So, when I work in the garden, I wear these gardening gloves that I picked up at Lowe’s. My hands still get a little dirty, but not nearly as dirty as they would if I didn’t wear gloves at all. I have two pairs of gloves, because I am JUST THAT FANCY. When I’m done working in the garden, I hang whichever gloves I was wearing on the clothesline so they can dry before I need to use them again.
If you are thinking to yourself “Robyn, hanging gloves on the clothesline for days at a time is just askin’ for trouble!”, you might be right, you damn know-it-all.
Yesterday, I went out, grabbed a pair of gloves off the clothesline, put them on, and continued across the yard toward the side gate. And then there was a vibration against the pinky of my right hand, and an angry buzzing sound coming from the same location.
If I possessed my very own set of testicles, I can tell you that they would have crawled as far up into my body cavity as possible at that moment. There was this long pause of incredulous disbelief as my brain scrambled to catch up with just what the holy hell was going on, and then I went into a full-body dance across the yard, my feet barely touching the ground as I frantically pulled the glove off and threw it to the ground.
Just thinking about it gives me the willies.
I threw the second glove to the ground too just in case, and then I stomped on both of them several times, as hard as I could (did I mention that I wear an old t-shirt, old shorts, and my boots when I work in the garden? I am always a vision of loveliness, if you were wondering. They write poems in tribute to my loveliness.) When my pulse was back to something approaching normal, I turned the gloves inside out, and found a dead baby bee.
From now on I’ll be hanging my gloves inside to dry.
I have a YouTube video from almost two years ago, when Kara’s babies were still here. Those babies would occasionally nurse until they were 4 months old – and she let them. Now, I know they didn’t NEED to nurse at that age, they were just taking advantage of her, but she let them do it sometimes, and it didn’t seem to bother her. She certainly didn’t mind getting up and walking away when she felt like it. I felt like it was up to her to cut them off, and she did eventually. They weren’t doing it all the time, either, just every now and again.
Every now and then I get an annoying comment on the YouTube video telling me that those kittens should NOT be nursing, that kittens should be weaned by then, WHAT AM I THINKING?!
And it drives me fucking nuts. Every fucking time. Finally, after the latest comment, I logged in and shut down comments on that video.
But I’m still feeling very stabby on the topic. The video is TWO FUCKING YEARS OLD, am I to go back in time and make the kittens stop? ARRRRGH.
I do kind of think it’s funny that you were checking them out when they were next door, curious about who they were, but then didn’t open the door to find out. Not that I would have either, but I think it proves that you weren’t really all THAT curious.
I was curious because I’m nosy like that – but I’m also too nice to say “no” to salesmen, so I solve that problem by not dealing with ’em.
Don’t they make some sort of directional microphone that I could keep by the sink and point toward their deck when my nosiness overcomes me?
(I’m KIDDING!)
(Mostly.)
How you keep yourselves from wanting to keep all your foster kitties is beyond me…those who have come here, have stayed…young and old alike…I love them all!! But kittens…how do you hold yourself back : )
These days, I’m walking a thin line between “I LOVE my Bookworms!” and “TOO MANY CATS UP IN MY SHIT!!!” Because when the cats swarm, they are crazymaking. I know I’ll miss the hell out of the Bookworms, but I really am looking forward to having them find their forever homes and making mine a little less crazy.
(That said, I can admit that when I think about taking the Bookworms to the adoption center, whenever that happens, I tear up. MAH BABIES!)
I guess I’m paranoid, but I don’t think the few bucks you make on eggs is worth dealing with nosy strangers on your property when you’re home alone. Just my opinion, of course.
I think you’d be surprised at how the money from those eggs adds up. Saturday is our day for eating dinner out, and most weeks the money that buys our dinner out comes from the sale of eggs.
Plus, when I’m home alone and have to deal with unknown egg buyers, I’ve usually got a gun in my pocket.
Three years of walking around the property armed, and I haven’t shot anyone. YET.
::crazy eyes::
I have a food question that I thought someone here might be able to figure out. Remember that glowing, almost fluorescent yellow chicken gravy from back in the day? I’ve been wishing I knew how to make it, but I have no clue, and my searches have been fruitless. Can anyone help me in my quest for creepy gravy?
I’ll be interested in seeing if anyone has a response to this one. I am not remembering the fluorescent yellow chicken gravy, but I’m certainly curious about it!
I don’t know if you are aware of a new group here in Alabama for getting legislation passed to help companion animals, cut down on kill shelters? If not, here’s a link to their website:
Alabama Voters for Responsible Animal Legislation (AVRAL)
Please pass it along to other rescue people/shelters, etc. that you know. Maybe we can create enough interest for some serious activism regarding abandoned/mistreated companion animals!
I hadn’t heard about AVRAL – thanks for the tip!
Do you like smoked salmon/lox? My favorite way to have fresh dill is scattered over a plate of smoked salmon, over which crème fraîche (or sour cream) has been (HEAVILY!) drizzled and a handful of capers sprinkled on top. Even better if all of this is on top of freshly made blinis, but that’s asking a lot.
You know what’s sad? I don’t know if I like smoked salmon! I don’t believe I’ve ever had it. I’m going to have to change that, I think, because 99% of the recipes I came across when I was looking for a way to use up that dill were for salmon.
Here’s something else that’s sad – I’ve never had capers! What are they, y’all? Will I like them?
Have the cat/kitten adoptions slowed down since the economic depression hit? Sorry if you’ve addressed this before. I don’t skim, I’m just senile.
Right now adoptions are really slow, but I think they usually are at this time of year. This area hasn’t been hit nearly as hard by the economic downturn as other parts of the country – between the defense and aerospace industries, Huntsville is the place to be!
Is that really Spanky snuggling? He must be mellowing 🙂
That was, indeed, Spanky sleeping next to Reacher, but it was more a matter of Reacher sneaking up and laying down next to Spanky while Spanky was sound asleep and unaware of what was going on, than Spanky deliberately being within touching distance of another cat. The kittens are such sneaky little brats.
You live out in the country… so I know that is going to play a role… but is there a limit on the number of animals you can have on the property? I’m thinking that pretty soon you and Fred need to consider setting yourself up as a Kitty Rescue yourself. — God knows you are well equipped for it.
There are no restrictions on the number of animals we can have on our property. As long as we take good care of our animals, we can have as many as we’d like. And if we didn’t take good care of our animals, one of our neighbors would notify animal control. She loves animals as much as we do, and she’s always got an eye on the animal owners in the neighborhood.
May I suggest a counter in the header to keep track of the animals? Something like “X chickens, Y cats, 3 dogs, 2 pigs and a frog.” ;D
I just might have to do that.
BUT THE FROG DOES NOT BELONG TO US!
(Famous last words, right?)
Your chickens have such beautiful feathers … do you gather them up and do anything with them? I “collect” feathers (beautiful feathers) … and basically just look at them, no crafty-stuff involved …:-D
No, I don’t really gather then up. I ought to, though, I could make cat toys with feathers hanging off them. The cats would love that!
Do you rotate what is planted in your rows? That might be an issue. Plus, the weather was weird this year. Too cold, too wet, too hot … for too long.
We do. We’ve never gotten a decent crop of regular-sized tomatoes, either. Next year we’re planning on raised beds, and we’ll see how that goes.
It’s very odd – the white scalloped squash, which was planted right alongside the yellow summer squash, came in like gangbusters this year. The yellow squash, on the other hand, didn’t do so well. Which annoys me because I much prefer the yellow squash – it’s got more flavor than the white.
Bad news, good news, and a happy ending for two Challenger’s House cats!
Bad news: Franco and Garrity are going back to the adoption center. They were adopted by two roommates last Friday, and as it turns out, one of the girls has allergies. I’m sad for the kittens, but I know their forever homes will come along, and hopefully soon.
Good news: Gavin and Lieu have both been adopted! Not together, but to very good homes.
The happy ending: Monarch is 7 years old and Georgia is 10 years old. They’ve been residents of Challenger’s House since they were days old, literally – Georgia was 5 days old and Monarch was 3 days old.
Earlier this week, they were adopted to a great guy who works at Petsmart. Monarch’s still a scaredy-cat and hiding, but Georgia has been out and about and has been hanging on one of the two cat trees their new daddy bought for them.
I love a happy ending, no matter how long it takes to come!
Yesterday, of her own volition, Melodie came down and not only approached me to pet her, but even played with a toy I rolled across the floor for her!
Baby steps.
In the evenings, at bedtime, Fred goes upstairs before I do, and has some time alone with the kittens while I putter around downstairs. As it turns out, not only has Melodie approached Fred for petting, she’s been very aggressive about demanding the petting.
Why do all the scaredy-cat girl kitties love my husband so, I ask you?
Moxie loves me, at least. Right, Moxie, you love me?
“Sure, lady.”
Melodie eyeballs me from atop the cat tree.
Caught in the act! Martin and Melodie, snuggling.
“See mah feets?”
For a time yesterday, this box was verrrrry popular with the Bookworms. It’s been sitting there for a couple of days, I’m not sure why it was the place to be, all of a sudden. This is Reacher, enjoying a little quiet time. (I like to call him “Reacher Creature” because I’m a dork.)
Rhyme suddenly realized he was being followed. (“Rhyme time!”)
Bolitar leapt in to try to gain control of the box. (I call Bolitar “Buster” and usually say something along the lines of “Buster Brown gets around!” Did I mention I’m a dork?)
This did not go over well with Rhyme, who just wanted to chase his tail in peace.
::CHOMP::
Bolitar fled for friendlier pastures. (Yes, I removed the strap from around his neck and tucked it out of the way so he can’t strangle himself.)
::smooch::
“You been eating crickets again? Your breath – whoa.”
Previously
2009: DIDN’T SAY THAT ON MY ITINERARY, FUCKERS.
2008: Creating a Monster.
2007: Now THAT is a signal I understand.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: My crap, is my scalp FRIED.
2003: I’m still thinking of killing her.
2002: Getting impatient, because Fred hadn’t carried the bag of food upstairs and poured some fresh food for his majesty, Tubby started bitching “Give me food, damnit!”
2001: “Remember when you moved that dresser? That was cool.”
2000: No entry.