While I completely understand your desire for us to keep Beulah and while I was leaning in that direction for a little while, I’ve decided that we’re not going to keep her. Really, Theresa said it best in my comments yesterday when she said
There is a point where one has just has too many cats. If you foster, there is always going to be another cute kitten who will win your heart. I know this viewpoint is not a popular one with your readership, but I vote to adopt out Beulah. She is adorable and someone will want her for sure.
Hopefully, no one thinks I am a troll or contrary. I simply think ten cats is plenty for one household and a cutie pie like Beulah has a high chance of being adopted by a good home
I honestly think we hit the “too many” cats limit about two cats ago – not only are 10 cats a lot of cats to stuff into one household (though it’s a little less crowded during the summer when Maxi and Newt spend most nights outside), it also gives me less time to give our cats one-on-one attention. I try to check in with each cat at some point during the day
(I’m imagining Sugarbutt in a suit and tie, passing me in the hallway. “How ya doin’, Suggie?” “Great, Lady, thanks. I’ll get the TPS Report to you by noon.” “Let me know if you have any problems.” “Will do.”)
and give each of them one-on-one attention. But there are some days when Stinkerbelle doesn’t get her morning ear-scritches or Joe Bob doesn’t get to whine his creepy high-pitched whine at me, and I don’t realize it ’til I’m getting into bed, and it makes me feel guilty. I just honestly don’t want to add another permanent resident to Crooked Acres.
That said, I do love the hell out of Miss Beulah, and I’m glad that she’ll be here for at least a little while longer (would you believe she STILL hasn’t hit two pounds yet?). It will be hard to let her go, but I always know that my babies will go to good homes. The adoption counselors for the shelter are really good at their job, god bless ’em. I don’t doubt she’ll be adopted out quickly to a loving family.
It’s okay to be disappointed that y’all won’t get to see her grow up – that’s the hardest part of this fostering thing – and it’s okay to not believe me when I say we’re not keeping her. Just don’t be all shocked and surprised when I announce that she’s about to go to the pet store, okay?
(And Theresa, there was nothing remotely troll-like in your comment, worry not!)
Of course, if any of y’all are seriously interested in adopting her, let me know and I’ll give you the shelter manager’s name and number.
Probably I’ve mentioned in the past that I have a bad habit of eating lunch (well, and breakfast and dinner too, for that matter) in front of the computer. Generally I sit and read blogs while I’m eating (I know, you’re not supposed to read while you eat. WHATEV.), and it’s been fine. I’ve actually never had a problem with any of the cats trying to eat off my plate (though if I’m eating something Spanky thinks he might like a bite of, he sits and gives me the pathetic “I am starving, Lady, why you hate me?” look.)
But since last week when I brought Ezra and Elijah home for the weekend, the two of them and their sisters have all been all up in my face every time I sit down in front of the computer. They are FASCINATED watching me mouse around and click on things (both the girls have been known to “chatter” at my monitor when they see anything moving around on the screen) and trying to eat in front of the computer? Forget it. They are SUPER interested in anything I might think about eating.
In self-defense, I had to do the unthinkable.
I had to start eating at the dining room table.
I KNOW! The horror!
So far, it’s working really well. I sit at the table with my plate of food and a can of compressed air by my hand, and when one of their little heads pops up, as if they’re thinking of climbing up onto the table to see what I’m doing, I send a blast of air in their direction, and they run off.
I had hoped that once Ezra and Elijah went off to the pet store and I was down to just the girls again I could eat in peace in front of the computer, but when I sat down with my lunch yesterday, Beulah was all “Howyadoin’? Whatchagot? Might I dip my paw in that plate of food and see if I’d like some of it too, please? “No,” you say? Well howzabout I just do it anyway!”
I fled to the table to eat my lunch, and I guess that’ll be my default place to eat for now.
Brats.
The last time I made Chicken Pot Pie, I had leftover pot pie “filling” that wouldn’t fit in the pie dish. I put it in a plastic container and froze it. The other day I took it out and looked to see just how much filling there was, and decided that it wouldn’t make an entire pot pie, but that I could make a couple of small individual-size pot pies with what I had. The only problem was that I didn’t really have anything to make individual-size pot pies in.
Yesterday, after I dropped Ezra and Elijah off at the pet store, I swung by Old Time Pottery in Madison. That store has got just about every kind of kitchen dish you could want, so I figured they’d have something I could use. I picked up a couple of different kinds of baking dishes, but then put them back after I found small white casserole-like dishes – much like these – for $1.49 each. I grabbed four.
I picked up a few more things, and then went to check out.
As the cashier rang up my purchases, she picked up the dishes, and said “Going to make some souffles?”
“No,” I said. “I’m going to make some individual-serving casseroles.”
And she gave me the oddest look, like that was the weirdest thing she’d heard all day. As soon as I left the store, I wished like hell I’d asked her what the look was for, because now it’s bugging me. Is using souffle-type dishes for individual casseroles THAT strange an idea?
Stinkerbelle has picked up the nickname “Dinky Doo” lately. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t know. It just kind of rolls off the tongue, y’know?
Previously
2008: Here’s a hint: Mister Boogers? Not the man.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Oh, it’s FUN to be a girl, ain’t it?
2004: Am I not stylin’?
2003: Like I repeatedly said to him yesterday, “I’m GLAD you’re ENJOYING my pain!”
2002: Momma don’t do food-related or cleaning-related stuff on Mother’s Day!
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
Wha??? There’s nothing strange about that at’all. Actually that’s how I make my chicken pot pies – make the filling (oh so delish) put it in individual ramekins, then when completely cooled, a circle of raw pie crust on top. I wrap them in plastic wrap, pop them into a freezer bag and freeze those suckers. Nights when hunny and I aren’t in the mood to cook, I throw them in the oven for 45-60 mins and they are awesome! I wasn’t sure how freezing & baking would work, but it’s a charm. We’ve both had bypass surgery and those ramekins are the perfect size. Well, they come in diff sizes and a couple of the big ‘uns leave a little leftover which is A-OK by me.
That’s a VERY good idea, to make them in advance and freeze them. I’m going to have to give it a try!
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Ha! Last time I saw a picture of your dining room table, there wasn’t any room for you to eat on it. Just teasing. My dining room has become my quilting studio and I can’t eat at my dining room table. But I do eat at my kitchen table.
If I lived even within a 2 or 3 hour drive, I would seriously consider having my vicious (I am not kidding) cat put to sleep and adopting Beulah. Her Majesty was six when I got her and for some reason I thought she would calm down living with me. (Her former owners did not like cats — their daughter got her and then promptly went off to college and left her behind.) Her Majesty hates other cats and most people. I don’t think she actually hates me, she might even be fond of me, but does not know how to show it. After 3 years I have given up on getting her not to be vicious. I pet her and play with her and get bitten on a semi-regular basis. No one else even dares to pet her.
Oh, I totally had to carve out space on the table – I moved the cat bed to the floor. The dining room table’s where everything ends up when we are too lazy to put stuff back where it belongs! Right now it hosts my laptop, a black light, packing supplies, and junk mail. 🙂
No it’s not strange (re: repurposing ramekins/suffle dishes) just an example of someone who has no imagination or in corporate speak can’t “think outside the box”. Those people annoy me. Like Stinkerbelle’s nickname-it makes sense to YOU, right? We have our old basset hound named Daphne. Daphne became Daffy which became Daffy Duck then Duck Dog. We will refer to her as “the duck” to each other. My sister gets it and calls her Bagel dog Daisy Daisy Duck. One of my husband’s brilliant successful relatives insists it makes mo sense, “She’s NOT a DUCK”. No really thanks for the newflash. And You Mr. Smartpants have NO IMAGINATION.
ofcourse I meant no sense-my imagination is better than my proofreading!
I can’t even imagine someone who wouldn’t understand a nickname like that – some people have no imagination! (Also, I think “the duck” is an awesome nickname for a dog! Hee.)
We used to have a pug mix named Griffey, after the famous baseball player. I started calling him all sorts of names right away, Griffenator, griffenheimer, griffenhouser, griffenooter, then it became Griffenator-gator, then just nator-gator, and then finally just gator. Crazy shit huh? He knew all his names too and came to everyone of them. We miss him, he died of cancer.
“The Duck and the Gator” would be an excellent cartoon, I bet. 🙂
There’s a cartoon on Noggin that’s aimed for preschoolers about a girl named Pinky, they call it “Pinky Dinky Doo.” Stinky Dinky Doo? 🙂
Is Pinky pretty yet hateful? Because if so, I think it might be a cartoon about Stinkerbelle. 🙂
Someone will definitely scoop up Miss Beulah, she’s so cute – I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat with gray and buff markings like she has. My english setter dog picked up the nickname “dinky doo” some time ago and my husband thought I was nuts, but now he calls her that too. I never thought I would hear someone else call their pet that! I just have to giggle because she even has a song we sing to her using the dinky doo name. It’s so funny what pet names can morph into (or what nicknames they just get stuck with), we call our other dog “baby chunky”.
I think it’s funny that we even bother to name our animals, since most of the time they get nicknames and then I have to struggle to remember what their “real” name is!
I hope your Dinky Doo is friendlier than mine is. 🙂
I totally get the “we’ve hit our cat limit” feeling. With 11, the line of peace between the kitties is pretty fine, and that line gets crossed on occasion. We also have the issue of random sprayings, which is highly annoying. With both of us working long days, it’s impossible to make sure every kitty gets some individual attention. I think it’s great that the group you foster for work so hard to find good homes. I probably wouldn’t have as many as I do if I hadn’t had a chance to get attached to them and had been able to find good homes fairly quickly.
Oh god, the peace around here is tenuous at best. We’ll have a few days of relative peace, and then we have days on end where SOMEONE has a problem with someone else for no apparent reason, and there’s fighting and screaming and it just drives me NUTS.
OMG, tell me you watched the RHoNYC Reunion. I couldn’t decide who (whom?) I wanted to punch more! And there’s MORE on Thursday!
I *just* finished watching it. They are a bunch of nutbags, aren’t they? It drives me nuts when they talk over each other. Ramona has got to be pure and utter hell to live with – and Jill doesn’t get her an inch, either. She was all OVER Ramona’s shit, wasn’t she? I stand behind my belief that Kelly’s got some sort of drug problem going on – she hardly ever makes sense (that long rambling blather about what was going on with her ex made no sense at all).
I still love Bethenny the most.
Whenever store clerks give me that “look” that either indicates they think I’m an innovative genius or a nutbag, but really can’t tell which, I like to add, “in accordance with the prophecy” to my statement. Nothing gets you bagged up and out of the store faster.
HA – I’m going to try that next time!
“Actually, I’m making individual casseroles…in accordance with the prophecy.”
I am ROLLING over her! LOL!
HERE. Over HERE. Sorry.
Dinky Doo – I don’t find it strange at all. One of our cats is called fluff bucket – don’t ask me why. I also once had a canary who was called Turkey. A mentally challenged (is that the PC word now?) cousin of mine said: “Look at the turkey” when she saw the bird and it kind of stuck for a name.
A canary named Turkey – that is too adorable!
I can actually explain the nicknames for all of our cats except Miz Poo. I honestly have no idea where that one came from!
Robyn, I use my ramekins for chicken pot pie and other pot pies all the time. In fact I rarely, if ever, use them for souffles.
I can pretty confidently state that my ramekins will likely never be used for souffles. I think they might be beyond my skillset!
Re: cashier commentary. The other day I bought some cage-free eggs from Walmart and after the cashier rung them up she said, “I sure hope those eggs are good, they’re sure expensive.” I told her it was because they’re cage-free and that’s why they cost more. And then she gave me look that meant she could care less!
Did you want to say “What? You STARTED the conversation about it, lady!”?
The nickname made perfect sense to me too. We had a wonderful dog named Mickey who became Mickey Dog then Mick Dog then McDoo and finally became Doo-Doo Dog….and yes he recognized each and every name. He put up with this for 16 years before he passed on. He was just pure joy for us.
We just named our rabbits what we knew their nicknames were going to be anyway. Flopsy Lopsy Helicopy Head and FuzzBucket.
Of course, even those have nicknames. Flopy Loppy, FlopLop, Loppybuns, WhatTheHellAreYouDoingWithYourEars…. you know, that kind of thing. FuzzBucket gets turned into Fuzzer. Fuuuuuzzy Bunny, FuzzBun, CatPigDogThinger. She’s weird looking. Like: that only with red eyes and pure white fur. Weird.
And the ramekin thing was NOT weird. WTF cashier-lady?
Oh my god, Nori. That is one beautiful little rabbit! (Though the red eyes might creep me out a little. Do you ever wake up and find her crouched over you staring down at you with her evil eyes glowing?)
*laughs* She never wakes us up that way, though she does by chewing the baseboards in the rabbit room. Which is basically right beside the bed because it’s in the closet on the other side of the wall. And then when you go to the door and look she’s all *innocent red eyes* Yeah, right, evil little shit.
I’m afraid she IS going to try to take over the world. Flopsy will just be her little minion.
And here I thought the lesbians and cats were going to take over the world (Since wifelet and I had 5 cats for a while, it just seemed that that would be the way of it)
TEN?! I just convinced my boyfriend to let us get our first kitties. Hopefully I can talk him into more…
I don’t think it’s odd at all. I once had leftover chicken pot pie filling and I made what I called “chicken pot pasties” and froze them. They were really good! Just roll out pie dough, (or use the pre-made stuff), fill them, then crimp the edges and bake or freeze.
OH. I am SO doing this…this weekend. Pot pie turnovers! Thank you!
Is it just me, or does it look like the kittens play musical chairs whilst sitting in front of the computer waiting for peoples food?
I love compressed air. When my husband bought a six-pack at Costco, I stole one to use on my Husky. She used to jump all over people (including my feeble mother) when they came to the door, but not anymore! One hiss from the can sends her straight to the floor. Good stuff, thanks!
I’m a little late with this comment, but I was just watching Down Home With The Neely’s this morning and they made individual chicken pot pies in ramekins. It’s crazy that the cashier couldn’t grasp the concept.