12/4/08

Sadly, after I talked in Tuesday’s entry about how much I love the white silkie, Fred found her in the chicken yard, dead. Something had gotten her, she was half-eaten. I don’t know if it was a hawk or a stray cat or what, but I hope whatever got her killed her quickly and she didn’t suffer.

RIP, little silkie.

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(Snapped by my sister in Maine yesterday.)

So, I had my mammogram yesterday morning. Despite some confusion on my part – I drove right by the building, because I was looking for The Breast Center, without realizing that it’s located in a building called The Women’s Pavilion (you’d think a lightbulb would have gone off for me, but sadly no), so I drove around a little before I realized I’d passed it a couple of times. Luckily, I left a few minutes earlier than I needed to, so I wasn’t late.

This place does a LOT of mammograms apparently, because they were getting women in and out of there pretty quickly. My appointment was at 7:30 and I was out of there by 7:50.

It wasn’t painful for me – possibly because my boobs are like lemons in tube socks right now due to the weight loss (you’re welcome for that visual) and thus not so hard to flatten out. At this point in my life I’m not too terribly self-conscious about having any parts of my body handled by medical professionals, and the mammogram tech (I’m sure there’s a more correct word for her job, but I don’t know what it is) was warm and professional, so I didn’t keel over with embarrassment.

I left there, picked up some breakfast, and headed toward Madison. Fred needs new jeans, so I stopped by Kohl’s and looked for some for him, but couldn’t find them in his size. I browsed around for a little while, but ultimately ended up leaving without buying anything.

There was an empty parking space next to my car, and as I approached my car, I saw a cell phone laying there. I picked it up to see if it worked. It did, and I scrolled through the “contacts” list, but there were no obvious listings that said “Home”, and rather than start calling random people in the cell owner’s phone book and saying “I found this cell phone? In the parking lot of Kohl’s? And you were in their phone book? Any idea?”, I went back into Kohl’s and turned it in at Customer Service.

From there, I went to Publix to buy some pint-size canning jars. We may be making strawberry-habanero and raspberry-habanero jam in the next little while to sell, and we have very few pint-size jars, so I needed to see how much they cost at Publix.

I walked in the front door of Publix and a woman was getting her bags and her baby out of the cart, so I stood back, and then when she turned around, I glanced down at her baby (I’m a sucker for redheads and he was a cutie) and she and I smiled at each other, and I went to grab a cart, thinking at the same time Huh. She looked kind of familiar…

And then she said “Robyn?”

It was Megan and Declan!

This would be the first time I’ve ever been out in public and had someone recognize me. I’m sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, because I so didn’t expect it. Declan flirted with me for a few moments, and then we parted ways.

It was nice to meet you, Megan!

I bought all the pint jars Publix had in stock, went down to Staples for address labels, then headed out to the shelter I volunteer for. I had to pick up cat food and a few other things, and while I was there, I visited with Chemda and Susannah, former fosters of mine (Chemda last year, Susannah last year), who were adopted out and then returned.

They both grew up to be awfully sweet.

I left and stopped at the other Publix in Madison to pick up more canning jars. The teenaged bag boy looked horribly disgusted at the idea of strawberry-habanero and raspberry-habanero jams.

I headed home and decided to try a different route home. We used to be able to take a road straight from Madison to Smallville, but they’ve been working on a section of it FORFUCKINGEVER, so we have to cut up to Closeville, and the traffic drives me a little crazy, so I tried a different way. I managed to get all turned around and finally called Fred, who looked on Google Maps and told me where to go. What the hell did we do before the invention of the cell phone, I ask you? I could have been lost in the wilds of Alabama for hours and hours without the help of Fred and Google!

I got home, and the cats danced around until I opened the back door for them (poor Kara didn’t get to go outside at all on Tuesday, and it was driving her crazy), which made them happy.

I spent the rest of the day puttering around, getting stuff done, getting stuff put away, cleaning the kitchen. You know, the usual.

I decided that the humidifier I ordered from Gaiam.com – the whole-house one I was looking forward to having – is not really all that. It might work well for a house with a more open floor-plan, but in our house where the rooms are separate (BUT EQUAL), I think more (smaller) humidifiers will work better than one big (expensive) humidifier.

And for the record, the Crane pig humidifier I got from Amazon is adorable, very quiet, and does a great job. Also, the fact that the steam shoots out its ears cracks me UP, I don’t care what Fred says about it being dorky.

I have a small humidifier in the dining room, the pig humidifier upstairs, and I think I’m going to get a cow humidifier for the front room and call it good.

(By the way, I got the demineralization cartridge for the pig humidifier to prevent the white dust a couple of you mentioned.)

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The last of my Pennsylvania pictures:

Had Maddy been looking at the camera, this would have been a good Christmas card picture. As it is, it looks like she’s thinking “O Lord, when will the picture-taking end?”

In this light, she looks more like a brown tabby than the silver one she actually is. What’s clear is that she has NO USE for me.

The Big Lots lava cake mix. I thought it was pretty good, but Nance wasn’t crazy ’bout it.

Felina, in a rare non-yappy moment.

The gas-inducing haluski. So, so, so good.

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Four more podcasts from Dorkville.

We are the biggest dorks on earth. I think number 7 is my favorite so far.

Dorkville-Take 4 from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.

Dorkville – Take 5 from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.

Dorkville – Take 6 from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.

Dorkville – Take 7 from Nance on Vimeo.

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Lem gets very excited at snack time!

(See the whole series of pics over at Love & Hisses.)

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Joe Bob apparently got into it with someone and got a scratch across his nose for his troubles. Good ol’ Joe Bob.

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Previously
2007: She’s a force to be reckoned with, that one.
2006: They are NOT OUR CATS. They have owners, damnit, and they’re not us!
2005: No entry.
2004: It is FUCKING cold downstairs in our house.
2003: And then I got the Best Picture EVER Taken.
2002: Fluff? Perhaps. But very entertaining fluff.
2001: “Who’s Robyn?” said the realtor.
2000: “You little bastard!” I yelled, and then ran at him
1999: Through three moves and a name change,
they’ve managed to keep up with me, sending address labels all the way.