* * *
Several people have emailed me, letting me know that they’re blogging for Blogathon this year. I’m sorry, but I don’t take part in Blogathon at all, in a blogging or (especially) donating capacity. I think y’all know that I happily contribute to charities and have donated to a lot of your causes and will continue to do so, but I don’t support Blogathon, haven’t for a couple of years, and don’t intend to in the future.
kthxbye.
* * *
Spoilers for the movie Premonition with Sandra Bullock and the hothothot Julian McMahon in this section; skip to the next if you haven’t seen it.
We watched Premonition last week, and I have to say that I liked it a lot, right up until the end. Like Fred said after the movie was over, we watched the whole goddamn movie with the belief that she might have a chance to save him, and yet he still died. We should have seen that coming, I suppose, but still we hoped.
There was a bug, though, and I’ll explain it in excruciating detail because I MUST. The movie opens with the girls waking Sandra Bullock up and telling her they’re going to be late; that’s on Thursday. Sandra Bullock takes the girls to school, and we see both girls’ faces several times, and the older one’s face is perfectly fine, no stitches. Later, at home, Sandra Bullock puts stickers on the sliding glass doors. BUT on Tuesday (or maybe Monday; it’s been almost a week since we watched it, so I can’t remember which), the older girl runs through the sliding glass doors, shattering them and cutting her face all up. Her face is still stitched up on Saturday.
But Thursday – no messed-up face, no stitches. That’s a pretty big bug, and there was no explanation for it that I can recall.
Still, I liked the movie right up until the stupid ending.
That Sandra Bullock, cute as a button.
* * *
Speaking of movies, I watched
Sense and Sensibility (another Netflix movie) yesterday. I’ve seen it before, but was struck with the need to see it again. I just love the hell out of Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet, and the part where Hugh Grant informs Emma Thompson that it was his brother who married, not him, and she bursts into tears and Mrs. Dashwood, Maryanne, and Margaret sidle out of the room is possibly one of my favorite scenes in all of moviedom.
* * *
Sugarbutt’s neck really isn’t getting any better, so I’ve got an appointment to take him to the vet tomorrow morning. Which reminds me – I need to get the cat carrier out this afternoon and leave it out so that when I snatch Sugarbutt up tomorrow morning to stuff him in the carrier, he won’t immediately know what I’m about to do, and fight to get the hell away from me.
Every time I get the carrier out of the closet, all the cats scatter – especially Miz Poo and Spot – and hide for a couple of hours. Once they get accustomed to having it sit in the middle of the computer room floor they sniff at it then forget about it. So when I pick Sugarbutt up tomorrow, he’ll just thing I’m going for a snuggle. Then I’ll stuff his ass in the carrier and he’ll feel all horrified and betrayed.
Sugarbutt has Stranger Danger issues.
* * *
When I am in the kitchen, I always and forever have company. This company is in the form of Spot, who believes that my being in the kitchen should always equal his receiving a tasty, tasty treat. I’m always happy to share if I’ve got something he might like – ground round or chicken, usually – but when I’m standing at the counter cutting up okra to dehydrate, I figure that’s not really his sort of thing. He still sits in the middle of the floor and stares at me. If I ignore him and keep cutting okra, he eventually starts squeaking at me, and the sound of Spot squeaking is like having nails drilled directly through my eardrums.
I’ve tried circumventing the squeak by showing him what I’m doing – holding out a tray of chopped okra – but he sniffs it and gives me the most disapproving look as if he’s thinking “Yeah, I see what you’re trying to distract me with. I don’t buy it. Give me some of the good stuff, BITCH.”
So when I’m standing in the kitchen cutting up something he wouldn’t be interested in, I start to get tense after a few minutes, because I can always see him out of the corner of my eye, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he starts with the goddamn squeaking again. Sometimes I swat at him with a dishtowel to run him out of the room, but he always comes back.
The other day I was cutting up cherry tomatoes for dehydrating, and I could see Spot sitting on a corner of the rug, watchingwatchingwatching me. I tensed up because I HATE that goddamn squeak he makes, and I chopped faster, hoping to finish and get the hell out of the kitchen before he could start in on me, but still he sat and stared.
Finally, I’d had enough. I grabbed a dishtowel, whirled around, and waved it at him, yelling “Get! Go!” at the top of my lungs. Which is when I realized I was yelling at a bottle of white vinegar, not Spot.
Probably the vinegar wasn’t going to start squeaking at me, but in case it was going to, it’s certainly been warned. You can’t trust those bottles of vinegar.
* * *
Yesterday Fred and I were sitting at our respective computers. I was looking up information on preserving okra – I’ve been slicing, dehydrating, and then freezing it, but Fred complained that he really likes whole okra, and so I was looking to see what I needed to do to prepare okra for freezing whole (answer: blanch, which REALLY brings out the snotty consistency), and I wandered across a page with interesting okra information.
“Huh,” I said out loud. “Did you know that okra is also called gumbo?”
“Uh, no,” he said.
“Interesting, huh?”
“I… guess so. Did she have big ears or something?”
“Um. WHAT?”
We turned from our computers to face each other.
“Did she have big ears?” Fred repeated.
“Who?”
Long silence, while we pondered the conversation and tried to figure out where we’d taken a wrong turn.
“Did you say
Oprah is also called dumbo?” Fred said.
I think we’ve both lost our hearing since we moved to this house. The number one thing we seem to say lately is “Huh? What? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”, which for some reason irritates the fucking shit out of me when Fred yells it to me from another room.
I tried to get Fred to use his cell phone for texting, so we could just text each other when I’m, say, in the kitchen and he’s in the front room.
He wouldn’t go for it, though.
* * *
I am very, very mean. I take the foster kittens a snack every morning and every evening (a couple of spoonsful of plain nonfat yogurt), but before I’ll give them their snack, I stand over them and say in a bizarrely cheerful voice, “Who ready for the yum-yums? WHO READY FOR THE YUM-YUMS?!” until Gilligan and Spanky “speak” to let me know that they, in fact, are
ready for the yum-yums, so hand it over lady.
“Please, might I partake of the yum-yums, lady?”
“I’ve got a belly and it’s needin’ the yum-yums. HAND OVER THE YUM-YUMS.”
Once the yum-yums are eaten, Gilligan and Spanky go after my feet, if I’m wearing socks.
They cannot abide the socks.
* * *
In what’s going to become the guest room sits the spud’s bed. We’ve been intending to move it out to the garage, but given that we’ve got no guests (NANCE), there’s no big hurry to do so. Atop the spud’s bed sits a small doll bed that my father made for the spud and which she left behind (she’s a wee bit past the playing-with-dolls stage). Atop the doll bed is a little mattress and quilt my mother made for the bed.
For these past few weeks, the doll bed has sat atop the spud’s bed, unmolested. No one’s looked at it twice, and then suddenly for no apparent reason, it’s become the place to be.
“I am former Senator Stanley J. Boogerton, and I approve this bed.”
Spanky, especially, likes the bed. He likes to spend his days on the bed atop the bed, and if you go past the doorway, he calls you in with his goofy little meow to come visit and see him in laying on the bed he believes was created just for him.
* * *
Previously
2006: I may have Hepatitis.
2005: But not to worry, it was just cramps. Whew!
2004: I want to rip her goddamn fucking ::fliiiip::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIIIP::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIP::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIP::TAP::TAP::TAP:: head off her stupid fucking goddamn neck
2003: No entry.
2002: I caught the eye of one of them, who noticed my intensely guilty terrorist-like face, and waved me over to wand me down.
2001: No entry.
2000: Because, you know, my life is so damn chaotic. Yeah.]]>
Have you ever tried pickled okra? Heaven! We like ours very spicy, but the milder forms are tasty, too!
Since you have been talking a lot about canning and freezing and dehydrating, i thought i would tell you about something my sis-in-law gave me for my birthday.
It is a jar of green tomato relish. I tried it at a catfish restaurant in Tennessee one time years ago and liked it and she remembered. It is durn good!
āIā¦ guess so. Did she have big ears or something?ā
I could see it coming….and STILL I spewed coffee all over my keyboard! I mean the big teary eyed laughter and all. Thanks for that!
Chris
Isn’t okra in gumbo, not called gumbo? Isn’t gumbo a Cajun dish?
I also have a question for your tomorrow question/answer session. You’ve talked a lot about your relationship with your Mom and it’s been apparent that while you love her dearly, she can get under your skin like no other. In raising your own daughter, have you had to consciously avoid becoming your Mom and having a similar relationship with the Spud to that which you describe having with your own Mother?
My daughter caught that with the daughter in Premonition also. And I thought well shit if she went through all that and figured everything out, why not be able to save him also. Just didn’t end right. Looks like Spanky’s chunky monkey butt is fixing to slip right off the big bed….
I command you do at least one video entry.
That little bed looks like it’s falling off the big bed?
Anyway, my Spartacus once had the troublesome spot that your Sugarbutt has; after trying Clavamox and ointments for about 3 months, we gave up and let nature run its course…it was resolved maybe after 6 months. Sometimes you’ve got to let the kitty deal with it by himself.
several years back, while you were visiting your parents in Maine, you mentioned your parents’ neighbors in a way that made it seem like there was some kind of story. You even said ‘more on them later’ but never followed through.
So what about your parents’ neighbors?
I have a question for you. Your cat Sugarbutt looks just like my Madison. Madison is about a year and a half now and she still looks so little to me, compared to other full grown cats I see. When do cat start filling out? How much should she weigh at her age? Maybe female cats are just naturally smaller? Maybe I have nothing to worry about? Thx.
Um, are you making a point (ROBYN!)? My bathroom is done. Ahem.
Ahhhh, yes that’s roughly what caused all the rows when we first moved to a bigger house – “TOOOOM!!” “WHHAAAT???” “COOOME HEEEREEE!” “WHYYY?” “I WANT TO SHOOOWW YOOOU THIS!!!” “BUT I’M BUSSSYYY!” “STOP YELLING AT ME AND COOME HEEREEE!” “BUSSYYYYY, BIIIITCH!!”etc. Oy.
Savage kittens going loopy for toes in socks also reminded me of Marsha when she was very small – she’s still a little hellcat but much friendlier now. I’m sure Gilligan and Spanky will deeply appreciate the work you did on their social abilities one day.
How did you guys and Nance/Rick meet face to face? being that alot of internet users are hesitant to actually meet?
I think it’s great by the way.
Deaf conversations can be oh so entertaining! Both my sisters and I are hard of hearing, so sometimes we can be in a conversation for several minutes before we realize we are talking about two different things. Like the one time one of us was talking about a ‘stud’ horse and the other was thinking ‘dead’ horse…
PREMONITION SPOILERS IN THIS COMMENT.
First of all, I thought her husband died too but at the end of the movie, SOMEONE is in the shower, right? Hmm….. That’s too funny, the cats on the little bed. This isn’t really a question but I think it would be so funny and cute to see a video of you saying “who ready for the yum-yums” and the cats’ reactions.
Yeah, pickled okra is the bomb. Not slimy @ all. š
The cats lying on the little bed on the bed are so cute! And I know what you mean about not hearing in that house. Buying this house moved us from a four room tralier to a ten room brick house. It is nonstop yelling of “What? I can’t hear you.” Where in that place you could hear from one end to the other.
Question for your “question/answer extravaganza”:
I don’t want to know what make/model Fred’s SUV was, but I’m dying to know why on earth he didn’t ever want divulge what it was. I remember reading a couple entries from his site from years past where he alluded to the fact that he wasn’t going to divulge the make/model of his SUV, but I never found an original entry that explained why.
So, my question is “Why didn’t Fred ever want to, and still doesn’t want to, divulge what his SUV was?”
When will you update the ‘cast’ page?
You have lost a significant amount of weight since that picture was taken at the quarry (I think). How about the classic Farmer/Daughter pose in front of the ol’ homestead? Pitchfork included!
PREMONITION SPOILERS in this comment.
My husband and I just watched Premonition a few minutes ago. I liked it very much and I thought that the ending was appropriate. I think it would have been too corny and predictible if he’d lived. My husband was a bit upset though. š The movie jumped around so much I didn’t catch the bug you mentioned.
I have the perfect new love song for you and Fred. By Kenny Chesney. (not sure of spelling)
“She thinks my tractor’s sexy…… it really turns me on ……”
Every time I hear about that, I think of you two.
Thanks for the pic of my fave Spanky – he looks too cute in that bed!
POSSIBLE PREMONITION SPOILER IN THIS COMMENT.
I try to warn everyone I know about Premonition. That movie pissed me off. Why did they take a perfectly wonderful movie and srcew it up? Why did they waste my valuble time AND my money and then send me home in a sad mood? I watch movies for entertainment. People die in real life. People should not die in movies. It’s not fair. It’s not right. Can I get a HELL YEA and AMEN!
Oh,, sorry,,,I get excited sometimes. lol
I’m going to chime in with the other 3 or 4 people who suggested it, and tell you to try pickling some okra. I know it sounds weird, but its really good! Not slimy at all. You get it around here (south mississippi)sometimes in place of the regular pickle. I had to be convinced to try them, but I never looked back after the first bite!
PREMONITION SPOILER IN THIS COMMENT.
Okay, for the clueless: when your spouse dies, you wonder/agonize forEVER about “what if” or “if I’d only”…SOMEHOW you could have saved them. ‘Premonition’ is actually therapeutic for those of us who HAVE lost spouses and KNOW that you CANNOT change destiny, no matter what you do. And IF you did…what then?
Sure, if you like “happily ever after” movies, you won’t especially like the ending. But IF, perchance you are a widow/widower (like myself and the woman behind me at the theater who sobbed all the way through the movie), you will UNDERSTAND the ending. In a more…well, meaningful, deep way.
As for the boo-boo, who knew? I mean, if you can dice the ending, why should you care about that anyway?
Well, here is my question for you. A number of times (OK maybe once or twice) you have said that you would like to visit Australia. Do you still want to do that?
I was reading an article yesterday in which NASCAR driver Greg Biffle spoke out rather strongly against that football player and dog fighting in general. He was a foundation which raises money for numerous animal charities, http://www.gregbifflefoundation.com/ It seems like a very worthy organization. Iām glad when people use their fame to better the world we live in. I’m not a fan of NASCAR, but I liked what he had to say on his web site, so I thought I’d pass it along.
I’ll piggyback onto Linda’s question, because I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my relative lack of travel the last few years:
Which places would never interest you as a vacation destination? Other states, other countries, other continents — which ones would you never care to see, and why not?
Do you have a set workout routine you try to stick with? Do you ever get cravings?
I have multiple cats like you and one has decided that he likes the corner of my bedroom more then his litter box. Have you had issues like this and if you do, what do you do to stop it and get the stick out!
The only thing that irritates me more than being talked to from another room when I *clearly* can’t hear is when I’m talking to my husband while he’s in another room and he’s all, “Huh? What? I can’t hear you!” Because isn’t it his job to have supersonic hearing? Heh.
My question: Lindsay Lohan?
I was wondering when all of your other cats have ‘real/official’ names that begin with “S” – why did you choose Tom Cullen?
Are you moving up the alphabet or are the others just coincidence?
What kind of laptop did you decide on? I know you wrote it somewhere, but can’t find it.
That last photo of Spanky (awesome!!)-there seems to be an octopus or a hand on the bed slat…what is that???
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diane