you still cross stitching?
Yes and no – I have a ton of kits to do, and I keep intending to cross-stitch while I watch TV in the evenings, but I haven’t actually done any cross-stitching in a couple of months. I tend to cross-stitch every night for months and months, and then not a single stitch for a few months before picking it up again.
* * *
Why 6 months before you sell your house? Will it be that long before you move?
Because the spud wants to graduate from her current high school and there’s nothing in place so that we could live in Smallville and she could drive to Madison every morning (Fred has talked to the superintendent – I don’t know if it’s because we’re moving to another county, or what). So we decided to buy the new house, work on it for the next six months, then put this house up for sale. In February we’ll probably do something where we move a bunch of stuff to the new house, then Fred (and the cats) sleep there nights (well, the cats will be there full-time) while the spud and I sleep here. That way the spud can make her five-minute drive to school and work until she graduates, and we can recarpet this house, since the cats won’t be around to barf all over the new carpets the minute my back is turned.
* * *
Hi Robyn – I have a question for you. I’ve read Bitchypoo a long time and I’ve been searching for something you wrote a while back. Here’s the thing — I started walking for exercise and I get a tense feeling in my shoulder blades and neck and shoulders. And I thought you had mentioned that you had that happen to you as well but I’ve looked back in your archives and can’t find anything about it. Please help me solve this mystery – was it you this happened to? Oh and don’t worry – I’m not looking for any miracle cure by Dr. Robyn – I know to see a doctor if I’m really worried – however I thought I remember you talking about some solutions or causes or something and if so I wanted to go back and read it.
I was having some back pain in my thoracic spine region – mostly directly under my left shoulder blade. I switched from a regular bra to an Enell, which basically pulls your boobs back against your chest so there’s no jiggling and wiggling of the boobs, and that helped. I would also stretch while I was walking – stretching my left arm across the front of my body helped – but really, what’s helped the most is that I’ve been seeing physical therapists for about a month, and they gave me exercises, new ways to sit, and stretches, and that along with the time I took off from most all physical activity after I had my gallbladder out seems to have fixed the back pain issues.
* * *
Didn’t I read that you had plantar fasciitis? How has it been since your weight loss?
I did! And I haven’t seen hide nor hair of it in months and months. In fact, I’d completely forgotten all about it. Another happy side effect of the weight loss!
* * *
I know you’ve looked into (or will) the possible complications of removing skin and various lifts, but have you seen The Shrinking Woman on Discovery Health? The episode about a Tennessee woman aired on Monday night, I think. Granted, she started out much larger than you ever were (over 600 lbs), but the complications and recovery of her multiple surgeries were scary. She also pushed herself, and had surgeries before allowing herself to recover fully, I think. Anyway, just be careful. (I know you will.)
I haven’t seen that yet, but every so often I go through the Discovery Health programs and set up to record everything that looks interesting; I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for that!
I will, of course, be careful. I think the fact that I’m pretty healthy, overall (don’t tell my liver!) will be a big plus when I’m ready to go for plastic surgery.
* * *
Re: cats. And now it’s official. I have 6 cats in a 1300 sq. ft. home (and 2 outside cats who are slightly feral, both from an irresponsible neighbor). Have I lost my mind? We took in 3 kittens, found a home for one, and probably scared off any potential adopters of the remaining two. Sorry, I don’t apologize for screening people. Good thing I have a Dyson. So I am crazy cat lady, but not a hoarder (yet). Someone told me that you were a hoarder only if you couldn’t afford them all. Not there yet, I hope.
6 cats in a 1300 square foot home is LESS THAN one cat per 200 square feet. I think, personally, you don’t actually have ENOUGH cats.
Wait. I think I don’t have enough cats, either. I think the rule of thumb (which I just completely made up) is that you need one cat per 100 square feet of housing space (you should include closets in this calculation). I think this means you need at least another six cats – and I need another (doing the math…) 19!
Seriously, though, I really don’t think you become a hoarder until you can’t move through your house because there are so many cats, you can’t possibly take care of them all (I hate it when the Animal Cops discover a hoarder who has cats who are living in their own filth. Drives me NUTS. If you are unable to care for your cats properly, you need to find a new home for them.), you can’t afford to take care of them all, and you refuse to consider finding homes where people can take proper care of them.
And good for you for screening the hell out of potential adopters!
* * *
I’ve read you journal for years and have watched the spud grow from a kid into a beautiful young adult. She is gorgeous. I love both pictures but the one with her glasses on and that warm bubbly smile really is my favorite. Plus she’s lost some weight hasn’t she?
Yeah, I really love that picture of her. Her best friend went with her when she was having her picture done, and in that picture where she has the great, natural smile, her best friend was making her laugh.
I don’t know if she’s so much lost weight as gotten taller, actually. But I agree – she looks good!
* * *
You should get your results soon since the test was done in a hospital (at least that was my experience). I hope you only get good news. When do you see your GI again?
Actually, the GI told me it’d probably take about two weeks, because they send the tests off to California (yeah, probably California, INDIA) to be read. I don’t have another appointment with him, but he’s going to call when he gets the test results and let me know what they found out.
* * *
Maddy is adorable. So tiny! How hard will it be to let this one go, Robyn?
and
how in the hell are you going to give that baby up after you have bottle fed her? Yikes! She’s too cute and I’m a sucker. But then again, so are you!
I’m absolutely going to have to suck it up and let her go, because if I don’t? There is NO WAY Fred will ever let me foster again. I’m sure it’ll be hard – it was hard as hell with the other fosters – but knowing that she’s going to go to a good home helps a lot.
* * *
Aww, poor kitty! How did she ever get seperated from her momma and siblings?
I don’t know what her story is yet – I need to ask the shelter manager!
* * *
I’ve been meaning to ask you since you are moving out to the farm, do you guys think you will ever try a dog again? I remember when you guys adopted one, but then it tried to bite Fred or something. Can’t remember exactly. If you do, I would suggest a basset hound. They are the BEST dogs and wouldn’t dream of biting a person. They could even hunt rabbits for you.
The dog we adopted several years ago didn’t work out because she was pretty aggressive toward the spud and I and just flat-out wouldn’t listen to anyone but Fred. The final straw came the day Fred and the spud were out in the back yard, and the dog pretty much went out of her way to run over the spud, knocking her back and putting a gash on her forehead.
Honestly, we’ve talked about having a dog when we move into the new house – it just seems like a farm needs a dog, y’know? – but when it comes down to it, we really aren’t dog people. Nothing personal to dog people – I like pictures of dogs, I like your dog stories, but as far as wanting one of my own? Not so much.
* * *
do you knit?
I don’t, and I’ve thought about taking it up, but I did knit for a bit when I was a teenager, and it kind of made me twitchy, so just thinking of taking it up makes me twitchy. In fact, thinking of all the damage the fucking cats would do when they discovered my yarn stash (AND YOU KNOW THEY WOULD) makes me twitchy. Besides, I’d take up quilting before I’d take up knitting, because I can always use more quilts!
Maybe I’ll take up knitting in my old age when I’ve learned patience.
* * *
There’s quite a discrepancy in that hospital bill, who paid the rest of it? You: $150, insurance $3K+, leaves a little over $19K left. Factoring in that I’m more than a half a moron when it comes to this insurance business not having had it most of my life.
The hospital writes off that $19,000. Basically they say to the insurance company “This is what we’re charging” and the insurance company says “Too bad. We’re only paying this much.” and the hospital says “Um. Okay! We’ll just go harass some uninsured people and make them pay the total amount they owe us. For you, since you’re a big insurance company and we want the business of the people you insure, we’ll just pretend we didn’t need that entire amount anyway. Mmm’kay?”
* * *
Just in case you don’t know, (and what makes it all the more poignant) is that Tiffanie DeBartolo based Jacob Grace on Jeff Buckley.
I did NOT know that (or if I found out about it after I read the book, I’ve since forgotten and it’s all new to me!) and I’m surprised I didn’t. I LOVE Jeff Buckley’s music.
* * *
I can’t believe it’s Friday, and I haven’t written about what we did last Saturday, yet, and put up the pictures. I guess this has been a kind of busy week for me, what with the hating on the floor guy and sitting around waiting for him to never show up and bringing home a bitty baby kitten.
Anyway, we left the house early last Saturday because we wanted to visit some tractor stores and get prices and flyers and maybe sit on a few tractors, so Fred could dither back and forth about which one he wanted to buy and fret about how expensive they are and all that. We ended up visiting three different tractor stores.
We visited the Massey-Ferguson tractor store first, and I snapped a few pictures.
Old blue tractor. I think it’s purty.
Whenever Fred sees a big-ass tractor like this, he always says “Now, THAT is what we need!” I ought to rent one and park it in the driveway at the new house and tell him I bought it for him, just to freak him out.
There were no animals at the Massey-Ferguson store. I count that as a strike against Massey-Ferguson, personally.
Next, we went to the Kubota store.
“Lady, please. Don’t make me rip out your throat. I have a store to protect and a fuzzy blue bed to keep warm.”
One cute little (but not terribly friendly) dachsund in the Kubota store – that’s a plus in the Kubota column, as far as I’m concerned.
Next, we went to the Agco store. We went out to look at the tractors and I said “Get on the tractor and let me take your picture!” He wouldn’t, so I gave him the camera and told him to take my picture.
He interpreted “Take my picture” to mean “Wait until I look as dorky as humanly possible, then snap my picture, please. Oh, and if I’m in the middle of a blink, so much the better!”
“Lady, please. Don’t make me rip out your throat. I have a store to protect.”
“Shit. Did she believe me? I don’t remember how to rip throats out. Pull, then bite? No, that doesn’t make sense. Bite, then pull, then what? Am I supposed to eat the throat I rip out? Do I spit it out and then pee on it? Crap. If I don’t look at her, she’ll think I’m mysterious and scary. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.”
“Hello. You got food for me?”
A Tommy lookalike greeted us as we left the Agco store.
That’s three animals at the Agco store. Three checks in the Agco column, as far as I’m concerned. But I get no say in the purchase of the tractor, so Fred will probably decide on the no-animals-having Massey-Ferguson. Bastard.
From the last tractor store, we had to drive back into Madison. The owner had planned to leave us a key to the new house in our Super Sekrit Hiding Spot, but she hadn’t had a chance, so she sent the key to work with her husband, who works in Madison. So we went to his place of business to pick up the key, and I sat in the car and watched Fred chat it up with him. I’d thought to bring a book with me, but naturally it was way in the back of the car, and I kept thinking Fred was going to come out annnnnny minute now, so I didn’t go back and get the book.
Fred finally came out, and we headed to the house. There was, honestly, not anything we needed to do at the house. We just wanted to walk through it and hang out in it for a little while and look over the land. Fred wanted to check out the attic, so we swung by home to pick up a flashlight.
At the house, we walked through again (I asked Fred to toss the dead mouse in the laundry room out into the yard, because it was bugging me), and then we went out to the pond to see Mister Duck, and Fred tossed some poultry feed out to him.
On a side note, Fred actually had the idea to go to a Trade Days this weekend and get Mister Duck a girlfriend. When he called the owner to find out if they planned to leave Mister Duck at the house, he heard the sad news that something had killed Mister Duck on Saturday.
Rest in peace, Mister Duck.
So after the duck had been fed Fred went into the house to poke around in the attic, and I walked around the back yard and took a few pictures.
One of the numerous pecan trees in the back yard. I think it’s gorgeous – I love big old trees.
Red maple. It’s looking a little rough due to our dry summer, but hopefully it’ll recover nicely this fall and winter.
I was sitting on the back steps when I heard Fred call me from upstairs.
“What?” I said.
“Come up here,” he said in that special you’ll-want-to-see-this tone. I went inside and up the stairs. He was standing outside the bathroom. When he saw me, he gestured for me to walk into the bathroom.
“What?” I said, walking into the bathroom. He pointed at the toilet, and I walked over, half expecting to see a dead mouse floating around.
It wasn’t a mouse, and it wasn’t dead.
The Southern North American Toilet Frog.
“Is it real?” I said, peering down at it. The picture doesn’t do justice to just how bright green the frog was.
“It is.”
“And he was just sitting there when you walked into the bathroom?” I asked.
“I walked into the bathroom and lifted up the toilet seat, and he was sitting there.”
“The toilet seat was DOWN?”
“Yes.”
“How the hell did it get in there?”
“I imagine it swam up the pipes.”
I regarded the frog. It regarded me back.
“I sure am glad this isn’t MY toilet,” I said. “And I hope the spud doesn’t come screaming bare-assed down the stairs one day with a bright green frog stuck to her ass.”
“I second that,” Fred said.
“Are you going to take it out back?”
“Yeah, I just wanted you to see it.” Fred leaned down to pick up the frog. He had it in his hand and was starting to stand up when, with an almost audible ::SPROINNNNNNG:: the frog leapt out of his hand, hit the wall, and stuck there.
“I don’t think he wants to go,” I said.
“Well, we can’t leave him in here. He’ll starve!”
“Can’t he swim back down the pipes?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Frogs aren’t known for their overwhelming brilliance.”
Fred leaned down and reached for the frog. He shifted position and eyed Fred with bright-eye malevolence.
“He’s going to end up stuck to your face,” I predicted.
Fred looked around the bathroom, then picked up a toilet brush and poked at the frog with it. The frog blinked, considered, and decided that a toilet brush would be a fine place to sit.
Fred carried the Toilet Frog down to the pond and left him near the water. Hopefully whatever got the duck didn’t get the frog as well.
Or maybe the FROG got the duck! I’m sure if the frog ::SPROINNNNNG::-ed onto the duck’s face, the duck would have dropped dead from a heart attack.
* * *
Maddy’s doing well – she actually stopped sneezing, so maybe it was a matter of just being in a new environment that was making her sneeze, I don’t know. I was a little worried because I didn’t get a poo from her yesterday, but then she gave one up this afternoon, so I’m happy.
I never thought a little poo would make me so happy.
Maddy isn’t to the “playful” stage yet, but she does like to play a game. When she’s done eating and peeing, she wants me to put her down. Then she wants to tunnel somewhere. If I don’t use a baby blanket to make her a tunnel, she’ll butt her little head against my leg until I lift it or she’s able to tunnel underneath. Most of the time I make a tunnel for her out of a baby blanket, and she goes through it, then is SO proud of herself she has to flop over for a belly rub.
It’s excruciatingly cute.
All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither.
Also, for those of you who requested Maddy movies, there are two. In the first, Maddy sniffs around and then meows her little meow. In the second, she’s just crawling around. Neither movie is all that great – I need to take the movie camera upstairs – but you get an idea of the cuteness that is Maddy.
YouTube link.
YouTube link.
* * *
Reader yawny cat pics!
This is Zoey. She belongs to reader Hulda in Indiana. I love the attitude she’s got going on.
Hulda’s Zoey again. I swear, when I first glanced at the picture, between the black cat, the red collar and the cat chewing on something it shouldn’t, I thought it was Tommy! What a cutie pie.
Leo the mighty lion roars! Leo belongs to Hulda’s mother, who lives in Iceland.
Leo again. Now THAT is a hard-sleeping cat.
Leo’s sister, Krista. I love how sweet and soft she looks.
Thanks for sharing, Hulda! The rest of you – keep ’em coming!
* * *
Previously2005: Maybe I just like to bitch, y’think?
2004: Waiting for Ivan.
2003: No more Benifer. How sad.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Speaking of N Sync – that Lance Bass is a cutie, but I get the distinct feeling that although the lights are on, no one’s home. ]]>
Old blue tractor. I think it’s purty.
Whenever Fred sees a big-ass tractor like this, he always says “Now, THAT is what we need!” I ought to rent one and park it in the driveway at the new house and tell him I bought it for him, just to freak him out.
“Lady, please. Don’t make me rip out your throat. I have a store to protect and a fuzzy blue bed to keep warm.”
He interpreted “Take my picture” to mean “Wait until I look as dorky as humanly possible, then snap my picture, please. Oh, and if I’m in the middle of a blink, so much the better!”
“Lady, please. Don’t make me rip out your throat. I have a store to protect.”
“Shit. Did she believe me? I don’t remember how to rip throats out. Pull, then bite? No, that doesn’t make sense. Bite, then pull, then what? Am I supposed to eat the throat I rip out? Do I spit it out and then pee on it? Crap. If I don’t look at her, she’ll think I’m mysterious and scary. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.”
“Hello. You got food for me?”
A Tommy lookalike greeted us as we left the Agco store.
One of the numerous pecan trees in the back yard. I think it’s gorgeous – I love big old trees.
Red maple. It’s looking a little rough due to our dry summer, but hopefully it’ll recover nicely this fall and winter.
The Southern North American Toilet Frog.
All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither.
Also, for those of you who requested Maddy movies, there are two. In the first, Maddy sniffs around and then meows her little meow. In the second, she’s just crawling around. Neither movie is all that great – I need to take the movie camera upstairs – but you get an idea of the cuteness that is Maddy.
YouTube link.
YouTube link.
This is Zoey. She belongs to reader Hulda in Indiana. I love the attitude she’s got going on.
Hulda’s Zoey again. I swear, when I first glanced at the picture, between the black cat, the red collar and the cat chewing on something it shouldn’t, I thought it was Tommy! What a cutie pie.
Leo the mighty lion roars! Leo belongs to Hulda’s mother, who lives in Iceland.
Leo again. Now THAT is a hard-sleeping cat.
Leo’s sister, Krista. I love how sweet and soft she looks.
Thanks for sharing, Hulda! The rest of you – keep ’em coming!