not doing well in a Texas History class.

That passionate, heartfelt lecture on the importance of Texas History was horrifyingly detailed and lengthy and I can still remember much more of it than I should considering how long ago that was.

I gave him a Texas History book for Christmas that he wanted.

Anyway.

No more whining.

I do not want another lecture from my father.

Or his imagined weird snort/cough/grunt/disgust sound that only he can make. (LaLa, can’t you just HEAR it?)

I’ll pass or fail with grace, and with the proper respect for ancient historical peoples who probably are not related to any of us or our cats but who should be revered and studied anyway I suppose so whatever I’ll do it, no more whining.

Just watch.

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