Okay, I have shit to do – I’m going to the mall today and stopping by Kohl’s, among a million other places – so I’m skipping today’s entry. I’ll be back tomorrow. Hey, look! Cute cat pictures! I think it’s safe to say that Tommy is the Crooked Acres snuggle slut. & & & & … Continue reading “12-16-08”
Okay, I have shit to do – I’m going to the mall today and stopping by Kohl’s, among a million other places – so I’m skipping today’s entry. I’ll be back tomorrow.
Hey, look! Cute cat pictures!
I think it’s safe to say that Tommy is the Crooked Acres snuggle slut.
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Previously 2007: I wonder why I wouldn’t want to take “an active role” in picking the rooster, given that I wanted it SO VERY MUCH.
2006: No entry. 2005: You know what I really fucking hate? 2004: I guess it really does pay to be in the right place at the right time, eh? 2003: No one cries alone when I’m around, I always say. 2002: Next week will be a lovely roller coaster ride of stressed-out PMS hormones gone wild.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry. 1999: Have I mentioned that I sleep in the nude?
I went to Publix yesterday to get groceries and when I touched the metal shelf the sour cream was sitting on, someone must have yelled “CLEAR!” because I got the worst zap of my entire life. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. THAT SHIT HURTS. It’s not been a good … Continue reading “12-15-08”
I went to Publix yesterday to get groceries and when I touched the metal shelf the sour cream was sitting on, someone must have yelled “CLEAR!” because I got the worst zap of my entire life. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain.
THAT SHIT HURTS.
It’s not been a good time to be a finger on the hand of Robyn And3rson lately. The other night I was talking on the phone and was putting dishes in the dishwasher away. When the dishes were all put away, I went to close the dishwasher door, and I slammed it right on my thumb. I did the silent, open-mouthed Dance of Pain where I ran in place for several steps. Fred, who was standing behind me managed to pantomime “Are you okay?” before he collapsed in gales of silent laughter.
He said later that I looked like Turk high-stepping it onto the dance floor in this clip from Scrubs.
I slammed my hand in the screen door at some point on Saturday, Saturday night Delmar gave me a damn puncture wound to the bone with his sharp little bastard teeth (okay, maybe it’s more my fault than his – but when he lays on my lap and shows his little belly to me, I cannot resist squeezing his belly fat), and then yesterday was the aforementioned Zap of Doom.
And of course once I got zapped in the dairy aisle, every goddamn thing I touched until I left the store zapped the shit out of me.
I love you, Publix, but HOW ABOUT SOME HUMIDIFIERS?
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So, I know I’ve mentioned recently that we were talking about putting the door back in the doorway between the kitchen and the laundry room because leaving the back door open so the cats could go in and out through the cat door in the screen door was making the back part of the house really freakin’ cold.
But we talked about the door and we looked at the doorway, and putting the door back just wasn’t going to work, because the laundry room is big, but there are so many food bowls and litter boxes and storage shelves back there, that there’s no way it would be feasible to have a door in the way, because we’ve have to move, at minimum, the food dishes to another location, and the storage shelves would need to be moved, too.
Then we talked about getting some heavy curtains and just hanging them across the doorway. The cats could push through the doorway easily, and it would at least keep some of the cold air out of the kitchen and the rest of the house.
But I didn’t like the idea of how that would look, and I actually spend more time than you’d think standing in the kitchen and looking through the laundry room and out the back door to see what the chickens are doing.
So we were at an impasse, and I was toying with the idea of having a cutoff – like, if it’s under 50 degrees, the cats can just keep their asses inside, but on the days I don’t let the cats out (like with the super-rainy days we had last week), the cats tend to be a pain in the ass. They don’t necessarily want to be outside, but they DO want the option. Sometimes they express their displeasure by peeing on something.
(If I ever commit a heinous crime, I will be brought before the judge and my lawyer will simply say “Cat urine.” and the judge will proclaim “CASE DISMISSED!”)
Friday night we were watching TV and I was reading blogs on my laptop, and I was reading [noise], specifically this post, and I lifted my head and looked at Fred, and I said “We are goddamn idiots.”
Because we HAVE a screen door with a cat door in the bottom of it. What else do they make? STORM DOORS with pet doors in the bottom. You know, STORM DOORS, which might not hold back ALL the cold, but for sure it’s got to be better than having a fucking screen door, which holds back NONE of the cold.
“Does L0we’s carry them?” Fred asked, and I went to their web page to look, and lo and behold. They DO.
So Saturday morning I went on the web page and I placed the order for the storm door, to be picked up at the store, and not three minutes after I hit “submit” on the order, Fred’s cell phone rang and it was L0we’s, telling us to come get our storm door!
We did, and Fred was going to install the storm door yesterday, but found that it’s a little beyond his skill set, so we’ve got someone coming later this week to do so.
Like I said, I don’t think it’ll completely hold back the cold, but it’ll certainly HELP the situation.
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The moon was very big Friday night (which I only noticed because Fred pointed it out to me).
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I don’t know what setting I was using on the camera when I took these pictures, but it was a flattering one. The lighting on the first one almost makes it look like a painting.
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I bought an electric throw at Walmart to keep in the living room and to use in the evenings when we’re watching TV. It works really well, and one day one of the cats accidentally (or WAS IT an accident?!) stepped on the control and turned it on, and Spanky wandered across it and found that it was warm, and he declared that it was good, and so every day Spanky sleeps on this blanket on the couch, even though it hasn’t been accidentally turned on since.
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We stopped by the feed store where we visited a few weeks ago – remember the place with the newborn pot-bellied pigs? – to pick up some more cat food. We got to see the baby pot-bellied pigs again, and they are ADORABLE, but alas, Crooked Acres only grows pigs to eat, not to be pets, so no pot-bellied pigs for us.
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Head rooster Michelle gets prettier by the day, I swear.
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Saturday morning, very very early, I heard the banging sound of kittens wanting OUT of their room, OUT OUT OUT NOW PLEASE. I rolled over and looked at the clock and it wasn’t even 4:00. I tried ignoring them, but when they (Lem, I suspect) get to banging at the door, they are persistent and loud.
I went and blew a blast of compressed air under the door, which startled them into being quiet for a little while, but fifteen minutes later the banging started again. I blew another blast of air under the door and again there was quiet for a little while and then the banging began again.
I threw up my hands and gave up, opening the door so that the kittens could come out. They did what they always do when I let them out, which is that they climb up onto the bed and purr at me, get petted, and then wander off to make trouble elsewhere.
I complained about being woken up early to Fred, and he suggested that we try just leaving the kittens out instead of locking them up overnight. I decided to give it a try – why not, right? – so Saturday night we just left the door open.
Fred went to bed, and I stayed up to read, and by 10:15 it became pretty clear that leaving the kittens out wasn’t going to work. Marion, Claudette, and Lem were racing around the house like their tails were on fire, and Delmar was under the covers with me, and every time I moved my legs, he pounced on me and kicked and bit at me.
I got up and herded them all into the foster room and shut the door.
I suppose I can live with being woken up at 4 in the morning, stumbling to the door, and opening it to let them out into the house. It’s not like I can’t go back to sleep, and not like I have to get up and be at work or anything, right?
I’ll take “Things I never expected to see in this lifetime without a lot of hissing and growling on Miz Poo’s part” for a thousand, Alex.
Seriously. Tommy needed a place to sleep, he saw a bit of room in Miz Poo’s bed, and he climbed right in. She moved over a little and completely ignored him. No hissing, no growling, no hysterical swatting. It’s a Christmas miracle!
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Previously 2007: When one has to peck the ground for bugs and worms, one gets mud on one’s beak. 2006: So that’s the story of my search for the perfect bra, and how I found it. 2005: I probably have a brain tumor. 2004: I swear, my Grinchly heart grew three sizes right then and there. 2003: A tree with glass ornaments? In a house with five cats?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry. 2000: I told Fred we should hire her out to the local police agencies and she could tell them when someone looks like a “drug person.” 1999: Fred and I came to an agreement last night. The end of March, I’m going off the birth control, and we’re going to start trying to get pregnant. (HahahahahahaHAHA! My, how times have changed!)
I live in Los Angeles and have recently been fostering dogs through a rescue called Paw’d Squad. They rescue cats and dogs. Here in L.A. there are many abused/mishandled Rottweilers and Pit Bulls. I am currently fostering my third Rottweiler. His name is Jeffrey. He was rescued when he was just about dead from starvation … Continue reading “12-12-08”
I live in Los Angeles and have recently been fostering dogs through a rescue called Paw’d Squad. They rescue cats and dogs. Here in L.A. there
are many abused/mishandled Rottweilers and Pit Bulls. I am currently fostering my third Rottweiler. His name is Jeffrey. He was rescued when he was just about dead from starvation and mange. Please check him out on the Paw’d Squad website. Also please read this and check out his pictures.
(Jeffrey, before.)
The reason I am asking you to take a look is because I have noticed you putting good charitable causes up on your journal so that your readers can donate if they want to. I am sure people would be
interested in Jeffrey’s plight. I would certainly appreciate it, as would Jeffrey and his non-profit rescue. Please tell people who donate to reference Vituperation /Bitchypoo so we can log how much gets donated.
By the way, Jeffrey has been with me for three weeks now. He is getting better and better every day. He has food, cozy beds, a roof over his head, toys, medicine and most importantly…love. None of which he has had before. He is kind and gentle, even with my nineteen year old cat Casper.
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Hey, Huntsville/ Madison area residents – buy a toy, get a free haircut!
We’re running a Christmas toy drive! If you bring in a new unwrapped toy in it’s original box for Toys forTots on Monday, December 15th from 9 to 5, you get a free haircut! Stop on by for a great new look for Christmas and a chance to brighten someone else’s life. Appointments recommended, but we will serve on a first come-first serve basis. Merry Christmas!!
A Cut in Time is located on Wall-Triana Highway in Madison. Want to drop off a toy or two and not get a cut? You can do that, too!
(Thanks to Katherine for the heads-up!)
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If you go to this web site, you can pick out a thank you card and Xerox will print it and it will be sent to a soldier that is currently serving in Iraq . You can’t pick out who gets it, but it will go to a member of the armed services with your name and town.
It has been raining like a motherfucker here, and yesterday afternoon about half the back forty was under a few inches of water. The chickens were thrilled.
The area right around the coop wasn’t under water, but they didn’t have to venture far to stomp through puddles, and I was actually surprised at how many of them were standing around knee-deep in the water. I was under the impression that chickens don’t like to be wet at all, but they seemed to be handling it pretty well.
I had to go across the ditch late in the afternoon to check on them, and though I was wearing boots that come to right under my knees, I was afraid they weren’t going to be tall enough. They were – just – so I didn’t end up with boots full of water. Thank god, ’cause that was some cold-ass water.
The parka that was handed down to me when my nephew outgrew it, a Columbia parka (which I’m wearing in this picture here), came in mighty handy when it came to keeping the rain off of me yesterday.
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I actually didn’t get home yesterday until around noon. I did my morning stint at the pet store, trained a new volunteer who’s taking over Thursday mornings, went to Amazon and killed some time, went back to the pet store to buy some food (which was dumb, because they’re on holiday hours ’til the 23rd and the store was actually open when I left), went to Michael’s to buy some fake poinsettias for the front porch (among other things), went over to Goody’s to browse, went by the post office (99% of the Christmas cards are mailed!), then came home and unloaded the car.
Naturally, the minute I pulled into the driveway, it went from a desultory drizzle to a fucking Noah-and-the-ark downpour, and OF FUCKING COURSE when the weather is like this you cannot just put your goddamn key in the lock and open it, you have to turn the key with one hand and pull on the door with the other so the goddamn lock will turn and so by the time I got the goddamn door open I’d dropped half of what I was carrying, so I flung the door open, bellowed “JESUS GODDAMN FUCKING CHRIST ALMIGHTY”, and kicked all my packages across the room.
Cats scattered in every direction.
With the car unloaded and most of the stuff I’d bought piled on the table (thank god we never use that table, I don’t know where I’d put all my crap otherwise), I headed back out to visit my beloved Publix.
And it was every bit the glorious experience I’d imagined. I managed to refrain – barely – from kissing all the Publix employees square on the mouth, but believe you me I WANTED to. Despite the fact that the store was packed with other area residents who LOVE PUBLIX BECAUSE IT ROCKS, I was out of there in no time flat.
I do believe I would marry that store, if it’d have me.
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Spoilers for the latest episode of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Skip this section if you haven’t seen it yet (or aren’t interested)!
Six minutes into this episode, I had a heart attack when it was revealed that Jeanna paid EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS for her bedroom linen. There’s not even any FURNITURE involved in that sum! You can get a good used CAR for that kind of money. THAT IS MADNESS.
When Jeanna said that about Matt having the perfect body and being great in bed IN FRONT OF KARA, I howled. I think Kara wanted to run screaming from the table. I can’t stand hearing about how Matt is mean to Jeanna. I don’t think she should let him stay with her when he’s up to visit the kids – she needs space, and he’s SUCH an asshole. Jeanna’s got such pretty eyes, I wish I had silvery blue eyes like that.
Vicki and the “Woo hooooooooooo!”s are going to be the death of me.
Lauri and George have 7 kids between them? How did I not realize there were so many?? Josh is struggling with a heroin addiction – that is some scary stuff, I really feel bad for Lauri. It’s got to be heartbreaking to watch your child go through that. I’m not surprised that Lauri opted to leave the show – I think she made it clear last week that she’s kind of over the cattiness and drama and I don’t think that the publicity the show brings to Josh’s life does him any good.
Wine-tasting looks borrrrrring (it probably doesn’t help that I don’t like wine!), but the grape-stomping looked kind of fun. It was nice to see Vicki and Don actually relax a little bit together. I did NOT need to see Tamra cavorting around in lingerie and I SO did not need to hear her talking about how she and Simon ‘sealed the deal’ before they met Vicki and Don for dinner. EW EW EW. (On the other hand, if I had a body like Tamra’s, I’d probably cavort in lingerie 24 hours a day!) That restaurant was weird and confusing, and I’ll stick with Applebee’s THANKS. I’m clearly not meant for high-end restaurants!
And then the part where Vicki and Tamra were picking on Don and then Vicki started crying – boy, they know how to have a good time, huh? Unnnnncomfortable!
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Now that the supercoop is finished, how about another project for Fred:
I think it would be SO COOL to have something like that in the foster room!
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I know you get asked this all the dang time, but Dave would like to know what camera you use. He loves your pictures.
I actually use two cameras – our big camera with the huge zoom lens is a Sony DSLR-A100. I use that one to take pictures of the chickens or the cats outdoors usually, but it’s such a heavy camera that I don’t take it on road trips or carry it around in my purse.
The one I carry around in my purse is a Sony DSC-W300. I take the majority of my pictures with that one, especially the ones on road trips, or upstairs with the kittens. It’s quicker to use, and I like the pictures I get with it.
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OMG!!!! I got my Daisy (her name was Sylvia) from Paw’d Squad! I adopted her back in March of 2006! She is the love of my life! She has her own blog, and everything. She also has a face book account and we have been posting on Jefferys page!
I’m surprised Joe Bob’s not a toy thief. That boy smiles too damn much to NOT be a criminal.
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I swear I heard the angels sing the first time I walked through the doors of my new Super Target. I adore that place. We have Trader Joes, Marsh (locally owned and very nice thank you)and Kroger as our big grocery stores. I need Hannafords apparently. And what is Peapod?
I am VERY jealous of the fact that you’re close to Trader Joe’s. I’ve never been there, but I wanna visit! The closest one’s in Nashville. I smell a road trip in my future.
Peapod‘s the online grocery shopping site. It doesn’t deliver in our area, unfortunately, or I’m sure I’d be all over that!
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That ho shops at Safeway in Edmonton Alberta too. In the express lane, with a cheque and yapping with her friend and rearranging the items in and out of her little old lady cart.
Bitch please.
I suspect that woman has doppelgangers all OVER the world, existing solely to cause aneurysms and spread hate and anger wherever she wanders.
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I agree with Christina N, above – “While you’re waiting for radio-fetcher/battery-decision-maker to get back, let’s go ahead and ring my purchase up instead of wasting everyone’s time. It’s only a few items, so even if Other Customer does come back before we’re done, she won’t have to wait too long.” Not a question, a statement.
You know, I would have considered saying something like that, but I honestly never expected that the checkout process would last so freakin’ long – I kept thinking it was allllllllmost over, and yet it dragged on and on and on.
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What’s wrong with Porkkly Dorkkly? I mean, I know your last visit was painful but it can’t always be bad like that, can it? Or is it that Publix is just wonderful in comparison? I haven’t been to a Porkkly Dorkkly in decades and I’ve never been to a Publix, so I was just wondering.
It’s partly that the store sucks (last time I was in Porkkly Dorkkly, they were out of onions. ONIONS. Who the hell runs out of onions?) and partly that Publix is so awesome that Porkkly Dorkkly suffers by comparison.
(I do have to admit that if Porkkly Dorkkly has a really good sale, I’ll likely force myself to stop by and stock up!)
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Question for Friday – what is your favorite fitness magazine? I am looking for a xmas present for my sister.
I think the only fitness magazine I subscribe to these days is Self, and I really, really like it. I used to read Women’s Health, but if I recall correctly it tends to be so full of ads that there was no real content to the magazine.
Anyone else have a fitness magazine suggestion?
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Oh, I have a horror story. I sold real estate for a few years. Agents would sometimes send me e-mails with info for my clients — and sometimes there would be catty, nasty comments made by the realtor about my clients or theirs. (Real estate can be very high pressure and people can go a little insane when selling or buying a house. I think agents sometimes vented by being bitchy — I never did!!! I appreciated my clients!) So I would edit out the nastiness about the client and forward the e-mail on with only the pertinent info that the client needed to know, (dates, money amounts, etc.)
Little did I know that when I made the edits and forwarded the e-mail, the ORIGINAL E-MAIL SENT TO ME WAS ATTACHED. So the clients could read my edited e-mail and then the nasty e-mail sent to me by the other agent. We had an archaic e-mail system at the time that didn’t save a copy of the e-mail being sent, so it took a fairly long time for me to figure out what was happening. If I recall right, one day I cc’d myself on something I sent a client and I figured it out. I felt really sorry for the clients who read mean things about themselves. No one ever said anything, though.
and
That reminds of a time when I sent a very smartass remark regarding a coworker to THAT ACTUAL COWORKER! I’d absentmindedly put her name in the address book instead of the intended recipient. OMG, I had to pretend like it was a joke. Luckily, she seemed to buy it. I still cringe when I think about it though.
Ohhhh, these stories just make me cringe! But at the same time it’s kind of reassuring to know that I’m not alone!
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Relevant to absolutely nothing (but cats), this is too funny; my kids and I quote the end every day!
Too funny!
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Have you thought about guineas? I know those little mothers are LOUD. They squawk when someone drives up and they squawk when something (dog, etc) gets close. As for protecting, I don’t know, just know that they’re some kind of “watch dog”.
and
I think someone mentioned guinea hens (I probably spelled that wrong). My uncle had quite a few on his ranch and as I remember they were quite dumb and continually got run over because they would run toward cars. Possibly trying to be protective but it just didn’t work out. You had to drive in quite a long way on a dirt road to get to the ranch house and those birds would literally lunge toward any cars. They would see their bird friends get run over and then they would do it too. Just a vicious cycle of poor dumb guinea hens – possibly they really aren’t all that dumb, maybe he had a bad batch!
Kamikaze guinea hens!
My concern with guinea hens is that they’d be so obnoxiously loud that it would disturb our next door neighbor, and she’s such a good neighbor that I don’t want to annoy her.
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I see you have a control knob on your cute little piggie [humidifier] – does it make a big difference between the different settings mist production wise? I want to get one for when the kids rooms for when they are sick, but their rooms are so small that using a regular vaporizer with their doors closed makes horrible condensation (read: indoor rain) on the ceiling and walls. (We 2 have naughty cats that drive the kids nuts at night, so we keep their doors closed.)
Yep, the control knob makes a big difference – when it’s turned all the way up, the steam shoots out the pig’s ears. When it’s turned all the way down, steam barely comes out the pig’s ears.
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do you ever get lonely since the spud left?
Actually, not really. I miss the spud, but even when she lived here, she was gone a lot. We text and talk frequently, so I get to know what she’s up to.
I’m really looking forward to her visiting next month, though!
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We had a serious discussion about the Christmas budget. The adults agreed to scale back and we (with my son’s approval) decided to take 10% of the budget to buy food for the animal shelter. He helped buy and deliver it this past weekend. We are certainly doing other things as well, but the shelters here are really in need of donations – more than we are in need of more stuff.
This is SUCH a good idea!
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Hey Robyn. Just a word of caution-anyone who has cats should definitely steer clear of liquid potpourri. It is sweet like anti-freeze and once ingested is deadly. My orange tabby who looks just like Suggie got into this a few years back and ended up with a fever of 105 and a hole burned through his tongue. I threw that shit out faster than you can say HUGE VET BILL!!!!
That’s some scary stuff, thanks for the warning!
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It appears that Tommy isn’t particular about which orange cat he snuggles with. The other night Lem climbed into the cat bed with Tommy, and Tommy was all “Okay, I guess you need a bath!”, and he licked and licked and licked Lem.
And then Lem apparently got too big for his britches and required a smackdown, and Tommy was only too happy to comply.
Then Lem stomped off, and Tommy stretched out alone in his bed for a few minutes of uninterrupted slumber.
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Previously 2007: I’m telling you, the book-buying thing. It’s an illness! 2006: I did a lot of nothing yesterday 2005: (If you must know, it’s the “Tinferl” that really hit my funny bone. I don’t know. Don’t look at me like that. Shaddup.) 2004: Those two just make me shudder. And not in a good way. 2003: “Hey!” he thought to himself. “I think that might be the same bird and the same feeder!” 2002: “That’s okay, Bessie. I hate you sometimes, too,” he said.
2001: No entry. 2000: A blue spark leapt from my tender, sensitive pinky finger to the door of the Jeep in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and I all but screamed. 1999: But if I end up MIA, y’all know where to tell the cops to look…
I live in Los Angeles and have recently been fostering dogs through a rescue called Paw’d Squad. They rescue cats and dogs. Here in L.A. there are many abused/mishandled Rottweilers and Pit Bulls. I am currently fostering my third Rottweiler. His name is Jeffrey. He was rescued when he was just about dead from starvation … Continue reading “12-11-08”
I live in Los Angeles and have recently been fostering dogs through a rescue called Paw’d Squad. They rescue cats and dogs. Here in L.A. there
are many abused/mishandled Rottweilers and Pit Bulls. I am currently fostering my third Rottweiler. His name is Jeffrey. He was rescued when he was just about dead from starvation and mange. Please check him out on the Paw’d Squad website. Also please read this and check out his pictures.
(Jeffrey, before.)
The reason I am asking you to take a look is because I have noticed you putting good charitable causes up on your journal so that your readers can donate if they want to. I am sure people would be
interested in Jeffrey’s plight. I would certainly appreciate it, as would Jeffrey and his non-profit rescue. Please tell people who donate to reference Vituperation /Bitchypoo so we can log how much gets donated.
By the way, Jeffrey has been with me for three weeks now. He is getting better and better every day. He has food, cozy beds, a roof over his head, toys, medicine and most importantly…love. None of which he has had before. He is kind and gentle, even with my nineteen year old cat Casper.
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So, I never did make it to Publix yesterday. You know how a body at rest wants to stay at rest?
This body was WAY at rest yesterday and so I decided to stay in for the day, visit with the chickens once or twice, look for the bridge that got washed away in the great rain of Tuesday night (it’s a small bridge that goes over the ditch between the front of our property and the back forty. I never did find the damn thing.), snuggle with the cats, and watch TV.
I don’t know if it’s the rain or the briefly warm weather or what, but the birds were out in full force yesterday. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many sparrows and tufted titmice (titmouses?) at one time. I really like watching them flit around under the bird feeders, fly across the back yard, and generally drive the cats nuts.
Also I don’t know why it was, but the chickens were a lot more willing to explore their space yesterday. They tend to generally stay pretty close to the coop, but yesterday they were spread all across the back forty. We tend to see fewer hawks when the weather’s overcast like it was yesterday, so perhaps they felt safer. Or all that rain was bringing up the worms. Whatever, it was nice to look out and see them all spread out.
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Yesterday morning Fred and I were talking about someone we know, and at one point Fred said “Well, you know, I wonder if she ever stops and thinks This isn’t how I expected my life to turn out and that’s why it’s so hard for her.”
Oddly, earlier in the morning I’d been half-listening to the radio station as I was getting dressed and the DJ (do they still call them DJs, even? The “morning radio personality”, how’s that?) talked about how her little girl had told her that she was going to marry some boy in her class when they grew up and they were going to move to Germany. And the DJ laughed and said “Well, I figure it’s a better life plan than anything I ever came up with, so she should go for it!” At the time I thought “Hmmm. You know, I don’t think I ever really had a life plan.”
So when Fred said This isn’t how I expected my life to turn out, I said “Did your life turn out like you expected?” He said “Not at all, but I’m pretty damn happy anyway.”
Turns out that Fred intended for most of his young life to grow up and be a scientist, with the test tubes and the white coat. That lasted until he touched his first computer, it was love at first sight, and he always knew he’d grow up to be a computer programmer. I know he never expected that, at the age of 41
(HOLY SHIT I’M MARRIED TO AN OLD MAN)
he’d be living on 4 1/2 acres with ten cats, ninety chickens, and occasionally a pig or two.
Any life plans I had for myself when I was a kid were kind of vague and ill-formed. I wanted to be a teacher for a while, then a veterinarian, then an orthopedic surgeon, but when it came down to it, I had no real calling to do any of those jobs, and I sure as hell never had a plan to accomplish any of that. (I would have been a kickass orthopedic surgeon, though.)
I think maybe I’m lucky that I never had a life plan, because now I’m not mourning that my life didn’t turn out the way I expected. Maybe I’m unlucky too, though, because I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
Does anyone’s life follow the path they expected it to? Did yours?
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Brudderly love.
I just love the fact that even as adults, Sugarbutt and Tom Cullen adore snuggling with each other. Well – at least until someone gets too vigorous with the grooming, gets smacked in the face, and they stomp away from each other.
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Previously 2007: Mister Boogers regarded me 2006: How these cats aren’t the size of Tubby, I will never know.
2005: No entry. 2004: And if I ever get the urge to go shopping at the mall on a Saturday two weeks before Christmas, I’ll lay down until it goes away. 2003: Thank god I’m not famous. I could handle being followed around by the papparazzi, but live interviews on the TV and radio? Fuck THAT. 2002: My favorite Christmas entry, ever. Chock-full of the Bitchypoo Christmas Spirit. 2001: Of course my world revolves around me and the people I care about. And yours revolves around you. Except when it revolves around me. 2000: I think they should hire me to play his girlfriend – the stripper with a heart of gold – because I just love that man right to pieces
1999: No entry.
I’m not sure that I’m actually the fire-making prodigy I’d like to think I am. I’ve set the smoke detector off twice in the past week and I’m still not sure why the house got so smoky. The good part is that the smoke detector is tied into our security system so rather than having … Continue reading “12-10-08”
I’m not sure that I’m actually the fire-making prodigy I’d like to think I am. I’ve set the smoke detector off twice in the past week and I’m still not sure why the house got so smoky.
The good part is that the smoke detector is tied into our security system so rather than having to get up on a chair and unhook the smoke detector and yank the batteries out to turn it off, I can just input the code into the security box (whatever the fuck it’s called) and turn it off that way.
The bad part is that I didn’t know that the first time the smoke detector went off, so I got up on a chair, unhooked the smoke detector, yanked the batteries out to turn it off, and still had to turn off the alarm on the security system.
I didn’t make a fire yesterday because it was in the 60s. Last night it was supposed to get down into the 40s, but it’s in the mid-50s right now, so I don’t think today will be a fire day either.
It rained like hell last night and a third of the back forty is under a few inches of water. The chickens aren’t complaining, though – they’re walking around drinking out of the puddles and splashing through puddles and kicking at the ground to get at the bugs the rain brought out.
Winter in the south. Ugh.
The good part is that it’s practically over; come February it’ll start warming up again while y’all in the colder parts of the country are still all bundled up.
The bad part is that I’m still so far from the ocean.
I think we oughta move to Florida, personally.
Except that moving all those animals would be the motherfucking death of me.
(Besides, I kinda like it here. Except when it gets cold. Of course, “cold” is subjective. I don’t know how on earth I ever made it through the cold-ass Maine winters, I’m such a delicate flower.)
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I’m beside myself with excitement.
Wait.
Let me try that again.
I AM BESIDE MYSELF WITH EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As of this morning, I never ever ever have to shop at the local grocery store chain – let’s call it Porkkly Dorkkly – ever ever again. They’re opening a Publix in Nearville, and I’ve been eyeballing it eagerly these past few months, afraid that it would just never ever open, but the day has come! My beloved Publix has come to a location only five minutes from me, and I will shop there all the days of my life.
Yesterday morning I actually had to venture into town to go to Porkkly Dorkkly because Fred was completely out of cottage cheese, which he eats every morning as part of his lunch, and I couldn’t put it off ’til this morning.
It’s like the universe wanted to make sure I knew how very much I was going to love shopping at Publix and how very grateful I should be that I wouldn’t have to shop at Porkkly Dorkkly again. I went through the store quickly, picked up cottage cheese, oatmeal, and two loaves of bread. And then I went to the one lane that was open. There was only one woman in the process of being checked out, she didn’t have many items, so I figured I’d be out of there pretty quickly.
Not so much.
First, she had to write a check, and did you know that you can’t start writing at check at ALL until you know what the total is? Nope, you certainly can’t write in the payee’s name or the date or sign the check. You must know exactly what the total is, and THEN the check-writing process can begin.
Also, you must not have your license out and ready to be presented. Instead, once the check is written you must have to dig around in your purse for your license, to be held out to the cashier, who must punch the number into the cash register, AND SO ON.
But I’ve had to suffer through that sort of thing before, no big deal, even though I wanted OUT of there, so I amused myself by reading the front of the magazines.
So, items rung up, check slowly written out, license presented to cashier, all that accomplished – which must mean it’s my turn, right?
NOT SO FAST, SPARKY.
Instead, a conversation about weather radios commenced, and did you know that they sell weather radios at Porkkly Dorkkly? Indeed they do. They keep them behind the customer service desk, and so when customers decide they want a weather radio and it’s too early in the morning for someone to be at Customer Service permanently, someone must be paged because it appears that the cashier cannot leave her cash register to walk the fifteen feet to the weather radios, grab one, and bring it back.
So someone was paged, and she showed up and grabbed the weather radio and walked it over to the cash register, and the radio-fetcher went off to finish unloading the delivery truck or whatever she’d been doing, and guess what?
The customer wanted TWO radios. Didn’t she mention that? HA HA HA I’m so scattered this morning! LOL! ROFL! Time to page the radio-fetcher again!
Radio-fetcher looked less than pleased to be called again, and she stomped behind the customer service desk and stomped over to the cash register and plunked down the weather radio and asked “Anything else?”, and the customer and the cashier allowed that they thought that’d about do it.
And the second radio was rung up and the total was given, and the laborious check-writing process was underway and I could just about taste my freedom.
But wait! WAIT!
Did you know that these weather radios take batteries? They take batteries, and they don’t COME with batteries, that is such a gyp, I know. But the batteries are right there – see that sign three aisles away – and you might want to grab some batteries for your radios, they’d certainly be no good without batteries, right?
LOL! ROFL!
Guess what? Cashier can’t see anywhere on the box where it says what kind of batteries the radios take! So customer is three aisles away yelling “What kind do I need? How many?” and cashier is yelling “Hold on…!”
Time to page radio-fetcher! Radio-fetcher is pleased to be called away from what she was doing yet again, let me tell you. Radio-fetcher growls that the radios take three triple-A batteries each. Cashier yells this information to customer. Customer takes a LONG FUCKING TIME to decide that the big pack of batteries is the financially responsible choice. Customer wanders back to cash register.
The check-writing process begins yet again.
Customer and cashier chat it up. LOL! ROFL! O happy day, when I get to spend fifteen minutes waiting to buy two loaves of bread, cottage cheese, and oatmeal in the store that I am loathing more as every minute passes.
Customer finally finishes paying and wanders off. I answer the cashier’s “Good morning, how are you?” with NOT my usual perky “Great! How are you?”, but rather with a tight-lipped smile.
I don’t need to write a check, buy a weather radio, or wander around looking at batteries, so my checking-out process takes about a minute and a half.
On my way out the door, I silently wish Porkkly Dorkkly a nice life. You know, for the two days it takes for area residents to realize that Publix KICKS ASS and Porkkly Dorkkly quietly folds and goes out of business.
I’m going to Publix later today, and I don’t even need anything. I just want to bask in the glorious glow that is Publix and be happy in the knowledge that I will never have to visit Porkkly Dorkkly again.
(Which is not to say that I won’t if they have some good sales – just that I don’t HAVE to if I don’t want to.)
And when I am dancing through the aisles of Publix, I will probably stop and hug every Publix employee who greets me. I might even kiss ’em square on the lips.
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“I just wanted to walk across that lady’s desk and give her a head-butt, but that mean old gray cat with the stumpy tail growled and growled at me and I was SKEERED!”
Previously 2007: It’s a pisser that the things that are the least fun – cleaning, laundry – are a neverending cycle.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry. 2004: I want to marry you, Consumer Reports. 2003: The Bean’s nickname for today is “Stanley Rotten.” 2002: Xmas meme. 2001: And then Miz Poo SMACKS him again.
2000: No entry. 1999: I’m just saying.
If you don’t usually follow the links at the bottom of the entry to previous years’ entries, you should totally make an exception and go back and read last year’s entry. I just read it and it cracked me UP. & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & … Continue reading “12/9/08”
If you don’t usually follow the links at the bottom of the entry to previous years’ entries, you should totally make an exception and go back and read last year’s entry. I just read it and it cracked me UP.
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So yesterday morning I decided that I would get my ass in gear, and I would cut and paste all the names and addresses of people who’d requested Crooked Acres holiday cards from us into Open Office, so I could print out the labels. I’d already done about the first 60 cards Sunday night, and I wanted to get the rest of them done so that for the next couple of weeks (uh… 11 days! Request ’em now, guys!) I can just sign and address them as each request comes in.
Open Office, by the way, is annoying the hell out of me. I never had a problem with Word in the past, labels always printed out as they were supposed to, but the Open Office version of Word won’t let me format all the labels at the same time, I have to do them one by one AND THAT IS A PAIN IN THE ASS, and then I have to make sure that I put a blank line at the top of each address label, or the address gets cut off at the top. I have ordered the newest version of Word in an attempt to save myself the stress-induced aneurysm.
So I spent a couple of hours cutting and pasting, and the end was in sight when I came across several emails in a row that were from people who frequent the same message board where Fred likes to hang out.
Someone named Wayne included his address and added that he always enjoys Fred’s levity and point of view on the message board. A lot of people on that board (though certainly not all of them) don’t like Fred because some of them are, shall we say, quick to jump on the “OMG!” wagon, jump to conclusions, and if Fred should point out, in a level-headed way, that what they believe to be the truth might not be the complete and utter truth and back up what he’s saying with evidence, they accuse him of being a liberal terrorist devil-worshiping baby-eating serial killer. Since Wayne is apparently someone who enjoys Fred’s point of view (and levity), I wanted to forward the email to him so he’d know that someone on that message board appreciates him.
(I suspect that plenty of people like Fred, they just tend not to be as vocal as the ones who loathe him.)
So I hit “forward” and I typed “Wade lurves you! :)”, and then I hit “send.”
And then I realized that I hadn’t hit “forward.” I’d hit “reply.” And the man who was nice enough to let Fred know that he enjoyed Fred’s levity (and point of view) was going to get the email I’d intended for Fred’s eyes, and he probably was going to think I was mocking him.
I reeled around the room, clutching my head and moaning aloud at my idiocy and calling myself every name in the book, then quickly typed another email to Wayne, letting him know that I’d meant that email for Fred, because I’d wanted to tease him.
And then I called Fred and told him what an idiot I am and suggested that maybe he should email Wayne as well and apologize for marrying such a dumbass. Fred laughed and laughed and laaaaaaaaughed, because it’s always funny when someone else is the idiot, isn’t it?
A minute later, I got an email back from Wayne who said “Well, that’s OK. Just let him know that I do lurve him. Have a great day!”
WHEW! So Wayne didn’t take offense and all is well.
I suppose it could have been a lot worse!
Moral of the story: pay attention to what you’re doing, dumbass!
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I made haluski last night as a side dish to go with our pork chops. It wasn’t as good as Shirley’s was, but it was pretty good nonetheless. I basically used this recipe, though I did NOT use a cup and a half of butter; I used about a quarter cup of butter, and I think next time I’ll go with half butter and half Brummel and Brown.
Fred liked it too, though he immediately started suggesting ways to improve the recipe because he is Fred. He suggested less noodles and more cabbage next time, which I’m down with. And then he suggested adding carrots. And brussels sprouts.
Given that brussels sprouts taste like mini heads of cabbage to me, I think adding them to haluski would be kind of redundant.
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Something has amused Miss Marion.
More kitten pictures – and a short entry about how Miz Poo is mellowing in her old age – over at Love & Hisses.
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Smilin’ Joe has him a box.
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Previously 2007: Miss Stinky Seethes.
2006: No entry. 2005: It’s the little things that amuse us, obviously. 2004: Mister Boogers does his Donald Trump impression 2003: FUCKING spam. 2002: Are you an innie or an outie?
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry. 1999: God, the smell.
Man, this weekend went by in a flash, and I didn’t get hardly anything done that I’d intended. I’m twitchy and feel unsettled and like there’s something I’m forgetting to do, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it is. I got 9/10ths of my Christmas shopping done over the weekend, just … Continue reading “12/8/08”
Man, this weekend went by in a flash, and I didn’t get hardly anything done that I’d intended. I’m twitchy and feel unsettled and like there’s something I’m forgetting to do, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it is.
I got 9/10ths of my Christmas shopping done over the weekend, just need to get a few more things, and I’m all set. My parents told us not to get them anything this year, and that had a snowball effect wherein I said to Fred “Why don’t you tell your parents not to get us anything this year, too, we’ll just get stuff for the kids?”, because it’s kind of ridiculous – we give them gift cards, they give us gift cards, what’s the point? As adults, if there’s something we want or need, we usually go and get it, and I know pretty much everyone else is the same.
We’re getting presents for the kids (this includes Fred’s niece and nephew and their significant others, even though they’re not really “kids”, they’ll probably be “kids” ’til they’re 40 or so!) and calling it good enough. It takes the pressure off the Christmas season, for sure. Fred and I aren’t giving each other gifts either – some years we do, more often we don’t. We’re old and boring and get each other gifts through the year, so why add to the pressure at Christmas?
I don’t even have to get a lot of stuff for the Spud – she wants a new phone, so when she comes to visit in January we’re going to the T-M0bile store and getting her a new one. I did want her to have a few small things to open from us at Christmas, though, and when she asked if I had the other Twilight books, I told her I’d get them for her for Christmas.
(Yes, the child is into the Twilight thing. ::DESPAIR:: )
So anyway, I’ve made a lot of headway as far as Christmas goes, but I still feel unsettled and twitchy like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I have to admit, I think it might be the fact that I went back on the birth control pill. I started it the Sunday after my last period started, and I’ve had two weeks of straight breakthrough bleeding. It’s more annoying than troublesome, but man. It’s REALLY annoying. If it doesn’t stop within the week, I’ll probably go off the pill. The only reason I went back on it was because I was tired of having my period every month like clockwork, not ’cause I wanted to bleed MORE, for the love of god.
Anyway.
So the weekend consisted mostly of doing laundry, running errands with Fred, going to Lacon Trade Days on Saturday (basically a flea market with animals on the side) to look at geese and turkeys, both of which are known to protect chickens. I’m not anti-turkeys, but I’d rather bring them up from babies rather than try to introduce adults to the flock. I am, however, anti-geese.
I loathe geese.
LOATHE THEM. With the hissing and the attitude, I cannot stand goddamn geese. It doesn’t help that a few years ago we were feeding ducks and geese at the University of Alabama and I wasn’t fast enough with the crackers for one asshole of a goose so s/he BIT MY ASS.
We didn’t end up buying any turkeys or geese, to my relief, though we did buy a hooded sweatshirt for me (I was FUCKING FREEZING) and some socks for him, and a bag of nice-looking onions. I would have been willing to hang out and look at more stuff, but did I mention that I was fucking freezing? Because I was. And I DO NOT LIKE TO BE COLD, thank you.
We stopped at the movie store on the way home and rented several movies (and the last couple of discs of last season’s Dexter), and then puttered around the house for the rest of Saturday.
Sunday we had to go out early in the morning to buy some fencing stuff, and then Fred spent part of the day working on the fence around the back forty. At one point I looked out and he was squatted down by one part of the fence, and there were about forty chickens gathered around him inspecting his work.
They crack me up.
I went out and held t-posts while Fred pounded them into the ground, and then in the afternoon we ran to Nearville to the pet store and made a few more stops. After dinner, we went back out so Fred could get more fencing stuff and I could look around, then we went to L0we’s.
Why, you are asking me, did we go to L0we’s?
Well, let me tell you. This year, I decided that it was ridiculous to have a fireplace and a shed full of seasoned firewood and not use it. So I declared that this was the year that I’d make fires in the fireplace on cold days and keep them going, and so every day for the past four or five days I’ve been making fires.
And kicking ass at it, if I may say so myself.
But the screen in front of the fireplace is a freestanding screen, not one of those ones attached to the fireplace, and it’s a screen the people who sold us this house left behind. And as is usual, it was a piece of shit. Every time I picked it up to move it out of the way, something fell off of it. Yesterday morning, it fell into two pieces.
Clearly, we needed a new screen.
So we stood in L0we’s, and I dithered about which screen I wanted, and finally I chose the mid-range one, and I’ll tell you this – I didn’t fully appreciate how much of a cheap and flimsy piece of shit the old screen was until I took the new one out of the box.
With all this errand-running and working outside, I think Fred was ready for bed by about 7:00. We watched the last two episodes of Dexter, and then we watched The Amazing Race, and then we watched My Name is Earl, and then we went to bed.
So, yeah. Exciting weekend.
(I’m not complaining!)
I was going to go to the mall today, but I need a day where I can just putter around the house, so I’m going to do that today.
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I love my Crane humidifier (thank you, Sara, for the suggestion!). Not only is it adorable, it’s very quiet. And the fact that the steam comes out of the pig’s ears is a bonus.
In these videos, Rick was in charge of running the camera, and he thought to himself “What angle would be the least flattering for these two women?”, and then he ran with it.
DAMN YOU RICK!
There’s a point in one of the videos (the second one, I think) where Nance mentions that I mocked a blogger’s child. I didn’t say anything NASTY about the child, it was just mildly rude (and it wasn’t about their appearance, it was a personality thing), and no I won’t tell you who it was, but I’ll tell you that I guarantee you they don’t read me, and I don’t think they read Nance either.
SO IT WASN’T YOUR CHILD.
Okay?
Okay.
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Sheriff Mama keeps an eye on the back yard. She sees what’s going on and she disapproves.
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Previously 2007: Stinkerbelle: “I have put my stamp of love upon him, and now I shall lay here and seethe with hatred for those hussies who think they can have him. THEY CANNOT.” 2006: Newton (full name: Newton “Newtie” McNewterton, the salty country kitty) is pretty, yet aloof. It drives the wimmins CRAYZEE. 2005: “Us”? Who’s this “us” kemosabe? 2004: I suppose I need to actually start buying lottery tickets to make these dreams come true. 2003: And also because you Canadians are so cool that I want to canoodle with each and every one of you.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry. 2000: God bless the internet and online merchants, god bless their little black hearts. 1999: More Christmas talk.
It’s that time of year! If you want a holiday card from Crooked Acres, go here and follow the directions. I will absolutely send cards to other countries. If you’d like to send me a card (definitely not required, but always appreciated), you can send it to PO Box 565, Madison, Alabama, 35758. & & … Continue reading “12/5/08”
It’s that time of year! If you want a holiday card from Crooked Acres, go here and follow the directions. I will absolutely send cards to other countries. If you’d like to send me a card (definitely not required, but always appreciated), you can send it to PO Box 565, Madison, Alabama, 35758.
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Get yer calendars!!!
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It got so cold yesterday that I finally gave up, went out to the wood shed, got a pile of wood, and made a fire. I’m apparently a fire-building prodigy, because that fire was AWESOME.
Now that I know I can build fires with not much trouble, I’m going to be a fire-building fool.
The only problem is that I have to leave the back door cracked so the cats can go out in the back yard, and even if I just leave the door open a tiny bit, the air from outside is FRIGID and it kind of makes it pointless to build a fire.
There’s a doorway between the kitchen and laundry room, and there was originally a door there. We took it down because it kind of got in the way, but I think Fred’s going to put it back up this weekend and put a cat door in it. That should hold back at least some of the cold air. I hope.
(Yes, I could just make the cats stay inside when it’s 25 degrees outside, but they like going outside SO much, and they get SO miserable when they can’t, and they are SO spoiled rotten that I can’t bring myself to abuse them so.)
Do you think you could get the recipe for the popcorn from Nance? I’ve been looking for a good one for some time.
Anyone who wants the popcorn recipe, email me and I’ll send it along to you.
Let me say here, though, that I brought a big-ass tin of the popcorn home with me and His Majesty didn’t care for it. I still thought it was good, but I’ll admit that it’s best when it’s fresh.
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Silly me, I assumed that when chickens roosted they would “sit” facing the same direction. It’s so nice of you to give Newtles such a nice, private place to sleep. Too bad you will need to wash the towels regularly.
I always thought they’d face the same way, but when you think about it, it makes sense that they’d face opposite ways – I bet they fit together better that way, and stay warmer!
You think too highly of my housekeeping skills. I don’t wash those towels regularly – I just don’t take from the top of the pile! (Those are extra towels, ones we use to dry off cats or the floor if we’ve gone out in the rain and subsequently dripped water all over the floor. They’re not the ones we use after showering or anything.)
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When I was a vet tech we had one [a Great Pyrenees] come in that had gotten into antifreeze, VERY DEADLY, and the treatment then was iv alcohol. That’s right, iv EverClear to be more specific. For 3 days we had to keep him drunk. They’re not small dogs, it was like having a drunk human to deal with. Even while he was smashed he did try to keep the concerned look going, well until he’d pass out.
I actually had no idea that there was a treatment for pets that had gotten into antifreeze, I thought it was an automatic death sentence. Ya learn something new every day, eh?
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Chicken ears?! I guess I never thought of their ears before!
I know, isn’t it odd to think of chicken ears? How else would they hear the “OMIGOD THERE’S FOOD” call from the other chickens, though?
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How is it that you have no Maine accent what so ever? I spent the 8th grade in Bangor and I could barely understand what those kids were saying.
‘Cause I didn’t actually grow up in Maine. My growing-up years were spent in Canada, Indiana, Michigan and Guam, ’cause my father was in the Air Force. When I worked at LL Bean many years ago, taking orders, a caller asked why I sounded like I was from the Midwest instead of Maine. I don’t think I sound like I have any accent at all, personally.
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I curse you for telling me about Tim Tams. I went to Target today and looked for them, found them on sale, brought them back to work and proceeded to eat 1/2 the box. They are very good. Thank goodness I don’t go to Target often, but if I found my car heading in that direction I will quickly re-direct. Tim Tams are the devil!!!
I AGREE. I asked Fred yesterday if he needed anything from Target and he said “Tim Tams!”, so I bought a pack of the regular and a pack of the caramel. I behaved and didn’t eat any during the day, but once he got home and opened the pack, it was ALL OVER. (I prefer the chocolate creme to the caramel, personally.)
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I passed by the Tim Tams the other day deciding that they must be evil bits of crack best to be avoided.
Smart thinkin’! I recommend you all stay far, far away from Tim Tams. They are EVIL. It’s how Australia will end up taking over the world – we’ll all be rolling around, clutching our guts and moaning in pain, and they’ll just swoop right in and conquer us. Those wily damn Australians!
You sound softer and gentler in real life than you did in my head. I’m sure that sounds insulting but I don’t mean it to be. Maybe it’s because I have the audio image of you bellowing “Who wants snackin’?” in a not so docile voice in my head. Aaaanyway, I’ll just shut up now.
It always surprises me when I hear a blogger’s voice and they sound all sweet and girly. For some reason, in my mind most of you sound like pack-a-day whiskey drinkers.
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I don’t know why I was so surprised that you didn’t have a southern accent – this is the first time I have heard you talking and in my mind I always think you would have a southern accent, even though I know you are from the North.
I has no accent at all! I am neutral!
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I LOVE that picture of Maddie by the tree. And doesn’t Nance have the most awesome ornaments on her tree?
It was really nice to have Nance’s Christmas tree to admire and get me in the holiday mood, ’cause we won’t have a Christmas tree this year and I always like a nice Christmas tree. With ten cats, it’s just too much of a pain in the ass to put up a tree, but I’ll still have decorations scattered around the house. Nance had some really nice ornaments on her tree – including one I sent her the year she adopted Maddy, with a picture of Maddy in it, and “My first year” across the top of it. (The sock monkey’s my favorite, though!)
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You should do a video journal entry sometime (with you and/or you and Fred). That would be awesome!
I don’t even have to check with Fred to know his answer is “When hell freezes over!” He’s camera shy and doesn’t like the sound of his voice (I don’t know why – I think it’s a perfectly nice voice.)
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Is the Spud going to visit you anytime?? You must miss her.
She’s supposed to come visit in January! Yay!!!!
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Which cats are indoor/outdoor and which are only indoor and why? Are any declawed??
The only cat who doesn’t go outside is Stinkerbelle, because she’s a scaredy-cat and can’t quite figure out the cat door. The others go outside whenever the back door is open (less often when it’s as cold as it’s been lately), except for Maxi and Newt, who go outside whenever they want and are free ranging cats. (When it’s due to be especially cold, Fred will keep them inside unless they’re insistent about wanting to go out.)
We use SoftPaws on our cats to lessen the scratching issues. Well – we use them when we get around to it; it’s been a while since we had a SoftPaw session, though. The cats are actually behaving themselves and not digging at the couch, so we haven’t been in any hurry to cap them up.
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disgusting would be like, pickle/peanut butter jam. berries and spice aren’t so gross.
Is it weird that I think pickle/ peanut butter jam sounds kind of good?
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Is Nance Polish? The haluski sounds Polish. I’m from PA originally and my dad’s polish grandprents lived in Pittsburgh for a while. I will have to ask my dad and aunt if they know about the haluski. LOVE the sock monkey ornament I missed it because I was focused on Maddy. Comments are fun they offer a different take on an entry.
Nance said: I’m sure there’s some Polish in me somewhere – but Haluski is definitely a favorite ‘burgh thing because everybody around here (even the EYE-talions – hee) eat it. We also fart a lot. Snort.
For some reason, “haluski” sounds to me like some kind of fish you’d get in Minnesota, I don’t know why.
I agree about comments!
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A youtube hardehar that had me rolling in the aisle
I’ve actually seen that! Local reader Jean sent it to me, and I forgot to link to it for y’all.
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Did you watch Stephen Colbert’s christmas special? John Legend had a pretty funny song about Nutmeg!
I had NOT seen that, but it made me laugh out loud. I love Stephen Colbert.
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I want to know how to make the cinnamon rolls too!
The recipe, direct from Fred’s mouth: Make basic bread dough, roll it out, paint it with a mixture of melted butter, sugar and cinnamon (to your taste), roll it up, slice it, let it rise again, dollop more butter/ sugar/ cinnamon on top, bake at 400, 20 – 30 minutes. You may need to cover them toward the end to keep them from getting too brown.
If you see them boiling in butter, you know you’ve done it right.
(He used our bread machine to make the basic bread dough, if that helps.)
Oh my god, I WANT THAT. I might have to get that for the cats for Christmas…
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…Is no one going to address the absolute cuteness of the petite Felina ?
Such a good girl to protect her MommaNance and guard her domain. She is sooo adorable and seems to always have a “???” look on her little face. Totally squishable too.
Felina is absolutely adorable, there’s no doubt about it (especially when they dress her up!). I have to admit, by the end of my visit, if I’d walked into a room and Felina had NOT barked at me, I might have been a little bit disappointed.
Luckily, that never happened!
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So, while I was in Pennsylvania, those unappreciative little bratty kittens, who’d spent NO TIME at all downstairs before I left (or rather, Lem would come downstairs, run around, but bolt back upstairs if anyone looked at him funny), started coming downstairs.
The first night I was gone, Fred told me that Delmar had not only come downstairs, he’d actually CLIMBED UP IN FRED’S LAP AND STAYED THERE WHILE FRED WATCHED TV.
Brats.
Actually, Fred doesn’t go upstairs and hang out with the kittens nearly as much as I do, so with me being gone, Delmar was probably love-starved and thus came looking for love. Since I’ve been home, he comes downstairs every evening, and last night he climbed up into my lap a few times.
Every time I look at him, I want to squeeze the stuffing out of him. I mean, I want to squeeze them all, but especially Delmar.
“Heyyyyyy, baby, you come to this printer often? There’s puh-lenty of room for two, trust me sweet thing. You could always sit on Suggie’s lap. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to, of course. Muh-YOW!”
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Previously 2007: I assure you that if Stinkerbelle saw those hussies all snuggled up with HER MAN, she would NOT be pleased! 2006: Le sigh. 2005: no, I didn’t take anything for the pain. Then I couldn’t bitch about the pain. DUH! 2004: Yep, fuck that. 2003: The child is evil. EVIL, I say. 2002: (Close your email clients, you damn Crimson-heads. I know you lurrrve your football team and all, but really. Breaking news?) 2001: Woman of the Year. 2000: What can I say? I’m just the kinda gal who likes profanity in her daily email… 1999: “Let’s kill the Mommy bitch and eat all the canned cat food in the house, then lay around and lick the litter out from between our toes.”
Sadly, after I talked in Tuesday’s entry about how much I love the white silkie, Fred found her in the chicken yard, dead. Something had gotten her, she was half-eaten. I don’t know if it was a hawk or a stray cat or what, but I hope whatever got her killed her quickly and she … Continue reading “12/4/08”
Sadly, after I talked in Tuesday’s entry about how much I love the white silkie, Fred found her in the chicken yard, dead. Something had gotten her, she was half-eaten. I don’t know if it was a hawk or a stray cat or what, but I hope whatever got her killed her quickly and she didn’t suffer.
RIP, little silkie.
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(Snapped by my sister in Maine yesterday.)
So, I had my mammogram yesterday morning. Despite some confusion on my part – I drove right by the building, because I was looking for The Breast Center, without realizing that it’s located in a building called The Women’s Pavilion (you’d think a lightbulb would have gone off for me, but sadly no), so I drove around a little before I realized I’d passed it a couple of times. Luckily, I left a few minutes earlier than I needed to, so I wasn’t late.
This place does a LOT of mammograms apparently, because they were getting women in and out of there pretty quickly. My appointment was at 7:30 and I was out of there by 7:50.
It wasn’t painful for me – possibly because my boobs are like lemons in tube socks right now due to the weight loss (you’re welcome for that visual) and thus not so hard to flatten out. At this point in my life I’m not too terribly self-conscious about having any parts of my body handled by medical professionals, and the mammogram tech (I’m sure there’s a more correct word for her job, but I don’t know what it is) was warm and professional, so I didn’t keel over with embarrassment.
I left there, picked up some breakfast, and headed toward Madison. Fred needs new jeans, so I stopped by Kohl’s and looked for some for him, but couldn’t find them in his size. I browsed around for a little while, but ultimately ended up leaving without buying anything.
There was an empty parking space next to my car, and as I approached my car, I saw a cell phone laying there. I picked it up to see if it worked. It did, and I scrolled through the “contacts” list, but there were no obvious listings that said “Home”, and rather than start calling random people in the cell owner’s phone book and saying “I found this cell phone? In the parking lot of Kohl’s? And you were in their phone book? Any idea?”, I went back into Kohl’s and turned it in at Customer Service.
From there, I went to Publix to buy some pint-size canning jars. We may be making strawberry-habanero and raspberry-habanero jam in the next little while to sell, and we have very few pint-size jars, so I needed to see how much they cost at Publix.
I walked in the front door of Publix and a woman was getting her bags and her baby out of the cart, so I stood back, and then when she turned around, I glanced down at her baby (I’m a sucker for redheads and he was a cutie) and she and I smiled at each other, and I went to grab a cart, thinking at the same time Huh. She looked kind of familiar…
This would be the first time I’ve ever been out in public and had someone recognize me. I’m sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, because I so didn’t expect it. Declan flirted with me for a few moments, and then we parted ways.
It was nice to meet you, Megan!
I bought all the pint jars Publix had in stock, went down to Staples for address labels, then headed out to the shelter I volunteer for. I had to pick up cat food and a few other things, and while I was there, I visited with Chemda and Susannah, former fosters of mine (Chemda last year, Susannah last year), who were adopted out and then returned.
They both grew up to be awfully sweet.
I left and stopped at the other Publix in Madison to pick up more canning jars. The teenaged bag boy looked horribly disgusted at the idea of strawberry-habanero and raspberry-habanero jams.
I headed home and decided to try a different route home. We used to be able to take a road straight from Madison to Smallville, but they’ve been working on a section of it FORFUCKINGEVER, so we have to cut up to Closeville, and the traffic drives me a little crazy, so I tried a different way. I managed to get all turned around and finally called Fred, who looked on Google Maps and told me where to go. What the hell did we do before the invention of the cell phone, I ask you? I could have been lost in the wilds of Alabama for hours and hours without the help of Fred and Google!
I got home, and the cats danced around until I opened the back door for them (poor Kara didn’t get to go outside at all on Tuesday, and it was driving her crazy), which made them happy.
I spent the rest of the day puttering around, getting stuff done, getting stuff put away, cleaning the kitchen. You know, the usual.
I decided that the humidifier I ordered from Gaiam.com – the whole-house one I was looking forward to having – is not really all that. It might work well for a house with a more open floor-plan, but in our house where the rooms are separate (BUT EQUAL), I think more (smaller) humidifiers will work better than one big (expensive) humidifier.
And for the record, the Crane pig humidifier I got from Amazon is adorable, very quiet, and does a great job. Also, the fact that the steam shoots out its ears cracks me UP, I don’t care what Fred says about it being dorky.
I have a small humidifier in the dining room, the pig humidifier upstairs, and I think I’m going to get a cow humidifier for the front room and call it good.
(By the way, I got the demineralization cartridge for the pig humidifier to prevent the white dust a couple of you mentioned.)
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The last of my Pennsylvania pictures:
Had Maddy been looking at the camera, this would have been a good Christmas card picture. As it is, it looks like she’s thinking “O Lord, when will the picture-taking end?”
In this light, she looks more like a brown tabby than the silver one she actually is. What’s clear is that she has NO USE for me.
The Big Lots lava cake mix. I thought it was pretty good, but Nance wasn’t crazy ’bout it.
Felina, in a rare non-yappy moment.
The gas-inducing haluski. So, so, so good.
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Four more podcasts from Dorkville.
We are the biggest dorks on earth. I think number 7 is my favorite so far.
(See the whole series of pics over at Love & Hisses.)
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Joe Bob apparently got into it with someone and got a scratch across his nose for his troubles. Good ol’ Joe Bob.
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Previously 2007: She’s a force to be reckoned with, that one. 2006: They are NOT OUR CATS. They have owners, damnit, and they’re not us!
2005: No entry. 2004: It is FUCKING cold downstairs in our house. 2003: And then I got the Best Picture EVER Taken. 2002: Fluff? Perhaps. But very entertaining fluff. 2001: “Who’s Robyn?” said the realtor. 2000: “You little bastard!” I yelled, and then ran at him 1999: Through three moves and a name change,
they’ve managed to keep up with me, sending address labels all the way.
I am home! And now I’m off to celebrate my return by going to get a mammogram, so no entry for y’all today. Sorry! Nance has started to upload our video podcasts. They’re embeddable, so you can watch ’em here. Dorkville – Take 1 from Nance on Vimeo. Dorkville – Take 2 from Nance on … Continue reading “12/3/08”
I am home!
And now I’m off to celebrate my return by going to get a mammogram, so no entry for y’all today. Sorry!
Nance has started to upload our video podcasts. They’re embeddable, so you can watch ’em here.
Please note that Nance was high as a kite (on a controlled substance! No meth for us!) and that she was sitting there with Felina in her lap most of the time, so when I looked over at her and then I looked downward I WAS NOT CHECKING OUT HER RACK, I was either glancing at Felina or watching Nance wave her hands around. Also, I’m aware that I bite my lips a LOT, I’m surprised I don’t have horribly chapped lips all the time.
You can keep an eye peeled over at Nance’s – she’ll post more videos when she can.
See you tomorrow, I’m off to get my boobs squooshed!
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“Oh. Were you gone? Yeah, I missed you terribly. Welcome back. Really.”
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Previously 2007: Sitting in the portal, waiting for the mother ship to arrive.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry. 2004: Meester Boogers howled even more forlornly. 2003: I’ll be ONE OF THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WALKS AROUND SMELLING LIKE CAT PEE WITHOUT KNOWING IT! 2002: Lay on it! 2001: Fred smiled his asshole smile.
2000: No entry.
1999: No entry.
