Month: June 2008

Thank you, my peeps, for the bra recommendations. Reader Kathy pointed me to LadyGrace.com, where they had MY bra on sale for under $15, so I ordered a buttload (and then I think I offered to marry Kathy, who ROCKS). And now that I can stop worrying about finding a good bra, I’m going to start looking for replacements, which I can take my time about.

I hear those of you who recommend the Lane Bryant Cacique and the Wacoal bras. I will definitely be giving those a try in the future!

I absolutely refuse to be measured by a professional, because the most recent time in my life when I was measured by the so-called “professional” bra fitter at JC Penney, a woman who came highly recommended, she measured me and then gave me these little lacy bras and I tried them on, they didn’t fit worth a shit and I had flabby skin hanging out in all directions. I don’t remember much about the first time I was measured by a professional at a fancypants bra shop, but it was a similar experience for me.

I measured myself using this page, and I tried six or seven bras, and when I discovered the Olga I’ve been wearing for the past few years, I thought my troubles were ALL OVER.

Not so much. Hmph.

I know it’s going to take some looking, and I’m willing to keep trying on bras ’til I find what works for me. And did I mention thank you, y’all, for your suggestions? You guys always come through. Who’s got better readers than me? NO ONE, that’s who!

When I win the lottery, I will buy each and every one of you the bra of your dreams. Promise!

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I measured the rest of me the other day, because I need to buy a shaping garment like such before my next appointment with the surgeon (after 5 weeks, I get to discard the binder, woot!). So I was curious what size I’d need, and so I measured my hips and my waist.

My waist is a size 2X on the Flexees size chart, and my hips are a size large. I look kind of hourglass-y to myself when I look in the mirror, but apparently I’m more of a rectangle.

Yeah, I’m still swollen and I can’t really depend on those measurements as yet, but still. Hmph.

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By the way, I’ve consolidated and moved my links page to make life easier for me. It’s here now, and it’s updated (as of yesterday), but as always there are probably sites I read that aren’t listed. I’ll add them as I think of it! The link on the left sidebar has been updated as well.

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Things that happened while I was recovering from surgery that I never told y’all about:

1. We got a new septic tank. Apparently the field lines in our old septic tank were shot and the guy who’d pumped out our septic tank was all “Oh hai, may I have some moneys?” And Fred was all “If I gives you the cash, a price break?” And the guy was all “Oh hellz yes, pls.” And then Fred was all “The sooner the better!” And the guy was all “Hold up there, hoss, I cannot be tied down! Maybe by the end of the week!” Then time went by, the pages flew off the calendar and Fred was all “WTF? Whyfor, when we’re all HERE HAVE SOME MONEY! do the contractors vanish into the distance?” and he called the guy and the guy was all “Uh, I was waiting! For a part! Yeah, a part! Maybe Wednesday!” and they worked it out so that when we were at the hospital all day, the guy would be here installing the septic tank and field lines, and so by the time I got home Friday mid-morning, it was pretty much done except for the smoothing of the dirt, which he finished Friday. And Fred put grass seed and straw in the front yard to encourage a lawn to grow, and it’s slowly, patchily growing in.

2. The Saturday after I got home from the hospital, Fred put out a sign indicating that we had “Fresh Eggs $2.50”, and a family stopped and they wanted both of the dozen eggs and they just happened to ask if we had any chicks they could buy so they could take them home and have their own source of fresh eggs in a few months. Fred thought about it, and decided to sell them five of the chicks we’d hatched ourselves, and then he came in and told me about it, and here’s the kicker: we felt (and still feel) kind of bad about selling those chicks. And what’s STUPID is that those chicks are going to live longer in their new home than they would have here, because those chickens came from the batch of chicks we decreed would be our meat chickens, but still – who knows what conditions they’ll be living in? THOSE POOR DAMN BABIES.

3. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned it or not, but Fred has been selling eggs on eBay. Not for eating, for hatching. Eggs! On eBay! Have you ever heard such a thing? He’s sold, I think, four dozen eggs, maybe more. And he carefully wraps each egg in bubble wrap, then wraps the egg carton in tape and buries the whole thing in styrofoam peanuts. Eggs have gone to Washington State, Milwaukee, and New York. The woman in Milwaukee actually bought a second dozen from Fred. It’s kind of neat that there are babies from Mclovin and the girls being born all over the country, but at the same time, I’ve gotta wonder – are fertilized eggs really at such a premium that people need to buy them on eBay from some weird guy in Alabama?

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I bought blueberries on sale at the grocery store on Monday, and like ten minutes after I bought them they started growing mold, so I was able to make one blueberry coffee cake out of the one non-moldy pint of blueberries I had, and ended up tossing the other two pints to the chickens.

There is seriously nothing cuter on earth than little bitty baby chickens running around with blueberries in their beaks, shrieking their “I HAS FOOD! I HAS FOOD!” sound.

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Very important words of advice from Mia regarding the Tylenol/ Advil combo:

On the tylenol/advil combo. My assvice to you, from someone who works in pharmacy is to be very careful about how much tylenol you’re taking between the combo and the vicodin. You should never take more than 4000mgs of tylenol in a 24 hr. period. Your vicodin may have 325mg or 500mg per tablet plus whatever strength tylenol you take in the combo. People are under the assumption that tylenol being otc is that it’s safe, that’s why some people use it as a choice for a “call for help overdose” problem being is that it doesn’t take much before you end up on the liver organ donor list. That’s the end of my pharmacology lecture.

Thanks, Mia!

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I made a kitten movie last night, and when I was done and it was processing, I found that it was SEVEN minutes long. I can barely bear to sit and watch a two minute movie; I’m not going to subject anyone to a SEVEN minute long kitten movie. So I made it shorter and I’ll post one a day for the next week or so.

Wild Things playing:

I actually shot this last week, so they were 6 weeks old at the time, even though they’re… well hell, they’re 8 weeks old today!

You can also download it in mpg form, here.

I call this series…

Drama Kitten is Very Dramatic.

She will be appearing in the local Catspearean production of Romeo & Juliet. Above, she’s practicing for her big death scene.

A few more Zoe-in-bowl pics over at Flickr.

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Happy Joe.

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Previously
2007: “nom nom” is HILARIOUS.
2006: He’s such a nosy little fucker.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: Wouldn’t it be funny if as soon as we put all the flyers out in the neighborhood, he came swishing home?
2002: “NO,” he said with great certainty. “That was YOU!”
2001: But look at that little face. How can you not see it and just grin like a fool?
2000: Which is better than it could have been – we were afraid his foot was slowly rotting off.

Last week when I was at Wal-Mart, I took a mosey through their bakery section, and I eyeballed their blueberry muffins, and I came very close to buying some blueberry muffins, but then I thought twice about it, and I realized that never once in my life have I bought blueberry muffins at a store that were even a tenth as good as the blueberry muffins I can make at home, even the low fat, reduced calorie ones. I think I’ve decided that when it comes to muffins, I’d rather make them myself than buy a substandard muffin at the store.

I’m kind of a blueberry muffin snob, I guess. I can make better cakes, cookies, meals, salads at home, but I’m willing to buy that stuff already made. When it comes to blueberry muffins, though – most muffins, really – I don’t want to compromise. I know I’ll never go home and make the damn muffins myself, but if it’s a matter of buying the crappy stuff at the store or going without, even if I’m having a blueberry muffin craving, I’d rather go without.

What – and I’m not just talking about food, I’m talking about anything at all – gets your snob mojo flowing?

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On Saturday, as he was headed out to do something in the blistering-hot sun, Fred said “Do we have any more sunblock? I just finished that tube of Clinique you gave me.”

I went into the kitchen to dig for another tube of Clinique I’d put in there at some point in the last few months.

“I wouldn’t mind something that costs a LOT less than Clinique,” Fred said prissily as I dug.

“Well, I didn’t get the Clinique for YOU, princess,” I said, then handed him the tube and stomped back into the computer room.

Next time I go to the store, I’m going to get him the shitty, greasy $1.99 stuff, and when it clogs up his pores and makes him break out and he feels like he’s smothering because it’s just sitting on his skin and not absorbing easily and quickly like my lovely Clinique does, I will say “Well, we can’t really afford to provide Clinique for EVERYONE, so I guess you need to just SUCK IT UP, PRINCESS!”

Fucking ingrate.

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Is it just me, or does this picture of River:

Look a lot like this picture?

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Anyone on Facebook want to play Scrabulous with me? I suck, as anyone who’s ever played against me can attest, but I don’t mind losing! Start up a game against me, I’ll happily play you ’til the cows come home.

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Over the weekend, when we had Kara sequestered away from the kittens, we took the opportunity to bring Tommy in to see the kittens and see how they’d react to him.

What we forgot is that Tommy, much as he’s the Goodwill Ambassador, is always a wee bit hissy when he first comes face to face with new cats. We let him into the foster room, he came face to face with Zoe, and he hissed. She got a little, shall we say, kerfluffed.

After they hissed back and forth a few times, Inara – who was hiding under the dresser – started wailing. She sounded so scared that I decided it was time Tommy vacate the premises, which he happily did.

The entire time, Kaylee and River stayed sound asleep on the cat tree.

First visit: not such a rousing success.

A few more kitten pics over at Flickr.

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Miz Poo in the sun. Time for a bath!

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: You are SO jealous of my life. I can tell.
2004: I’m going to drag myself kicking and screaming into this century if it’s the last thing I do, dagnabbit!
2003: “She was over there looking at stamps a minute ago. She did – she cut in line!” he said, and then tsked in disapproval.
2002: I am NOT picking that up, I thought definitely.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

This is kinda neat:

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We left Crooked Acres for just over two hours on Saturday, and SOMEHOW the place was still standing when we arrived back home. Before we left, Fred brought Kara down to the guest bedroom and set her up, and then we both visited with her, and with the kittens, and Kara seemed mostly puzzled and uncertain whether she was being punished or rewarded.

So we left the house at 10:00, stopped by the post office, the recycling center, and then the movie store to return some movies. Then we headed out to the shelter I volunteer for to pick some things up for the kittens. We tried to determine the quickest way out there, and Fred decided to try a new route that got us there fairly quickly and, on the up side, avoided the worst of the traffic between here and there. We stayed at the shelter for a few minutes (one day last week the shelter accepted and processed (tested and vaccinated) FOURTEEN kittens. In one day!) and then headed into Huntsville. We stopped a shitty little grocery store to pick up a few things (when I say “a shitty little grocery store”, what I mean is Pigg ly Wigg ly, which is all over the place around here, but never fails to make me shake my head when I’m leaving the store.) and then we swung by the pet store to drop off a few things from the shelter and I found to my utter delight that HG had FINALLY been adopted.

HG went to the pet store a few days before we got Kara, which means he’d been there for about seven weeks. I kept checking the shelter web site to see if he’d been adopted, and I was starting to try to convince Fred that if he hadn’t been adopted, we should bring him home for a few months to give him a break from the pet store until after the busiest part of kitten season had passed. Luckily I didn’t have to go for the hard press on Saturday, since HG had been adopted on Tuesday. He is SUCH a good boy, I’m so glad the right people finally came along and fell in love with him!

We bought a few things at the pet store and then headed home. We stopped at our favorite grocery store, bought what we needed, and finally a little more than two hours after we’d left the house we were home again, and Fred could stop complaining.

Since it was the first time we’d separated Kara and the kittens, we decided that four hours apart was long enough for the first time, so Fred took her back upstairs to the foster kitten room, and when she was reunited with her baby, I expected her babies to look at her with relief and love. I expected slow-motion runs across the room to their Momma and Kara to nuzzle and groom them and maybe tell them all about those mean humans who would separate them. Instead, the babies looked at Kara and were like “Oh. Her. Whatevs.” and went about their business kicking each others’ asses. Kara was all “Oh, shit. Babies. Bleh.” and went over to the food bowl to eat.

I suppose I appreciate the lack of drama, but damn. DON’T YOU CATS LOVE EACH OTHER AT ALL?!

Since I spent so much time sitting on my ass in the car, I was wiped out and took a nice hour-long nap while Fred was outside busting his ass mowing the lawn. DID I MENTION I JUST HAD MAJOR SURGERY, DAMNIT?

Speaking of my major surgery, since I’m only having drainage in the little spot where the drain was removed, I taped some gauze over that spot, then I put on a tank top I bought at Wal-Mart last week, and then I had Fred pull the binder tight around me (and that man can pull a binder SERIOUSLY tight. My eyes about popped out of my head.) and it was more comfortable than having the binder directly against my skin.

Um. What else? Oh, right. While we were at the pet store, I remembered that I needed to buy a new block of corn for the squirrel bungee cord feeder I’d bought a few weeks ago. The idea is that the squirrels will eat off the block of corn while bouncing around at the end of a bungee cord and leave your bird feeders the hell alone. What actually happens is that the squirrels decimate the block of corn and then go back to monopolizing your bird feeders.

It works well for them.

So I looked around, and I found a block of corn that would screw onto the end of the bungee cord feeder, and so I bought it.

It’s not just any block of corn, though. No, not for OUR squirrels. What we got here, y’all, is a Kob. But not just ANY Kob.

It’s a Big Ol’ Kob. Of course.

Thus far, the squirrels seem unimpressed, but the Blue Jays like it. I have no doubt that the squirrels will find it one night, and the next morning it’ll be completely gone.

Sunday morning, when I asked Fred if he was ready to move Kara into the guest bedroom, he said he’d been thinking about it, and why not just put her in my room? My room’s much closer and wouldn’t require him to carry a carrier and a litter box down the stairs, and because he’s A MAN he won’t bring her in the carrier downstairs and then go back up to get the litter box, instead he prefers to carry her in the carrier and the litter box balanced on top, and that’s just asking for trouble.

So anyway, we put Kara in my room for the better part of the day, and she was again confused, but I went in and laid down and petted her and read and she paced and talked and paced some more, then sat and looked out the window, then paced, etc. It was easier spending time with her when I could lay down on the bed rather than sit on the floor. We moved her back in with her kittens after about eight hours, and she was all talkative and they were “Hey, hi, it’s the Momma!”, and Inara and Zoe followed her around and tried to nurse from her while she was standing in front of the food bowl, and Kara was all “I AM NOT A COW, get away from me, chilluns!” and then eventually they started fighting with each other and left her alone.

Fred finished his farm chores (ie, mowing the lawn and back forty) early Sunday afternoon, and to my utter shock, decided he was NOT going to do any more work for the day, since it was so hot outside he couldn’t stand the thought of being outside all afternoon long. I opened my mouth to spout off the list of things that need doing around the house, but he beat me to the punch and allowed that he thought he wanted to spend the afternoon watching a movie. So I sat in the living room with him as he watched the first Indiana Jones movie (we’re possibly going to the theater to see the latest one later this week) and flipped through magazines.

Sunday evening Fred harvested our first summer squash and eggplant, and we had vegetable medley, which consisted of sauteed onion, sliced summer squash, sliced eggplant, dehydrated cherry tomatoes from last summer, and a sprinkle of crushed red pepper. That, along with ears of corn from last summer (we have exactly four ears of corn left from last summer – good thing we’re growing four times as much corn this year, eh?) and chuck roast direct from a day on the smoker made Sunday supper pretty damn good.

It was a pretty damn good weekend, all in all.

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So, all the bebbes are doing well. The kittens have had their first vaccination and will be having their next in another three weeks, at which point they’ll be ready to be spayed and neutered and soon after that, go to the pet store.

WAHHHHH!

After two days of keeping Kara and the babies apart, I decided to stop separating them, not because it’s too hard on them but because no one seems to notice, one way or the other. I still have yet to see Zoe eat any solid food, but she certainly eats the hell out of baby food if I offer it to her, so I imagine that she could eat solid food if she wanted to, she’s just not particularly interested. She seems to be a little behind her siblings, development-wise, so I’m not going to worry too much about it. She’s gaining weight, she’s healthy and curious and bright-eyed and a bitey little brat, so I think all is well with her.

The look on River’s face (the gray tabby on the right) is cracking me up, because he’s clearly thisclose to yawning (which, naturally, I didn’t catch with the camera!)

Truly, how can you resist that goofy little face?

More kitten pics over at Flickr.

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“You rang?”

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: Who else would put up with this sort of bullshit?
2005: Teen labor: I highly recommend it.
2004: The quarry.
2003: You can’t tell I’m PMS-ing with a vengeance, can you, with all this talk of food?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: So, have I mentioned that I’m an idiot?

For the record, I am completely out of new Bitchypoo logos, which is why you’re seeing last month’s up there, still. If anyone’s feeling creative, I’d love to see what you come up with!

(Edited to add: New month, new logo! Thank you, Kari!!!)

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I’ve recently started watching Gossip Girl – I downloaded the first six episodes before I visited Nance and Rick a few months ago, with the intention of watching them on the plane, but couldn’t hear anything over the noise of the plane, so didn’t – and I have to ask. Am I correct in believing that the actress who played Blair’s mother in the first episode was not the actress who played her in subsequent episodes, Margaret Colin? Because I know who Margaret Colin is – I remember her from As the World Turns, as Margo Montgomery Hughes, back when I was a soap watcher – and I’m pretty sure I would have noticed her in the pilot.

Annnnd, never mind. After some digging around on IMDB, I see that Eleanor Waldorf was played by a completely different actress in the pilot. Weird.

I have to say, I’m enjoying Gossip Girl, though I don’t know why on earth anyone would be interested in Nate because he is BORING.

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Thank you to reader Jen, who sent me the link to a video of all the Arrested Development chicken dances in ONE PLACE

TOTALLY made my day, it did. And I might have gone back to watch it once or twice or a hundred times.

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Also, reader Teri C. left the link to this movie in my comments the other day:

That is about the neatest thing on earth, honestly. Go check out The Cat House on the Kings web site. Like Fred said, after I told him about that place, “I bet when she yells ‘WHO READY FOR THE SNACKIN’?!’, she REALLY gets a reaction!”

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I’m glad to hear you’re doing so very well. I am a tad bit jealous, though. Not only did I have FOUR drains from my surgery, but the two they left in nearly four weeks were the ones in the groin area and it was not pleasant at all. PLUS my binder was actually a full-length compression garment that was horrible to wear in the Texas June heat.

I was really, really surprised to find that I only had two drains and that they were on my hips. Fred had two drains (I think?), and he was only cut on the front. His were in his groin area, which as you can imagine is a fairly sensitive area, which is probably why they bothered him so much and why the second one hurt so much when it was removed.

I actually – skin irritation aside – kind of like my binder. I get Fred to pull it plenty tight, and I feel like it gives me extra support. I just wish it were made of more comfortable material.

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Your new stomach looks great already. Does this mean you and Fred will have matching scars ? Or do they do a man’s incision differently?

I think our scars will be about the same, although his is only in the front, and mine goes all the way around. You actually have to look closely to see his scar these days, it’s faded so much.

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Hey — didjoo get a new bellybutton, or is that the same old belly button y’always had? (Not that I would recognize the difference, ‘cuz it’s not like I ever had a chance to see it, right?)

It’s a new belly button, and I have a confession – it seems to me that it’s higher than it should be. I’ve asked Fred several times if it looks too high for him, and he swears it’s where it’s supposed to be, so what I guess is that where my belly button was before (much lower, and surrounded by skin and fat) is not where a belly button ordinarily is.

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Damn, Robyn, that is a gnarley looking incision. I feel for your pain!!!!!! Will you have a nasty scar from that or will it fade? Damn that looks like it hurts!!!

It’ll fade over time – and it looks a lot worse than it feels, I promise! I took Tylenol Wednesday before we went to the surgeon’s office, just because I was afraid of the drain-removal pain, but other than that, it’s been two or three days since I’ve taken any Tylenol for pain. I have the occasional shooting pain in random spots, and overall I feel like I lifted weights and overdid it (and I have bruising from where liposuction was done), but other than that, I feel great! If I’d realized I’d be feeling this good at two weeks after surgery, I would have worried a whole lot less beforehand.

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Edited to add: The incision picture is here, you damn skimmers. I linked it last week.

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That binder is SEX-AY — does it come in a thong style?

I don’t believe so – and I cannot imagine that the material the binder is made of would be comfortable on ones nether regions. I go commando anyways, because there is just no way to wear underwear with this binder and not have it be annoying and in the way, so without underwear I go.

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Can you take some tylenol PM or something? It might help.

I never did need to take anything to help me sleep, since my sleeping pattern straightened out once I was able to sleep in my bed. I am remarkably without sleep issues; I’m the only one I know who has no problems getting to sleep and staying there.

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By the way, do you have a little bell to ring for service from your nurse Fred?

and

Is Fred taking excellent care of you and the kitties?

and

Is Spud going to be home over the Holiday to visit and nurse her Mommy???

Fred took perfectly good care of me while I was recuperating, and he’s continuing to clean out the litter boxes (though he grumbles). I never had a little bell to ring, and Fred’s not really the hover-over-you-and-ask-if-you-need-anything type. For the first few days I spent my days snoozing in the recliner in front of the TV, and he went and worked outside, occasionally coming in to yell at me to get up and move around. Bastard.

The spud didn’t come home to “nurse” me, because I didn’t know I was having surgery until a week and a half beforehand, plus she’s got her own life, plus I walked around for the first week and a half in nothing but an oversized man’s button-up shirt with my ass hanging out the back, and no child needs to be scarred for life by seeing THAT.

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Robyn, how are you keeping the kitties from jumping on you? Mine use me as their personal playground!

When I sit in the recliner, I have a pillow across my abdomen to protect me, I sleep with a pillow over my abdomen, and I have a finely honed sense of when a cat is on the verge of jumping up on me, and I am skilled in saying “NO!” like I mean it. Occasionally in the middle of the night Miz Poo will still try to climb up on my stomach, but when I push her down, she just settles down next to me happily enough.

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did all the poop questions make you think of scrubs singing, “Everything comes down to poo...”

Sadly, it never entered my mind. Next time, I’ll start singing it, though. That song cracks me UP.

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Also, (and I’m really not trying to be a snooty know-it-all) the reason they keep asking about your bowels is that when you are put to sleep for surgery it stops the natural wave like movement that your bowels do 24/7. They like to make sure it starts back up, cuz if not, it would be very not good. I only butt in with my unsolicited third rate medical k-nowledge because you are planning to have another surgery and they will probably drive you crazy again. I’m glad the surgery went well for you!

I honestly did not know that my bowels are doing the wave constantly, but I am oddly charmed by the idea!

Other comments of interest:

I’m going to echo what LeighC said about the BM thing. I’m a RN working on an orthopedic floor primarily with elderly folks who have broken their hips. If the poop don’t start moving within a few days pos-op it can lead to a life threatening bowel obstruction so that’s why we all seem to take such an interest in the frequency, size, colour and consistency of your poop!

and

Sharon is right…everything does come down to poo. I’m a fairly new nurse, and, aside from the surgical complications, I have come to learn that people are obsessed with their bowels. It is either flying out of them or stuck. I cannot tell you how I breath a sigh of relief when my patients tell me they are regular. Regularity is a beautiful thing. Embrace it.

I love my readers! Y’all educate and amuse me every damn day!

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Has it really been 4 years since the famous quote, “I like cheese, just not on a salad” ?

Hard to believe, isn’t it? For the record, Fred continues to like cheese, just not on a salad. Or burger.

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I have a kitteh question, not a surgereh question. Kara was an outside cat I think? She’s been an indoor cat while with you but has had her paws full with her family — do you think she can continue to be an indoor cat? Won’t the shelter want to adopt her out as an indoor cat?

I don’t know if she was an outside cat, or if she became an outside cat due to being abandoned (grrrr), but yeah – the shelter will adopt her out as an indoor cat. She’s adjusted well to being inside (though I think she’s a little bored, being in that room with those kittens). I don’t know if she can continue to be an indoor cat, but I think signs are good. She doesn’t try to escape the foster kitten room – she comes over to greet us when we walk in, but she doesn’t try to run out – and I would think that a cat determined to go outside would be more aggressive about escaping. It’s going to be a try-it-and-see sort of deal with whoever adopts her, I think.

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OK, you gotta tell me what that big round fabric thing is in some of the kitten pictures! It looks like a lot of kitten fun!

I wasn’t sure which thing exactly you were talking about, so I took pictures of anything in the cat room that could fit the bill!

This is most likely what you were talking about. It’s a… big round play thing? I don’t know what it’s called, but you can see that there’s a bed in the bottom. The kittens like to sleep there. The top is separated into two parts, and they like to get so that one of them is in one compartment and another is in the other, then they fight through the hole between the two. They enjoy the hell out of that thing. Another shelter volunteer had it, and her cats were never interested in it, so she asked if I wanted it. I brought it home, and almost every set of fosters we’ve had since have really enjoyed playing on it. The kittens especially like to climb up the outside and sit on the top like they’re the king (or queen) of the world.

This is a cat basket, actually. It’s upside down here – I turn it over so it’s the way it’s supposed to be, and they just flip it back over. They sleep on it like this, they sit and watch their siblings, and they also like to jump from it to the cat tree.

Kitty pyramid. The kittens moved from the nesting box to the pyramid a few weeks ago, and occasionally they’ll still sleep in there. I earned it with my Fresh Step Paw Points, so all I had to pay was $5 in shipping. Woot!

Kitty condo. We’ve had this forever; it started out belonging to our cats, then eventually was brought upstairs into the kitten room. They love to play inside it, love to sleep on top, and love to climb up the side and hang there. It’s all-purpose!

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Have you considered sequestering Zoe? She may be reacting to some covert runt eradication behavior.

I’ve watched the kittens when I spend time in there, and I honestly don’t see that she’s being picked on or anything – she and the next size up kitten (Kaylee) fight with each other all the time, but she’s the instigator most of the time. I’m just going to keep an eye on her. It’s possible that she’s just not developing as fast as the other kittens, but she seems to be developing normally, so I’m not too worried.

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[On Roseanne]Now someone tell me, whatever happened to Darlene’s baby that was born early?

If I remember the last episode correctly, the baby turned out to be just fine. I didn’t watch the show as religiously once it got weird and they won the lottery and all that.

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I can’t be the only one who wants to know how you euthanize a turtle.

I’m just going to cut and paste from Fred’s entry at the end of January, when we picked up the injured baby owl by the side of the road:

Soak several paper towels in ether, which is commercially available as diesel or gasoline engine starter at any auto parts store. Put the paper towels into a sealed container large enough to hold the animal, and leave them for several minutes. This lets the fumes build up to lethal levels. Put some dry paper towels down over the wet ones, and lay the injured animal on them (probably you would want to make sure you didn’t inhale any fumes). Reseal the container. In very short order, the animal will go to sleep, then die quietly. Make sure you leave the animal in there long enough for the ether to do its job.

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I tear up every time I see Momma hen #1 with just two babies. It is so sad, I wonder if she misses them. How did the dead turtle get out of its’ shell? Did an animal eat it where it was Or did Fred pull the dead body out of its shell in the back 40? Put the turtle shell in your flower garden as an ornament.

I don’t know that Momma Chicken #1 misses her missing babies (those of you who don’t read Fred’s journal, a raccoon got three of her babies, you can read about it here), she seems perfectly fine to me. Chickens aren’t the most intelligent animals, and it’s possible that she’s sad and misses them, but I think that we humans are probably sadder about it than she is.

No, Fred just put the dead turtle, shell and all, at the back forty; we assume some wild animal ate the inside.

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OK, I hope this isn’t insensitive or anything, because that is such a pretty, lovely place for Spot to be laid to rest. But the way the grass is growing around the marker makes it look like it says “POT” instead of Spot, kind of like ya’ll are growing a big old crop and wanted to mark your garden. Drug raid at Crooked Acres! Video at 11! Heh.

It’s just to distract THE COPS, so while they’re poking around by the Spot spot looking for pot, we can run out to the back forty and hide the REAL pot plants!

(Kidding, of course.)

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Do you think it’s okay for a woman to pass gas in front of her husband/significant other?

No, I think it’s a divorceable offense.

HahahahahHA!

While I don’t think it’s IDEAL for a woman to pass gas in front of her significant other (and vice versa!), I also don’t think it’s realistic to expect a woman who’s having gas issues to get up and go into the bathroom every time she has to belch or fart. I say, let ‘er rip! Of course, that doesn’t work in all marriages/ relationships, so your mileage may vary.

Other comments regarding that topic:

Sammi – definitely it is okay to pass gas in front of your spouse, not like they think twice about it! I saw a study in the local newspaper awhile back (they actually studied farts and no this was not on April 1) and it said that women actually have more and stinkier gas than men so I say we live it up!

and

Jen, I wonder if the reason women have stinkier farts than men is because we actually have more shame than men, and will hold our gas until an appropriate time so the gas has more time to ferment in our colons??? I’m just sayin’.

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So while I was out yesterday (did I mention I was cleared to drive, so I drove to the post office and stopped at the grocery store then came home and took a nap?), I picked up a few jars of Gerber #2 Chicken and Gravy baby food. As far as I can tell, kittens will eat most any meat-based baby food, but have a special fondness for the chicken and gravy. I went upstairs into the kitten room, opened up the jar, dipped my finger in and held it out to Zoe, and I thought she was going to take my finger off. She LOVED that stuff. She ate a bunch (it’s hard to know exactly how much, because her siblings were raaaaaaaaaaaather fond of the stuff, too), and now that I know she’s at least interested and able to eat something other than her mother’s milk and water, I know I can work with her on getting on the solid stuff.

Did I mention he’s a Momma’s boy?

The troublesome little runt herself. Don’t you want to squeeze her to death?

I’m sorry, the row of tiny little teeth on the bottom is KILLING ME.

Doesn’t he look like he’s whining about something? “I just wanted to sniff her tail, and she smacked me, wah!”

Kara’s all “Really? We’re still doing this, seven weeks later? REALLY? Are you KIDDING me?”

More kitten pics over at Flickr.

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“You has come to rub my ears, pls?”

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Previously
2007: Mister Boogers wiggled frantically, slid through the hole, and ran off across the yard.
2006: HOW ABOUT SOME MOURNING, PAUL?
2005: Dumbass things I have done today.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Ass in the Past will be the name of my 14th novel.
2000: Ah, the heart warms.

Hey, you, searching on “Chipotle mayo.” I’ve never made it, never mentioned it. Either you read about it somewhere else, or you’re thinking of the roasted red onion mayo I talked about when I made Paula Deen’s Grilled Apple, Bacon and Cheddar Sandwich with Roasted Red Onion Mayo. That mayo was some GOOD stuff.

Or there’s a Chipotle Mayo recipe, here. Not something I’d make, though, since I’m no fan of peppers of any kind.

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These days my schedule is such:

7ish: Wake up, get out of bed. Sit in front of the computer for a while.
8ish: Go upstairs to bring Kara a snack (she likes canned cat food, so she gets some every morning), hang out with she and the little monsters.
9ish: Sponge-bathe, wash hair. I’ve only been washing my hair every other day rather than every day, because it’s not like I spend all day sweating or anything.
9:30ish: Eat breakfast. Clean kitchen. Do laundry, if any needs to be done.
10:00ish: Sit in the recliner. Read magazines while listening to country music videos, or watch something I’ve taped – usually Roseanne (YOU SHUT UP. I love that show!). Sometimes there’s snoozing.
11:30ish: Go upstairs and hang with Kara and the babies. Be bitten 10,000 times, scratched 1,000 times, and licked once (which totally makes up for the biting and scratching.
1:00ish: Eat lunch. Clean up kitchen. Find some sort of treat for the chickens and give it to them.
1:45ish: Get back in the recliner for reading/ TV watching/ snoozing
3:00ish: Hang with Kara and the babies.
3:30ish: Fred gets home. Follow him around like a bored little kid.
4:00ish: Make dinner.
5:00ish: Eat dinner.
5:15 – 7:00ish: Clean kitchen, hang out with Kara and the babies, putter around the house, stand nekkidly in the dining room while Fred changes the dressing on my incision and re-cinches me back into my binder.
7:00 – 9:00: Watch TV with Fred.
9:00 – 9:30ish: Hang out with Kara and her babies. I am utterly ignored during this time because The! Fun! Guy! is present in the room.
9:30 – 9:45 or so: Lay in bed and talk to Fred.
9:45: Kiss Fred goodnight. On nights when I’m tired, go right to sleep. When I’m not, listen to or watch something on the iPod until I’m tired.

Given that my schedule is pretty much the same from day to day with no big changes, I suggest that you expect entries to be incredibly light on content for the foreseeable future.

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The magnolias are a-bloomin’.

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Kittens and Kara are doing well. I’ve been talking about putting Kara in a carrier and putting her in the bathroom for a little while one evening, then letting Tommy the Ambassador in to the kitten room and seeing how they deal with a new cat. I can tell you how Kara would deal with a new cat: she’d beat the everloving shit out of him. Yesterday, Zoe peed on a cat bed (SIGH), and I brought the cat bed downstairs to wash, and when I stepped outside the foster kitten room with the cat bed, I looked down at the towel sitting on the floor – the towel that’s been there for several weeks, blocking the bottom of the door so that our cats couldn’t stress out Kara by sniffing under the door at her. I thought, well, our cats haven’t shown much interest in the kitten room since Kara went on her ass-kicking spree a few weeks ago, so does this towel really need to be here? Probably not.

So I brought the towel down with the bed, and last night at 11:30, when I was sound asleep apparently Tommy started sniffing around the bottom of the door, and Kara lost her shit, pounding on the door and growling until I got a towel and put it at the bottom of the door.

I took the good camera upstairs the other day and got some action-kitty shots.

Banzai!

Banzai!

Lo, you’re right. The correct term for Kaylee would be “State of kerfluffle”, as illustrated above.

More kitten pics over at Flickr.

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“Hellew.”

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I need to invest in shirts that are low in the back so I can show off my badass scar.
2003: I’m about to enter the PMS Zone
2002: What I’ve done since Thursday
2001: No entry.
2000: God help me, I’m going to go upstairs and strangle Spanky if he doesn’t stop that infernal fucking howling.