5/22/08

Before I leave for the hospital, I’m clearing out my “post this someday” folder, so I have pictures for you. Also, a couple of movies and tons of kitten pics. LUCKY YOU. Every morning, Sugarbutt has a little while where he runs around with his ass afire. I happened to catch him one day last … Continue reading “5/22/08”

Before I leave for the hospital, I’m clearing out my “post this someday” folder, so I have pictures for you. Also, a couple of movies and tons of kitten pics. LUCKY YOU.

Every morning, Sugarbutt has a little while where he runs around with his ass afire. I happened to catch him one day last week.

(Or you can see it here in MPG format.)

Also, another movie of the kittens. At 4 weeks old, they’re wild little things!

(See it here in MPG format.)

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I don’t know if it is or not, but this sure looks like Sarah Jane Morris to me.

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These squirrels drive the cats CRAZY.

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I love spring.

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Wisteria bloomed, briefly.

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Newt approves of my new bedspread.

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Rhode Island Red. These chickens have gotten so big all of a sudden.

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Pretty girl, hateful glare.

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“Hellew.”

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This kitten, I swear to god, loves to lay around with her mouth open. You don’t even have to poke at her or mess with her, she sees the camera, she just lays there with her mouth open.

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See?

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Okay, I’m outta here. See you on the flip side!

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Previously
2007: I am so old.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: More proof – not that you need it – that I am the ruler of the Kingdom of Dumbassery.
2002: I HAVE TO WAIT ‘TIL THE FALL?!
2001: So, Kaycee Nicole never existed.
2000: First off, I just have to say that my husband has the smoothest ass, ever.

5/21/08

We just finished disc 4 of Heroes, season one, and tell me this: Is Niki’s horseshit “power” going to manifest itself as something more interesting EVER, or will she just continue to be a freakishly strong multiple personality? Because I like Ali Larter, but Niki’s “power” is BO. RING. (The other night when she broke … Continue reading “5/21/08”

We just finished disc 4 of Heroes, season one, and tell me this: Is Niki’s horseshit “power” going to manifest itself as something more interesting EVER, or will she just continue to be a freakishly strong multiple personality? Because I like Ali Larter, but Niki’s “power” is BO. RING. (The other night when she broke a billy club in half, Fred said “I’d say that qualifies her as strong.” Indeed.) If Niki and Jessica manifested themselves in separate bodies so that other people could see both of them, that might be kind of impressive.

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Holy mother of god, this is the SLOWEST DAY EVER. If this next 24 hours would just up and pass, I’d be eversograteful.

After poking around Flickr, I found that you can actually send a cameraphone picture to Flickr, which will in turn post it to your blog. Therefore, before I leave for the hospital tomorrow, I’ll set this page up so that several entries can be shown on the same page, and I will surely post a couple of times from the hospital while I’m waiting to go in for surgery. I’d show Fred how to do it so he could post from the waiting room, but he’s not into that sort of thing.

We have to be at the hospital at 6:30 tomorrow, which means we’ll need to leave, I’m guessing, around 5:45ish. Which means I’ll probably get up at 4:30 so I can scoop the litterboxes and take my shower and snuggle with the kittens before we go.

Odd thing, I’ve had this itchy patch of eczema on my arm that’s been driving me crazy for a week or so and it just wouldn’t go away. I used Dial Antibacterial for the past couple of days (instructions from the doctor, use antibacterial soap on the areas that will be operated on for three days before the day of surgery. Ordinarily, I use Dove in the shower.) and the patch hasn’t bothered me since. Hmmm.

Shirley asked in my comments yesterday if I’d still be able to play with the kittens after surgery. I don’t see that there’s any way I could stay away from those babies much past Friday. If I can’t get down on the floor, I’ll make Fred drag one of the recliners in there, and they can climb up into the recliner and snuggle with me. I can’t imagine being in the same house and not spending time with them, it would drive me crazy. As far as I’m concerned, my incisions will be covered with a binder/ corset sort of thing, so they can bite and scratch at me all they want, and if it gets to be too much, I’ll put them in timeout, the little brats.

Oh, and LeighC asked how long I’ll be in the hospital. It’ll be overnight, so I’ll be released Friday morning, probably first thing. It’s technically an “outpatient” procedure, which means I’ll be in the hospital 23 hours. Less hospital costs if it’s not “inpatient”, I guess.

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Yummy things I have recently cooked:

Quick Shrimp Po’ Boys. I found this recipe in Real Simple magazine last summer and thought it looked good enough to try, so I ripped it out, stuck it in my pile of recipes-to-try, and forgot about it until recently. We had them for dinner Friday night, and they were really good. I haven’t had a lot of Po’ Boys in my time (which is kind of surprising to me, since I LOVE shrimp), so I don’t know what “real” Po’ Boys entail, but these were certainly good and worth having again. My only gripe is the amount of bread. I loathe a sandwich that doesn’t easily fit in your mouth (insert (HA HA) disgusting sexual innuendo here), and I think next time I’ll buy a baguette, remove a lot of the bread from the middle and see how that goes.

Monday night I decided to make pulled pork (also known as “Barbecue”, here in the south) because I’d recently seen this recipe. So I put the pork butt in the crock pot as soon as I got up Monday morning, ignored it until a little after 3:00, then pulled it out of the crock pot to shred it. I was dreading this part because I figured it was going to be a pain in the ass, but not SO, my friends. That stuff shredded very, very easily. It took me just a few minutes to shred it, I drained the fat from the crock pot*, mixed the shredded pork with Big Bob Gibson’s BBQ sauce, put it back into the crock pot, and Fred was so hungry an hour later that instead of having it with corn on the cob and yellow squash as I’d intended, we just made sandwiches with the stuff, and it was DIVINE.

We had it again last night, and I said to Fred, “Next year, we can have shredded pork made with OUR OWN PIGS, and we can serve it with coleslaw made from OUR OWN CABBAGE and maybe with a side of bread made in OUR OWN BREADMAKER!” We’re having it again tonight, and I don’t doubt that Fred will have it again for dinner tomorrow night. It makes a LOT, is what I’m saying.

I think this stuff is best saved for Fridays for us, though. I hadn’t realized just how fatty pork butt is (the obvious escapes me sometimes) and I did scrape off all the fat I could see when I was shredding the pork, and I did drain the fat out of the crock pot, but it was so damn good that there must have been 63,000 grams of fat per bite of the stuff. SO GOOD.

And while I’m talking about food, a few weeks ago I made a batch of Not Yo’ Momma’s Banana Pudding, and instead of slicing the bananas, I cut them up in small pieces (like small cubes), and it was really good that way. Next time, I’m going to break the graham crackers up into smaller pieces, too.

*The liquefied fat from the crock pot went into a bowl, and when Fred got home, he dumped it over some leftover moldy bread and fed it to the pigs and they LOVED it. These pigs, I’ve gotta say, are coming in handy as garbage disposals on legs.

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That goddamn mother chicken, I swear to god. She is the dumbest, least caring mother on the face of this goddamn earth, or at least on Crooked Acres, and since I have the BEST MOTHER EVER upstairs in the kitten room who will fuck you UP if you mess with her babies, I know whereof I speak.

The chicks are itty bitty and as such, can easily hop through the fence to the other side. This is generally not an issue, because Momma Chicken clucks as she moves along, and the babies hear her and stay with her and if any protecting needs to be done, she does it.

So yesterday morning I was outside filling up the bird feeders, and as always, when the flock o’ chickens saw me, they ran over to the fence and looked hopefully at me, because after I fill up the bird feeders, I give the chickens a scoop of bird seed and they pick out what they like and leave the rest for whatever birds come along.


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As I filled up the bird feeders, I glanced over and saw that the baby chickens had gone through the fence between the chicken yard and the back yard. Momma Chicken, rather than GIVING A SHIT about her babies was acting like what she is – ie, a stomach on legs – and was standing looking at me and hoping that bird seed would be forthcoming and she was nowhere near her babies.

I looked over in the clump of dead daffodils, which is where Joe Bob likes to hang out, and noted that he wasn’t looking at the baby chickens, was instead looking at the entire other side of the back yard.

I finished filling up one bird feeder and walked toward another, and glanced into the back yard again and realized to my horror that Joe Bob had seen the baby chickens and was low, crawling toward them, and moving fast.

“Joseph!” I said in a stern voice. “No!”

He acted like he couldn’t hear me, a favorite trick all the cats have perfected, and he kept on going. Momma Chicken didn’t even glance toward her babies.

“Joe, NO!” I yelled, and started running toward him. He kept going. “JOE! NO!” I bellowed, and I threw the bird seed scoop at him. It landed near him, he ran off, and the baby chickens stood there and looked confused. FINALLY, Momma Chicken remembered she had babies, and she clucked at them and they ran back into the chicken yard.

I recovered the bird seed scoop and tossed a scoop of bird seed into the chicken yard, all the time swearing up a storm and telling Momma Chicken what a useless dumbass she was.

She didn’t seem to much care about my opinion of her, though. Grrrr.

Fucking chickens.


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Yesterday morning I went into the kitten room to hang out with them before I cleaned out their litter boxes (since the plain clay litter just falls apart when it’s peed upon, I find it easiest to just dump out the litter every morning and replace it with fresh), and as I sat there in my nightgown, River took it upon himself to climb up the sleeve of my nightgown.

I imagine that in the operating room, the surgeon’s going to say “Why is she covered in small cuts [I originally typo’d “small cats“. HA!] from head to toe?”


(pic) Is it just me, or is there an element of “IN YO FACE!” in this picture?

Today’s uploaded kitten pics can be seen hither.

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On the table, the dining room table, the Suggie sleeps toniiiiiiiiiight!

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: We’re off to Memphis.
2003: Possum #2.
2002: Mean mommy.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

5/20/08

*Edited to add: I’m having surgery Thursday, not tomorrow!* On my way to Huntsville yesterday, I decided I wasn’t up for having my eyes checked (I have plenty of contacts and my glasses are fine), so I called and canceled my appointment. I still didn’t get home ’til almost 1:00, what with all the errands … Continue reading “5/20/08”

*Edited to add: I’m having surgery Thursday, not tomorrow!*

On my way to Huntsville yesterday, I decided I wasn’t up for having my eyes checked (I have plenty of contacts and my glasses are fine), so I called and canceled my appointment. I still didn’t get home ’til almost 1:00, what with all the errands I needed to run.

I hit Target, the pet store, Sam’s, and the mall. I spent more time in the mall than I’d intended, but I came out of there with lemon-scented candles, which I’ve been looking for forEVER, so I was happy.

At Target, I ended up buying a couple of oversized (over my size, that is) men’s button-up shirts. I’m going to pair one of those with some big, comfy pants to wear home from the hospital, so I should be all set. Thanks, by the way, for all your dress suggestions. Just ’cause I didn’t use them doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them – and y’all ROCK.

I’ve actually set up Flickr so that I can post pictures from my cell phone, so it’s possible that I’ll be posting a picture or two from the hospital (I’ll leave a link to Flickr at the top of Thursday’s entry, which I will post before we leave for the hospital).

It’s also entirely possible that I won’t do anything but drift in and out of a narcotic-induced haze. Who knows?

As is my way, I’ve had anxiety dreams the last few nights. Not terrible ones, just ones where I wake up slightly freaked out, realize I was dreaming, and go back to sleep. I’m simultaneously looking forward to and dreading the whole thing. If there was a way I could go to sleep and wake up about a month after the surgery, I’d totally go for it. But like I told Fred last night, the only way to get to the other side is to go through it, so go through it I shall.

And I’m sure there’ll be plenty o’ bitching.

Yes, I’m taking before and after pictures of myself in underwear and no, I’m not sharing those. Unlike the underwear pictures I’ve shared in the past over at OneFatBitchypoo (don’t bother looking, I took them down) several years ago after I did a round of Body For Life-style lifting, cardio, and eating, there are far too many people I know in real life reading my sites these days, and I can’t think of a one of them I’d want to see me in my underwear.

I can only imagine the depth of your disappointment. But at least you won’t be reeling around screaming “My eyes! My eyes!”

I will, however, be taking before and after pictures of myself in clothes that I’ll happily share. Those probably won’t be up for a month or two, though, until after the swelling has gone down some.

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In answer to the question Elisha asked in yesterday’s comments, this is the first time I’ve made my own no-waste bird seed. I decided to give it a try because the no-waste seed I’ve been buying (I’d provide a link, but I’m too lazy to go look for it) has become about half cashews. Which is fine and all, the birds and the squirrels like the cashews, but they’re such big pieces that they block up the bird feeders and it gets annoying. Also, there’s no corn in the mix anymore, and I thought I’d just give it a try myself.

It’s not really less expensive than the stuff I’d been buying, but I also don’t have to deal with the cashews anymore, which is more than worth the pain of having to mix my own. Judging by how quickly the bird feeders are emptying, the birds don’t have any complaints.

Probably it would be cheaper next time around if I actually looked and found a local supplier who could get me sunflower chips, white millet, canary seed, and roasted peanut chunks in bulk rather than ordering them online from various places. I would expect that the co-op would carry at least some of that, if not all of it.

I keep the bird seed mix in a 50-gallon garbage can in the garage. It’s covered, so it keeps the mice out.

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I noticed yesterday that the kittens’ eyes are starting to change color. Around their pupils, the color is lightening and starting to turn to green.

Inara has taken to immediately coming over to me and asking to be picked up as soon as I come into the room. She likes to be cradled like a baby, and she likes to pat my face with her paws and then sniff my face and just when I’m about to melt from the cute, she starts with the claws and teeth and I have to put her in timeout. She’s the one who reminds me the most of Maddy.

Speaking of cats, I cannot believe it’s been three years since we got our very first batch of foster kittens. A quick check of my Flickr sets tells me we’re on about our 16th set of fosters. Some of them I remember fondly, some of them I barely remember. Very few of them – THANK GOD – have been returned to the shelter.


Inara makes the goofiest faces.


“You ever get that feeling like someone’s watching you?”


“So, I was mindin’ my own bidness and she climbs RIGHT into the litter box with me and she’s all kicking litter around and I’m all ‘Do you MIND? A man needs his privacy!’ but she just ignored me. I mean, seriously. Have you EVER?”


God, they’re huge.


::slurp::

Tons and tons of cute kitten pictures up over at Flickr.

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Miss Stank has perfected the art of the baleful glare.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: It is, in fact, a happy-go-lucky-shpadoinkle-dy daaaaaaaaaaaaay.
2004: First day with the new brain, you know.
2003: So, Fred got it into his head a few weeks ago that he wanted a kayak.
2002: And further, you don’t get to be indignant and hurt when they act pissed off and boo you off the stage.
2001: No entry.
2000: Yesterday, I sneezed twenty-three times in a row. Fucking allergies.

5/19/08

I had myself a pretty damn busy weekend. It started Friday with me spending a couple of hours cleaning and rearranging the garage. I don’t park in the garage (we’ve had the brooder set up in there for the past several months, between the chicks we got from the hatchery and the ones we hatched … Continue reading “5/19/08”

I had myself a pretty damn busy weekend. It started Friday with me spending a couple of hours cleaning and rearranging the garage. I don’t park in the garage (we’ve had the brooder set up in there for the past several months, between the chicks we got from the hatchery and the ones we hatched ourselves), and we’ve just been tossing stuff in there. A lot of crap had piled up, and after I broke down all the cardboard boxes we had in there and carted them off to the recycling center last weekend, there was a lot of trash that needed to be carted off to the dump. When I was done, there was a nice-sized pile of trash sitting on Fred’s side of the garage and everything else was neatly arranged.

I don’t remember what the hell else I did Friday – hey, it’s been DAYS – but I do remember that I didn’t sit my ass down in front of the TV to watch Lost and Grey’s Anatomy until mid-afternoon, and I never did get around to watching ER. Oh look, a crazy person is holding hostages in the ER. All our favorite characters are in peril. Le yawn.

Saturday morning I got up early (I’d told Fred to wake me up if I wasn’t up by 7:00. HA. I was up before 6:00; I don’t remember the last time I slept past 6:00, actually. Damn cats.) and did my usual morning stuff, spent a little time with the kittens, took my shower, and it was time to leave for the dump. The dump was surprisingly unbusy for a sunny Saturday morning, so we were done pretty quickly there. We stopped by the ATM so Fred could activate his ATM card (after calling to activate the card, you then have to do a “balance inquiry” at any ATM, an action that they charge you 50 cents for. Fuckers.), then over to the co-op so Fred could buy pig feed and chicken feed and a bag of cracked corn (Jimmy did it. I don’t care.) so I could make my very own mix of no-waste wild bird seed for the bird feeders.

I know. I’m a dork.

We got home and I found that the loaf of bread I’d started as soon as I rolled out of bed

(Side note: We got a bread machine for Fred’s birthday (from Fred’s father). Guess who’s making all the bread now? That would be the person who doesn’t really eat much bread. HI. Is this fair? Like my birthday present to Fred is making him loaves of bread WHENEVER HE WANTS? So his birthday gift from me lasts all year? Not fair. Not at all.)

(Side note #2: Actually, it’s not that difficult or complicated. I just like to bitch. DUH.)

(Side note #3: I like bread fine, it’s just that I don’t eat many sandwiches. And even when I do, I consider the bread to be the device that delivers chicken salad (or whatever) to my mouth rather than something to be appreciated for itself.)

was done cooking, and it was lumpy and misshapen and not worth giving to Fred’s father and stepmother, who’d mentioned the possibility of stopping by during the day. We decided to walk down to the dollar store (which recently opened very close by) and see if they had whole wheat flour. We didn’t expect that they would, but it was worth a look.

We were about to head out the door when Fred asked if I had any cash on me. I reminded him that he’d gotten money back at the co-op, which I only knew because I’d been bored waiting for the guys to bring out the feed Fred bought, and picked up the receipt and looked it over. Fred informed me that he had not, in fact, gotten cash back. But we didn’t have the receipt, because he’d had to go back into the co-op to be refunded for the cedar shavings he’d bought and which, ultimately, they didn’t have in stock and they’d kept the receipt.

So we got in the car and drove to the co-op, and Fred pontificated at length about how much he hates this one kid who works there and is slower than molasses and always fucks something up. He was only in the co-op for a couple of minutes. Once the woman working there looked at the receipt, she could see what had happened and she refunded Fred his money.

Since we were so close to town (we’d stopped at the dollar store to check, but they had no whole wheat flour, no surprise) we went to the grocery store, and despite the fact that it’s a full-sized grocery store with a large baking aisle, the only kind of flour they had was white. We talked about it for a minute, decided to get bread flour and make a loaf of white bread for Fred’s parents.

(The doughy, misshapen loaf – which I attributed to “old flour” is being fed to the pigs and chickens.)

We got home and finally got to get started on doing the stuff we’d been planning on doing. I started the new loaf of bread (Fred came in and interrupted me 17 times and I threw up my hands at one point and said “If this bread comes out okay, it’ll be a MIRACLE.” It turned out just fine.) and then helped Fred as he packed eggs for shipping.

I see that big cartoon question mark over your head right now. Yes, eggs for shipping. Turns out, you can sell fertile eggs on eBay for about $1 an egg, and so far Fred’s sold 2 dozen of them (the second dozen is going out in the mail today). What with the price of food these days, it seems that more and more people are raising their own chickens for food. Who knew?

I cleaned up the kitchen, did some dusting, vacuumed the entire house, spent some time with Kara and the babies, and just generally puttered around the house most of the day. At several points I went outside to see what Fred was doing, and watch our new Momma Chicken walk around the chicken yard followed by her babies, and see the toddlers* run around their new playpen. I also mixed up my first batch of no-waste bird seed (25 lb roasted peanut chunks, 25 lb sunflower chips, 25 lb white millet, 10 lb basic canary seed, 25 lb cracked corn), and filled the bird feeders.

So far, the birds seem to like my no-waste mix. Or if they don’t, they’re pretending to. Maybe they’re just being polite.

Sunday, I was up early again due to a cat I’M SURE (actually, now that I think about it, a really loud car going by the house woke me up.) and I rolled out of bed and hit the ground running. I started laundry, cleaned the kitchen, scooped the litter boxes, took my shower, then spent some time with Kara and the babies. When it was almost 8:00, I took my massive grocery list and left for the grocery store.

Too damn much money later, I got home and put the groceries away. I had breakfast, and then at 10:00, I started cooking.

Since I’m going in for surgery on Thursday (plastic surgery in the form of a lower body lift, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention) and won’t feel like cooking for at least a couple of weeks, I wanted to cook and freeze a bunch of meals so that all Fred will have to do is either put something in the oven for a specified amount of time, or take a container with a prepared entree in it out of the freezer and nuke it. I started cooking at 10:00 and wasn’t done until about 3:00.

Now, granted, I took plenty of breaks, but still. That’s a lot of damn cooking!

What I made, for the curious among you: Light ‘n Luscious Lasagna (this will serve as two meals for the two of us, plus several lunches for Fred to take to work), jambalaya (six entrees), chicken and rice casserole (all Fred has to do is put bread crumbs on top and put it in the oven. It’ll make at least four meals for us, plus some lunches for Fred), and beef taco skillet (four entrees). That’s enough food to get us through a couple of weeks, though Fred might have to cook once or twice.

Once the last batch of food was done, I put some laundry away and then headed to town for the recycling center. I stopped by the grocery store for a few things I’d forgotten earlier in the day, then got home, cleaned up the kitchen (I did so many dishes yesterday my hands may never recover), put laundry away, goofed off online, and then it was time to start dinner (chicken fajitas).

Today, I have plans that will keep me out of the house ’til about lunchtime. I have an eye appointment, need to run to Target and the pet store, Sam’s, the mall, back to the eye place to pick up the glasses I’ll pick out after my appointment (it’s a one-hour place), and then hopefully that’ll be all I need to do and can go home and relax with Kara and my babies and stop spazzing about the fact that in a few short days I’ll be sliced and diced.

You know how on South Park the Canadians have those heads where the top and bottom aren’t attached? I imagine that if something goes terribly awry and my stitches give way during a bout of post-op vomiting, I’ll be walking around with the upper half of my body detached from the bottom half. It could be funny if I fart and my lower half goes blowing (HA HA) across the room.

Fred has already received the instructions that if something goes wrong during the operation and they have to use bionic parts to make me better! stronger! faster! he should give the go-ahead. We all already know I’m totally a badass. With my bionic legs and arms I’ll just be able to prove it much more easily.

*We’re calling the 5 baby chickens that were hatched by a buff orpington the “newborns”, the ones we hatched ourselves the “toddlers”, the ones we got from the hatchery back in March the “teenagers”. And I suppose that when the other eggs currently sitting under a buff orpington hatch, we’ll probably call them the “new newborns.”

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As I mentioned up there somewhere, one of the buff orpingtons hatched five eggs last week. She’s a good mother (despite the fact that she was a dumbass for a while there, leaving the coop to eat and then going back in and sitting on the wrong nest) and keeps a protective eye on her babies. Well, unless one of us goes out with food for the chickens, in which case she runs across the yard and those babies are on their own.

Priorities, y’know.


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(pic) Giving her sister the “back off bitch, these are MY babies” look.


(pic) The other chickens seem mostly unconcerned and unimpressed with the babies.

The problem is that now that Momma Chicken has brought her babies out of the coop, she refuses to go back in. When it starts to get dark, she takes her babies under the coop. We tried to force her into the coop and were unsuccessful, so she and her babies have spent the past two nights under the coop. We don’t like it, but we’re at a loss on what to do.

Damn chickens.

(More chicken pictures over at Flickr)

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The kittens are growing so damn fast I swear I can see it happening. I want them to stop growing and be tiny forever! They’re all using the litter box (though Zoe got confused last night and had an accident on a cat bed, poor little peanut) for peeing. I have seen no poo in the litter box, but I didn’t ask Kara any questions about that. Also, hey. Did you know that kitten pee doesn’t smell at all? I swear to god, I picked up a cloth that had been peed upon by them and smelled it to see what the hell it was, and no smell at all. It’s too bad THAT goes away as they get older!

I’ve seen them all drinking water out of the water bowl at one point or the other, but they’re still not interested in the cat food. Some of them – Zoe, especially – like to get into the litter box and chew on litter. I’ll be glad when they stop THAT. We use the plain clay litter for them, and I have to completely empty and refill the litter boxes every day, because you cannot scoop that stuff. I was using the scoopable stuff for Kara’s litter box (it’s bigger, and in the closet), but now that the kittens are exploring a lot more, I don’t want them to eat the scoopable stuff, so I’ve gone to the plain clay litter for her, too.

The kittens are now at the point where they’re in control of their legs, so they zoom around the room and bounce off each other and pounce at each other (I love the way they get low and wiggle and wiggle and wiggle, and then they POUNCE, and go the amazing distance of about two inches). Saturday, all four of them piled on me (Inara up on my shoulder and the other three in my lap) and went to sleep. It was seriously sweet.

Inara, when she’s getting sleepy, will climb up so that she’s resting on my chest and she stretches her front paws out and demands that I kiss her on top of her head.

I love the holy hell out of these kittens.

I don’t have time to go through the pictures I got over the weekend – I’m about to leave for my appointment and errands – but I’ll share with you one picture I took that makes me laugh ’til I wheeze. Poor long-suffering Kara.


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(pic) Miss Momma sure does love to sit on Fred’s lap.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: And we might have expected Mommy/ Whatever to tell the Little Prince “no” and, well, we can’t have THAT.
2005: We’re foster parents.
2004: Because WHY HAD IT NOT OCCURRED TO ME TO THROW MYSELF DOWN THE MOUNTAIN TO AVOID THE CONCERT???
2003: The words “ass ugly” were invented to describe these shoes.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: She hasn’t claimed boredom since.

5/16/08

Fred sent me the link to this page a few weeks ago, and I’ve been meaning to link to it, because it makes me guffaw. Photobombers of the Day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Is it just me, or did this week just CRAWL by? I imagine time will be at a crawl until late next Tuesday, which … Continue reading “5/16/08”

Fred sent me the link to this page a few weeks ago, and I’ve been meaning to link to it, because it makes me guffaw.

Photobombers of the Day.

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Is it just me, or did this week just CRAWL by? I imagine time will be at a crawl until late next Tuesday, which is when I’m due to start freaking out about having major surgery which means that time will begin rocketing by at a too-fast pace.

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Didn’t you have a Cafe Press store at one point? The afternoon McLovin series (complete with captions) would make excellent note cards.

I actually have three of them, but there’s nothing there for now except the 2008 And3rson Kitties and Foster Kitties calendars. I’ll have to think about making McLovin cards, but I’m not sure how many people would actually be interested enough to buy them.

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If there are 2 orange kitties and 2 kitty beds why does Newt get them both and does Sugey mind?

Those beds weren’t intended to stay there forever – I washed them then put them on the dryer intending to put them wherever they were before I washed them, then the cats started laying on them and so I just left them. Newt gets them because he was there first, of course.

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Can you hear him from the house? Does it ever get annoying with him going on all day about what a stud he is?

You can generally hear McLovin from anywhere in the house. It all depends on where he’s crowing from whether it’s annoying or not. If he’s doing it from the fence post directly outside the computer room and he goes on and on and ON about it, it can get annoying. Most of the time it’s just like background noise and I tend not to notice it – unless, again, he goes on and on about it. And he DOES like to go on and on about it, except when I get the damn camera out.

Here’s some time in the life of McLovin the Man on YouTube:

Or in MPG format, here.

The parts where you can hear him crowing but it’s muted is shot through the window.

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Is the no-litter-scooping because you aren’t supposed to bend over that far while you’re healing? Because if so, I have a suggestion, not for the litter, but for picking-up whatever you might drop: garden shops and hardware stores usually have a thingie that looks like a kind of claw at the end of a long stick. You put the claw-thing on what you want to pick up, squeeze the handle, and the jaws of the claw close around your dropped sock (or whatever) and voila! you’ve got it with no bending. Works like a charm. I use mine to retrieve things from in back of the washer, to retrieve soda bottles and cans that have fallen into a deep crack in back of my storage area, and so on. It works to pick up stuff as heavy as a large can of soup, and as light as a bit of paper.

I was kidding when I said that I couldn’t scoop out the litter boxes for six months. I’m sure after a week or so (depending on how it feels to bend over and scoop them) I’ll be so incensed at Fred doing it WRONG that I’ll take back scooping duties.

I actually have one of those claw-on-a-stick things. I keep it in the garage (to help me with filling the bird feeders), but after thinking about it, it would certainly come in handy in the house!

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Ok, it’s official: Zoe’s my favorite. I love those serious stripes on her forehead. You do realize that this might send me to my local shelter sometime this summer to check out them kittens there, don’t you? Is that intentional (I hope it is!)?

and

Since so many people fell in love with Kaylee. I pick River now as my cyber kitty love. He has a face doesn’t he?

and

Is it wrong to choose a favorite? I love Zoe and Inara! LOVE THEM!

Honestly, every time I think one of them is my favorite, another one comes along and steals my heart.

I love River because he always looks so amazed by everything (and also because he’s the first one out of the teepee when I walk in the room).

I love Inara because she’s a feisty little brat and not scared of anything at all (I’ve been calling her “Chompers McGee”).

I love Zoe because she’s the littlest and sweet and cuddly, but I apparently needed protection from the camera yesterday (it turned itself off), and she didn’t hesitate to show that camera what was what.

I love Kaylee because she’s gorgeous (well, they’re all gorgeous) and reserved, but yesterday finally decided I was okay, and she climbed in my lap and stayed with me for a good long time before she ran off to play.

And I love Kara because she’s a good, caring Momma and even though the kittens are probably driving her bonkers, she’s (usually) patient with them and makes sure they have plenty to eat.

It is absolutely not wrong to pick a favorite, I understand completely.

Also, it’s not my intention to convince y’all to visit your local shelters and check out the kittens (and maybe bring one or two home), but if that’s the end result of my posting pictures and videos and stories, it’s certainly worth the effort it takes!

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Since as a SAHD, I sit around eating bon bons, watching Oprah, smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo, I find myself reading the odd “PREVIOUSLY” entries. One of the ones from yesterday led me to a description of a visit to a petting zoo. You made the comment that you made Fred promise if you ever have land he would get you Pygmy Goats. Welllllllllllllllllllllll? Where are they to be found on Crooked Acres?

Hush up, shit stirrer. You’ll note that I said:

I said to Fred “Someday, if we have a house on enough land, promise me we’ll get some pygmy goats!” He wouldn’t, though, damn him.

See? Fred wouldn’t agree. I would certainly never suggest that he change his mind, so no goats for us!

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Did Kara hurt Mr Boogers Eye?

No, Mister Boogers has allergies in the Spring (and Fall), and tends to have a goopy left eye for a couple of months each year. Dosing him with Chlorpheneramine (which we buy over the counter) usually helps, but we’re not great with dosing him regularly, and tend not to unless his eye looks particularly bad.

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Wow That’s a quick date for the surgery. How long is the recovery supposed to be? *ouch*

The surgeon said it’ll be about a month before I wake up in the morning and feel completely normal. What I’ve read online says that I should be able to resume normal activities after about two weeks. We’ll see!

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I used to do a vinegar rinse in the laundry all the time till I got a new HE washer. The directions say to ONLY use fabric softener (or nothing) in the dispenser and it scared me out of using vinegar (which is corrosive) anymore. Do you think it would be alright anyway?

I’d recommend you try calling the manufacturer’s customer support line and ask them. I’d hate to tell you to go ahead and do it only to have your washer die on you!

You read this all the time but, DEAR GOD, those kittens are so damnedably cute. Which one is Nance getting?

I think Nance is refusing to come visit again ’til all the kittens are gone. I think she should take Inara, personally, but I don’t think she’ll go for it after adopting the evil Maddy.

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I am hesitant to ask this because I have the exact same thing going on at my own blog, but I’m going to ask anyway. You probably have some genius readers (or husband) who can tweak it right up for you without killing your whole site for a week like I did mine the last time I tried to “fix” anything. So, here goes:

Is there a way to make your … masthead, logo thingie up there, clickable so it goes to the “main” (i.e. current) page? I was browsing your past years and got sort of stuck in a 2007 time warp. I had to – horrors! – click on my bookmark to get back here. I looked for a “home” or “main” button, but if there is one I missed it. I kept clicking on the piggie in the unreasonable hope that if I clicked enough times it’d take me back to the main/today’s page. (I considered using my back button but that’s entirely too sensible. Can’t be having with the sensibleness, now.)

I actually fiddled around with this after I read your comment last week. You’d think it’d just be a matter of putting an html tag around the image tag, but I tried it and it didn’t work worth a shit.

I’m thinking it would be easier to just add a “home” link at the tops and/ or bottoms of the entries, but I don’t know how to do that, either.

::shrug::

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You may have thought of this, or are doing this and I’m not aware, but have you ever thought of printing some of your awesome photos of the fosters you take in and maybe putting them in a little inexpensive photo album to let the shelter folks give to the people who end up adopting the kitties? You could even write something about what the kitties like to do, their “history” at your house, etc.

I think if I were going to make a decision about adopting a cat, a little something special like that would make me feel like I knew the cat a little better, and that it had definitely been cared for. Plus, especially with the baby kitties, since they change so much, it’s just really cool to see the transformation.

and

I just had what may be a goofy idea just pop into my head while looking at the (per usual) heart achingly sweet pictures of the kitties. When it is time for each cat/kitten to go to the shelter, it would be kind of cool to make up a little baby book (including your captioning) to take with each one which would guarantee melt the hearts of whomever is looking. Especially for the ones who may be taking too long to be adopted. I know it would work for me if I was the one looking. 😮 You could print out a few pictures on paper and punch a hole and use a ribbon or something to tie it onto the cage so people could look through them. Just a thought.

I’d probably be more likely to burn the pictures to a disc so their new owners can have their baby pictures than to put together a picture album – I don’t really have the patience to go through all the pictures, print them out, and put them in an album. Little kittens get adopted pretty quickly, but seeing as HG still hasn’t been adopted (DAMNIT), maybe I’ll put something together for him that shows off his personality.

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have you ever read animal farm by george orwell?

I have not. Should I?

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It’s hilarious that you have the patience to take 70,000 pictures of the bebbe kitteh’s every day (to get the perfect pictures of them yawning/fighting/open mouthed), yet zero patience when it comes to in-animate objects that malfunction. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone markets to this very urge we all have when frustrated.

Malfunctioning inanimate objects just piss me off IMMEDIATELY. I’ve got a hairtrigger temper when it comes to the computer – or really, anything electronic – not working the way it should. All I want is shit to WORK the way it’s supposed to, why is that such a fucking PROBLEM?

Kittens won’t use the litter box? Sit and gnaw on my hand? Won’t yawn when I’m pointing the camera at them? I’ve got infinite patience for THAT!

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Say, just how did you dispose of that dead grackle? Inquiring minds want to know.

This is from my husband, the shit-stirrer, who thinks that you will all stop loving me if I tell you that I tossed that dead grackle into the pig yard and didn’t look back. What? It’s DEAD. (PS: The grackle was gone later when Fred looked.)

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All the babies are now using the litter box, hooray! They’re not pooping in it, but I’m sure that’ll happen soon enough. They’re exploring the room a lot more now, sniffing at the bowls of water and showing no interest in food at all. That’s okay – just like your average kid doesn’t go off to college still in diapers, your average kitten figures out that whole eating-food thing when his or her Momma decides it’s time to stop being quite so free and easy with the milk. They’re still little, they’ll get it sooner or later.

I weighed the kittens last night. Inara (whose other nickname is “Porky McGee”, since she outweighs the other kittens by at least an ounce, which is a lot when you weigh less than two pounds.) continues to lead the pack at 1 lb 7 ounces, and Zoe (“Peanut McGee”) is still the littlest at 1 pound 4 ounces. River (“Goofy McGee”) and Kaylee (“Badger McGee”) are spaced respectably in between the other two.


(pic) Kaylee is the sleepiest of the four. Always ready for a nap, always last out of the teepee. In between, she races around like her butt’s on fire.

I don’t know what was going on in the kitten room yesterday, but apparently it was pretty amazing.


(pic) “You did WHAT?!?!”


(pic) “She did WHAT?!?!”


(pic) “NO WAY!”

We took the kittens’ 4-week pictures last night.

See River’s progression pictures here.
See Inara’s progression pictures here.
See Kaylee’s progression pictures here.
See Zoe’s progression pictures here.

Buttloads of cute kitten pics over at Flickr.

Also, a video demonstrating why I call Kara the Queen of Clean.

And you can watch it in MPG format, here.

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(pic) “You rang?”

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Previously
2007: They’d surely have fabulous gay parties and invite their fabulous gay friends and give my inner Mrs. Kravitz something to spy on.
2006: I’m READY FOR SUMMER, THANK YOU.
2005: I like cats. They’re good to eat.
2004: No entry.
2003: We’re some calendar-loving motherfuckers, that’s right.
2002: Kitty meeting.
2001: So… I guess we could probably sell your shithole…
2000: It sounds like there’s a lot to do in Gatlinburg, so it should be fun.

5/15/08

Crooked Acres, 7:13 am: ::coughcoughcough:: ::throatclearing:: “I AM THE MAN!” “THE MAN!” “THE! MAN!” “THE MAN! IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING! THANK YOU AND HAVE A GOOD DAY!” (Above scene repeats 130 times during the next eight hours.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Crooked Acres, 4:48 pm: “AHEM.” “I am…” “.. the man.” “Hmmm….” ::thinking:: ::considering:: ::blinking whilst … Continue reading “5/15/08”

Crooked Acres, 7:13 am:


::coughcoughcough:: ::throatclearing::


“I AM THE MAN!”


“THE MAN!”


“THE! MAN!”


“THE MAN! IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING! THANK YOU AND HAVE A GOOD DAY!”

(Above scene repeats 130 times during the next eight hours.)

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Crooked Acres, 4:48 pm:


“AHEM.”


“I am…”


“.. the man.”


“Hmmm….”


::thinking::


::considering::


::blinking whilst pondering::


“Yes, that’s correct. I AM the man.”


“The man.”


“The man!”


“THE. MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”


“THE MOTHERFUCKING MAN! YES, ME!”


“And to drive my point home, let me raise my neck feathers in an umbrella-like fashion as I reiterate to you: I AM THE MAN!!!”


“Got it?”

(Scene repeats itself every three minutes until it gets dark out, whereupon McLovin’ is of the opinion that the world is aware of his studly manliness, and retires with his bitchez to the chicken coop to rest up.)

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River and Inara are such the little hellions these days. They love to take turns climbing into my lap, and then they kick and bite and scratch at me, and then if I make them stop biting, they give me the big blue eyes and are all “Ah am jest a little bitty baby kitten and ah could not hurt a fly, le WAH!” and meow sadly at me.

BRATS.


(pic) “Momma! Pay attention to ME!”


(pic) Fight!


(pic) “Do you SEE what I have to put up with?!”

Tons of kitten pictures up over at Flickr.

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(pic) “Attention passengers, would all orange kittehs please report to the Lido Deck for fun and games!”

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Previously
2007: Random pictures.
2006: Mystery solved, I guess.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: So far, I believe she’s ahead in the fart wars.
2002: That damn PTA. I will NOT be suckered in again by them, damnit!
2001: Realtors.
2000: New eyes, new hair – I’ll practically be a whole new woman!

5/14/08

I had blood drawn yesterday so that they could do all the usual preop lab work before I have surgery next week and I don’t believe I’ve ever had so much blood drawn at one time, I was wondering if they were just going to completely drain me to make the surgery a bit less … Continue reading “5/14/08”

I had blood drawn yesterday so that they could do all the usual preop lab work before I have surgery next week and I don’t believe I’ve ever had so much blood drawn at one time, I was wondering if they were just going to completely drain me to make the surgery a bit less messy.

This afternoon I have my preop appointment with the surgeon, and then it’s time to spend the next week alternating between twiddling my thumbs and racing around in a panic to get everything done beforehand. Everything = cleaning the house, making meals ahead that only need to be warmed up, and… well, that’s about it, I guess.

An interesting note is that although the surgeon told me it takes about a month after surgery before patients wake up and roll out of bed feeling completely normal again, it would take six months to a year before I could scoop litter boxes. So no scooping for me for at least six months, that’ll be Fred’s job! No really, he said that! True story!

(I wonder if I could get that in writing?)

You guys are smart motherfuckers who know a lot about a lot. I need a dress that buttons or zips up the front to wear home from the hospital. Go find me one. All suggestions appreciated!

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Miss Momma (aka “Maxi”) went missing for almost an entire day. She didn’t come home and didn’t come home and Fred went down to ask the neighbor if she’d seen her, and she hadn’t, and we called and called and got all kinds of worried, and then around dinnertime the neighbor’s kids brought her home and said she’d been hanging out over at the (empty) house next door to them.

Brat.

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I think I’ve mentioned that we have a couple of chickens who’ve “gone broody” and were spending all their time sitting on eggs. We had to be careful and keep an eye on them to make sure they were sitting on the right nests (one of them got out of her nest, went to eat, and came back to the wrong nest several times, meaning we (Fred) had to move her back to the right one). A few days ago, Fred went out and candled the eggs to see if they were all fertile and to see how far along they were. He predicted that the dumb one (who got back on the wrong nest several times) would be hatching her eggs this week. Last night, he reported that they’d started hatching. We went out together to take a look, but every time we open the flap, the hen puffs up and looks scary.

Well, she TRIES to look scary. Mostly, to me, she looks scared so we left her alone.

We know there’s at least one hatched baby under her. I’ll be curious to see how many hatch okay, and how that works out.

14DSC07930
(flickr)

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The land next to our back forty is owned by a family that has a bunch of horses. I don’t know exactly how much land they have, but it’s enough to support six horses or more. Every now and then when Fred and I take a walk around the back forty, we hear horses. The other night when Fred was out there himself, a white horse came over to be petted (and to see if Fred had any food, I’m sure).

Last night I got some pictures of a couple of them.

They certainly are pretty. Too bad I’m not a horse person – or not, I’m not sure we have the room for a horse in the back forty. I’d like to see Mister Boogers riding a horse around, though.

14DSC07955
(flickr)

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After using up the tape in the camcorder, I went through all the footage and cobbled it all together and made a way-too-long movie that clocks in at 7 minutes long.

Sorry about that.

I’ll try, in the future, to go through the footage a little more often and make shorter movies.

In the meantime, you can see the movie at YouTube:

or watch it in MPG format, here.

(I used Muvee AutoProducer for this one, which came free with my computer. It’s pretty simple to use, I’m pretty sure I’ll be using that from here on out. It’s made for the dummies like me who can’t deal with anything too complicated.)

Also, I’m sorry about the incessant babbling and baby talk. I thought about adding music to the video, but I wanted you to be able to hear the babies and Kara “talking”.

Kara and the babies are continuing to kill me with the cute. I witnessed River using the litter box last night and when I made a fuss over him (“Look, Momma! He use the litter box!”), all the cats looked at me like they just might be getting tired of the incessant baby talk.

I cannot help it.

All the kittens are sniffing around the cat food when Kara eats. Inara’s very interested in the bowl of water and though she hasn’t quite hit the point where she’s drinking it, she is sniffing at it, getting her nose in it, then licking the water off.

These babies are just growing up way too fast. I want them to stay itty bitty forever, but they’re already HUGE compared to three weeks ago.

14DSC07882
(flickr)

14DSC07928
(flickr) “Where my Momma? I’m STARVIN’!”

14DSC07900
(flickr) “HI Momma. I’m your favorite, right? You love me most?”
“That’s right. I love you most of all, little whatsyerface.”

Tons of kitten pics up over at Flickr.

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14DSC08994
(flickr) “That Momma cat did NOT kick my ass. I let her THINK she was kicking my ass because sometimes after wimmins has babies, they get to thinking ‘I used to be a badass. Am I still a badass, or did having them babies weaken me?’ and I wanted to reassure her that she was still a badass. So I went into the room and I was all ‘Kick my ass!’, and then I rolled around and pretended to scream and let her think she was kicking my ass. But really, I was having a GOOD TIME pretending to be scared. Did you hear me screaming ‘OhmylordjesuspleasedonthurtmeowowowowowOW!’? That was all acting. I’m a very good actor. Tom Cruise calls me all the time for acting hints. I tells him ‘Tom, you just get into the scene and let your heart lead the way. If your heart ain’t feelin’ it, you let the hetred lead the way. The hetred will never steer you wrong.’ It’s true!”

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Previously
2007: Ugly, but somehow oddly appealing to me.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Memeriffic.
2003: “One of the cats brought in a baby possum and it appears to be dying.”
2002: A mother can dream, can’t she?
2001: I almost shot a red bean out of my nose, I was laughing so hard.
2000: No entry.

5/13/08

This is SO cool. You know those days when you can’t get to a site and you’re all “WTF? Is it the site or the damn internet or ME?!”? Carrie sent me the link to this site: Down for everyone or just me? Bookmark it, y’all! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   My plastic surgeon’s office called yesterday morning … Continue reading “5/13/08”

This is SO cool. You know those days when you can’t get to a site and you’re all “WTF? Is it the site or the damn internet or ME?!”? Carrie sent me the link to this site:

Down for everyone or just me?

Bookmark it, y’all!

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My plastic surgeon’s office called yesterday morning and gave me the good news – my whiny, heartfelt letter (or more likely better pictures of the loose skin on my abdomen) swayed someone at my insurance company and they approved me for surgery. My insurance company is paying for the panniculectomy part of the surgery and we’re paying for the remainder of the surgery – the “circumferential lower body lift and abdominoplasty”, also known as a lower body lift.

“When were you wanting to have it done?” she asked.

“The sooner the better!” I said.

Turned out someone had JUST canceled for next week. Next Thursday, to be exact. And now it’s mine!

I have to go have some bloodwork later today, then I have a preop appointment tomorrow, and then it’s just waitin’ time ’til next Thursday morning.

I am excited as hell, though I’m sure that come Thursday morning I’ll be nervous as hell.

GOODBYE LOOSE STOMACH SKIN! Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!

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I had to get groceries yesterday because I didn’t go Sunday ’cause (1) I didn’t wanna and (2) there was nothing we desperately needed right away. So before I left, I gave Kara her morning snack and then had to refill the water bowls. Every damn time I cracked the foster kitty room to look into the hallway, Mister Boogers was far too close to the door for my comfort, so I’d shoot the air at him and he’d run off.

I had the last bowl of water in my hand and was going into the foster kitty room when Mister Boogers ran up from out of nowhere, blew past me, and sauntered into the foster kitty room saying “Hey, bitches. Let me TELL YOU who the man is!”

Here’s a hint: Mister Boogers? Not the man. He got his ass kicked six ways to Sunday. Kara was on him immediately, and she flung his ass around the room. He was screaming, she was screaming, I tossed the bowl of water in the air and started screaming. I yelled “No! No! NOOO!” at the top of my lungs (why do I bother? It never works!), waded into the fray, and grabbed Kara. Once she stopped kicking his ass, Mister Boogers FLEW out the door, and I was able to get the door shut.

The kittens were TERRIFIED. Two of them flew into their teepee and hid at the very back. The other two were on the side of the teepee and just sat there, frozen. Once the door was shut, I soothed Kara (who basically said “That’s what I THOUGHT you’d say, you gray fucker! I bet you won’t be sniffing under the door again ANY TIME SOON!” and went back to eating.) and then picked each kitten up and petted him/ her until they stopped shaking.

Poor babies.

13DSC07600
(flickr) The Booger fur left behind.

Once I was sure Kara and the babies were fine (the kittens, once soothed, went over to the amazing amount of gray Booger hair left behind in the fracas and sniffed at it), I went and found Mister Boogers, who was flopped at the bottom of the stairs, cleaning himself. He was perfectly fine, didn’t look the least disturbed, but I’ll note that I didn’t see him upstairs again the entire day.

Since everyone was safe and soothed, I left for the grocery store.

When I got back, I was walking toward the side stoop carrying three very heavy bags of groceries, and as I got to the stairs, a grackle ran out from under the stairs, through the fence, into the back yard. He couldn’t seem to take flight, so I went inside, set my groceries down, and headed for the back door with the intention of shooing him back out of the yard. I opened the back door, started down the back steps, and then Joe Bob flew across the yard and snatched that bird up. I ran over and tried to get Joe Bob to let the bird go, but the bird appeared to be dead already, so I went back inside and shut the door. I don’t care for dead birds in the house, personally.

For the next hour, Joe Bob, Tommy, and Newt sniffed at and played with the (clearly dead) bird. When I looked out the window and saw Joe Bob toss the bird up into the air and then smack at it a few times, I decided they’d had plenty of fun with it, weren’t going to eat it (why would they? They had two full bowls of cat food inside!) and it needed to leave my back yard so I didn’t have to look at it anymore.

When I went out back, Joe Bob picked the bird up and ran across the lawn, but then he was distracted by something and abandoned the bird, so I picked it up (by the leg, with a paper towel) and disposed of it.

I had no idea, when Fred brought Joe Bob home back in January, that he was going to turn out to be such a hunter!

Damn him.

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Kara and the kittens continue to do well. Inara has used the litter box several times. I haven’t seen anyone else use the litter box, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t, just that they didn’t put on a show for me. River and Kaylee like to get into the litter box and eat the litter, I don’t know why that is. I thought maybe it meant that they were ready to eat cat food, but when I put them in front of the dish of food, they look up at me like “Your point is…?” and wander off.

I did see Kaylee sniff the bowl of water, then lick the water off her nose and then sniff and lick again, so maybe she’s getting ready to try cat food. Who knows?

They’re growing up too fast! I want them to stay little forever!

Now when I go into the foster kitty room and sit down, River comes out of the teepee and climbs up into my lap and lets me pet him. Inara and Zoe eventually make their way over to me, as well. I sit Indian style (or whatever the politically correct term is these days), and they like to slide down into my lap and be petted and kick and bite at me. Yesterday, after a rousing game of kick-and-bite, Inara fell asleep laying on her back. These kittens are way too damn cute.

13DSC07734
(flickr) ::urrrrrrp:: "Oh, ‘scuse me!" ::giggle::

13DSC07716
(flickr) I YAM SCARY!”

13DSC07604
(flickr) Cat. She’s a kittycat. And she dancedancedance and she dancedancedance.

TONS of cute kitten pics up over at Flickr.

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13DSC00022
(flickr) The mighty hunter.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Oh, it’s FUN to be a girl, ain’t it?
2004: Am I not stylin’?
2003: Like I repeatedly said to him yesterday, “I’m GLAD you’re ENJOYING my pain!”
2002: Momma don’t do food-related or cleaning-related stuff on Mother’s Day!
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

5/12/08

Survivor spoilers in this section; skip to the next if you didn’t see the season finale! I really really really really am shocked and amazed that Parvati won; I think Amanda should have, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when we saw that Parvati won. I thought she’d get MAYBE two … Continue reading “5/12/08”

Survivor spoilers in this section; skip to the next if you didn’t see the season finale!

I really really really really am shocked and amazed that Parvati won; I think Amanda should have, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when we saw that Parvati won. I thought she’d get MAYBE two votes, but I expected Amanda to totally sweep the votes. I haven’t watched the reunion show yet, I’m going to watch it later this morning, but I’ll be interested to see who voted for who, and maybe why.

It’s possible that Amanda’s crying at the last tribal council turned some jury members off. We had to fast forward through Amanda sobbing about how she didn’t know whether to take Cirie or Parvati with her, because JESUS CHRIST, PEOPLE. Get some perspective. It’s not like you’re voting these people off to be executed! They’re gonna LIVE, they’re just not going to be millionaires!

I absolutely cringed through Ozzy’s speech, because was he not saying that Parvati should have played the game except when it came to HIM? And the whole declaration of his feelings for Amanda bit, ugh. Sweet, but there are better times and places for that.

This season was absolutely the best season since I can remember, I’m sad it’s over!

Eliza is the most annoying Survivor on earth. God, I can’t stand her. She and Jonny Fairplay need to go off and have annoying babies together.

I told Fred last night that the dream final three would have been Yau-Man, James, and Ozzy. We wouldn’t have known who to root for!

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I have read you for many years, but I was in a car accident recently, and being able to read my favorite blogs went by the wayside. I have gone back through to read the posts I missed, but I have yet to see where you said Spud is. I don’t get to read about her anymore, so I assume she is in college, or off living her own life. But why don’t you mention her very often anymore?

The spud left for Rhode Island last July to live with her father and stepmother, and eventually attend college. I saw her at Christmas when I went to Maine – my mother, sister and I drove down to Rhode Island to spend the day with her. My original plan was to fly into Rhode Island, spend a couple of days with her, then drive to Maine, but due to the weather, that didn’t work out.

I don’t mention her very often anymore because in the past when I’ve mentioned her, it’s been in the context of my day-to-day life and interactions with her. Since she’s living in Rhode Island, my day-to-day interactions with her tend to be limited to the phone, text messages, and emails. Also, I think she deserves her privacy.

She’s getting ready to attend college in the Fall, has a serious boyfriend who’s in the military (and seems like a good guy), and has a job. That’s how and where the spud is. Rest assured that if anything big happens in her life, I’ll mention it.

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I had a really good weekend. Saturday, I got up and at ’em early with the intention of cleaning the house from top to bottom INCLUDING the bathrooms (which I usually avoid like the plague), and I was actually done with that by noon. It usually takes until early- to mid-afternoon, so I’m not sure why it went so quickly this time around. I even dusted the entire house!

The afternoon, I spent paying bills, balancing the checkbook, spending time with Kara and the babies, and just generally puttering around. It was a really good day, one of those days when I didn’t really do a lot, but accomplished everything I needed to, getting all those small, annoying tasks I’d been putting off done and over with.

We were supposed to get bad storms Saturday night. We got thunder and lightning and rain around 11ish, and Fred came downstairs at some point to check the online local news site to see what the weather was, but I was asleep by the time he came back upstairs. Thunder and lightning generally doesn’t keep me awake. We got a little rain, but nothing too terribly bad, and Sunday dawned fairly sunny and a little cool and all the trees were still standing, which is all we really ask for, most days.

Sunday, I intended to sleep in, but Mister Boogers had other ideas and started knocking stuff off my bedside table and dresser around 6:30. I ignored him for about 45 minutes, but finally gave up and got out of bed and told him he was an asshole (which he already knew). I got laundry started and then got to spend an hour wrestling with my computer. The black and white laser printer we’ve had FOREVER, and which is attached to my computer (rather than the color printer/ scanner, which is attached to Fred’s computer because he hardly ever prints anything out) is ancient and I had to get some special adapter cord to attach it to my new computer. Sometimes it prints shit out, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes if I reboot and then immediately try to print something out, it works. Other times, I reboot and immediately try to print something out, and the computer and printer decide they don’t like each other.

SO ANNOYING. I print shit out CONSTANTLY.

So we ordered some other something from New Egg (don’t ask me what the fuck it is, I neither know nor care) and then I told Fred I’d just use his printer until the whatever-it-is comes later this week, and I hooked up his printer to my computer, and then we spent forfuckingever getting the goddamn printer set up because of GODDAMN VISTA.

Anyway, now I can print shit out except that NATURALLY the ink level is low, so everything prints out too light and it annoys the shit out of me, so mental note: go to Staples and buy more goddamn ink, alrighty?

And then I hung laundry out to dry (very good clothes-drying day yesterday – coolish but very very windy, which made the clothes dry in about ten seconds flat) and did other shit that has slipped my mind, then I visited Kara and her babies and then lay in bed and read for a little while, then I was in the shower when Fred knocked on the door and asked if I wanted breakfast, and he made me French toast and sausage for breakfast under orders from Mister Boogers, who would have made me breakfast himself except that he has problems controlling the spatula what with the lack of opposable thumbs.

Breakfast = very good. Then I went out to the garage and did what I’d been putting off, which was breaking down the 3,000 cardboard boxes that have been piling up, so I could cart them to the recycling center, which I did in two trips.

Home again, I spent more time with Kara and the babies, read some more, cleaned the kitchen, ate lunch, then had a hissy fit when my mouse decided to stop working. I unplugged my mouse and keyboard (they’re wireless) and threw them across the room (HIGHLY satisfying) and stormed out to the garage to get the mouse and keyboard that had come with my computer and hooked them up and they worked just fine.

And… that was my weekend!

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I asked Fred to put Kara and her babies in a carrier for me Friday night, because the cat hair had been building up on the carpet since I’d vacuumed the week before, so he did that, and I started vacuuming, and then I discovered that a little towel I’d left on the floor next to the padded teepee where the kittens have been sleeping was wet. I sniffed it (shut UP, how else am I going to know what it was wet from?), and it didn’t smell like anything at all, actually. I brought it downstairs and made Fred smell it, and he suggested that maybe bitty kitty pee doesn’t smell like regular cat pee, which is entirely possible, who the fuck knows? So I finished vacuuming and put more little towels down just in case the kittens were peeing, and kept in mind that I needed to buy some plain clay cat litter on Saturday.

Fred had to run some errands on Saturday, so he picked up plain clay cat litter for me, and I set up a couple of small litter boxes on either side of the teepee. The kittens took turns climbing into the litter boxes, and I took their little paws and moved them through the litter in a scratching motion, and then they looked at me like I was torturing them and cried, and climbed out and ran around and played.

A few hours later I happened to be in the room when Inara climbed into one litter box, scratched around, cried plaintively, climbed back out, went to the other litter box, scratched around, peed, and climbed back out.

CLEARLY A GENIUS.

She’s not using it every time, but I did see her use it a second time, on Sunday. I think those babies are certainly on their way to being litterbox trained. If I could just get them to stop trying to eat the litter, I’d be a little happier, though. They’re completely uninterested in regular kitten food, but considering that they’ve got warm milk on tap just about whenever they want it, can’t say as I blame them.

(Kittens tend to try to eat the litter at first, which is why you can’t litterbox train them with the clumping stuff. Plain clay litter won’t hurt them, but apparently the clumping stuff causes all manners of bad things to happen. Or so I’ve heard.)


(pic)


(pic)


(pic)


(pic) “Okay, lady, I do like the belly rub. But be careful. I don’t like when it tickles.”


(pic) “You unnerstand? Okay, good. Let the rubbing begin.”


(pic) ::giggle::


(pic) “::giggle:: Stop! Stop! No, don’t stop! Stop! No, don’t! It TICKLES!”

Ton o’ kitten pics over at Flickr.

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(pic) “Hellew.”

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: Where the hell did the year GO?
2005: If my nose is cold, the rest of me is cold.
2004: I guess this is what we get for living in the Bible Belt, isn’t it?
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Ah well. Maybe next life.

5/9/08

Survivor spoilers; skip to the next section if you haven’t seen last night’s episode yet! This is the fucking BEST SEASON EVER. Those women have played the FUCK out of those men, and I cannot believe that boy was SO DUMB as to give up that idol. OH MY GOD. I can’t remember the last … Continue reading “5/9/08”

Survivor spoilers; skip to the next section if you haven’t seen last night’s episode yet!

This is the fucking BEST SEASON EVER. Those women have played the FUCK out of those men, and I cannot believe that boy was SO DUMB as to give up that idol. OH MY GOD. I can’t remember the last time every episode has had me on the edge of my seat like this. Those men are SO GODDAMN DUMB, it’s totally the season of dumbass men.

There have – if I recall correctly – been seasons where the final four were all women. Right? Definitely there’s been at least an all-female final three, it’s all kind of a blur. This is the first time I feel like every one of those women absolutely deserves to be there. None of them slid into it or rode coattails, they all schemed and manipulated and played the game to DEATH. Even Natalie, with convincing him to give her the idol.

I hope like hell that Amanda can get her ass into the final three, because if she can then I don’t think anyone has any chance against her. I think they all know that Amanda’s going to end up winning if she gets to the final three, too.

This has been the best season in a long, long time. I can’t wait ’til Sunday!!!

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What’s up with the pigs nose? It looks totally clogged with goo. I don’t know anything about pigs, but it looks like it can’t breathe!

06DSC06716

Nope, it’s not clogged. There’s some mud around the edge of his nostrils, but other than that it’s just… nostril. He can breathe just fine! (See here for the larger version)

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Aren’t those pretty yellow flower weeds a field of canola?

and

I do believe that those flowers are feverfew. It supposedly cures just about everything – try it on your favorite ailment and see if it works! 🙂 Even if it doesn’t cure world hunger, the flowers are lovely, aren’t they?

06DSC09948

I haven’t got a clue what the yellow flowers are, but they certainly are pretty!

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I’m back just to say – it’s been hanging out in the back of my brain all day . . . Moldy strawberries? Man – Could you imagine all the food that would not go to waste if we human or even cats and dogs could really “Eat like a pig”? Or – the amount of food poisoning we would not have to endure? Once again, another saying that is a lie…

I should add here that the pigs weren’t terribly crazy about the strawberries, moldy or not. Which surprised the hell out of me – they like sweet stuff, I thought for sure they’d like strawberries (mold or not)! They did eventually eat the strawberries but it was in a grudging way, kind of like “Well since there’s nothing ELSE…” Spoiled brats.

I tell you what, ever since we got those pigs, NOTHING has gone to waste. I used to have to empty the compost bucket every couple of days, but now I only have to do it once a week, and that’s only because it starts to smell if I don’t. We’re pretty much only composting coffee grounds and onion peels (our pigs don’t like onions); the pigs and chickens eat everything else!

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Vinegar for fabric softener? Tell me more…….. Do you put it in at rinse? Can you put it in the dispenser. Are your clothes really soft? How is it better than Downey (besides being cheaper)? How much do you use?

I use a cup of vinegar, and I put it in the dispenser when I start the wash. A cup just fills up the dispenser, so I don’t have to even measure it. It makes my clothes just as soft as fabric softener does (though keep in mind that I hang my clothes out to dry, so they’re not as soft as they’d be in the dryer), it doesn’t leave the fabric softener smell behind, it’s cheaper, and it’s better for the environment!

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Hi Robyn – Your mention of Paula’s Gooey Butter Cake reminded me of this.

Does Steve Carell look like the NICEST guy on earth, or what? I watched that entire video and just grinned like a goon the entire time.

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Did you happen to notice that in the pic of the apron, you kind of look like you are balancing the pot on your head? It looked that way when I just glanced quickly at the screen and I had to laugh.

I actually did NOT notice that until you guys started commenting about it. Rest assured, I am NOT balancing that pot on my head and I don’t think I could if I wanted to. That sucker is HEAVY. It’s the best pot on earth, though – I use it all the time.

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I may have mentioned this before, but Fred seriously needs to get a t-post driver so we don’t have to read about “The sledgehammer incident of aught eight”. You should be able to find one at any farm supply type place.

I think you did mention it before, because I remember saying something to Fred and him making noises about getting a t-post driver and then we both immediately forgot about it completely.

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I swear, if there is ANYTHING on earth more precious than kittens (and puppies) I don’t know what it could be. LOVE the kitten photos, brings back so many happy memories of the kittens I’ve raised. They definitely DO recognize you, early on. I bottle-fed one kitten, which as at times a chore, but she was adorable and it was a fun experience. The only trouble I had was getting her to learn to eat FOOD; she just wouldn’t do it, even when I’d dip her little face in liquid, soft cat food. She wouldn’t even drink cream. Finally I put her with my other cats (she was the only suviving kitten of several) and after observing them eat, lo and behold, she started eating! Ha!

This reminds of when I had Maddy and she would NOT eat canned food, no matter how much I tried to get her to try it. She was NOT interested, I would put it front of her face and she would sniff it and walk away, I’d pile it up on the plate and show it to her, NOT interested, I would smear a little in her mouth, she’d swallow it and still? NOT INTERESTED. And then one evening I was trying it for the millionth time, and suddenly it was all she wanted on earth. She just didn’t want to start eating food until SHE wanted to and once she decided she was ready, there was no problem. Brat.

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You mentioned putting the cat food outside … do you have any problems with raccoons or possums or (gulp) skunks? We have had them actually coming inside our house through the pet door – which, by the way is nowhere near the cat food. They have to come all the way down an “L” shaped hallway and through the dining room to get to the cat food in the kitchen. It is definitely creepy to know they’re in the house at night … I get up pretty early, and more than once I have seen a raccoon (or maybe a possum, but I am in denial on that one) at the catfood dispenser. Ugh, they’re so unconcerned by humans, they just kind of saunter out of the room, almost giving me a dirty look over their shoulders.

I haven’t seen any raccoons or seen or smelled any skunks, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there! We lock up the house at dark, make all the cats (except Maxi and Newt) stay inside, and don’t leave the cat door open, so if they’re out there they can’t get in. At the other house we never had any issues with raccoons or skunks, but we did leave the cat door open at night, so once a strange cat came inside (and got his ass kicked by Tubby), and we had a couple of baby possums brought into the house by our cats, too. I believe that’s why we started shutting the cat door at night!

I was also wondering about whether you have had any problems with raccoons (or other predators) around the chickens?

This is another case where I’ve never seen raccoons or any other predators around the chickens, but we lock them up at night, and I don’t believe there’s an animal out there who could get into the chicken coops. Those things are like Fort Knox!

No more open pet door at night at our house, so now we are in the market for a self-cleaning litter box. Any suggestions on that front are welcome, as well.

I liked the Litter Robot at first, but after we’d had it about 6 months, it started not working all the time, then at 9 months the globe cracked and I decided I’d go back to scooping them by hand (which I’d been doing anyway, because not all the cats would use the Litter Robot) and that’s what I’ve been doing ever since!

Readers, self-cleaning litterbox suggestions?

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Ok, maybe this is a totally stupid and ridiculous question but I don’t know nothin’ about birthin’ no kittehs. Do the kittehs always use the same nipple to nurse? Do they line up in the same order? Or do they line up by who gets there first? Is there a nipple pecking order? Or … just random? HEY. I’m a CITY KID.

Oddly enough, I thought it was just a random thing, that they grabbed whatever nipple was closest and free, but once I started paying attention, I realized that they do seem to each have their own nipple. Inara and Zoe are on either end, River’s in the middle, and Kaylee’s is located right underneath River’s, which makes it interesting. If you notice the pictures where all four of them are nursing, you’ll never see Kaylee’s head, just her feet sticking out from underneath River. I don’t think they always use the same nipples every single time, but they do seem to gravitate toward “their” nipple.


(pic)

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Just out of curiosity, does Kara carry the kittens around by the scruff of their necks at all?

No, I haven’t seen her do that at all. When they were very little, they didn’t leave the box at all – or hardly at all – and now that they’re big enough to explore the room, she keeps an eye on them, but they always come back to the box and to Momma, especially when she calls them.

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It will be interesting to see who is pissed off with Fred. Someone not getting enough attention because Fred spends all his time outside playing instead of sitting and cuddling. I hope you figure out the culprit and stop him or her. I had a cat that did it and no matter what I did, I could not stop him from peeing on my bed.

I think the issue with the cat peeing on the bed could be as simple as the fact that the mattress on Fred’s bed was the one that Tubby peed on years ago toward the end of his life. I think there would be no peeing on the bed if we replaced the mattress, but Fred doesn’t want to – the cat pee smell isn’t noticeable to the human nose, just the feline nose, apparently!

I’ll tell you what – if anyone ever pees on MY bed, they’re all going to become outdoor cats IMMEDIATELY. Fuckers.

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I just found out that you guys missed a major holiday! Apparently May 4th was “International Respect For Chickens Day” (http://www.upc-online.org/) I realize it’s a crunchy granola vegan holiday, but there’s no one I’ve ever known that respected their chickens more!

We definitely respect our chickens. Speaking of chickens, we have one chicken that’s gone broody. She’s currently sitting on a nest of five (I think) eggs. More days than not, she leaves her nest of eggs to get something to eat and drink, comes back to find another chicken in her nest (that’s a favorite nest for laying, apparently) and gets in another nest. The chicken in the nest with the eggs lays her egg (we’ve marked the eggs that have been there for a while so we know which ones are fresh) and wanders off, leaving behind a nest of eggs. And the broody chicken just stays where she is.

We tried separating her off – Fred made her a nest in a clean litter box, put the whole thing in the little coop with the little chickens, and that goddamn chicken would have nothing to do with those eggs ’til Fred put them back in the big coop. I don’t have high hopes for these eggs ever hatching.

Chickens are not known for their intelligence, I suppose.

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De-lurking to say I did the cat/bird in the house thing only it was with a dog and live rabbit which escaped at one point. I’ve learned to #1 – if dog is carrying a rabbit do not go out and try to get him to drop it, and #2 – if you do go out, do not leave the door open. Good lessons to learn.

I could have smacked myself for leaving that door open when I went out to try to get Joe Bob to drop that damn bird!

Speaking of small animals in the house (that don’t belong), my sister’s cats once brought a chipmunk in her apartment. A CHIPMUNK. I need me a pet chipmunk, those things are freakin’ adorable.

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what did the vet suggest for suggies toes?

An antibiotic ointment applied 3 – 4 times a day. Since we can’t keep a bandage on it, we also lightly spray Bitter Apple spray so that he won’t lick at it. It seems to be improving; it’s definitely better today than it was the day I took him to the vet!

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My spayed and neutered cats NEVER pee on anything….until my grown kids come to visit. They smell a male hormone…..that’s all she wrote.They’re peeing all over their dirty laundry, duffle bags, sheets, you name it. I also once had a female cat that peed (constantly) on my room mates bed, after she had S.e.x. (the room mate, not the cat) I am now convinced the peeing has something to do with the smell of sex. 🙂 Anyone agree?

I don’t know about that, but I can tell you that one night, Fred was sleeping and Mister Boogers was in the room with him (I think Fred had gotten up to pee and Mister Boogers followed him back into his room and Fred decided to let him stay). Mister Boogers was laying between Fred’s legs and Fred farted. And Mister Boogers peed on him. Fred doesn’t think the peeing had anything to do with the farting, but come on. It MUST.

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Wanted to update you on the lady that spent 30 days in shelter for the Humane society. Here is her last day blog.

God bless that woman!

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when do the kittehs go to the shelter for some adoption lovin? Is it when they are spaying age? 3-4 months is it?

Well, the kittens can be spayed and neutered when they reach 2 pounds. I went and looked back through my journal when we had Maddy, and Maddy just barely hit two pounds at about 10 weeks old (I remember being glad that we could have her spayed before Nance and Rick took her home). So I’d guess that 10 – 12 weeks, these guys will be big enough to be spayed and neutered, and once that’s done, they’ll be going to the pet store, hopefully to be adopted immediately!

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We have some litterbox issues with the elder gentleman and I have taken to using the puppy training pads you can get at Target. They absorb, are pretty good sized and have an attractant that might help overcome the dislike of the different litter. Just a suggestion.

I have honestly considered putting down a couple of pee pads (we have some left over from when we had that old beagle back in January) in a few places in the house. Whoever occasionally pees seems to do it on anything we leave on the floor, so if they have a pee pad upon which they can express their displeasure, maybe they won’t pee on things like beds and blankets. It’s worth a try, I think!

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I love the raccoon kitteh! My heart goes pitter patter and I’m not a cat person! At all! Are all cats born with blue eyes like human babies – and then they change color as they get older? If so, What color do you think the raccoon kitten’s eyes will be?

As far as I know, all cats are born with those absolutely gorgeous dark blue eyes and they almost always change color when they get older. If I had to guess, I’d say that Kaylee’s eyes might turn out the same pretty green color as her mother’s eyes, but there’s no way to be sure. We’ll just have to wait and see!

For the record, Maddy’s eyes were that pretty blue at the beginning, like this, and now they’re a really cool green color, as seen here.

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There was a bit of excitement last night in the foster kitty room. Or rather, the excitement was OUTSIDE the foster kitty room. I was going into the room and didn’t realized that Sugarbutt was in the hallway behind me. Usually I’m very careful to make sure there are no cats visible to Kara when I’m going into the room, because she’s still got that protective Momma thing going on. But Sugarbutt was behind me, and she caught sight of him, and she FLEW out of the room and it was all a blur. They ended up in the bathroom and I managed to push Kara into the bathroom while letting Sugarbutt out so he could go racing down the hall and down the stairs and I shut her in the bathroom.

She kicked Sugarbutt’s ASS. He’s fine, she didn’t hurt him, but she scared the everloving shit out of me, for sure.

Fred brought her back into the foster kitty room and she was fine and the babies weren’t even scared by the noise (I yelled “No! No! NO!” during the entire altercation, which did no good at ALL), but we petted her and reassured her that she was a good mommy.

I guess I’ll be a little more careful from here on out! I thought she was going to kill poor Sugarbutt.

The kittens are three weeks old now, and exploring the room more and more. This morning when I went into the room to scoop the litter box, three of the kittens were in the padded pyramid, sound asleep. I think they like the padding in the pyramid and how closed-in it is. When they saw me, they came right out. River’s started climbing me, and Inara will climb into my lap for a minute. I tell you, my tongue is just in SHREDS, I spend so much time biting it so I won’t squoosh them to death.

Kaylee is the deep thinker of the litter. She spends a lot of time watching everything that’s going on, and I’ve seen her looking contemplatively at the top of the box they’ve been living in. I suspect she’s going to be the first one to jump up there – though they’re still little, I’d give it a few weeks!

I weighed the kittens last night, and their weights range from 1 pound 3/4 oz (Zoe) to 1 pound 3 3/4 oz (Inara). They’ve pretty much doubled their weight since their one-week weigh in, which I believe is just perfect, that’s what they’re supposed to be doing. They won’t gain as quickly from here on out, but I’m still going to do weekly weigh ins to see what their progress is.

And speaking of progress, here are their three-week pictures! (Next week I’ll do progressive pictures from 3 days old to 4 weeks old for each of them so you can see the difference!)


(pic) Zoe.


(pic) Inara.


(pic) Kaylee.


(pic) River. (He looks scared, but he’s not. I think he was meowing at Fred.)

Lots of kitten pics over at Flickr.

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(pic) “I weren’t skeered of that Momma kitty. She don’t skeer me. At all. Ever. I did NOT cry like a little baby after she kicked my ass – she didn’t kick my ass! I just let her think she did! – at ALL. She don’t wanna come near me. I’ll show her who the boss is. It’s me! I’m the boss! And I’ll show her! That’s right.”

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Previously
2007: Cleaning is my favorite thing ever, you know, so it was a happy, happy day for me.
2006: 18. Have you ever been in a fight? Nothing stronger than a slap-fight. Are you kidding? I’d shit myself and pass out before anyone got a chance to hit me.
2005: NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT COREY CLARK.
2004: No entry.
2003: You know you’re hormonal when the video for Reba McEntire’s “Fancy” (hee! I almost typed “Fancypants”) makes you all teary-eyed.
2002: It rocked. I loved it. I see a strong love for sushi in my future.
2001: I’ve managed to stay strong.
2000: Poor, poor pitiful me.