For weeks now, we’ve had little bitty moths randomly appearing and flying around the kitchen. Also, occasionally, we’d see a little inchworm. The cats have been enjoying both the moths and the inchworms, and are pretty good at chasing down, eating – and barfing up – the moths. I had a canister of cornmeal on top of the pantry, and when I got my lazy ass to looking around for the source of the moths and inchworms, I found many moths and inchworms in the canister of cornmeal.
I put the canister of cornmeal in the refrigerator and over the next few days fed the cornmeal (and the moths/ inchworms) to the girlz. Problem solved!
Or so I thought. It’s never that easy, is it?
The moths kept appearing and the inchworms kept inching, and I checked the flour and the sugar and found nothing.
“I think it’s just the moths and inchworms left over from the cornmeal. They were hiding somewhere, the cats will eventually catch and eat them all, and then there’ll be no more,” I theorized to Fred.
But the moths kept coming.
Yesterday, finally annoyed enough to do something about it, I cleaned out the pantry. In the pantry, I found a forgotten bag of cornmeal (once upon a time sealed in a OneZip bag, but which had been chewed through) that was loaded up with moths and inchworms. I also found a bag of tortillas, rock-hard and loaded up with the same.
I emptied the pantry and tossed out the old stuff, wiped down the shelves, wiped everything off, and put it back in an organized manner.
NOW perhaps the problem is solved.
It’s amazing how much more room you end up with when things are organized in a cabinet rather than just tossed in there any old way, isn’t it?
We watched Sunshine this past weekend (it was kind of eh, but we’re not as picky when it comes to movies lately, because there’s never nothin’ on TV and we’re a little desperate), and I have to say, no offense to his fans, but Cillian Murphy is THE most evil-looking man I’ve ever seen. It gives me chills (and not in a good way) just to look at him. It might be the really light eyes, or maybe he kills puppies and buries them in his back yard in his spare time, but whatever it is, I sure wouldn’t want to be stuck in an elevator with him.
I decided he’d be excellent as Randall Flagg.
Last night we started watching The Brave One, but stopped it about half an hour before the end so we could go to bed. I was under the impression, when we started watching it, that it was an hour and a half long. I might have been under this – erroneous, as it turned out – impression because when I looked on the front of the sleeve the DVD came in, it listed the length as being 1 hour 30 minutes. At 1 hour 20 minutes, I said “I do not see how on earth this movie is going to resolve in less than ten minutes.”
It didn’t, ’cause it had another 30 minutes to go. This is not the first Netflix movie that has claimed to be 1 hour 30 minutes on the sleeve, and then ended up being quite a bit longer.
In any case, it’s not bad. I love me some Jodie Foster, because she’s one of the few child stars who has her shit together as an adult. Also, she strikes me as extremely competent – if you were friends with her and you had a problem, she’d totally roll up her sleeves and get in there and fix it.
Please don’t tell me she’s a flighty mess in real life. I don’t think I could handle the heartbreak.
My baby.
Previously
2007: She became entirely liquid somehow, and flowed through my fingers and across the room, ending up under the bed.
2006: I think that the next thing Apple should create is a cell phone/ iPod player.
2005: Yes, I use the same kind of lotion as my CAT.
2004: No entry.
2003: Anyway. Enough about my underwear.
2002: You’ve been warned, skank hos out there who would swoop down upon my husband in his grief and get him to marry you.
2001: Yeah, that’s me, not giving a shit if they can see me or not…
2000: Really, what other journaller will thrill you with pictures from the litter box?