Happy Summer Solstice! Don’t party too hard.
I can’t believe the days are going to start getting shorter. That is just WRONG.
I know, I suck, I have been so incredibly scattered lately that I haven’t taken the time to post over here. What can I say? That fucker keeps bringing me buckets and buckets and BUCKETS of squash and green beans, and who gets to deal with them? That’s right, I’ve been spending days upon days dealing with this shit. On the up side, when the zombie apocalypse occurs, we’ll be able to bring down the hordes by beaning them with frozen squash and green beans. If you play Words with Friends with me, you’ll note that I’m playing awfully slowly these days. Things will chill out soon enough, I suspect.
We’ve also been eating a LOT of squash. The majority of the meals around here have consisted of some sort of squash main dish with another sort of squash side dish, and a second side dish of green beans. We’re getting our veggies in, that’s for sure.
I’ve been bitching at Fred about planting so many squash plants, and trying to convince him that next year he should plant ONE row of summer squash instead of two and ONE row of winter squash. I like to act like it was all his decision, but back in May when the planting was going on, I was all for planting as many squash plants as humanly possible.
We planted lemon squash this year because I read something about them last year and thought “We should grow those!”, and sent off for the seeds. The plants are HUGELY prolific, and the squash are tasty and less seedy than the crooknecks. (You see mostly lemon squash in that gray bucket in the picture.) They’re called lemon squash, by the way, because they look like lemons. They don’t have any sort of lemony taste to them.
Fred thinks – and I agree – that the produce our garden is, uh, producing this year is particularly pretty. We did a lot of work up front at the beginning of the growing season, and now we don’t do much more work in the garden than picking produce.
We’re growing banana peppers this year for the first time – obviously – because I have a banana butter recipe I want to try. The funny thing is that I’m not a fan of any kind of pepper, but I always insist that we grow some. The jalapenos are pretty this year, too.
All in all, a good garden year. I’m growing one row of tomatoes this year, but the mistake I made – and didn’t even think about – was that I planted mostly cherry tomatoes and Compari tomatoes (which are bigger than cherry tomatoes, smaller than plum tomatoes). I planted one kind of full-size tomato, which doesn’t really lend itself to the amount of oven-fried green tomatoes that we like to get in our summer diet. I need to remedy that next year.
If you’re reading Fred’s blog, you know that we successfully had a well dug right outside the back yard. The next step was to have an electrician come out and run electricity to the well pump, which they did last week. They had to use a trencher to dig a trench from a corner of the house, across the back yard, to the well. Three guys showed up bright and early to do the job.
It never occurred to me to shut the back door, which I of COURSE should have thought of. All of the cats except Miz Poo are skittish if not downright terrified of strangers, so I figured that when strangers entered the back yard, the cats would all run inside. And they did – but it STILL didn’t occur to me to shut the back door so that all the cats would be inside.
I didn’t sit and watch the work, because I had shit to do, and so about mid-morning when I sat down at my desk and glanced out the back window, I was horrified to see Tommy sniffing around the trench in the back yard and the side gate standing wide open. I went out and shooed Tommy away from the trench, and shut the gate.
Once again, I did NOT shut the back door, because I’m an idiot.
They got the electricity run, the trench filled in, and then were on their way. I walked out into the back yard to examine the filled-in trench, and that’s when I realized that the front gate was standing wide fucking open. I came inside and ran around the house, calling cats and trying to figure out if anyone was missing. After about 10 minutes, I came to the conclusion that Tommy, Jake, and Corbie were all missing. I spent the next hour walking around the property calling for them at the top of my lungs.
Finally, as I was approaching the side stoop, I saw Corbie huddled under the side stoop. It took a lot of convincing, but I finally got Corbie herded into the back yard, and then he ran for the back door. Half an hour later, I found Jake in the same spot. I got him inside (though not before he gave me a heart attack by acting like he was going to run into the road. I screamed so loud my throat hurt for the next two days. It scared the fuck out of him, luckily, and he swerved and ran behind the garage.)
But no Tommy. I walked around the property and called and called for him, I checked every spot I could think of, and couldn’t find him anywhere. I opened the door on the side of the house that leads to the creepy crawlspace under the house (the electrician had to go under there at one point) and called, and no Tommy. When Fred got home he did the same.
I was positive that Tommy would show up at dusk, but he didn’t. We left the gates to the back yard open that night in hopes that Tommy would find his way home. I was sure that when Fred woke me up before he left for work, he’d report that Tommy was home.
He wasn’t.
All that day, I walked around the property and called for Tommy, to no avail. Fred did the same when he got home. We both worried that Tommy had wandered too far and had been attacked by a dog or a coyote or just couldn’t find his way home again.
That evening, I was doing something upstairs, and Fred walked into the room with Tommy in his arms.
As it turned out, Fred thought of looking in the crawlspace under the house one more time. He opened the door and called and called for Tommy, heard a distant meow, and waited and called some more. Finally, Tommy came nervously toward him. All that time we’d spent walking around the property, that poor kitty was literally right under our feet.
THANK GOD Fred thought of looking under there again. Tommy had to have escaped through the front gate, gone all the way around the house, and then slipped into the crawl space while the door was open. He was a determined boy!
Tommy was subdued for a couple of days, but he’s back to his usual self now, thank god. He doesn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from being without food and water for a day and a half (Fred said “Maybe he was eating mice under there!”). If he had meowed while he was down there, we would have heard him – once upon a time, back when we first got him, Joe Bob got into the crawlspace through a gap around the air conditioning unit and I could hear him meowing under the floor in the front room (we’ve since blocked that gap, of course). Poor Tommy.
I was, of course, irritated with the electrician – I mean, the gates are there for a REASON – but I am mostly irritated with myself. I should have thought to close the back door so the cats couldn’t go into the back yard, and I should have been more vigilant, and – hey, here’s a thought, dumbass! – I should have mentioned to the guys working in the back yard that the gates needed to be shut so the cats didn’t escape. We were really lucky this time that we didn’t permanently lose any cats.
“I hope you feel so guilty you give me lots of treats, you awful woman.”
You better believe it’s not going to happen again.
The same company who did the work running the electricity was supposed to come out Monday to run the water line from the pump by the pig yard out to the pond. I was worried that they’d leave the gate to the back forty open and that George and Gracie would escape.
“Should I make a sign for the gate?” I fretted to Fred. “I should, shouldn’t I?”
“Yeah, sure,” Fred said, clearly not listening to me.
So I made a sign and hung it on the gate.
And then I laughed and laughed and LAUGHED (inappropriate use of punctuation annoys us both) and sent the picture to Fred at work. He apparently got a kick out of it, too.
(And then I took down that sign and hung up the real one that doesn’t include quotation marks. I also used matching zip ties, because we want to keep it classy, yo.)
In the end, Fred cancelled having the guys come out and run the water line, because it was going to be expensive and really there’s no reason our current system (PVC pipe running along the fence line from the pump to the pond) won’t work perfectly well. Who are we trying to impress, after all?
Since we have the well now, we’re using that water to water the garden and to fill the pond. Once we have the water professionally tested (Fred tested it with an at-home kit once the well was running), we’ll start using it in the house, too.
AND since we have all that free water AND since it is hot as fuck here and it’s only mid-June, we went full redneck and bought a 15 foot by 42-inch pool and set it up right outside the back yard. We’ve been swimming (I should say “swimming”, because it’s neither deep nor wide enough to do anything more than float around) multiple times, and it is really freakin’ nice. The first day, it was FREEZING because the water from the well was about 20 below zero. The second day, it was a bit warmer. Yesterday, it was sheer perfection.
It’s not the beautiful in-ground pool we had at our first house in Madison, but it works well enough, and it cost, literally, 1% of what that pool cost.
Works for me!
Previously
2011: “OH MY STARS! Doesn’t ANYONE ever vacuum this room? Look at this mess!”
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: This weekend I’ll probably give vacuuming a try and give the Roomba a break.
2007: And since it’s still muddy in the garden, no weeding for me again today. Darn!
2006: “Save your breath,” I said, gasping for air. “I don’t believe a word you say, you lying liar.”
2005: “Spot caught a copperhead!”
2004: No entry.
2003: Poor Gram.
2002: Oh, quit with the gasps of horror.
2001: Lynn is very very nice, but as I’ve mentioned, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of silence.
2000: I was giving out dirty looks left and right, let me tell you.
We’ve been talking about getting a small pool just to sit in when it’s really hot out but unfortunately, the neighbors are too close and we don’t have a privacy fence so it’s pretty much out of the question!
Yay, Tommy was found. It amazes me how freaked out they get and won’t come to our voices after the bad people and noises are gone. I think we need to see pictures of the non-cement pond. Also, I think permanent signs on the gates would not be a bad idea. I bet somebody makes custom little metal signs you could get pretty cheap. You could design something cool and have them make up the signs. That way all the pressure is off you and on the workmen/women. We are in the process of having the outside trim on our house painted. This necessitates having some doors and windows open so they don’t get painted shut. Doors and some windows without screens. Oh, and it is 94-95 degrees here this week. So we have been sweating like pigs and chasing cats from room to room to keep them away from the rooms with open doors/windows. Good times. I know you wish it was you. By the way, check your mail. You should be getting a little something in the next day or so.
I’ll see what I can do about getting a picture – my good camera’s on the way back to me from Sony (it needed cleaning), so hopefully I can get a decent pic. 🙂
I’m planning to have real signs made for all the gates so that we don’t lose any more cats. I don’t think my heart can take that again!
You should send your pic to inappropriatequotes dot com. I love that site.
Oops. I meant unnecessaryquotes…
Yea I want to see pic’s of the “new pool” too! And glad to hear Tommy was found ok!
Robyn, You guys are amazing — not to mention clever! I just love reading about your life! I was worried when you said you wouldn’t be writing much at Bitchypoo, but my fears were unfounded: you’re still here! Not as often as I would like………. 🙂
Thanks and love,
Barb/Joan
When we got horses, I learned that one ALWAYS keeps gates closed. Wherever you are, if you go through a closed gate, by golly, you SHUT it back!!!
You know, it would never occur to me to go through a gate and leave it wide open – because it’s there for a reason, right??
so glad Tommy’s ok. Reading that story had me feeling the same as when our furry brat disappeared overnight. We’ve got bears, coyotes, mountain lions, bobcats and who knows what else prowling around here and I was sure she’d become someone’s dinner. We went out several times in the middle of the night looking and calling for her.
Husband was ready to kill her when he found her IN THE CLOSET!! She’d never gone out the door! I think they get a kick out of listening to you go bonkers calling and worrying.
I think you’re right! 🙂
Whew-what a relief that Tommy has been found. That must be an awful feeling, him being gone for so long, not knowing where he might be. Your squash looks beautiful, I have never seen a lemon squash before, how pretty!
I think I actually like them more than the crookneck squash – the seeds aren’t as big, and they taste pretty much the same. Also, the plants are SUPER prolific. We’re definitely going to grow them next year!
First cat I ever had got lost after we moved to a new house. I literally cried every night, spent most days calling her and…in general, going nuts. Several days later, late hubby had given up (even though he went house-to-house asking if anyone had seen my cat.)
I was lying in bed, late at night, sniffling as usual…and decided to go out and call Punkin again. Well, lo & behold, I heard her mewling…kinda of muted. I started walking toward the sound…closer & closer, her now meowing loudly. Turns out, she had gotten trapped under the vacant house next-door. I opened the door to the crawl space and she shot into my arms.
I was very happy that night, and Punkin (after eating a ton and drinking water) slept right beside me all night! She lived to be 20 years old. Never had a cat that lived that long again.
So glad Tommy was found safe and sound. My anxiety was getting worse and worse as I was reading about him missing. Phew!
When my husband and I were moving out of our first place together one of our cats went missing. And of course it wasn’t one of the ones we literally rescued off the street. Oh no. It had to be the purebred Abyssinian he paid $400.00 for that disappeared. Luckily we found him in a basement closet freaked out but otherwise unharmed. He didn’t get his nickname of The Brat Prince for nothing.
can u take a new pic of the pond now that it has more water in it? also, did you lose any fish when the water went low?
Yeah, I’ll get a picture when I get my good camera back. And no, we didn’t lose any fish at all – we were really worried that they were going to start dying, but I guess catfish are a hardy breed!
My comment has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with this entry, but anyway…how’s about that season finale of The Killing? Did you even for a second expect that?!?! I sure didn’t!
Warning: Spoiler involving the season finale of The Killing in this comment!
Katy, I totally did NOT expect that at all! I thought that there had to be a twist coming, since we looked at the clock 20 minutes into the episode and it seemed that everything was resolved, and were like “What’s going to happen for the next 40 minutes???”
It really got me at the end, when Holder said that Terry was “in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Which, you know, she didn’t know it was Rosie in that trunk, but she knew there was SOMEONE in there! Sure, it’s particularly tragic that it turned out to be Rosie, but the fact is that Terry was willing to kill someone she thought she didn’t know to keep a man, and ugh.
I thought it was a really good finale. There seems to be no word on whether the show’ll be back or not – I hope it is, if only because I love me some Holder. 🙂
Yeah, I was thinking something else was bound to happen because there was just way too much time left to kill (no pun intended). But Christ on a crutch, I never expected Terry to be involved like that. I was totally Team Terry when Mitch decided to “flee the interview” leaving the family high and dry, and part of me was even hoping she and Stan would play house together! And you are right on the money about Holder’s “wrong place/wrong time” line. That’s some horse hockey! Although, I would not kick him out of bed for saying it. 😉 I don’t know of any season finale that has ever thrown me that much for a loop. And the Rosie video to her family at the end…oy vey! As for another season, I do hope to see it return. I hope they don’t drag one killing out over two seasons next time. I hope Linden gets her act together with regard to her son. I hope she buys some Chap Stick; because for the love of God and all that is holy, that woman has the driest lips I’ve ever seen on TV. I hope….
That looks like a mightily well-fed Tommy to me. Glad you found him.
I’m having carpet and laminate flooring put in today, in two different parts of the house. This necessitated moving my bed (mattresses, anyway) from my bedroom to the living room for the night.
When I lifted the box spring off the frame of the bed, I heard a familiar jingling and a rattling noise. Once I got the box spring up on its side, I saw the source: One (or more) of my cats have torn a hole into the thin fabric covering the bottom of the box spring, and they had carried several of their squeaky/bell toys up into their “secret hiding spot,” and left them there.
The fabric stuff on the bottom of the box spring had several entry/exit points in it, plus it turned out someone had climbed up into their “secret cave” and puked – yeah, puked inside the box spring – so I just tore what was left of the fabric off and threw it away, then proceeded to move the mattress and box spring to my temporary “bedroom” in the front of the house.
I stacked the box spring and mattress together in the living room, the same way as I would put them on the actual bed, and threw a blanket over them. Then we went back into the back of the house to move the exercise equipment and other furniture out of the way.
At some point, my son realized that the front door had come open (I say he went out to check the mail and left it open; he swears not – of course), so we had to do an emergency Cat Count. Within a few minutes, everyone was accounted for except Packer – and Packer’s the one most likely to sneak out if the door’s open a tiny crack. He’s also the most affectionate and needy of all the cats, so when he didn’t come after I’d called him a few times, we realized he had to be outside.
So we put shoes on and went traipsing around the house, up in the cactus-and-brush area behind the house, knocking on neighbors’ doors asking permission to peek in their backyards. No sign of Packer. I came back to the house to get a pain pill, and my son suggested we call Packer again – maybe when we’d been calling before, he’d been dozing somewhere or just in a Mood, maybe he’d answer this time.
I didn’t think it likely, but we started calling – and lo and behold, heard a faint and muffled “mrowr?” coming from the area of the living/dining room. I have a cabinet set at an angle in one corner of the dining room, and he likes to jump down behind that cabinet, but then can’t jump back up. So I said, “I bet I know where he is!” and we tromped across the mattress taking up the middle of the living room to peer behind the china cabinet. No Packer. “Oh my God, could he have gotten into the innards of the standing freezer?!” Quickly we pulled that out and checked, but no sign of Packer, and now he’s not answering when we call any more. I even had a moment of panic where I thought, “He’s IN the refrigerator!” (He’s taken to poking his head in every time we open the fridge for any length of time, just in case there’s anything edible.)
We continued to call him, trying to get a response to tell where his cries were coming from. I thought, “Maybe he’s outside the living room window,” so we checked, but no. TJ and I finally flopped down on the makeshift bed in the middle of the living room, heads in hands, trying to think where on earth this cat could be.
As we flopped on the mattresses, Packer made a faint “mrowr!” again, and TJ and I glanced at each other in surprise. Was it coming from underneath us?? We quickly jumped off the mattress/box-spring and lifted them about 6-8 inches off of the floor… and here comes Packer, casually ambling out from his little vacation hideaway! Neither of us saw him go underneath the box spring, and we were both watching for cats the whole time, so I don’t know how he did it, but he’s lucky not to have gotten a tail or paw caught under the wooden frame part. (Or I guess I should say *I* am lucky – I’d be the one having to pay for the emergency vet visit, etc…)
Cats: Keeping you on your toes after your kids have grown up and learned how to behave more or less responsibly.
I had trouble reading this because I was so anxious about Tommy (even though I saw that you’d found him!).
Did Stinkerbelle notice he was gone, or react in any way when her beloved boy reappeared?