| What American accent do you have?
Your Result: The Midland
“You have a Midland accent” is just another way of saying “you don’t have an accent.” You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
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| The West |
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| The South |
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| The Inland North |
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| The Northeast |
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| Philadelphia |
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| Boston |
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| North Central |
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What American accent do you have?
Take More Quizzes |
Good voice for TV or radio my ass.
* * *
Faith Hill claims that that whole thing at the Country Music Awards was a joke. I don’t know if it was or not, but since I’ve only ever heard good things about the woman – everyone is always talking about how sweet and kind she is – I guess I’ll choose to believe it was a joke.
I bet she’s regretting it, though. Must be a slow news week, eh? Isn’t there an election coming up soon or something they could focus on?
* * *
So Princess Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik are gone. I emailed the shelter manager on Monday to ask her about getting their shots, and she told me that they could get their shots that day, and they could go to the pet store anytime before Tuesday adoptions began.
Like I’ve said before, the smaller the cats are, the faster they go, so I ran them out to the shelter and got their shots on Monday. Monday evening we let them out of the room to roam. And late yesterday morning I took them to the pet store.
They’re such sweet cats, but I’m sad because I feel like we didn’t really get a chance to bond with them. We didn’t want to let them out of the cat room too soon (we were worried our cats would catch giardia from them), and that’s how our foster kitties always bond with us, by exploring the house and hanging out with us.
Fred said that it’s probably a good thing they went to the pet store so fast, because they were such sweethearts that we might have ended up with four more cats. Fred loves kittens who are about three months old because (he says) they don’t develop a personality before then (I disagree and offer up the example of one Maddy). And when I went into the kitten room this morning and Fezzik, Inigo, and Westley just about knocked each other for the privilege of flopping over on my feet, well, ya gotta love the little cuties.
I hope they’re all adopted by Monday, when I go to the pet store again. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand them sitting in their cages looking sadly at me.
Fezzik got a little too close to Spot. Spot hissed. Fezzik hissed back. Is there anything LESS scary than a hissing kitten?
Break my heart, why don’tcha?
* * *
We went out to the house last night. Fred got off work a little earlier than usual, so we were at the house before 4:00. I’d hoped to spend time outside clearing more of the side yard, but it was gray and rainy and just plain yucky out, so that didn’t happen. I slapped a coat of paint on a couple of doors then we ate dinner, and for the rest of the evening I yanked the coving (?) from the top of the baseboards in the upstairs hallway, scraped the wallpaper hiding behind the coving, and then taped the hallway and started on the stairs so Fred will be able to start painting tomorrow or this weekend.
Hopefully it’ll be nice enough outside on Friday that I can work outside most of the day. Not that I’m particularly an outdoorsy kind of gal, but if it’s between busting my ass clearing some of the weeds and overgrown crap from the land or painting, I’ll happily bust my ass every time.
Fred spent most of the evening puttying in the holes in the walls of the upstairs hallway and the stairwell. He also worked on the cat house (as mentioned in the middle of
this entry) for a while.
Maxi and Newt went to the neighbor’s house last week. When we showed up to work on the house this weekend, who was sitting there on the front porch waiting for us? Why, Maxi and Newt. They’ve been there almost every time we’ve been out to the house since. They don’t always stay on the front porch – sometimes they disappear for a while (we found Maxi in the back forty on Sunday; I assume she was out there hunting, despite the fact that there was a bowl full of cat food on our front porch because IF THE CATS HAD TO GO TWO HOUSES DOWN THE ROAD TO EAT THEY MIGHT STARVE TO DEATH). If we don’t see both of them at some point during our time at the house, we worry. We didn’t see Maxi last night until just before we left, and we were able to leave happy to know that she was safe. In fact, when Fred heard her outside howling he went out to greet her, then brought her inside to say hi to me.
Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats. (Though I told Nance that if these cats don’t end up inside cats – inside OUR house, that is – before the winter is over, I’ll eat my hat.)
I can’t imagine why they’re hanging around our house so much. Maybe because we always feed them and have water for them? Maybe because Fred was so worried they’d get cold that he put a box on the front porch for them to sleep in.
Maybe because Fred insisted that we bring an electric blanket from home to put in the box. I KID YOU NOT.
Maybe because we always give them a can of wet cat food before we leave.
Maybe because they’re aware that Fred is building them their very own house, which will sit on our front porch and which will have a HEATING SYSTEM (“Are you going to put crown moulding on the inside of the house?” I snarked at him last night. “No,” he said. “It’d take too much room. Maybe I’ll save that for when they decide they need more room and I add on to the house.”).
Maybe they just like us. Who knows? That Newt is going to be the death of me, he’s such a sweet little monkey.
* * *
To prove that I have NO PRIDE WHATSOEVER, I post for your enjoyment a picture Rick took of me. He snapped a picture of me and I said “Oh, great, take a picture of me with my mouth hanging open. I always look like an idiot in candid pictures!” And to illustrate the idea of looking like an idiot… well, take a look yourself:
Nance is sitting there frozen in horror that I’d actually post the picture, I bet. Heh! NO PRIDE, Nance. I have NO PRIDE.
* * *
“Waiter, there appears to be a kitten in my soup.”
Deceptively cute.
Maddy the mouth-breather.
(More pictures of Maddy and Maxi’s kittens
here.)
Previously
2005: It’s a fucking mystery.
2004: I seem to be a tad less fluttery today.
2003: No entry.
2002: Pictures.
2001: Fred in the dog house. Literally.
2000: I said “It’s a good thing you put your first AND last name, PLUS ‘your daughter’, otherwise I’d never have known!”
1999: Oddly, even though he’s had two doses of the antibiotic, he’s feeling worse instead of better. ]]>