So yes, the colors on the sidebar are weird. I fucked around with the css for about an hour between last night and this morning, and I’m giving up ’til I feel like fucking around with it again – which may not be ’til next weekend. You can live with the tan sidebars and comments, can’t you?
The big change is that there are now threaded comments – which means you can reply directly to another comment, and your comment will show up indented underneath the comment you’re replying to instead of at the bottom of the comments (though of course you can do that, too. Whatever floats your boat!). Just click on the “reply” link underneath the comment you want to respond to.
Neat, huh? Yeah, it’s the little things that thrill me.
This weekend, it rained. And it rained. Then when it was done? It rained some more. I think Fred came thisclose to losing his mind, because he wasn’t able to go outside and get anything done. Did I mention it rained? I only know this because every time it started pouring, Fred would sob “It’s raining again, make it stoooooop!”
It’s his own damn fault, really. The middle of last week, when things were getting nice and dry, he said “I kind of wish it would rain, the garden could use the water.”
Well, the garden got PLENTY of water. The back forty got flooded too, and plenty of times I looked out there to see George and Gracie wading through chest-high water. Those dogs REALLY like slogging through the water. The good thing is that the water soaked in/ ran off pretty quickly. It’s still wet and muddy out there, but the chickens are able to get out and get around without getting too wet.
I never for one moment have to wonder what the weather report is, anymore. Fred talks about the forecast CONSTANTLY. I can’t decide if that’s an old-man thing, or a farmer thing, the obsession with the weather. I don’t remember the every-five-minute weather reports when we lived in Madison, but it’s possible I’m just not remembering. Surely he had to know what was going to happen weather-wise when he did all that hiking?
We spent most of the day Saturday in the house, watching movies. We finished up Requiem for a Dream (now THAT is a positive and life-affirming movie right there, isn’t it?), watched half of The Stand, and started Beaches. It was actually my original goal to stay in my nightgown all day, but around noon I went upstairs and got dressed because Fred was talking about going somewhere and picking up lunch (I don’t cook on Saturdays. I BAKE, but I don’t cook meals.).
Mid-afternoon, he said “What do you want to get for lunch/ dinner?”
I said, “A cheeseburger from Logan’s Roadhouse sounds good.”
I don’t know why I bother to answer the question, honestly. It’s as if he asks the question just so he can make sure that I do NOT get what it is I’m craving. Maybe I’ll just start planning meals for Saturdays instead of refusing to cook. THE ENDLESS GODDAMN DISCUSSION ABOUT IT DRIVES ME NUTS.
I finally agreed to whatever the fuck he wanted, just to stop talking about it. We got in the car and headed toward Closeville, and he said “How about Steak-Out?” I agreed, and he tried calling to place the order, but as we were in the middle of nowhere at the time, had no cell phone signal.
“Is there anywhere else you’d be willing to eat from?” he asked.
“Let’s just get Burger King,” I said, since Burger King is near Steak-Out.
But of course, it being Saturday, there was a long, long line at the Burger King drive-thru, so without even asking, he drove up to Steak-Out and parked. We walked in, and I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted, and do you know what Douchey McDoucherton did, as I stepped forward to place my order? He decided that I could just get food from Steak-Out and he’d go next door to the shittastic Hardee’s and get a burger from there. So I placed my order, and then we went through the Hardee’s drive-thru to get his meal, and then I got to go back into Steak-Out to wait for my order.
You know. Steak-Out. Where I’d agreed to go just to shut him the fuck up.
And of course the Steak-Out burger was overcooked and tasteless.
Next weekend, when the “What do you want to have for dinner?” dance begins, I’m going to tell him to submit three choices in writing and I’ll make my decision.
Or maybe I’ll just start cooking dinner on Saturday. Grrrr.
PS: He claimed that the Hardee’s burger was the best! burger! ever! I have a knee-jerk dislike for Hardee’s, though, so I don’t believe him.
Sunday, we finished watching Beaches, watched the rest of The Stand, and in and among all that, I did laundry and started fiddling with the updated theme on my site.
Also, we discussed the fact that it was raining.
Speaking of food, I made Brunswick Stew last week using a recipe from the same place where I got the Tomato Soup Cake recipe, and the Brunswick Stew was FABULOUS. Fred didn’t think it was as good as I did, but he still thought it was pretty good. The best part is that it makes a TON, so we had it for dinner two nights, then I froze the rest, which will give us about three more meals.
Other things I made over the weekend: a 7-Up Bundt Cake that was nothing to write home about (the pigs gave it two hooves up, though. They give just about EVERYTHING two hooves up.), and Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies. The cookies were very good – definitely a keeper! They’ve got coconut in them, but not an overwhelming amount, just a taste. They’re chewy and very very good. I recommend them!
Of course, the Cooking Light Chocolate Chip cookies continue to be my favorite.
So on Friday, I took Jasper, Caleb (Troubles), Elijah, Ezra and Phinneas to the pet store. It just so happened Thursday night that the Friday morning cleaner sent out an email asking if anyone could cover for her, and since I was going to be there anyway, I told her I’d do it. I left the house a little after seven with the boys in one carrier, and Ezra and Elijah took turns singing the entire 25 minute drive to the store.
Once inside, I let them out of their carrier and started cleaning cages. They ran around and explored and checked out the other cats while I was cleaning, and then when the other cages were cleaned and all the other cats had been out for a little while and gotten some love from me, I put the other cats up, and opened the cage where the boys were going to be going.
I figured I’d have to shove them all into the cage and then run away before my heart broke as they looked at me sadly, crying and saying “What did we do wrooooong? Why don’t you love us anymooooore?”
It didn’t quite happen like that. Instead, as soon as I opened the cage door and filled the food and water bowls, the boys RAN into the cage and yelled “Hey, toys! Look, toys! Come check out the toys!” By the time I’d tossed a few more toys in the cage, all five of them were in there, playing and fighting and eating. I picked them up one by one to kiss them and say goodbye to them, and they each gave me the MOST annoyed look and waited impatiently until I returned them to their cage.
WELL. Ingrates!
They didn’t get adopted over the weekend, but reports (thanks, Jean and Lisa!) came in that they were completely calm and relaxed and happy, not scared at all.
Beulah and Bessie are adapting to life without their brothers very well. They stay out of their room from the time I get up ’til the time I go to bed, and most of the time they’re sleeping or playing together. Keeping Bessie here to keep Beulah company was a very good idea on my part, I think.
Brudderly love.
Stinkerbelle in her Safe Place.
Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Do you see what I see?
2006: And I mean that “woohoo!” in a completely sincere and non-ironic way, which is a little sad, but whatEVERRRR.
2005: Did I really write a chapter about my sex life? Eek! What was I thinking?
2004: “YES! Yes, she’s sick! No, she’s not sleeping, she’s SICK, and SHE’S ABOUT TO DIE, NOW WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: It wasn’t until I said “I think she’s messed up in the head” that something clicked for her.
My husband does the same thing to me with the whole resturant/takeout choosing thing. He is presently obsessed with a new southern style barbecue place. The food is good but too much is fried. I need to break the obsession somehow. If I tell him we are having something for dinner I’d better not change MY mind because he thinks about the food all day long.
In regard to the weather thing my brother is obsessed with the weather channel. Drives my sister-in-law nuts. He is not a farmer,she is the gardener in the family-I guess he just likes it. I know a couple of other people really into the weather but they are avid gardeners so it makes sense.
Glad the boys are happy at the store-even if they are little ingrates. Husband thinks Ollie is an ingrate because he mostly hangs with me.
Had to share something that happened this weekend. We live in a very suburban place. Plenty of homes, and trees and bushes and flowers etc. but not “farm country” at all. However, our block and the one next to it have property lots of about an acre. Plenty of room for gardens and what not. We were driving out to Barnrs and Noble last night when this strange critter walked in front of our car — we slowed down and hubby said, “What on EARTH is that????” I looked and started laughing. Based on Robyn and Fred’s photos, I think, well, it is a rooster, or a black feathered chicken. Walking down the road. In a most unusual part of our development. DH was MOST put out. “Damn chickens and roosters – they have no place around here.”
Heh – I think chickens belong wherever they wanna be! 🙂
Jebus Crimonetly! Oh my man doesn’t just do the where do you want to eat thing. He does it for everything. It’s like he’s asking my opinion so that he can put a slash mark through that idea on his list.
We get a free computer desk, He asks, “where do you want to put it? Close to the wall or what?”
“Dude, why do you ask me this when you have already decided what you are going to do and it is just going to piss me off when you ask my opinion and then just do what you want to anyway? It’s your house, your stuff, so do whatever the hell you want.”
Crimonetly!! I love the sound of that. I haven’t used that word in many years. I’m going to add it back into my vocabulary. (Robyn, just had to try out this new reply system – it’s pretty cool.
Cool system indeed. Oh and sometimes I say “groovy” just to watch the reactions.
Sometimes my husband will plan what he is going to eat days before we go to a particular restaurant – then change his mind when we get there. It’s like he daydreams about food.
My husband does daydream about food I swear. I guess there are a lot worse things he could be daydreaming about though….
Oh my god, is that a MAN thing or what???? My husband does that “what do you want for dinner?” thing so much I immediately feel the urge to kill him the second he asks the question. We always go around and around until I finally agree to go to WHERE EVER JUST LET’S GO BEFORE I STARVE TO DEATH IN THE DRIVEWAY ALREADY! And then he reads every word on the menu like he’s preparing to have the last meal he will ever have, and asks the waiter/waitress all these stupid questions, until I start plotting how I can suffocate him with a napkin and some dinner rolls.
First, as far as the where to eat thing, I must admit, I am Fred. I do this to my husband all the time. In my defense though,when I ask him where he wants to eat he always picks some place I don’t like. Like Sonic. He knows I don’t like Sonic. But then he whines that I never use his suggestion.
Second, that movie, Requiem for a Dream. That movie greatly disturbed me. I was literally sick to my stomach. I’ve found I can’t handle movies where people do drugs and continually fuck up their life. It makes me ill. I used to like Jared Leto. Now when I see him all I can think of is that movie.
I think our real issue is usually that I’d like to actually go out and eat – not anywhere fancy, just somewhere where you can sit down, be waited on, and take your leftovers home. Fred, on the other hand, prefers to go get something and bring it home. Which, I mean, I was perfectly WILLING to call in the order and go with him to pick it up, but apparently it was not to be.
Saturday morning:
R: Let’s go out to eat tonight!
J: Ok!
Saturday afternoon:
J: Where you want to go?
R: Let’s eat at home and go out tomorrow instead.
J: Ok.
Sunday:
R: Why don’t you go do the shopping and I’ll stay home!
J: And we won’t go out to eat, either, will we.
R: Yeah, we’ll go!
Sunday when I get back from shopping:
R: Look! I made TUNA NOODLE CASSEROLE!
J, mentally lobbing 40-lb tub of cat litter and 37-lb bag of dog food at husband’s head: Ok.
Sensing a trend? 😉
J, sighing. We even have restaurant gift cards to use, it’s not a matter of $!
My husband and I will do the same thing. And that’s after I’ve given him any where from 2 – 4 places that I’d like to eat, it truly doesn’t matter to me which place we go. And he’ll still ask me where do I want to go. Gee, I don’t know, I just gave you FOUR places to choose from that I’d like to go!!
As my coworkers and I say, “Dumb stupid boys.”
I thought that was just a Libra thing the “I don’t know, where do you want to go?” thing. Huh. So it’s a penis thing. Not surprised.
We used to do the same thing here until I decided I was gonna divorce his ass because of it. Now we have pick 3 places we are willing to eat at and the other person has to pick one. It goes the same way when picking out a movie. Pick 3 you are willing and the other persons choises. 99% of the time we are happy with the system.
I really really like that idea – I think we may have to implement that around here so that no one gets divorced (or buried in the back forty!).
I just wanted to reply to a reply. Also, it’s worse when NO ONE will make a decision at all on where to eat, and we end up just looking at each other mournfully. You know what happens then? Toast. And it SERVES EVERYONE RIGHT.
I always thought it would be funny to open a restaurant called “I don’t know, where do you want to eat?” The menu would be full of choices like “What looks good to you?” would be meatloaf or something.
There is a resturant here called “SHUT UP AND EAT”. I think it’s the rudest thing I ever heard of. Am I humorless-is it funny? I just picture purposely rude wait staff and coustomers-there is enough rudeness here already.