One of the feral cats from the back yard— most likely Jarhead, since she was in the house longest— took a leak on the couch in the den. I didn't discover it until the cats were back outside and I sat down and my pants got wet. The pee was on the spot where the couch cushions meet, so it was not only on top of them but had dribbled down between them as well. The room reeks, and I'm all out of Smells BeGone.
I'm going to have to get more aggressive about not letting the cats barge into the house when I open the back door to take their food out, and when I open it to go back inside after watering the yard. I've pretty much broken Timmy (the garage cat) of the habit of barging in, but the backyard cats are still insistent, and as they outnumber me they are more difficult to control.
A sudden unexpected shift in the weather has brought the possibility of thunderstorms tomorrow and Thursday. Rain would be nice, but lightning could be disastrous. The fires just got contained, and I don't want lightning starting more. If it dies, September could end up reeking of smoke as badly as August did. Of course the smell of smoke might help cover up the smell of the cat pee, or at least distract me from it.
As I haven't had dinner yet, neither have I had my bottle of beer tonight. Maybe that's why I'm out of sorts. Maybe I'll just drink it by itself. It might put me to sleep and then I can eat in the morning. No more waffles for me, though.