Yes ha ha HA, people, the Holy Cat Lady is NOT me.
1. I do not sport a mullet (I don’t have the patience to grow my hair out, or I’m sure I’d be totally mulletted up).
2. I have not broken the flannel out yet this year (actually, I’m not sure that I even own anything flannel…)
3. I do not buy my litter at Walmart (they don’t sell them in large enough containers).
4. Last time I bought litter, I bought 10 40-pound buckets of Fresh Step at Sam’s Club. That woman is an AMATEUR.
Thanks, you guys, for your dip recipes! Now my only problem is deciding which one to try first!
We had the most beautiful day yesterday. It was sunny and in the 70s. If you were in the sun, it was hot, but if you were in the shade it was just perfect.
Thank you, Mother Nature!
And now my favorite time of the year is coming, and will be gone far too quickly – the time of year when I can drag all my hoodies out of storage and wear them with jeans. I love short weather, but I REALLY love hoodie weather.
At the beginning of the summer, I went out and bought a 6-pack of men’s size large v-neck t-shirts, white ones, and then I dyed them different colors. They’re lightweight t-shirts, and all summer long I wore them around the house and they were just perfect. They show a bit more upper arm than I’d like (I prefer all my shirts to come all the way to the elbow so as not to traumatize anyone with my swinging arm flab), but they were the perfect size and weight, and I didn’t have to worry about getting them dirty or stained, because they were just cheap ol’ shirts.
They’re pretty well trashed now, so once I’m sure the weather isn’t going to turn warm again, I’ll turn them into cleaning rags and do it again next year!
Is it not amazing how the tiniest things can make the worst smells?
A few weeks ago, we had some broody hens sitting on eggs. Fred checked them to see which were growing and which were duds, and found one that was a dud. The hen had been sitting on it for a couple of weeks, so if he hadn’t taken it out from underneath her, it would likely have eventually exploded and made a huge mess.
He carried it out to the back forty when we went out to close up the big chicken coop.
“Listen,” he said. “Rotten eggs sound like firecrackers when they break!”
He tossed it into the pig yard, and he was right, it sounded just like a firecracker going off. The pigs ran over and nosed around the rotten egg, took a few bites, and then decided they weren’t interested.
And then the smell hit us. Rotten eggs, you may be surprised to learn, do not smell good. AT ALL. I was breathing through my mouth so I wouldn’t have to smell it, and I swear the smell was so thick I could TASTE it.
What’s worse is that we left the back forty and went into the back yard, and we could STILL smell it. It was nasty as hell. I don’t believe I’d ever smelled a rotten egg before, and I’d be just as glad to never smell one again.
Speaking of little things making big smells, I just cannot believe the SMELL that comes from a gassy kitten. Those damn things can clear a room! It’s just wrong to pick up a smiling, purring kitten, lean down to kiss them behind the ear, and then be assaulted by a stench from hell. AND THEY JUST KEEP ON PURRING AND SMILING UP AT YOU.
Don’t even get me started on the damn litter boxes. It’s all kinds of WRONG when you know which cat has just used the litter box because you recognize the smell (Sugarbutt has particularly pungent skunklike poops. Oh, sorry. Were you eating? Me too! Good thing about all this fostering, the nastiest things no longer phase me. Can I tell you how many cat asses I looked at yesterday? Actually, I can’t. I lost count.).
We’re getting close to the point where the True Bloods are almost ready to go to Petsmart and (hopefully) be adopted very quickly. Sam, Bill, Hoyt, and Lafayette have all lost their eyelips, and their eyes are looking really good. The biggest difference is in Bill – he used to sit around with his eyes squinched shut, but not you can actually see his eyes.
I’m going to call later and get an appointment with the vet, so she can look them over and decide whether their eyes need more tweaking, or are ready to go.
Speaking of their eyes – I was amazed yesterday when I looked at Terry. Now, I don’t know if I mentioned this in the past, but one of his eyes was cloudy and looked like there had been some damage to it. I figured it was going to end up being permanent damage, but that since he had the surgery, there’d be no more damage to the eye itself.
When I looked at him yesterday, that eye wasn’t cloudy. I think his eyes are getting BETTER.
That is just awesome.
“Lady, why would you need to reach your computer, when you can reach your Lafayette? Computers don’t purr! They also don’t bite and kick you when they’re feeling feisty, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Five of the six (Lafayette was laying over in front of my computer). My desk/ filing cabinet looks like this most of the time, with little brown tabbies piled up all over the place.
Six of the six!
Looky there – Bill has eyes!
Bill keeps an eye on the goings-on.
“Hey, guys! There’s a world out there! Come look!”
“EXCUSE ME, MY BED WAS MADE INCORRECTLY, I DIDN’T GET ANY FRESH TOWELS, AND I DIDN’T GET A CHOCOLATE ON MY PILLOW. WHAT KIND OF CUT-RATE PLACE ARE YOU RUNNING HERE?!”
We’ve had these kittens for a week, and I’ve only had to give two partial baths to clean poop off kittens. That may very well be a record!
(Fred pats himself on the back ALL the time for bringing home such awesome, healthy little kittens.)
Violet has the giggles.
Mike considers whether he might be hungry (he always is!).
Look at the SMILE!
I love how she looks all serious and earnest, like she’s trying to tell me something important and making sure she’s getting her point across.
“Who, me? Trying to break into the closet? Why, no! I’d never do that!”
“Really? You little brats knock the cat bed off the desk and that’s not enough for you? You have to sniff sniff SNIFF at my tail, too? Well, I’ve been patient, but I’ve had ENOUGH! Cut it out, squirt!”
Previously
2008: Did I mention SHADDUP, YOU?
2007: No entry.
2006: No need to send out the announcement that we’re freaks just yet, I suppose.
2005: What a fucking day, I tells ya.
2004: Which makes me think he’s out there talking shit about me, of course.
2003: I know I’ve lived in Alabama too long when 70 is a bit too cool for me.
2002: No entry.
2001: I swear, my work is NEVER done.
2000: No entry.