7/8/08

Those of you looking for the laundry soap recipe, it’s here.

I think I mentioned I was going to use it to do laundry over the weekend. I did, and it works very well, and there’s just the slightest scent of Fels Naptha soap when the laundry is done. If that bothers you, you can add a cup of white vinegar to the fabric softener bin in your washer, and your clothes will smell like nothing at all when they’re dry. (No, they don’t smell like vinegar at all, I promise.)

Unless you hang them out to dry, in which case they’ll smell like sunshine.

Edited to add: You can usually find Fels Naptha and Borax in the laundry aisle, but washing soda is really hard to find, at least around here. I ordered the soap (actually, several bars since it didn’t change the price of shipping) and the washing soda from here, and they also carry Borax.

That site does have a “make your own laundry soap kit” with pre-grated Fels Naptha, but I tossed my bar of soap in the food processor and it worked like a charm.

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Boneheaded things I have recently done:

1. When playing Scrabulous on Facebook the other night, I lined up my letters and hit “play word” and was incensed when I got the “invalid word” message. “That’s a word!” I protested loudly. I turned to Fred “Isn’t (the word) a real word?!” “Yes,” Fred agreed. “Well, goddamn Scrabulous won’t let me play it!” I was appalled. “H-A-R-E-L-I-P?” Fred spelled. Which is when I had to admit that I’d spelled it H-A-I-R-L-I-P. “That’s not a real word, it’s just another word for ‘mustache’!” Fred teased me. Luckily, I had the letters to play it spelled correctly, so all was good.

2. I mailed off ten bill payments yesterday and just now realized that I sent them off with 41-cent Christmas stamps affixed rather than the correct 42-cent stamps. So now I’m waiting to see if they get returned to me.

3. I went out to feed the pigs yesterday afternoon (usually Fred’s job, but he had to take Sugarbutt and Newt to the vet, so I offered to do it for him), and when I got out there, the pigs (who were sound asleep in their nasty fucking wallow, which they PEE IN if it’s not wet enough for them) came running and then they stood by the fence and started shaking the mud off while they waited for their food. Needless to say, I showered and changed clothes when I got back inside. Blech.

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With Nance and Trey’s absence, my house is far too quiet. Even the cats are laying around, depressed that they don’t have Trey to bully into petting them and rubbing their ears.

Miz Poo got all emo and set up a MySpace for herself, so that she can lament the loss of her boyfriend.

Actually what “Miz Poo” spent an hour doing on Saturday was:

1. Started up a new Gmail address for herself.

2. Tried to sign up with MySpace. ONLY she stupidly put in her true birth date (September 17, 1999), and since MySpace doesn’t DO cat years, it was under the impression that she was only 8 years old and wouldn’t let her sign up.

3. Tried again with her age in cat years.

4. No success.

5. Started up YET ANOTHER Gmail address for herself and tried to sign up with MySpace.

6. No success.

7. Fumed and fussed and fidgeted.

8. Got on Fred’s computer and tried to sign up with MySpace.

9. SUCCESS.

Apparently her lack of opposable thumbs makes this whole computer thing difficult for her, though. Trying to manipulate the mouse makes her cranky. Also? Get your own damn computer, cat!

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Fred got back from the vet yesterday to report that Sugarbutt has to keep the collar on for another week (his toes are healing, but slowly, and we need to keep him from licking between them and aggravating the condition). Also, the vet thinks that Newt’s tail was broken when he was younger and either never healed, or has been reinjured. We got pain pills for Newt: hopefully if the tail doesn’t hurt, he won’t worry at it and it can heal. But if it doesn’t get better in the next 10 days, the vet will have to remove the end of Newt’s tail and he’ll end up with a bobbed tail similar to Mister Boogers’.

I’m hoping it heals; I’m not looking forward to keeping Newt inside while his tail stumps heals.

Goddamn cats.

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Kara and the kittens are venturing downstairs more and more often. They don’t stay downstairs for very long (although Inara really likes to hang out with us in the living room every evening for a while), but it’s nice to see them venturing forth. Yesterday, Sugarbutt and Kara almost came to blows because Sugarbutt was trying to go hide in his closet (in the hallway) and she was blocking the entrance.

Our cats are also occasionally venturing upstairs during the day. Spanky and Tom have both been seen nose-to-nose with Kara. There’s always lots of hissing, but eventually our cats retreat and peace is restored.

“You want a piece of ME? Because I will mess you UP.”

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I went looking for Joe Bob the other day and thought he’d gotten out of the damn back yard again. After some closer looking, I realized he’d just taken refuge in the clump of whatever-it-is growing in a corner of the yard.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: Just a quick picture to let y’all know what we did with our Saturday morning.
2005: I turned and gave her the Bug-Eyed Look of Annoyance*, to no avail.
2004: “Agh!” I yelled. “I hate you kitties! I hate you all!”
2003: Do motherfuckers retain water?
2002: “Your cheatin’ heeeeeart…”
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.