An acidic and hostile place: since 1999
quite a bit accomplished. He is SUCH a handyman.
“I’m Senator Phineas J Spotsworth, and I approve this message.”
I don’t know what I love more – the little extended claws, or the little striped pot belly.
I FINALLY got her yawning!
More pictures here.
“Hellew.”
* * *
2 Words meme, seen many places, most recently on my brother’s diary. The idea is to answer each question in two words, but I’m too damn lazy to work that hard, so I’ll use AS MANY WORDS AS I WANT TO. 1. When was the last time you shaved? Tuesday morning. 2. Explain what ended your last relationship. Divorce! I’d say we just grew apart and had very little in common. 3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? I was either feeding Maddy, or in the shower. 4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Looking at my CT scan results. 5. Are you any good at math? Not “good”, but competent in the day-to-day dealing with numbers. 6. Your prom night? Which one? My Junior prom, I hung out with a lot of friends, went to the prom with a guy I had a crush on, and had a decent time. My Senior prom, my date (upon whom I had a crush; different guy than the Junior prom guy) and I went with another couple, and it was a fairly crappy time. 7. Do you have any famous ancestors? I AM the famous ancestor. In generations to come, they’ll be talking about the Crazy Cat Lady and her penchant for boring others online with her daily musings. 8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? I did. 9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I don’t have a song on my myspace profile, but if I did, I’d probably know the words to it. At this point I have no desire to add a song, though. 10. Last thing received in the mail? A bunch of magazines. 11. How many different beverages have you had today? Two – water and hot cocoa. 12. Do you ever leave messages on people’s answering machine? Yes, but no one ever listens to them (DEBBIE), they just call and say “I saw you called. What’s up?” With everyone having caller ID, no one even needs voicemail or answering machines anymore. 13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Great White and Judas Priest. Unless you count Shaun Cassidy, which I don’t really. 14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? Nope; never have. 15. What’s the most painful dental procedure you’ve had? Having my wisdom teeth out 12 years ago. 16. What is out your back door? In Madison, a yard, a couple of trees, and a fence. In Smallville, a ton of land, a bunch of trees, and a pond. 17. Any plans for Friday night? Working on the Smallville house. It’s like date night! 18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? Yeah, I kinda like the windblown look. 19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Yes, and they’re AWESOME. Haven’t had one in many years, though. 20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? I’m sure I have, but I retain no memory of it. 21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Yes. We reuse them for about a week. Why not? You’re CLEAN when you step out of the shower and dry off, after all. 22. Some things you are excited about? Cats, books, the new house. 23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? I don’t really care for JELLO, but if forced to choose, maybe strawberry. 24. Describe your keychain(s)? Nail clippers, #1 Mom, a light-up Maine keychain, and a metal keychain with an image of Miz Poo lasered onto it. 25. Where do you keep your change? In a gallon-size water jug. Well actually, in a smiley-face mug near my desk, and when that fills up, I dump it into the gallon water jug in the kitchen. 26. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people? I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember, I’m sure my voice got all shaky and I sounded like an idiot. 27. What kind of winter coat do you own? A yellow jacket I got from Land’s End a few years ago. I couldn’t wear it before now because (although it was supposedly big enough for me) it didn’t fit. Now it’s too big, but I’m still going to wear the damn thing. It’s yellow! 28. What was the weather like on your graduation day? I don’t for the life of me remember. 29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? I start out the night with it cracked open, but the cats run back and forth and knock it all the way open.
One of my (many) favorite things about Maddy is the dot of gray above her mouth and the dot below. It looks like she’s got a little kewpie-doll mouth.
I love her tangle of whiskers in this shot.
More pictures here.
Such a rough life.
* * *
The little black Momma kitty we first saw a month or so ago was back, this time with a friend. Possibly he was the father of her babies – he was definitely a “he”, anyway!
He got a little too close, and Momma Kitty let him know she needed her space.
I finished mostly with the closet in the spud’s bedroom Friday night – just had the walls to wipe down – and so Saturday when we got to the house I finished completely with the one closet, and then cleaned the cedar closet, which wasn’t too bad, since it was just a couple of shelves and a dirty, messy floor. I scrubbed the floor a few times, and then told Fred I was ready to do whatever he needed me to do.
What he suggested I do – since we’d talked about it the night before – was start priming the trim and doors in the spud’s bedroom. I’ve never painted anything before in my life and so we decided that priming was a good place to start. I think I must be the slowest painter on earth, because it took me the entire day to do the baseboards, the trim around the closets, the trim around the windows, and all three doors. (In my defense, those doors are a bitch – they have inset sections where it’s hard to get the paint into the inset part.) I left the inside of the big closet for Sunday, knocked off a little early, and went in to play with Maddy and document the adventures of Spiderman Vs. Malevolent Madeleine while Fred kept working on the guest bedroom.
This tractor in the front yard of the house next door (the brother of the woman who sold us the house lives there; the tractor is the one Fred almost bought from the owners, but decided not to) get a LOT of attention. At least four times a day we’ll look out the window to see people – always men, what a shock – looking over the tractor. Hasn’t sold yet, though.
Sunday when we got to the house, Fred went into the guest bedroom, and I started priming the inside of the big closet (not the cedar closet – we’re leaving that as a cedar closet, of course). Would you freaking believe it took me ALL DAY to prime the inside of that damn closet, and when we left, I still had a section of wall left to do? I did make the time pass a little faster by talking to my sister on my cell phone, and I said to her “Life would be a whole lot easier for me if I had a cell phone that was Bluetooth compatible and I could wear a headset and talk to you. I could just paint and talk to you all day!” I did manage to balance the cell phone on my shoulder and paint while I talked to her, but yeah – would have been easier with a headset.
All weekend long I had been saying “When I get (whatever) done, I’m going to go out, walk the yard, pick up all the bricks and chunks of concrete, and mow the lawn!” Saturday I said “When I’m done priming this room and the closet!”, not having any idea it was going to take all day just to do the room. Sunday I said “When I’m done priming the closet!”, not having any idea it was going to take all day just to do the closet. Monday I said “When I’m done with this section of the closet!”, and so I finally got to go outside and start walking around the yard, picking up bricks, chunks of concrete, and various other pieces of (not literal) crap.
Luckily I didn’t have to pick up each piece of concrete or brick or whatever and carry it over to the pile I’d started on the driveway, because Fred and I had to go to Tract0r Supply Saturday (or maybe Sunday? It’s all a blur.) and while we were there, we bought a wagon.
We bought it for the size and price, NOT the color. Really!
So I’d fill up the wagon – or fill it up enough that it got to be too heavy to pull easily – and then go dump it out on the driveway. I spent about an hour doing that in the side yard, and finally I had to give up. Because the side yard is located under two very large trees, and what are trees doing right about now? Yeah. Dropping leaves. So although I was getting a lot of stuff picked up, I couldn’t see under the leaves and couldn’t be sure I was getting all the rocks and concrete up.
Fred came out to tell me to come in and check out the light he’d just finished putting up in the guest bedroom, and I roped him into taking me to the Co-Op to buy a rake. While we were there, we bought a shovel as well, because we thought it would come in handy in the future.
Back at the house, he went back inside, and I started raking the side yard. I found a fucking TON of rocks and concrete chunks and tossed them into the bucket I’d found amongst the crap piled by the side door (the one without steps). I also picked up the bigger branches I came across, because I didn’t particularly want to run over them in the riding lawnmower. I don’t know how long it took me to rake the leaves from the side yard into a pile, maybe two hours, but rather than picking the leaves up and bagging them, I took Fred’s suggestion and started running over the leaves with the riding lawnmower.
We have a grass catcher on the back of the riding lawnmower, so it would be easier to run over the piles of leaves, then drive out to the back forty and dump them, right? Right.
I ended up making six or seven trips to the back forty to dump the grasscatcher bags, and then it got to the point where all I was doing was blowing the chopped-up leaves and crap around the yard. But there was more crap in the yard then I wanted to have there, and so what I ended up doing was raking everything into a pile, then using the shovel to dump it all into the grasscatcher bags, drove the lawnmower back to the pile I’d started, dump everything, then back to the side yard for more raking and shoveling.
It was some serious hard fucking labor, folks. You have NO IDEA how good it felt, though, to be shoveling and doing some real physical labor for the first time in I don’t know how long. I think I made about ten more trips back to the pile before Fred came out and told me he was about ready to leave.
The pile, with my glove atop it to give you some idea of the size. I think I made another three or four trips after I snapped this picture.
The side yard. Yeah, I didn’t get much done in five hours of working my ass off, did I? You’d be more impressed if I’d snapped a “before” picture, I assure you. And keep in mind all those bricks and chunks of crap in the picture up higher in the entry were from this one little piece of yard. I don’t have a clue what we’re going to do with this section of yard. It’s located under trees that block the sun – is there some kind of grass that doesn’t need much sun to grow? Any suggestions will be much welcomed, guys!
Happy Robyn on the lawnmower.
But there’s no horn on my lawnmower!
Fred’s tractor has a horn! How come HE gets a horn and I don’t? What if I need to get someone’s attention while I’m on the lawnmower?
The tools of my trade. That rake held up really well for all the stress I put it under, considering it cost less than $6.
By the time Fred came out to tell me it was time to go, I was starting to feel a bit lightheaded from the unaccustomed physical labor and definitely ready to go. Monday night while we were laying in bed I started scheming about how I could sneak out to the house and do some work in the yard on Tuesday while Fred was at work. I didn’t – after that long weekend, we both needed a break from working on the house – but I was seriously tempted!
Tonight I’m going to do some work in the yard, and then probably start priming the baseboards in Fred’s bedroom, and the closet as well. I’ve about convinced him that we should take the doors off and put them on a dropcloth downstairs, where I can prime and paint them. I think it would be one hell of a lot easier to paint them that way, rather than having to do it while they’re standing. It’d also make it a lot easier to prime and paint around the doorway, for sure.
This appears to be the bottom of a cut-off barrel, filled with water. I’m not sure what its purpose was – maybe to water the chickens? In any case, it’s going to go.
Fred says this is another Katydid. It’s a lot less creepy than the one from last week, that’s for sure.
There are several of these huge mushrooms in the yard between the garage and the street. When I first saw them, I had no idea they were mushrooms, they’re so big. I don’t know why, but I thought they were ostrich eggs someone had tossed in the yard. I’m a dork.
The only things turning a lovely shade of red on the property is the TON of poison ivy. Too bad it’s so evil, ’cause it sure is pretty. (And if that’s not poison ivy, someone tell me what it is. I was told it’s poison ivy, and since I couldn’t identify the stuff with a three week course on it, I went with it.)
Saw, found in the yard. Hey! We needed a saw like that!
Swiss Army knife. I brought it home to clean it up and see what kind of shape it’s in, but now I don’t know where the hell it is.
Somewhere a Barbie is going without her camouflage pants, the damn hussy.
Yesterday, Miss Maddy Mack weighed in at 1 pound, 4 ounces. She’s starting to eat hard kitten food when it’s mixed up with the soft stuff – and sometimes on its own – and when we were at the Smallville house over the weekend, I looked over to see her drinking water out of the water bowl!
Clearly she’s a genius.
She’s getting feistier by the day and can pretty much hold her own with the older cats, so I’ve been letting her stay out for longer periods of time. She likes to spend the evenings sleeping on me. She’s such a pretty princess.
Also, she can kick Spiderman’s butt! What more can you hope for from a kitten?
I adore – ADORE – this picture. She was squeaking at me because I kept holding the mouse just out of reach.
More pictures (and there are some good ones!) are hither.
Sugarbutt loves you.
check it out here. Next up: The spud’s room.
After being rescued from the air register, where he was forced to breathe the dust and fumes from a less-than-clean house, Spiderman took a little while to relax and unwind.
“Lady, you can suggest it all you want, but Spidey don’t clean. Spidey’s a CRIMEfighter, not a GRIMEfighter. Cleanin’ ain’t no fun! I’m bored. I’m going to go hunt down some crime, and fight it.”
“The only crime here is how good-lookin’ I am.”
“The only crime here is how fast that gum loses its flavor. But I can’t take on the Trident Corporation! I’m only one small spiderman!”
“The only crime here is how well that Goof Off stuff works!”
“The only crime here is how gorgeous that blue paint is! Uh.. oops. Need a little caulk here, Fred!”
“My spidey senses are tingling. There’s a fearsome beast around here somewhere, and I must find it!”
“It is! IT IS a fearsome beast! I thought the mythical Malevolent Madeleine was a myth, but here I see her, in her lair atop Momma Mountain!”
“This is almost too easy! I’ve got her pinned down!”
“Wait… she’s got my arm in some sort of superbeastly grip. I can’t get away from her! Not that I’d want to, being the superhero stud that I am. But if I did want to, I couldn’t get away from her!”
“She’s pulling me ever closer to the fearsome Jaw of Doom. If I were a mere mortal, I’d be terrified right now!”
“I… OWWW! NOT MY SPIDEY ARM!”
“Malevolent Madeleine, I beg mercy! Not my brain! I NEED MY BRAIN!”
“Brains… leaking… out my ears…”
“She’s got me on the ground! I cannot stand this torture much longer!”
“Relent, fierce beast!”
“NO! NOT MY HARBL!”
Spidey is lain upon a bed of catnip where it is expected he will die slowly and painfully. But while Malevolent Madeleine’s attention is drawn elsewhere…
Spiderman escapes.
“You beat me this time, Malevolent Madeleine, but it will not happen again. I WILL return and make you beg for mercy, you horrid, filthy, stinky, beastly feline!”
* * *
* * * Questions answered, comments responded to: Do you think we’d take better care of ourselves if we didn’t have medical insurance and everything had to be paid out of pocket? That’s a nice thought, but I have a feeling that rather than taking better care of ourselves, we’d be a nation of “Well, I’m going to die SOMEDAY, I might as well have fun until I do!” Or maybe that’s just me!
And the first thing I said when I saw him was “Isn’t that a tree frog?”, but Fred never answered me, so I thought I might be wrong. I’m glad to know I wasn’t – and I kind of hope to see a few sticking to the window when we move into the new house!
How the heck could a frog get in the pipes? Do you have town water in Smallville?
We have county water, but I’m thinking the frog might have come up through the septic system rather than through the water pipes.
And the flames/ lightning bolt are due to Fred’s shaky hand taking the picture. Apparently there were lights back there, and his hand shook a little when he hit the button to take the picture, thus making the lights blur. OR I’m a secret superhero. One or the other.
Am I the only one who doesn’t know why it’s called a harbl?
I didn’t really know, which is why I didn’t respond, then someone said:
For the girl above who didn’t know what the hairbl was it’s like his hairy balls…. right???? Or am I just some perv?
That’s kind of what I was thinking, but then Ginny was smart enough to check out Urban Dictionary, and found this:
Harbl – It is used mainly to refer to the male reproductive organ, although it can sometimes refer to the female reproductive organ. It is usually used in the clichĂŠ 4chan sentence structure of “I’m in ur ______, ______in ur _______” I’m on ur radiator, heatin’ my harbl. I’m in ur washmashchine soakin’ my harbl. (Thanks, Ginny!)
Last night she climbed up into Fred’s lap and fell asleep like this.
More pictures hither.
Mister Boogers hates you…
…but in honor of the holiday weekend (he’s a Christopher Columbus fan), he only hates you a little.
A “before” shot of one side of the closet.
This top shelf is the last one I did before we left. Took me about 45 minutes. This is before…
They appear to have glued old magazine or newspaper articles to random places on the shelves. I didn’t see a date anywhere, but they’re old enough that the phone numbers are listed 5-5555 instead of 555-5555, or even (256) 555-5555.
Clean shelf.
When I first went into the closet, I thought a quick wipe of the shelves with a wet rag would clean them up nicely, but like I mentioned, there was a ground-in dirt issue. I got out the Mr. Clean Magic Erasers (which I invariably refer to as “magic sponges”, because please. They’re sponges!) and that helped get up the grime, but it was taking forever to get one little section done, and those sponges don’t hold up all that well. I was going through them pretty quickly. I got Fred’s keys and went to Wal-Mart for a second bucket and some of those Scotch Brite scouring pads. By the time I got back from Wal-Mart, it was 7, so we took a break and had snacktime (another apple for me – I love it when apples are in season) on the front porch.
Oh, and I should point out, I didn’t spend all the time until snack time scrubbing shelves – I took a break to tape around the trim in the spud’s bedroom so that when Fred’s ready to start painting in there he won’t have to wait.
Anyway, after snack time we went back inside and I broke out the scouring pads. They worked a lot faster than the magic erasers had, and so for the next hour and twenty minutes or so, I scrubbed the hell out of the shelves. By the time we left, the top shelves were clean around the entire closet, but I still have most of the middle shelves to do, and all of the bottom shelves.
Guess I know what I’ll be doing on Friday, huh?
“So, when they put up the December 1953 calendar, do you suppose they were unaware that December 1953 was going to end, and then the calendar was going to be useless?”
“Not very forward-thinking of them, was it?”
The rags used on that closet: ONE MEELLION.
We found these old cans of floor cleaner in the guest bedroom closet. I don’t know how old they are – there’s no date on them – but there’s still liquid in both cans. Not that I’m going to try to use them. God knows what the stuff inside has turned into!
There was apparently a ladybug orgy at some point in the past. They didn’t care that their houses were afire and their children alone, I guess.
Abandoned dirt dawber nest in the guest bedroom chimney access.
Spiderman might protect us from the evil bugs, but does he clean? NO HE DOES NOT.
Warning: cat cannot hold her licker.
If I had mad Photoshopping skillz, I’d totally Photoshop that sproingy thing out of the picture so it looks like Maddy has troll hair.
More pictures are here.
Laura says, This is our cat, Norman. He’s a big tomcat that loves to play. Six years ago, Paul picked him up from a guy he works with, his name is Norman, so Paul decided to name him such. He’s the best cat ever. I love how it looks like Norman is yelling “GOT IT!”
Teri says, This is my kitty yawning pic. This is Claire and she is Trouble with a capital T (and that rhymes with C and that stands for Claire!)(yes, I sing to my cats all the time!) Anyway, she thinks she rules the house…ok, she DOES rule the house and our other two cats. You… sing to your cats? We NEVER do that. Ever. Really! Heh.
Miss Pink Ponsonby says, Here is the Back of the Head yawn by Mackie!
And also, I know you would like to take up quilting but let me assure you, the amount of eager ‘help’ you would recieve would make it darn near impossible to ever get a quilt made. Witness THIS: (notice what he is crushing beneath his rhythmical feet), and this (my blog archive entry in which I get a LOT of assistance in making an apron) I hadn’t even thought about that. Considering how “helpful” they all are when I’m trying to cross-stitch (sometimes it’s more than they can bear, and suddenly I’ve got a cat in my lap with a length of thread in his mouth because I’ve apparently been teasing them with the back and forth of the thread), I’m sure it would take me six years to get a lap quilt finished!
Maren says, I thought I would send you a yawning picture of my sonâs kitten Freddie â heâs 5 months old & is a real cutie. I must have chased him around for weeks trying to get a decent yawning picture of him. Heâs feeling pretty puny today as he spent part of the morning at the vetâs with vomiting & diarrhea. Turns out he has roundworm! UGH! Poor Freddie. Worms are the worst!
We’ve seen Amy‘s Zoe before, but Zoe was nice enough to pose for another yawny pic! Such a thoughtful girl, that Zoe.
Brenda says, My Yenta is a talker, been talking since the day we met her and she and I have running conversations all the time. When we first brought her home from the shelter, and realized just what a talker she is, I told me hunny we needed to come up with a name for someone who talks all the time. He replied ‘oh, a yenta’ which is Yiddish for a female gossip. Well, that was just perfect. She’s my little Yenta. The smaller picture shows her in mid-speech, not yawning. The second pic shows her in her favorite spot on top of my old monitor. She thoroughly disapproves of my new flat panel monitor, especially after leaping onto it and discovering she had no purchase. Was scary and hilarious at the same time!! I LOVE that monitor picture – I could totally see Sugarbutt doing something like that!
Jupe says, This is my mom’s cat, Pasha. Do you think he has enough toys? He was also found at about 3-4 weeks old and bottle fed before my mom adopted him. He is now almost 20 pounds. One year he absconded with a Christmas ham almost as big as he was (thankfully still wrapped), and had it halfway up the stairs before he was stopped. There’s no such thing as enough toys for a cat! I can totally see Tommy stealing a ham and dragging it up the stairs!
* * *
People, I just don’t get it. I don’t get how the previous owners of our new house lived in it like that. Because seriously, the paint job makes my teeth hurt. There’s a spot in the yellow bathroom where they apparently needed to do some touch-up painting, and what color paint did they use to touch up the yellow bathroom? Why, orange. OBVIOUSLY.
It was my hypothesis that the previous owners and their five (!) kids moved into the house and thought they’d be there for years, and that they could take their time to get the house looking the way they wanted. Then her mother went into a nursing home and they wanted to be closer to her, so they had to give the house a lick and a promise and hoped to sell it to people who could recognize the lovely underlying bones of the house.
Like us.
If I could point to one single room where the paint job was anything better than slapdash, I might be able to stand behind my hypothesis. However, I cannot say “The master bedroom (or the living room or the computer room or ANY room) is well-painted and the trim is neatly painted. Obviously they finished off this room and then realized they were going to have to move.”, because there ARE no rooms like that. And it isn’t like the rooms were carefully painted and it’s just the result of wear and tear that they look like they do now. On the ceiling in at least one of the rooms, the ceiling is painted pretty well, but they painted up TO the light fixture, and then there’s this whole area around the light fixture that is unpainted.
Then there’s the dirt. See, I really like the previous owners, and they seem like nice people, but the fact that I spent an hour and a half cleaning a CLOSET last night (scrubbing the floor twice to get it somewhat clean, the walls, the ceiling, the shelves) makes me wonder what was going on. He seems to work long hours and she’s a stay-at-home mom with five kids (the oldest three being college aged) and I’m sure her life is a busy one, so did she think the kids were keeping their rooms and closets clean, but they were just shoving everything in the closet and when it was time to move it was just like “Oh good lord, just pack everything up and we’ll let the new owners worry about cleaning the closet!”?
I don’t know. But I must say, it’s more gratifying to clean a filthy closet than a mostly-clean one, because you can see a huge difference when you’re done.
I was originally going to help Fred put a second coat of primer on the walls in the guest bedroom, but Fred ended up determining that one coat was enough, so after we went and registered my car, we went to Lowe’s and decided on a paint color, and when we got to the house Fred carried everything upstairs and I went upstairs to look and get my painting mojo going, but then I opened the closet and LORD.
“Oh, NOTHING’S happening in this closet ’til I clean!” I declared. And like I said, I spent the next hour and a half cleaning the closet, taking down nails and screws, and scrubbing the floor, twice.
(And I still feel like it could use a third scrubbing.)
Once the closet was done, I taped around the baseboards and doorways so Fred could do around the trim without painting it blue (a lovely smokey blue is what we decided on for the guest bedroom, by the way), and then we took a break and sat on the front porch in the dark and had a snack (I had an apple, and it was good) and we watched the cars go by.
So then he went upstairs and painted around the trim and I took the blinds and went into the other room and cleaned each and every slat of the blinds, and then I scrubbed the baseboards around what will be the spud’s bedroom, which took us past eight o’clock, so we headed for home.
Tonight, I’m cleaning the closets in what will be the spud’s bedroom (there are two!), which are even worse than the closet last night (and tonight I’m taking the camera with me to show you!), and then I have to tape around the baseboards and doorways so Fred can begin with the primering priming of the spud’s bedroom.
I feel like we’re making really good progress. Originally Fred was going to primer the entire house before he started painting, but now he’s thinking he’ll completely finish out one room at a time, instead. I can’t wait to show you pictures of the guest bedroom, once it’s finished!
Bitey McBiterson strikes again.
More pictures here.
Caren says, Since you are crossing over (to the dog side) you have to see my dog Abby. She is yawning in the picture but I swear it looks like she is screaming âI canât take this crazy place any longerâ. She does! Or like she’s screaming “Make the lambs stop screaming…” Heh!
Bev says, This is my kitten, Stanley. My hubby found him standing in the middle of a highway. He’s ADORABLE!! This is pretty much my favorite picture of him. EXCELLENT picture! Don’t you love it when all the stars align and you happen to have your camera handy and ready to go and get a picture like this?
Chris says, This is my 13 year old cat named Katie. Katie is a tiny little thing but she’s got no less moxie than the biggest cat in the world. The poor thing was rescued by my husband when she was about 4 weeks old and weighed less than a pound, and we brought her in to a home with two other dogs. She held her own and is still doesn’t take any shit off of them now. She does love to snuggle with them and we swear she laughs at their antics, but don’t tell her I told you that. Anyway, I think she’s actually meowing here, but we like to think she’s laughing at another thing those damn dogs did. It looks like a yawn right?
Andria says, You said you liked pictures of cats with their tongues out, so I thought I’d send you my favorite picture of my cat Chile, from when she was a kitten. Chile looks a LOT like Tommy did when he was a wee one, before he grew into the behemoth he is today. I love it when cats are at the rumpled stage before they grow out of their kitten-ness.
t0rie says, Ever since your request for yawning kitty pics I’ve been trying to get a picture of our cat, Inca, yawning. Sneaky thing yawns all the time, but not in front of the camera. Finally caught one, but it’s not the greatest shot. (Hey – it’s a camera phone, whaddya expect!) But here you go. And had to attach a couple other Cute Kitty Pics of Inca, who is our rescue Burmilla from Mallorca. (Long story, but involved a long weekend in Mallorca then flying back with extra hand luggage of her at my feet on the plane!) What gorgeous green eyes! She reminds me a little of Fred’s old cat Poot, for some reason. Maybe the eyes!
Thank you Caren, Bev, Chris, Andria, and t0rie, for sharing your pictures!
Not as innocent as he looks.
* * *
here.
Maddy does her rabid bat impression.
Sleeping. The only time she’s still.
More pictures over here.
Ariel says, I couldn’t resist contributing to your yawny pet pics section and the chance to give my kitty her 15 minutes of fame. đ This is Neko, who is about 10 years old and has been my companion since she was maybe 6 months old. She’s the sweetest cat on the planet, but these pics crack me up because they make her look so decidedly evil. Awww, she doesn’t look evil. She looks like she’s giggling! Okay, maybe in an evil way…
Melissa says, Kitty pictures, my favorite! I’ve included a few of my little boy, Mr. Puss (or Stinky as we so lovingly refer to him) … he’s still a baby and not too cooperative with getting the yawn pictures caught on file, but I’m working on it! I love the way Mr. Puss looks like he’s smiling in the top picture! What gorgeous eyes he has.
Hey mom, is it hockey season yet??!
Psycho kitty with curved fangs
She thinks you’re REALLY funny!
I mean REALLLLLLY funny!
She doesn’t like stupid people… Isis (the top two pictures) and Murron (the bottom three) belong to Lisa. I LOVE that second picture of Murron – she looks like a little vampire kitty.
Alice belongs to Turtlemama, who says, This is just one of our three cats. This is Alice, whom we call Pretty Miss Alice or “Ow! Don’t fucking bite me!” Sometimes it’s both, “Hey Pretty Miss Alice! OW! DON’T FUCKING BITE ME!”. She likes to bite for no good reason…she’s always done it, she’s her own cat and no one can make her change. yeah.
Anyway, it’s not yawning, but they are good ‘Kitty sticky tonguey outie’ pictures! Is it just me, or in that first picture does Alice look like she’s thinking “You want a piece of me? ‘Cause I will MESS YOU UP!”?
Lisa says, Here’s my yawning Smudgie, tending bar! Looks like Smudgie’s been partaking of the bar a little, too!
Thanks for sharing your cat pics, Ariel, Melissa, Lisa, Turtlemama, and Lisa!
logo, this one created by the wonderful Carol! Thanks, Carol! And speaking of logos, I could use a Thanksgiving/ Turkey themed logo for next month, if anyone’s feeling creative.
Random pile of bricks in the yard. What were they going to use them for? I don’t know. Maybe to finish off the driveway? Maybe to edge a flower garden? Make a walking path? It’s a mystery!
Frying pan in the front flower bed.
“Maaaa! What should I do with the roll of rusty wire fence and the cinder block?”
“Put it by the magnolia tree of course!”
“I put a random brick by the wood pile, Ma.”
“Perfect, son!”
Set of wheels by the wood pile. Maybe they were on the wood pile wagon and just fell off?
Not so random – they put these bricks here to step on when it rained very hard and the yard got a little swampy. We’re going to replace them with stepping stones at some point.
This cubbyhole, I think, would be perfect for a linen closet. I’d love to put a wall up here and build a linen closet from the hallway (on the other side of that right-side wall), but I’m sure I’m the only one who feels that way, and also it’s probably beyond our beginner’s skillz at this point.
Once I was done with the bathroom (which will be the spud’s/ guest bathroom, by the way), Fred and I took a break and had lunch. I went out and admired the back forty, which he’d spent a couple of hours mowing. It had been bushhogged last week, but the idea at this point is to keep it mowed every couple of weeks so we won’t need to have it bushhogged again.
When lunch was over, I headed back inside to feed Maddy and once she was done eating and I’d played with her for a little while, I put her back in the guest bedroom and went downstairs to start on the downstairs bathroom.
And there went another two hours of my day. The master bathroom was, if possible, even dirtier than the upstairs bathroom, and I ended up having to scrub the shower down three times (yes, even the plastic walls, which we’ll be replacing with tile), and the outside of the tub was pretty bad, too.
But like the upstairs bathroom, you can now eat off any surface in the bathroom without fear.
I took a break for a while when I was done with the master bathroom, went upstairs to see what Fred was doing (puttying holes in the guest bedroom) and told him I was ready to try driving the tractor. I went out toward the back forty so he could disconnect the mower from the tractor, and waited for him to bring the tractor to me.
And then I drove the tractor! It was a little confusing at first, but I got the hang of it pretty quickly, and drove all over the back forty while Fred watched and snapped some pictures.
I turned the tractor back over to Fred – who was visibly itching to get back behind the driver’s seat – and went back inside to clean the last bathroom.
The third bathroom – it’s just a half bath – off the computer room took me maybe half an hour to clean, since there’s not much to it.
I thought about starting to clean the kitchen, but it was starting to get late, I was running out of cleaning rags (of the two 24-packs of rags I’d bought at Lowe’s last week, I’d used all but three or four on the bathrooms), and I just didn’t wanna clean anymore that day. So I went out and watched Fred clear up some of the brush around one of the trees in the back yard, snapped a few pictures, and went out on the front porch to sit in a rocker and read.
After I got bored with reading and rocking, I went upstairs and hung out with Maddy until Fred was ready to go. I packed her up in her carrier, we grabbed a bunch of stuff we needed to take home with us (trash, dirty cleaning rags that needed to be washed), and loaded up the car and headed for home.
We unloaded the car at home, I threw the rags into the washer, put Maddy in her room, and then we headed out to eat dinner. We decided to try a “country cooking” restaurant not far from home, and while the food was very very good, there was only one waitress working, so we had to wait forever for our food. Not the waitress’s fault (we left a good tip; I ALWAYS leave a good tip. The one thing about working as a waitress for my very first job is that I will, for the rest of my life, leave good tips.), but I don’t know that we’re going to go back there real soon.
Saturday evening we watched TV and were planning to stay up until 11 so we could make sure the spud got home okay, but I whined and bitched about how tired I was, so we went to bed and talked for a while, then said goodnight, and Fred went to wait for the spud and I went to sleep. I fell asleep pretty quickly, too – apparently the spud rolled in about ten minutes before 11 (which is almost unheard of – she tends to push it up to the last minute) and I didn’t even hear the garage door go up.
Sunday morning I’d intended to sleep in a little, but I woke up a little after 7 and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and did all my morning stuff (clean the litter box, do laundry, open the door to Maddy’s room and greet her, encourage her to follow me downstairs), then took a shower and was actually ready to go a little after 8.
We left the house at about 9, Maddy in tow, and made a few stops. We stopped at Lowe’s for work gloves for me, Fred’s new favorite store for a couple of bird feeders (me), a hat (Fred), and some bird seed (the birds, obviously. DUH.). We got to the house, unloaded, and Fred went out and worked on getting the post-hole digger attached to the tractor, while I got Maddy settled and started cleaning the kitchen.
!!!!!!
May I just say “OY”? That kitchen, I looked at it, and I swear to god, it looked perfectly clean, but once I started cleaning, it became apparent that it was going to be a whole-day thing. And it was. I spent all day cleaning out cupboards (things I found while cleaning out the cupboards: a “Sno-Motion” snow-cone machine, Magic Chef dehydrator, pizza (?) pans, a framed gardenia picture, a corn cutter & creamer, about a thousand straight pins, and a key to a GM vehicle), wiping down the front of the cupboards, crawling around on my hands and knees and cleaning the bottom cupboards (and wiping those down as well), pulling out the stove and cleaning behind it, and the side of the stove (nas-TAY), and at the very end, I Swiffered the floor four times before getting down on my hands and knees with a soapy bucket of hot water, a thousand cleaning rags, and scrubbed the entire floor twice.
(Fred helpfully said “You didn’t really need to clean the floor, since we’re having them redone!” HE JUST DOESN’T GET IT. HMPH.)
People, if you love me, you will go pull out your stove and clean behind it, and clean the side of the stove. Because that shit apparently gets quite nasty (who knew?!). Just call it your good deed for the day.
Also, at one point I had to stop cleaning and go outside to help Fred dig a hole for the mailbox post. It’s a two-person job I guess, at least if you need to dig a hole straight down on a hilly area. Fred actually held the auger while I ran it (don’t ask me how I ran it; I just followed the directions he yelled at me). I noted that Fred likes to stand FAR too close to the tractor while I’m behind the wheel, making me want to yell “The tractor is a wild beast, mate! I canna control it! STAND BACK!” (I imagine yelling that in a Scottish accent, for some reason)
When I accidentally (or should I say “accidentally”) run Fred over with the tractor next weekend because he’s standing too close, you can consider that above paragraph foreshadowing.
The second pass with the Swiffer. Just as dirty as the first.
Side of the stove. Ugh. I’m pretty sure it could have been much, much worse, though.
Clean kitchen.
More clean kitchen.
When the kitchen was done, I told Fred (who was upstairs painting the guest bedroom with primer) not to walk across the kitchen. He was ready to take a break, so we met on the front porch and rocked for a little while. He said he was going to try to get the guest bedroom walls completely painted with primer before we left, so I told him I was going to get the bird feeders filled and hung up and then read for a little while.
(I’m such a slacker compared to him!)
I realized, as I wandered around the back yard looking for a place to hang the bird feeders, that I needed (a) a stepladder, because there were no low branches to hang the bird feeders from and (b) chains to hang the bird feeders on, because all the branches were very thick. I ended up hanging one bird feeder from the post that holds the laundry lines and the other on a stump of a branch sticking out of the side of the cedar tree. I sat and watched for a few minutes, but no birds showed any interest, so I went off to the front porch to watch traffic and read.
The back forty, after Fred cut it.
The black Momma cat we first saw about a month ago was back Friday night. I gave her food and water and she ate some, but didn’t appear to be starving. I’m afraid she might be pregnant again, because she’s not nearly as skinny as she was. Then again, maybe her kittens are weaned, and she’s just gained back some of the weight she’s lost. Anyway – does she look like a bat in this picture, or what?
The mailbox (the previous owners didn’t have a mailbox; they used a PO Box instead).
Magnolia tree.
Daddy longlegs on the door Saturday.
Daddy longlegs on the back of the house Sunday (probably not the same one, unless he got into a fight at some point between the two pictures and lost a few legs).
I didn’t know what this was, so asked Fred. He thinks it’s a Katydid. It’s kind of scary looking, if you ask me.
Home sweet home.
Front yard.
Probably wishes he had a less slackery wife.
I don’t know if I like these curtains or not. I just can’t decide!
Does leaving out cat food and water for the neighborhood cats (and possums, most likely) make me a crazy cat lady?
The cement slab where the dog run was. We were talking about putting a gazebo on it, and then we were talking about putting a hot tub on it, but I don’t know that we’d use a hot tub all that much, so we’re talking about putting a deck over it. We haven’t decided, though.
Cedar tree avec bird feeder. Too bad this tree’s coming down; I’m starting to like it more and more.
Yes, the laundry lines are going to need to be restrung.
Dirt Dauber? Wasp? I don’t know. Alls I know is that they SCARE me with their buzzing and their flying around.
Side doors leading to the computer room. I think we’re just going to put some simple steps there, unless I can talk Fred into a small deck.
Today, muscles all over my body are hurting. My quads and hamstrings from balancing on one foot on the ladder in the kitchen for so long (I needed the ladder to get to the top shelves), my back from crawling around on the floor scrubbing, but what hurts most of all is my right forearm. My right arm is my scrubbin’ arm, and god knows I did a LOT of scrubbin’ this weekend!
We’re not going out to the house tonight, because Fred needs to mow the lawn here, and then we’re going to Lowe’s to buy a refrigerator for the new house. The one we have here is too big and won’t fit in the space (we’re going to keep it and put it in the laundry room when we move, though), and we really need to have someplace to put our food while we’re working on the house for the next several months, so it’s off to Lowe’s we go.
“What’s brown and sticky? Give up? A STICK! Bahahahahaha! Heeheehee! Hahahaha! Oh, boy, that joke ALWAYS gets me! Hee! Hee! Heh. Hmm.”
She’s gotten very talkative lately.
Princess Maddy.
More pictures hither.
This is Gus, who belongs to Fran. Fran says, This is Gus, a Maine Coon Cat who is exiled in California. Sometimes he is too tired to yawn and meow separately so he combines it in a “meow-yawn” He has a very exhausting life. A me-yawn! Heh. Miz Poo does that, too, and it never fails to crack us up.
Sarabeth says, I’ve tried to catch my cat yawning. I’ve followed her around, watched her closely, camera nearby for a few days now and I’ve come to one conclusion. Cordie doesn’t yawn. She doesn’t yawn because SHE NEVER SLEEPS. She may close her eyes from time to time, but she’s really just plotting on how to shred and destroy something a little later on.
These pictures should give you an idea. She may look innocent in the first one, but I had just caught her sinking her claws into that roll of paper towels that she had STOLEN FROM THE KITCHEN. The second picture shows her true nature. Why do cats love destroying paper towels? WHY? Probably because it makes such a mess, the little brats.
Jennifer says, Chloe is the yawning kitty, Izzy is the one staring at her like she’s sprouted two heads. Chloe’s 4 years old, and Izzy’s just a little over a year now. They get along, when Izzy isn’t trying to copy everything Chloe does. I love how Chloe’s white patch looks almost like it’s heart-shaped.
Alicia says, Here’s a couple pictures of Max! He doesn’t have quite the same piercing stare as Mister Boogers, but I think they share the same sassy attitude. Heh – I think you mean Max doesn’t look as EVIL as Mister Boogers! In that second picture, the look Max is giving you as he lays in the sink? I’ve seen that exact same expression on Tommy’s face a million times. I can’t decide whether it means “I love you” or “Come over here and let me rip your throat out while I purr madly.” I keep my distance, just in case.
Megan says, Here is my cat Jimmy, yawning and showing us his broken fang. We took Jimmy in a year ago on September 22nd. He was a stray that we became fond of and thought we’d give a home. I don’t believe I’ve mentioned how much I adore orange kitties, have I? I think the broken fang gives him a rakish air!
Thank you to Fran, Sarabeth, Jennifer, Alicia, and Megan for sharing your pictures!