Psst! You, searching on “fajita pie” yesterday. Did you mean quesadilla pie, maybe?
(I tend toward calling it “tortilla pie, I mean quesadilla pie. No. Tortilla pie. Wait. What the hell is it called again?”, myself.)
I am in the market for a decent dutch oven, but NOT one of those freakin’ Le Creuset dutch ovens that cost $200+ because, please. I’m not spending no $200+ for a dutch oven, I don’t care how awesome it is. I’m looking for a bigger one, in the area of 5 – 6 quarts.
I was thinking of one of these.
Opinions, suggestions?
On Sunday, when Fred and I were driving to look at the boat we ultimately did not buy, Fred said “We need to come up with a code phrase in case there’s something about it that you absolutely hate, to let me know that I shouldn’t buy it.”
We considered, and then I grinned and said “How about ‘tippytoe’?”
Fred laughed out loud, and I was pleased that he’d gotten my joke. And then he said “Why ‘tippytoe’?”, and my bubble burst.
(For the uninformed, it’s from an episode of Seinfeld. God, I miss that show. Friends, too. And no, I didn’t see the Seinfeld reunion on that Larry David show because we have no premium channels like HBO or Showtime. I figure I’ll see it when it comes out on DVD.)
Doesn’t it just SUCK when you make an inside joke like that and the other person doesn’t get it?
A few weeks ago, June wrote an entry, and in it she mentioned that she’s doing this crazy-ass new thing she’s calling Make June Do It wherein her readers tell her to do something they’ve always wondered about but never done, and she’ll do it. Naturally, everyone wants her to get a Brazilian wax, because frankly who does NOT want to cause someone on the internet a great deal of pain?
(Please note that there will NEVER be a “Make Robyn Do It” portion of this journal.)
Anyway, she told her husband Marvin about it, and he was less than enthusiastic about the idea, and she wrote I have the only husband in the world who prefers the Jiffy Pop look.
When I read that, I laughed so loud that all the cats in the room folded their ears back and went running for cover.
So a few nights later I was telling Fred about what I’d read (I meant to tell him immediately after I read it, but then I saw something shiny and I forgot for a few days until the memory bubbled up to the surface of my brain) and I was all “BWAH! HAH! HAH! AND THEN SHE SAID SHE HAS THE ONLY HUSBAND WHO PREFERS THE JIFFY POP LOOK!”
He did not get it. At all. I tried to explain, but he failed again to get it. He tried to say that maybe it was because he’d never HAD Jiffy Pop. I tried again to explain. Nope. Didn’t get it, wasn’t funny.
I HATE IT when the person who’s supposed to understand and giggle along at the things that make you laugh REFUSES TO GET IT. It’s like he purposely didn’t get it. Oooh, it just enraged me. I wanted to smack him. I wanted to file for divorce.
DAMN IT.
And now instead of thinking “June has the only husband in the world who prefers the Jiffy Pop look” and guffawing silently to myself, I will forever be consumed with rage that Fred DELIBERATELY AND WITH MALICE AFORETHOUGHT did not get it.
Bastard.
So, on Saturday morning when I went in to give the True Blood 6 their morning snack and shoot antibiotics down the throats of some of them and ointment in the eyes of most of them, I noticed something odd was going on with Sam’s right eye. Basically, his eyelip had peeled off and was hanging there by a stitch. There was no blood and what was left where the eyelip had been looked pretty good, actually. It being Saturday, I couldn’t take him to the vet, so I just smeared ointment on the part where the eyelip had been and shot worried looks at it for the rest of the weekend.
Yesterday morning, I called the clinic and made an appointment for late afternoon to bring Sam in, as well as Lafayette and Hoyt. Both their eyelips are looking pretty ugly right now, like they want to peel away, and I wanted her to take a look and see what was going on.
In the morning, though, I put all six of them in carriers and took them up to the shelter so they could get their vaccinations.
(Jake and Elwood investigate the carriers to make sure they’re secure.)
They handled it fairly well (except for Lafayette, who always fights everything. He’s always the hardest to medicate, and as for putting the ointment in his eyes – boy, he REALLY fights that. He sure is a sweet boy otherwise, though!) and soon enough we were home again.
I let them out of their carriers, and they all went and ate and drank a little, and when I checked on them about ten minutes later, they were all napping. As it turned out, the vaccinations they’d received really knocked them for a loop, and they napped all afternoon long.
At 3:30 I put Hoyt, Lafayette, and Sam in one carrier and headed for the vet. They slept the entire way.
Basically, most of the eyelip graft on Sam’s right eye took. Once she clipped the dangling eyelip away (it was literally only hanging there by a stitch, so it didn’t hurt him), we could see underneath, and it looked really good. She thinks that, ultimately, all their eyelips will slough off, leaving healthy tissue behind. Hopefully all their grafts will take underneath, because that’s really the important part, the part that’s actually touching their eyes. If need be, skin can be pulled down to make their eyelids look right.
She checked both Hoyt and Lafayette, and said that both their grafts are vascularizing and look okay (they’re ugly, but like she said – they’re going to get ugly before they get pretty!), so we’re going to leave them alone.
As always, it was good to hear that all is well and I don’t need to worry!
At home, once I let the three of them out of their carrier, all six of them piled up to sleep. They were uninterested in their evening snack, and spent most of the evening sleeping, as well.
This morning? Back to normal, completely. It’s amazing how quickly they bounce back, isn’t it?
Hoyt and Sookie.
Hoyt (left), Lafayette (right), and Bill (background).
Sam thinks the carrier’s a great spot for napping. He hasn’t developed fear of the carrier yet.
Sookie, napping hard.
Snoozin’ Lafayette.
Previously
2008: It took me ’til dinner time to get the house cleaned, and I swear to god the house doesn’t look any different at ALL.
2007: No entry.
2006: He shifted position and eyed Fred with bright-eye malevolence.
2005: Maybe I just like to bitch, y’think?
2004: Waiting for Ivan.
2003: No more Benifer. How sad.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Speaking of N Sync – that Lance Bass is a cutie, but I get the distinct feeling that although the lights are on, no one’s home.