in her entry the other day, I went and looked up information about them and saw that they’ll grow in the shade, or some of them will anyway, and her hostas are pretty, and Nance knows that when she mentions something, I MUST immediately have one of whatever it is, too, because I am a lemming.
I don’t know that there’s going to be any kind of latticework or painting done to the stairs, because I’m fairly lazy and I don’t know that the prettiness of the stairs concerns me enough to go buy paint and paint them. Also, I’d need Fred to do the handrail or the latticework (or at least help with it) and every time I mention something that needs to be done, he sighs in a long-suffering manner and act all put-upon and bitches about how I have such a long list for him.
My list: laundry line, fence around the back yard. Possible future (no big rush) list: covered porch in front of the back door, deck over the concrete pad.
Really. Is that such a long list? Because I don’t think it is, personally. And if he didn’t want to be doing shit around the house, he shouldn’t have FORCED me to buy this house, is all I have to say.
(Ha!)
* * *
We like to walk around the back forty, usually every evening before we put the chicks in the coop and shut them in for the night. Sunday night, I think, my leg kept itching about halfway between my ankle and knee, and finally I flipped my pants leg up to see what the hell was going on.
And I had a tick crawling around on me.
::shudder::
Ever since, every time I think about seeing that fucking thing, I get all itchy and have to scratch myself from head to toe until the itchiness goes away.
At least it was just crawling around, and hadn’t gotten to the point where it was burrowed in. Thank god for small favors.
* * *
Yesterday I had to cool my heels for part of the day waiting for the plumber to show up. We’re having a water line run over behind the wood shed so that we won’t need to have hoses laying across the lawn for Fred to water the garden and give the chickens fresh water, he can just run a hose from the shed.
(Also, this reduces the likelihood that I’ll run over the hose with the riding lawnmower the next time I cut the lawn.)
Around noon, Fred called to let me know that the plumber had been called out on an emergency, which didn’t bother me too much, because I didn’t have any big plans for the day, anyway. He told me that the company had said they’d send him out first thing this morning, he could do the job, and then we could both go over to the Madison house, where he was scheduled to come today, anyway, and fix the problem with the thing in the laundry room. (I don’t know what the issue is with the thing in the laundry room, only that water was squirting everywhere and they had to turn the water to the house off and a plumber needs to do something to something.)
It’s almost 9:00, and I don’t see any plumber anywhere doing anything, so I don’t know what their definition of “first thing in the morning” is, but it clearly differs from mine.
* * *
Dear
Catie:
Your boyfriend has no couth:
That’s MY GARDEN he’s using as his litterbox. Even Maxi was appalled. I am SO not stepping foot in that garden unless I’m wearing a biohazard suit in the future, swear to god.
He didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed, the little bastard.
* * *
* * *
Previously
2006: I like my life to be conflict-free, thank you.
2005: …and then she smacks the shit out of him, and he closes his eyes and smacks blindly at her, never ever ever landing a single smack on the portly Poo.
2004: No entry.
2003: It appears that the mother of Crunchy, Chewy, and Cheesy had a hard-core craving for the Crunchy Gordita during her pregnancies, and thus (possibly when she wasn’t smoking crack with one hand and downing the hard liquor with the other, one assumes) named her children after it.
2002: We sure are some dish-using motherfuckers around here.
2001: As if the little bastard had said “Oh, can’t poo on Mom’s newspaper, don’t want to get it all nasty!”
2000: (Every entry won’t be a laundry list of my day, I promise. This not-working thing is still new to me!)]]>
Where else would a good kitty from the county plop one out? Didn’t you guys dig up that pretty pretty dirt just for a giant kitty potty spot? Heh.
EXACTLY, Amy. They make a giant litter box and then they get all pissy when someone decides to use it.
Yep … we have raised beds in our backyard, and until they are planted and the seedlings take over, the cats think they’re giant luxury litter boxes. I am so dumb that for the first couple springtimes when I was clearing the beds out, I couldn’t figure out where all those foul smelling giant “peanuts” came from. Gah – that’s even more embarrassing when I actually write it.
Chickens are GREAT for getting rid of ticks in your yard, but you would have to let them out of the pen into the yard, keep an eye on them so they don’t wander into the street, then put them back in.
Not a good idea to let them use the garden for a litter box you might need to fence that area. I don’t remember on which one but on one of the garden shows on TV they gave the many reasons allowing a vegetable garden to be used as a litter box is a health hazard. Check it out – don’t want you guys to get sick!
Don’t know if you have ever read her but Marn (from Canada) is a hostapalooza queen. Check out the photos
http://marn.diaryland.com/hpalooza2.html
Ticks skeeve me out something awful.
Once upon a time I made a blend of essential oils that worked really, really well at keeping ticks off. I was doing a lot of camping in a tick-infested area at the time. I’ve lost the recipe I wrote down while I was making it, but I seem to recall using vitamin E oil as the carrier oil and adding in cedarwood, rosemary, citronella and eucalyptus oils. Roughly equal amounts of the first three, less of the eucalyptus cause I think it smells offensive. I didn’t get exact with the quantities, just messed around until it sorta smelled nice and woodsy. (So scientific.)
I’d put it around the tops of my boots, bottoms of my jeans (or socks if I was wearing shorts–this stuff was a little strong for putting it directly on skin), a little bit on my hair in case any made it up that far, that sort of thing, and I went from getting ticks all over me all the time despite heavy application of Deep Woods Off to never getting another one on me again as long as I remembered to put the oil on. The citronella might be unnecessary–I was hoping that adding it would help keep the skeeters away, but that didn’t work out.
Have you heard the new Brad Paisley song, “Ticks”? Hilarious! Here is the chorus:
I’d like to see you out in the moonlight
I’d like to kiss you way back in the sticks
I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
and I’d like to check you for ticks
Sounds like you need a small fence around the garden, and be sure to put water repellant or something on the stairs or they will rot. 🙂
Robyn,
He’s an outdoor kitty – give him some privacy, dangit! Ha ha! My kitties are glad that you and your camera are far, far away! At least he stays out the next door neighbor’s sand box. 😉
Why not build a small deck around those stairs? With a cover (lattice maybe) so you have a place to sit and talk and drink sweet tea!
You know, if it helps you any, all of us faithful readers could flock on over to Fred’s site and give him some “helpful” suggestions about what should be done about your back stoop. ::winkwink:: 🙂 Just say the word.