November 2006 – Page 2

11/14/06

Thank you to everyone who’s donated so far – I have more than $400 in my PayPal account; I can’t wait to write that check to the shelter! The rest of you – get to donating! Whatcha waiting for?

* * * While I’m thanking people, I’d like to thank Vix again, who helped me with a super-secret project, and rocked at it. * * * There’s this guy Fred knows named Tim Thompson. Everything Tim does turns immediately and irrevocably to shit. When we have bad days where everything goes wrong, we refer to it as a “Tim Thompson day.” Sunday was a Tim Thompson day for me. First, I had to paint. And I don’t like to paint. Painting makes me make this face:

I’m not a good painter, I hate painting, it bores the shit out of me. Fred is a fast painter, he’s a good painter, and he’s allllllllways trying to get me to paint. Before we bought this house I had never painted anything, ever, and since we’ve bought the house I’ve painted more than I ever want to paint again in my life. So Sunday morning I began painting the trim in the stairway. To me, the paint job I did looked like crap, but Fred told me it looked perfectly fine (a lie, I’m sure -he probably went back over and fixed it). Then Fred decided I was in the way, sitting on the stairs and painting, so I went upstairs and worked on the trim in the hallway. There are pictures of the finished hallway and stairs here, by the way. After lunch I was released from my painting duties to go outside, where I really fucked up. I’d spent Friday afternoon raking the side yard and I thought I could just run over the leaves with the riding lawnmower, pick them up in the grasscatcher and then dump them in the mulch pile we’ve started. Running over the leaves didn’t do much but crunch them up and toss them all over the yard, so I raked them back into a pile, and on Sunday I used a shovel to shovel the leaves into the grasscatcher and then hauled them to the mulch pile. That went okay, and then I decided to run over the pile of leaves behind the shed. First, I ran over some huge metal thing with the riding lawnmower. Didn’t hurt the mower, but scared the shit out of me. I pulled it – whatever the hell it was, some big metal ring – out of the ground and tossed it on the trash pile. Then I started running over the pile of leaves, and about went deaf from the sound of twigs and gumballs hitting the metal underneath of the mower. At one point a gumball hit the side of the shed and bounced up, hitting me in the cheek. Could have been worse, I suppose. It could have hit me in the eye. After a few trips back and forth across the pile of leaves, I hopped off the mower to look in the grasscatchers to see if they were full. They weren’t full – in fact, there was nothing in either of them. I pulled the tube thingy off the side and found that it was crammed full with crunched up leaves and grass, and who the hell knows what. I called Fred on his cell phone and asked him to come out and help me. He did – bless his heart; he had to climb down off his tall-ass ladder and come outside to help his fuckup of a wife – and then I shoveled the rest of the pile into the grasscatchers and hauled the whole mess out to the mulch pile. After that, I decided it was time to work on clearing the ditch. There’s a ditch on the boundary between our property and the church’s property next door. It had gotten very overgrown and full of trash and weeds, and I wanted to get it cleared from the street to the point where there’s a fence post even with the side of the shed. I had cleared a good part of the ditch with the riding lawnmower and the chainsaw, but my extension cord would only reach so far and Fred needed his extension cord on Friday, so I couldn’t use it to work on the weeds and shrubs near the road.

This is the ditch. This picture doesn’t properly illustrate just how much brush and crap there is to clear away from the ten feet of the ditch leading up to the culvert. On Sunday Fred didn’t need his extension cord so I could add his to mine and work on the part of the ditch nearing the road. I dragged the extension cords, my chainsaw, and my hedge trimmer out to the ditch. The hedge trimmer did a pretty good job of chopping down the weeds that had grown, and I got about two feet of the ditch cleared when suddenly the hedge trimmer stopped working and I didn’t know why. I unplugged and re-plugged the trimmer. Nothing. So I decided, okay. Maybe I ran the hedge trimmer for too long at one stretch and it was overheated and needed a rest. So I’ll use the chainsaw instead, right? I got the chainsaw and plugged it in and… nada. Nothing. Wouldn’t work at all. I stood in one place and swore up a storm (quietly, though – I didn’t want the people in the church parking lot to hear me, it being Sunday and they being Of God and all that shit), trying to figure out what was going on. I went into the shed and checked to see if the extension cord in there was plugged in. It was. I followed the cord to the end to see if the light on the other end was on, and it was. I went back to the chainsaw to try it again, and it didn’t work. And then I glanced down at the second extension cord and saw. I had cut through the goddamn motherfucking extension cord. I CUT THROUGH THE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING EXTENSION CORD.

“You,” I told myself. “Are a goddamn motherfucking idiot.” I grabbed the now-useless extension cord and carried it around to the trash pile. “What a fucking idiot,” I said to the extension cord. “I’m sorry you’re DEAD and USELESS because I’m a goddamn idiot.” It seemed to have no opinion on the subject. I put the hedge trimmer in the shed and decided to use the chainsaw to cut down some of the bushes around the fencepost. I had cut down three fairly big bushes when I accidentally hit the fencepost with the chainsaw and the chain came off. “Oh, GODDAMN!” I said, louder than I’d intended. Luckily, there were no Of God people in the church parking lot, so no one was around to hear my blasphemy. And then I muttered a litany of very bad words under my breath as I put the chainsaw on the porch and stomped inside the house.

“I give up!” I yelled at Fred. “I fucking GIVE UP!” Fred put down his paint brush and followed me into the kitchen. “What happened?” he asked. “I’m such a GODDAMN FUCKUP! I quit! The house wins! You WIN, you stupid house! I give up! Let’s sell this fucking house and buy a soulless McMansion on three feet of lawn in the heart of goddamn Yuppieville!” “What happened?” Fred said again. “I CUT THROUGH THE GODDAMN EXTENSION CORD AND THEN I MADE THE CHAIN COME OFF THE CHAINSAW!” There was a long silence. Fred stared contemplatively at the ceiling. His lips twitched. When he spoke, his voice sounded very strained. “You cut through… the extension…cord,” he said. “YES.” I sent hate rays directly into his brain and was surprised that he didn’t immediately fall over dead. “You cut through… the extension cord,” he repeated. “YES.” “HOW did you… cut through the extension cord?” he asked, covering his mouth as if I couldn’t see his shit-eating grin. “I DON’T KNOW,” I snarled. And he lost it, falling over onto the counter and laughing loudly, the fucker. “Do you want me to fix the chain on your chainsaw?” he offered. “NO,” I bellowed. “I want to SELL this goddamn house and buy a MCMANSION in the HEART of YUPPIEVILLE!” “Oh Bessie,” Fred said comfortingly. “You’re just having a Tim Thompson day.” I looked at the clock to see if I could possibly push for going home early, but it was only 2:00 and I knew Fred would never go for it. “I suppose I’ll go mow the lawn,” I said grudgingly. I went out and started the lawnmower, and began a circle around the side lawn. When I’d made two trips around I stopped to see if the grasscatchers were full. There was nothing in the grasscatchers. “OH COME ON!” I yelled. “What the FUCK?” I pulled the tube thingy off at the bottom and found that it was crammed full of grass and leaves. I pulled all the crap blocking up the tube out and then tried to put the tube back in place. I had no luck. “Oh, I GIVE UP!” I yelled, and stomped back into the house. Fred was standing on the stairs, painting. “Where do you want me to paint?” I asked in a low kill me now voice. After some prodding, I told him that the grasscatcher wasn’t working. “Was it ever working?” he asked. “Yes, I mowed around the tree near the mulch pile and it worked fine, so I emptied them and went and I -” here the link between my brain and my tongue went down for a moment and I mixed “did” and “do” – “I do’d two trips around the yard and there was nothing in the grasscatchers!” “You do’d two trips, huh?” Fred said, and laughed. “I’m going to throw something at you,” I threatened. In the end, he dragged me outside, pulled the crap out of the tube, fixed it back where it was supposed to go, and took two trips around the yard on the lawnmower. “Now I do’d two trips around the yard!” he said, grinning. ~~So I killed him and buried his body in the back forty.~~ “It stopped spitting grass into the grasscatcher about halfway through your first trip,” I told him. He cleared it out again, raised the blade a couple of inches, and this time when he made a trip around the yard, everything worked just fine. And that was the end of my Tim Thompson day. I mowed the front and side yards, which took a little more than an hour, and when I went back inside Fred was mostly done with the stairs. I did a little cleaning up, waited for Fred to take his pictures, put some canned food on a plate for Maxi and Newt (what? We can’t let them STARVE!), and then we came home. I love this house and I’m excited about it still, but I could do with a few more victories and a few less fuckups on my part. On the up side, it’s entirely possible that we could be done with the inside of the house by the end of the year, or shortly thereafter! * * * The other things I did over the weekend:

Began switching out switches. Naturally I didn’t get an “after” picture of the process.

Put the doorknob mechanism back on the door with NO HELP WHATSOEVER. Am clearly genius.

Painted crown molding. And then Fred and the paint guy he had come out to the house MOCKED MY PAINT JOB. Fuckers.

Took a trip around the back forty several times. The leaves, they are a-changin’.

Spotted a praying mantis – the first praying mantis I’ve ever seen as an adult. We’d see them in Guam all the time, but I hadn’t seen any since. This one looked at me like she wanted to leap at my face and suck my brains out through my eyeballs.

Spotted a strange bug. Fred called it a “stinkbug.”

Bought a candle and put it on the mantle. When I went to blow it out as we were leaving, I saw a wasp floating around in the melted wax. I found it both creepy and mesmerizing. Check out the full-sized version.

Newt lurrrrrves his Momma.

LURVES her.

We’re going to have to start calling her “Missus Boogers” if she keeps giving us these looks.

No dignity at ALL.

And lastly, swept up dead wasps. It was a slow weekend for wasps. All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: Senator Stanley J. Boogerton. 2004: No entry. 2003: So I’m not reporting that. At all. Never happened! 2002: Riley’s response? “Nuh uh!” 2001: Dr. Phil looked at me judgmentally, and I began to babble. 2000: And I don’t even like cherry Poptarts! 1999: Fred has agreed to let me adopt the kitten! ]]>

11/13/06

You can send the money to them via PayPal!

And if you donate, let me know so I can keep track of how much money we’re raising. I’d LOVE it if we could come close to the $2,200 we raised in Mia’s memory last year. Thanks in advance – I know how incredible y’all are, and I know that you sent a ton of money last summer when Mia died. It was an influx of funds the shelter sorely needed at that time, and it would definitely come in handy now. And by the way, Fezzik, Princess Buttercup, and Westley were adopted over the weekend, PB and Westley to the same person.

(And feel free to steal this image for linkage.) * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: I’m not holding much love for Tubby at the moment, believe you me. 2002: And also, I have short and stubby legs. 2001: I think that our dog thinks she’s a Mexican jumping bean. 2000: In fact, my new motto is going to be “Bitch, whine, moan. Lather, rinse, repeat.” 1999: I would name her Molly.]]>

11/10/06

can teach an old Fred new tricks.

* * * Comments: Where did you get that cat hair mug??!! I have to HAVE one! I got mine on sale at Parisian, but you can find them online at Our Name is Mud. It’s become my favorite mug, ever, and I’m thinking of rounding out my mug collection with a couple of the other mugs the same company offers, ’cause they crack me UP. * * * How do you feel about the neighbors who took the 2 adults cats in, letting them roam loose? Our cats never go outside. I remember our vet saying the average life span of a male cat outdoors was only 2 years. I’m not thrilled about it, but apparently Maxi and Newt were so miserable inside that they felt they didn’t have a choice. I know that during the several days we had them inside our house, they howled until they were hoarse, and I’m pretty sure they tried to dig their way out (via the windowsills). * * * Man, that picture is scary — reminds me of the sick sister in the movie Pet Semetary. Does your spine stick out all crazy, too? My spine does NOT stick out all crazy. Give me a few years, and maybe I’ll develop myself a Dowager’s Hump and it’ll be a different story. * * * Robyn! Good lord woman, what are you doing up and writing a journal entry at THIS time of morning?! I mean, I’m glad to hear from you and all, but… good lord. Is this some sort of new leaf you’re overturning, or somethin’? I was up early yesterday because I had an early appointment on the other side of Huntsville. Believe you me – I didn’t WANT to be up that early, and I’m not usually up that early if I can possibly avoid it! * * *

My favorite new t-shirt. * * *

And I always wonder why there’s so much cat hair on the stairs… * * * Previously 2005: Can’t a girl be a dumbass without the whole world going into an uproar about it? 2004: For once, he had no good comeback. 2003: “Oh yeah. I hate this feeling. I should have just had a Diet Coke.” 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: Can you tell this irks me? ]]>

11/9/06

do know that before we move into the Smallville house, we’re going to have a pest control person come out and figure out where they’re coming from and how to stop them. I could probably handle a wasp sting okay (with perhaps copious amounts of whining), but I’d hate it if one of the cats was stung by one of them and got sick. Fucking wasps.

* * * Okay, confession: Possibly once or twice while I was killing wasps last weekend one of them MIGHT HAVE flown at my face, causing me to run like hell through the house (up side of losing all that weight: I can RUN and not fall over from the exertion) squealing like a little girl, sure that my number was up. “I found her dead on the floor like that,” Fred would inform the cops in his usual earnest manner. “I don’t know what happened, I only know that the entire house shook and someone was squealing, and then she crashed to the floor and I thought she was kidding around so I didn’t check on her for fifteen or sixteen hours. By then, of course, she was good and dead.” And the cop would look at me and shake his head. “Too damn bad,” he’d say. “We get more people scared literally to death by wasps than you’d believe.” Then he’d scoff and shake his head again. “Damn pansy-ass city folk.” “She always was a bit of a wimp,” Fred would say, conveniently forgetting that he’d been pointing out wasps for me to kill all weekend long.” “Well, I’ll send out the medical examiner, but I’m sure he’ll say her death was caused by the face that she was a complete and utter spaz,” the cop would say. Fred would nod in agreement. Only I was FAST LIKE THE WIND and the damn hypothetical wasps never caught up to me. So there. (Also, I fully expected Fred to come down and say “What the fuck are you doing?”, only he never even noticed I was crashing through the house like a bull in a china shop. Nonexistent ghosts, he hears. Me running from one end of the house to the other sounding like a herd of elephants, nada.) * * * And last night as we were at the house and I was painting (KILL ME), I felt a tickling in my boobal area, so I looked down and found not one, not two, but three of those damn ladybug lookalike bugs crawling around in my shirt. I did a little dance and flicked them off me, squealing, and then stomped on them. You thought I was going to say I found a wasp down the front of my shirt, didn’t you? If that had happened, I’m not sure I’d have lived to tell the tale. * * * I’m about three weeks behind in watching my TV shows. I’m pretty much up to date on Lost (I still need to watch last night’s episode, though) and Grey’s Anatomy, but I have two or three episodes each of ER, Desperate Housewives, Brothers and Sisters, and Breaking Bonaduce to watch. I watched Desperate Housewives and Brothers and Sisters yesterday afternoon (is it just me, or is every man on that show except Uncle Saul just impossibly good-looking? Also, is it just me or is Sally Field reprising her role she played on ER as Abby’s crazy mother?), but then picked up an episode of Lost, a Dr. Phil, a Junk Brothers, and a Biggest Loser. I am NEVER going to catch up. * * * Hey. If one of you photoshoppin’ geniuses could take this picture and photoshop the toys and the carrier in the background out of the picture (and make sure you keep the picture full-size), I would appreciate it so much I’d link to you and give you big internet smooches. Thank you, Vix!!!! and Suzie!!!!! (I’m making a t-shirt for my niece for Christmas and think it’d look better without the stuff in the background.) * * * How lame am I for laughing at something in my entry from a year ago? I read I did threaten to name him “Doo McGillicuddy” and just call him Sugarbutt, but Fred wouldn’t go for that. and laughed out loud. I mean, for god’s sake. How perfect a name is “Doo McGillicuddy”? (I giggled again just typing the name.) Don’t be too surprised if the next foster kitten gets that name. * * *

Doesn’t Tommy look thrilled?

Maddy in mid-leap.

Dance, Maddy. DANCE! All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * *

Miz Poo sniffs out the situation. * * * Previously 2005: as a customer and a HUMAN, I outrank the computer, and I’d like a little RESPECT, thank you. 2004: All this cleaning is making me lightheaded. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Little things make me happy. 1999: Guest entry by Fred.]]>

11/8/06

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland “You have a Midland accent” is just another way of saying “you don’t have an accent.” You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
The South
The Inland North
The Northeast
Philadelphia
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

Good voice for TV or radio my ass. * * * Faith Hill claims that that whole thing at the Country Music Awards was a joke. I don’t know if it was or not, but since I’ve only ever heard good things about the woman – everyone is always talking about how sweet and kind she is – I guess I’ll choose to believe it was a joke. I bet she’s regretting it, though. Must be a slow news week, eh? Isn’t there an election coming up soon or something they could focus on? * * * So Princess Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik are gone. I emailed the shelter manager on Monday to ask her about getting their shots, and she told me that they could get their shots that day, and they could go to the pet store anytime before Tuesday adoptions began. Like I’ve said before, the smaller the cats are, the faster they go, so I ran them out to the shelter and got their shots on Monday. Monday evening we let them out of the room to roam. And late yesterday morning I took them to the pet store. They’re such sweet cats, but I’m sad because I feel like we didn’t really get a chance to bond with them. We didn’t want to let them out of the cat room too soon (we were worried our cats would catch giardia from them), and that’s how our foster kitties always bond with us, by exploring the house and hanging out with us. Fred said that it’s probably a good thing they went to the pet store so fast, because they were such sweethearts that we might have ended up with four more cats. Fred loves kittens who are about three months old because (he says) they don’t develop a personality before then (I disagree and offer up the example of one Maddy). And when I went into the kitten room this morning and Fezzik, Inigo, and Westley just about knocked each other for the privilege of flopping over on my feet, well, ya gotta love the little cuties. I hope they’re all adopted by Monday, when I go to the pet store again. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand them sitting in their cages looking sadly at me.

Fezzik got a little too close to Spot. Spot hissed. Fezzik hissed back. Is there anything LESS scary than a hissing kitten?

Break my heart, why don’tcha? * * * We went out to the house last night. Fred got off work a little earlier than usual, so we were at the house before 4:00. I’d hoped to spend time outside clearing more of the side yard, but it was gray and rainy and just plain yucky out, so that didn’t happen. I slapped a coat of paint on a couple of doors then we ate dinner, and for the rest of the evening I yanked the coving (?) from the top of the baseboards in the upstairs hallway, scraped the wallpaper hiding behind the coving, and then taped the hallway and started on the stairs so Fred will be able to start painting tomorrow or this weekend. Hopefully it’ll be nice enough outside on Friday that I can work outside most of the day. Not that I’m particularly an outdoorsy kind of gal, but if it’s between busting my ass clearing some of the weeds and overgrown crap from the land or painting, I’ll happily bust my ass every time. Fred spent most of the evening puttying in the holes in the walls of the upstairs hallway and the stairwell. He also worked on the cat house (as mentioned in the middle of this entry) for a while. Maxi and Newt went to the neighbor’s house last week. When we showed up to work on the house this weekend, who was sitting there on the front porch waiting for us? Why, Maxi and Newt. They’ve been there almost every time we’ve been out to the house since. They don’t always stay on the front porch – sometimes they disappear for a while (we found Maxi in the back forty on Sunday; I assume she was out there hunting, despite the fact that there was a bowl full of cat food on our front porch because IF THE CATS HAD TO GO TWO HOUSES DOWN THE ROAD TO EAT THEY MIGHT STARVE TO DEATH). If we don’t see both of them at some point during our time at the house, we worry. We didn’t see Maxi last night until just before we left, and we were able to leave happy to know that she was safe. In fact, when Fred heard her outside howling he went out to greet her, then brought her inside to say hi to me. Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats. (Though I told Nance that if these cats don’t end up inside cats – inside OUR house, that is – before the winter is over, I’ll eat my hat.) I can’t imagine why they’re hanging around our house so much. Maybe because we always feed them and have water for them? Maybe because Fred was so worried they’d get cold that he put a box on the front porch for them to sleep in. Maybe because Fred insisted that we bring an electric blanket from home to put in the box. I KID YOU NOT. Maybe because we always give them a can of wet cat food before we leave. Maybe because they’re aware that Fred is building them their very own house, which will sit on our front porch and which will have a HEATING SYSTEM (“Are you going to put crown moulding on the inside of the house?” I snarked at him last night. “No,” he said. “It’d take too much room. Maybe I’ll save that for when they decide they need more room and I add on to the house.”). Maybe they just like us. Who knows? That Newt is going to be the death of me, he’s such a sweet little monkey.

* * * To prove that I have NO PRIDE WHATSOEVER, I post for your enjoyment a picture Rick took of me. He snapped a picture of me and I said “Oh, great, take a picture of me with my mouth hanging open. I always look like an idiot in candid pictures!” And to illustrate the idea of looking like an idiot… well, take a look yourself:

Nance is sitting there frozen in horror that I’d actually post the picture, I bet. Heh! NO PRIDE, Nance. I have NO PRIDE. * * *

“Waiter, there appears to be a kitten in my soup.”

Deceptively cute.

Maddy the mouth-breather. (More pictures of Maddy and Maxi’s kittens here.) Previously 2005: It’s a fucking mystery. 2004: I seem to be a tad less fluttery today. 2003: No entry. 2002: Pictures. 2001: Fred in the dog house. Literally. 2000: I said “It’s a good thing you put your first AND last name, PLUS ‘your daughter’, otherwise I’d never have known!” 1999: Oddly, even though he’s had two doses of the antibiotic, he’s feeling worse instead of better. ]]>

11/7/06

this clip from the Country Music Awards. Even if you’re not a country music fan, you should check it out. Watch Faith Hill, on the left hand side. What the hell was going on there? I guess Faith thought she was going to win. Someone forgot to put her game face on!

* * * Readers who live in areas where there’s an issue with scorpions, perhaps you can offer some words of wisdom to reader Shelly, because I have no idea what to tell her: I’ve been moving into my new condo for the past two weeks and we finally slept there last night (had to get the beds over and stuff). Anyway, I met my new neighbors last night and they told me that the last lady that lived there had a serious problem with scorpions. She even taped up the fireplace flute (is that the right word for it?) that leads outside so they wouldn’t come in and put that spray foam under the sinks to plug up the holes, etc. The neighbors told me to get a couple mouser cats to kill the scorpions for me. So far I’ve only seen 1 and he was in the bathtub and we closed up the drain. We slept with all the lights on in the house last night. I wanted to get a cat anyway, because, well I’m a cat person and I’ve been living with my mom and she doesn’t like them, so I had to wait until I moved. But, here’s the problem, although the neighbors said that cats will kill the scorpions, I’m worried that they will get hurt. They said that cats are immune to scorpion stings, but I don’t know if this is true, and it still has to hurt them right?? So, I’m wondering if you know if cats will kill scorpions, and if they do, are they somehow immune or something? I don’t want to get one if they can be seriously harmed. But, I also don’t want one of my kids getting stung. Scorpions scare the hell out of me. Am I making any sense? I just thought that maybe you (or even some of your other readers) would have some insight. Thanks! Leave any words of wisdom in the comments, or email them to me and I’ll post them! * * * I hope this link works, ’cause I think you will love it. It does – and I do! * * * I was at Sam’s Club tonight and thought of you. They had some beautiful pet beds. They were fancy and the cats would probably hate them, but they were so pretty! And like $12.88…just in case Miss Maddie needs one since the printer thing isn’t quite working out! It’s too late for me to buy a bed for Miss Maddy (though rumor has it she has her very own pink pillow to sleep on), but next time I’m in Sam’s I’ll have to check them out. We do only have two beds for every And3rson kitty, y’know. * * * “Pillbug”? Ahem. Those are roly-polys. SAME DIFFERENCE. They’re also known as sow bugs and woodlice. * * * Yeah yeah yeah, you look great…but what I really want to know is how you know it’s the momma pill bug and not the daddy pill bug. That’s regarding this picture:

Where I referred to the Momma pill bug and her baby. How do I know it’s the Momma pill bug? Because Daddy pill bugs don’t take care of their babies OF COURSE. They’re DADDIES. They don’t have nothin’ to do with no child-rearin’! Just kidding. Actually I know it’s the Momma pill bug because she was screaming for chocolate and complaining about how her breasts were hurting. Kidding! It could have been the Daddy pill bug. I’d go back and check, but I’m sure the whole damn pill bug family bought it in the great Brush Clearing of ’06. * * * I was just thinking… do you mean get the cats inside your house or the garage? Do they have fleas? We brought the Momma and Daddy kitty and the kittens into the house in Smallville. We knew they’d be warm and safe in there – we could have brought them into the garage, but there are no doors anywhere in the garage so they’d have just sauntered back outside. Also, there’s no heat in the garage. They didn’t have fleas, but we treated them all with Advantage immediately upon bringing them inside, just in case. * * * You know Robyn, you could always use that sewing machine in front of the fireplace to whip yourself up some form fitting clothes. (That’s regarding this picture.) I could if (a) I could sew worth a damn and (b) they’d left the sewing machine behind. They took it with them, the bastards! * * * I’ve never seen wood walls in a house but the dining room looks great. Are the walls in the house insulated? They are… not? I think? Um, Fred? Wanna chime in, here? * * * Is Maddy just howling in the first two photos, or are those yawns, as well? That’s regarding these two pictures:

They were neither howls nor yawns – they were Maddy, being bad and trying to bite me. I’d lower my finger ’til she opened her mouth to bite, then get it out of the way and take a picture. Um. I was NOT training her to bite, Nance! * * * i wanna hear more about this book! are you laughing? is it funny? That’s regarding Stop Dressing Your Six Year-Old Like a Skank. I’ve gotta say – I just wasn’t that into the book. It wasn’t horrible, but my mind kept wandering while I was reading, so clearly it couldn’t hold my attention. I don’t recommend it. * * * I thought you might get a kick out of these cards. Those are awesome – I’m only saddened that I have no one to send them to! * * * Happy Birthday, Spud! Awesome star choker. Where did you get it?? She got it at Hot Topic in the mall. * * * What is giardia? It’s an intestinal infection that humans and animals can get. According to the shelter manager, Giardia seems to be one of those conditions that no one can agree on. [For treatment] Some say once a day, some say twice. Dosages seem to vary as well as duration of treatment. Per the parasitologist at Cornell (I attended a lecture at a conference a couple of years ago) it’s next to impossible to cure and some cats carry giardia with them forever. It’s never cured and reoccurs when the cat is under stress. * * * do you at least get to write all these vet visits off on your taxes? I wish! Well, actually, I don’t know. Perhaps I should have Fred ask the accountant. Maybe we could write off the cost of gas to transport the cats to the vet, anyway! * * * Where did you get those fabulous slippers? My mother bought them at Parisian, and it appears that they’re also available at Nordstrom and Dillard’s. I found this site where you can buy them, but it appears that the selection is dwindling quickly. Also available through Amazon, and I’d give eBay a try, too – search on “Shues.” * * * I wish you had a “Mister Boogers Hates You” poster, because I would buy it. I’ve also used the “Mister Boogers Hates You” stare on people, and it works great!!! It’s always the little things in life. No poster, but there may be forthcoming “Mister Boogers Hates You” merchandise including t-shirts, tote bags, and I don’t know. Post cards? Stay tuned! * * * Ewww…. Does that mean that Mama Kitty had babies with her son????? Or am I just misunderstanding?? No, we were calling him “Daddy kitty” because he was a mostly-adult male who suddenly was showing up with Momma kitty and the kittens, so we assumed he was the father. The vet decided he could very well be one of her kittens from a previous litter, but we’ve called him “Daddy kitty” for long enough that the name kind of stuck. Which isn’t to say that he couldn’t still be the father of the kittens. God knows cats are animals and gross things like that don’t bother them. After all, we’re talking about animals who kick their legs up in polite company and clean where the sun don’t shine. A little incest probably wouldn’t bother them all that much. ::shudder:: * * * I have a question for you. You may have told us before, but I don’t go back that far. Because you volunteer at the pet (?)store(?), do you get free spaying/neutering services for as many cats as you want to bring in? Or are you and Fred dishing out the normal fees for these services for all these cats? Just curious… I know it costs an arm and a leg here in the Northeast to have it done, so I can’t imaging having to pay for multitudes of cats to be done. When we take foster kittens to be spayed and neutered, the shelter pays for that (at a discounted price). So we didn’t pay for Maxi’s kittens to be fixed, or Maddy, or any of the fosters. We did pay for Maxi and Newt to be fixed and to get all their shots, but I consider that money well spent. It ensures that Maxi won’t get pregnant and bring more litters into the world, and that Newt won’t contribute to the problem, either. * * * Happy Halloween! Do you all give candy out? Can you eat sugar free candy since having gastric bypass or no candy at all? Fred was at the house on Halloween and the spud was at work. I did buy candy, and put it in a bowl with a sign that said “Take one” because I’m not someone who enjoys handing out candy all that much. I think the kids who came by took more than one, but as long as I didn’t have to keep answering the door, I was happy. I cannot eat sugar free candy, because the malitol and sorbitol – any of the -itols, really – sugar free stuff is sweetened with make me bloated and gassy and have actually been known to make me throw up in the past. I can stomach regular candy, but I avoid it most of the time. * * * I just reserved Lisey’s Story from the library today and hope to get to read it soon, so I’m glad to hear you’re liking it. I usually like King’s books, but not all the time (sometimes they’re way too gross or instense for me). Dean Koontz is more my style. Have you read Life Expectancy? It’s my favorite Koontz book (in fact, the first one I read that made me read others). I read Life Expectancy in March of 2005 (I only know when I read it because of my reading list) and enjoyed it a great deal. In fact, when we read that there was going to be a sequel to Odd Thomas, Fred and I both got all kinds of excited, because we mixed it up with Life Expectancy. Fred’s a bigger Dean Koontz fan than I am, but I like him a lot and have read most, if not every one of, his books. Watchers is our favorite Dean Koontz book. In fact, just thinking about it makes me want to read it again. * * * Happy anniversary Fred and Robyn. Were you married on Halloween? We were – October 31st is always Halloween (my mother didn’t know that – when I told her we were getting married on Halloween, she said “Oh, that’s neat. Every now and then your anniversary will be on Halloween!” and I said “No, Halloween is always October 31st.” I guess she thought it was, like, the last Friday of the month or something rather than a set date.). And no, we didn’t dress up in costume when we got married. We talked about going as Bill and Hilary, but didn’t. * * * I, too, was wondering if the cost of getting the Mom and Dad cats and their kittens spayed and neutered was covered by the no-kill shelter. If not, I would like to donate to the cause. Let me know! The shelter covered the kittens, yes. Mom and Dad, no. But save your money – I’m going to be raising money for the shelter beginning December 1st and running for a couple of weeks (at least), and I’ll be soliciting donations then. There’ll be things to buy (t-shirts, catnip pillows, calendars), or you can just make a straight donation to the shelter through me. * * * Isn’t there some kind of life cycle tie in thing between tape worms and fleas? Like if they have one then they have the other? Although I assume the vet would have noticed if they were flea infested, and you guys would have too. And I think if cats are outdoors chances are huge they will have worms, which is totally gross. Did you guys worm Mommy Kitty and Daddy Kitty? The vet said that they could have gotten the worms from eating fleas, or from eating wildlife (ie, the squirrels Momma kitty likes to catch). We did worm them all with Nemex as soon as we brought them inside, but Nemex doesn’t treat tapeworms, so we had to re-treat them with Drontal which gets rid of tapeworms. * * * Your new logo got me thinking….how do you like your new Suzuki Reno? I am looking at cars (Huyndai Accent, Toyota Yaris, and the Suzuki Reno), wanted to know your thoughts. I am really liking my Reno so far. The only thing I don’t like about it (and you’re going to roll your eyes at me, but just shaddup) is that it doesn’t have a temperature gauge for the outside temperature. I KNOW I don’t particularly need one but I liked having it with the Aerio and I kind of miss it! But as far as handling, room, and mileage, the Reno is working very well for me. * * * what are the chances of tracking the larvae from room to room and infesting the other cats? I can’t believe how beautiful those cats are to be so wormy.Will they be put up for adoption? My Mother always told us if we swallowed a cat hair that it would turn into a worm in our stomach. I’m so glad that is not true. How does Spidey Man feel about those kittens? I’m not sure what the chances are of infecting the other cats with worms. We’re very careful to always wash our hands after we’ve spent time with the kittens and if our cats contract worms, well, we’ll treat them. Mister Boogers has contracted tapeworms in the past from foster kittens, so I guess it’s always possible. The kittens are in great shape (and unwormy now, I assume, since they’ve been treated and I haven’t spotted any worms since poor Princess Buttercup had her worm-barfing spree); they’re at excellent weights, and they have the softest, thickest fur I’ve ever seen on kittens. They’re going to go up for adoption as soon as possible. The younger cats tend to be adopted faster (or so it seems), so hopefully they’ll be adopted quickly. With the exception of Princess Buttercup they’re all total lovebugs, and she’s so pretty that I think she’ll be adopted quickly as well. Spidey has no opinion on the kittens. Kittens do not scare him. KITTENS DO NOT SCARE SPIDEY. He will simply kick their asses if they try anything with him, and as long as Malevolent Madeleine doesn’t show her face again, he should be fine…. or WILL HE? * * * On a side note my friend who is a “dog person” recently discovered a baby kitten at her work which she took in and nursed back to health. But the vet here wouldn’t spay her until she was 4 months or 4 lbs. I just thought that was weird since you just got Maddy spayed and she’s just barely 7 weeks isn’t she? The ASPCA has declared that spaying a kitten who is at least 2 months old and 2 pounds is safe. Maddy was (looking at the calendar…) actually 9 weeks old when she was spayed. I think that it’s probably hard to find a vet who will spay and neuter kittens at such a young age. I don’t know if it’s so much that they disagree with spaying/ neutering so young and small as the fact that it’s got to be more difficult to spay/ neuter a 2-pound kitten than one twice that size. The shelter was lucky enough to find a vet who would/ could do it, which is a good thing – I think there was an issue with people adopting cats, promising to have them fixed, and then not following through. Nowadays, the shelter won’t adopt out kittens until after they’ve been fixed, and like I mentioned earlier, the smaller a kitten is, the faster it seems to be adopted. Here’s an interesting page of facts about spaying and neutering. * * * Your hair looks really cute in the group pic. Why’d you blur out Fred? and I don’t know what’s cracking me up so much, but the picture of in-focus you with the three blur-people is hilarious! I blurred out Fred in that picture because it cracked me up to put up a picture of me and three blurs. Also, back when Rick was in Alabama on business and we met him for dinner, I knew I had to blur Rick’s face, so Fred told me I had to blur his face as well. * * * I have a bunch of pictures of Maddy I haven’t cleared off my memory stick yet, so you’ll be seeing them for the next few days. YOU’RE WELCOME.

She fell asleep like this.

**********************************

Happy Sugs. * * * Previously 2005: This makes me want to wrap my child in bubble wrap and lock her in her room until she’s 35. 2004: No entry. 2003: Meme. 2002: “How fucking much is that goddamn bread? A dollar ninety-fucking-five? Okay, put a couple of the motherfuckers in my cart, would you, fuckwad?” 2001: I briefly considered making a citizen’s arrest. 2000: (ie, “It’s all the fault of that fat bitch you married!”) 1999: I woke this morning at 2:30ish, feeling something wasn’t quite right. ]]>

11/6/06

* * * So I thought Rick was going to kill me on Friday. He and Nance showed up and we hung out at the house for a while, then went out for a late breakfast/ early lunch at Cracker Barrel. After, we decided to go to Scottsboro to check out the Unclaimed Baggage store, and since Rick was driving and I (supposedly) knew where we were going, it was up to me to instruct him where to go. Let’s just say I had him cutting across three lanes of traffic not once, not twice, but THREE times. I guess you could say I suck at giving directions. I ended up getting in trouble with Fred because he left work early so Nance and Rick could see the house while it was still light outside (which I’d asked him the night before to do), but when he got home we weren’t there. He’d made it sound like he couldn’t leave work early; how was I supposed to know he’d not only leave work early, he’d do it without calling me to let me know he was on his way? Fred told Nance that the only thing that could be done to repay him for having to wait for us was if she’d get on the tractor. And she did! Fred was nice, though, and didn’t make her drive the tractor or anything. We showed them the house and the grounds and babbled at them both about our plans for every single room and probably bored the everloving shit out of them, but they were nice and pretended to be interested. I promise you this: if you come to visit me in the next few months, I will babble incessantly at YOU about our plans for the house, too. And Fred will probably insist that you drive the tractor around the back forty. We took them to our favorite “Not haute cuisine or fancy in any way, but cheap and good!” country restaurant (and I coveted Nance’s ham and cheese sandwich and wished I’d ordered that instead) and swung by the Starbucks in Athens on the way home to check for half-price Halloween merchandise. (Confidential to Nance: The Starbucks in Target didn’t have half-price Halloween stuff, either. I checked for you!)

“Lady, why you wearing Elmo on your feet?” Once back at our house, we watched Mission Impossible III (is that right? III? Have there only been 3 of them? It seems like there have been SO many more than that.) and then talked and made Maddy and the rest of the cats show off for them. Fred spread catnip across the carpet, Mister Boogers got high and acted like an ass, and Miz Poo just sat there and smacked anyone who got within smacking distance. After a while, they left, promising to come back in the morning on their way out of town to pick up Maddy. And naturally I made everyone pose for a picture first.

Don’t I totally look Photoshopped in? That’s RickBlur on the left (of course you remember him from his visit to Alabama a while back), NanceBlur next to him, me, then FredBlur. I kind of half-hoped they’d skedaddle out of town without picking up Miss Maddy, and I got teary-eyed for a moment at bedtime when Miss Maddy settled down next to me. But then she woke me up Saturday morning at 5:45 by biting me on the back, and I wished Nance and Rick would just show the hell up and take her away already. I do miss the little brat, but I know she’s going to be spoiled rotten in Pennsylvania so I’m not worried about her. Besides, it gives me an excuse to visit Pennsylvania, right? So I can check up on Maddy’s welfare and make sure they’re not beating her too much. * * * We worked at the house all weekend, of course. Saturday I did some painting inside (doors and the shelves in one of the spud’s closets) and then worked outside for a while. Fred had occasion to visit Lowe’s on Friday morning and while he was there, he bought me a new toy.

My very own little chainsaw!

Before.

After. After we had lunch, I finished taping around the top of the spud’s room so Fred could paint the trim, and then I went outside and worked on more of the lawn behind the shed and garage. There’s a fairly decent lawn back there, but a lot of weeds and small trees have popped up, so I chopped a ton of them down with my chainsaw (the chain only came off once, which I consider pretty good for me) and hauled them to the burn pile. There was a lot of difference when I was done (or at least when I gave up for the day), but naturally I didn’t take any pictures so you’ll have to take my word for it. I want to work on the area along the ditch behind the shed and garage (the ditch pretty much marks the property boundary) and clear it out on Tuesday, and then maybe next weekend I’ll be ready to clear the yard next to and behind the house so I can actually mow the lawn there. We shall see. * * * Dear Julie, Waldo, Geneva, and Sadie: Please be nice to your new little sister. Or she will…

Pull out the Matrix movies and…

tell you what she really thinks of you. She’s good for snuggling with; just don’t get too close to her when she’s wide awake. You wouldn’t like her when she’s wide awake. xoxo, Robyn * * *

Spidey is not sneaking into the fridge for a cool bottle of water and a nice apple. NOT. You don’t see Spidey. Spidey was never here, you understand? * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: So, Jackie, how’s the weather up there in Vancouver Washington? 2002: My life. So very exciting. 2001: Instead, when the question was posed to him, he looked at me as if I were perhaps mentally deficient. 2000: Have I mentioned that I love that man? 1999: And when you’re not good at something, unless you’re hugely delusional, you pretty much know that you’re not good at it. Even if you don’t know, there’s always someone more than willing to point it out to you.]]>

11/3/06

I had a stern talk with her before I went to pick up her new Mommy. “Maddy,” I said. “Don’t be showing your ass to your new Mommy. She will spoil you ROTTEN, but if you go bouncing over to her and bite her like you like to do, she might change her mind and then I will have to put you in the scary cage at the pet store for ten seconds until a sucker comes along and falls in love with you.” She didn’t listen; they never do. She showed her ass all OVER the place, and not only did she bite and pounce and scratch, she showed off her incredible (non)intelligence by laying on her back and kicking herself in the face. And yet her new Mommy fell in love with her anyway. Who could blame her? Oh, and did I mention who her new Mommy is? That’s right, Nance and Rick are here in ‘Bama! They spent the day hanging out at Casa And3rson and it was SO FREAKIN’ COOL. Nance called me a “peanut of a woman” in her journal, but she is clearly crazy. She’s got that tall, lanky thing going on and I’ve got to tell you – she’s got fabulous hair. It’s so straight and shiny that I kept staring at it like a freak. And she cracked me the hell up all day long. At one point she was talking to Rick on the phone (he had to work for part of the day then came to the house) and she had me laughing so hard just from the faces she was making that the cats were worried. You have to see Nance and Rick together to appreciate them – they play off each other and they’re funny as shit. (We were waiting for dinner to be ready and Nance said a sentence that had “fuck” in it, and then she immediately said “Sorry, Danielle”, and I said “Oh, she’s heard THAT before!”, and the spud said “Yeah. I live with THEM!” Hee!) I cooked for them – Unfried Chicken – and Nance brought Pigs in a Blanket (the Pennsylvania version) with her. Pennsylvania Pigs in a Blanket aren’t what you’d expect. They’re not hot dogs rolled in crescent rolls and baked. They’re beef and rice rolled in cabbage leaves and there’s a tomato sauce there, too. Rick is not a fan of cabbage (as we found out when we met him last time), but I like cabbage. I like beef and rice, and I like tomato sauce. And now I know that I like Pennsylvania Pigs in a Blanket! They were a hit with Fred and the spud, too, and I have a feeling I’ll be demanding the recipe from Nance. Miz Poo loves Nance and Rick. No, I’m sorry, she LOVES THE HELL out of Nance and Rick. Because they told her how pretty she was, and petted her. And petted her. And petted her. And when they were done with that? They petted her some more. There’s nothing Miz Poo likes more than people who appreciate her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up stowing away in their suitcases and going home with them. Actually, she probably loves them most of all because they’ll be taking Maddy with them! Fred and Rick bonded over a Man Movie (X-Men III), and Nance and I went to the mall so she could get some Muppet slippers. She opted for the red ones, which we referred to as her Elmo slippers. (Oh, the Muppet slippers can be found here. Or at Parisian, if you have one in your area.) The cool thing is that they’re going to be here for another day, so there’ll be more hanging out and giggling at their antics. And! Tonight we’re taking them to Smallville so they can see the house and then we’re dragging them to our favorite little country restaurant. You KNOW Fred’s going to try to get them to ride the tractor around the back forty.

* * * Previously 2005: Huh. I was wondering why Tom Cullen was snooping around in the stamp drawer 2004: The spud and I stood patiently by while the man chattered at the school employees for several minutes and then my head exploded, scattering brain matter everywhere. 2003: “Jessica Lynch!” I said. “Isn’t she the only POW we’ve ever had in all of history?” 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green. ]]>

11/1/06

new logo! This one was created by the wonderful Aly in GA. Thanks, Aly!

* * * I don’t know what the weather was like where y’all are, but last night just as it started to get dark – when the trick or treaters usually start showing up – it began raining like hell. I had to go to Ardmore to pick up the kittens, and when I got back an hour later, it was still raining and there were no trick or treaters in sight. I had to go to the pet store to meet the shelter manager and pick up some stuff for the kittens, and when I got home, there were trick or treaters all over the place. Since I had no desire to keep getting up to answer the door, I put all the candy I’d bought in a big bowl, put it on the front step along with a note that read “Take one”. “No one’s going to just take one,” Fred told me. “They’re going to grab as many as they can.” I did not care in the slightest. I had candy, I wanted the trick or treaters to get rid of it, and I didn’t care if one of them poured the whole bowl of candy in his sack. There was a steady stream of trick or treaters (I could hear them walk up to the door and say “It says take ONE”) and an hour after I’d put the bowl out, I looked out to see that there were two pieces of hard candy left, and a slug crawling up the side of the bowl. I hope one of the little brats who took a handful of candy ended up with a slug, too. That’d serve ’em right! * * * I brought Maxi’s kittens home last night and put them in Maddy’s room. I got them settled in (Inigo kept walking around making a questioning chirping sound. Apparently he was disturbed by the change in scenery.) and when I walked out the door, all the cats in the house were gathered around staring at the door. Maddy, especially, wanted to know what was going on. I believe if she had the power of speech she would have said “WTF, lady? That’s MY room!” When Fred got home from the house, we went upstairs and gave them all their medication (they saw tapeworms coming out of Princess Buttercup at the vet and said that most likely all the kittens have tapeworms, so we gave each of them a dose of Drontal for that, metronidazole for the giardia, and Albon for the coccydia). The boys were ultra friendly, crawling around on us, playing, letting us pick them up and pet them, purring very loudly. Princess Buttercup is very shy, but even she came out of hiding a few times to let Fred pet her. We came back downstairs to watch TV, and decided to go to bed early so we could stop and play with the kittens for a little while on our way to bed. I went upstairs and Fred said “I just stepped in a pile of puke inside the door! While I go downstairs and turn the computer room light off, why don’t you clean it up?” This, for the record, goes against the “He who spies it cleans it the hell up. Complaining is allowed.” rule, but I was game. I took the baby wipe he handed me and went to our bedroom door to clean up the puke. “Where is it?” I yelled down to him. “Right inside the doorway.” I looked and looked, and didn’t see a single pile of puke anywhere. “I don’t see it!” I yelled. “You can’t miss it!” he called back as he came up the stairs. “Apparently I can!” I said. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Looking for the pile of puke!” “It’s inside the cat room,” he said, looking at me like I was an IDIOT. Which I am. “Oh. Well, here, you clean it up. I have to go to the bathroom.” He called me a bad word and went into the cat room to clean it up. As I came out of the bathroom, I heard him make an exclamation of serious disgust. “What?” I said. “I thought this was a rubber band,” he said, and flipped on the overhead light. He held out the baby wipe, which was wrapped around half-digested cat food. “But it’s a TAPEWORM!” Fred went back into the cat room and ended up finding another two piles of vomit, and the last one he found was NOTHING but worms. I’d never seen a tapeworm up close and personal before, but there was no doubt it was a tapeworm – it was flat and wide and very very long. Also, it had segments. There was a long, skinny worm (or worms) mixed in there as well. I freaked OUT, because I had NO IDEA that a cat could ever vomit up worms. I know they come out the other end, but as far as being vomited up? I’d never heard of such a thing. “I’m going to call Susan,” I said, and did. In fact, I left her one message, and when Fred found the pile of nothin’ but worms, I called again to let her know that Princess Buttercup was vomiting up a LOT of worms. I could have called her on her cell phone, but I didn’t think it was an emergency, so I figured if I didn’t hear from her, I’d call her in the morning. We went back into the cat room and played with the boys and kept an eye on PB, who looked like she wasn’t feeling well at all, but then she came out of the carrier (where she’d been sleeping) and started playing like she felt just fine. Susan called me back about an hour later and asked if I was sure they were tapeworms PB had been vomiting up (I was), and we discussed what I should do (give the kittens Revolution today, because it will kill some of the worms, then wait a few days and give her another Drontal (did I mention that Fred dug through the piles of cat vomit until he found a half-digested Drontal pill? Now THAT, my friends, is a man.)), and at one point she said “You’ve just got all KINDS of parasites going on, don’t you?” and laughed. INDEED. This morning, PB seems to be acting just fine, if skittish (which is normal for her). The first thing I did when I walked into the room was give them Metronidazole which they hate because it tastes nasty, but they forgave me, and soon Fezzik and Inigo were flopping all over me, wanting to be petted, and purring their little butts off. These kittens are just so sweet. I’d love it if they all got adopted together (not going to hold my breath, though), but I’d be happy if they got adopted in two sets of two, too.

“Stop looking at me, or I’ll barf up a tapeworm in your lap.” *********************** Someone asked in yesterday’s comments if my mother was adopting Maddy. That’s a no, though she did say a few times “If this one didn’t already have someone adopting her, I’d bring her home with me!” Which I don’t believe, because when they were here last year she and my father absolutely fell in love with Jodie and Rambo, and they didn’t adopt them. I just don’t think they’re that interested in having their own cat, though they love visiting and loving on ours. Maddy’s going to her new home this weekend. I’m going to miss the little brat, for sure. I can’t believe she’s the same kitten we got when she was three weeks old (hard to believe it’s been almost 7 weeks!), she’s such a little spitfire that I could sit and watch her crazy antics for hours.

All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * *

The Sugs is disturbed.

The Sugs is taking his life in his paws.

HATE. * * * Previously 2005: And I don’t WANNA. 2004: Fuckin’ yawnsville. 2003: No entry. 2002: Bob Riley’s campaign strategy is to say “Nuh uh!” 2001: Did you know that they make foam cups in espresso size? 2000: No entry. 1999: Such appetizing topics, eh?]]>