Fostering – Page 79

8/29/08

In the dehydrator right now – cayenne peppers (the red ones) and habaneros (the orange ones). To say the air in the kitchen is spicy is understating it – I can’t take a deep breath in there without feeling like I’m setting my lungs on fire. When the peppers are dehydrated all the way, I’ll grind them up and we’ll have ground cayenne pepper (which I use in some recipes) and ground habanero pepper (which I won’t touch with a ten-foot pole, but Fred thinks he’ll sprinkle it on his food sometimes. We’ll see how THAT goes).

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Friggin’ spiders. One built a web outside one of the windows by my desk and then abandoned it, and a small beetle blundered into it yesterday. I figured it would die quickly so I ignored it, but a day later it was still out there weakly kicking and trying to free itself, so I finally went out and rescued it.

And then fed it to one of the chickens.

What? It’s the circle of life!

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Note: This is NOT Nance‘s Maddy.

This week has been a tough one here, my dear Maddie cat left us, after a very brief battle with non-regenerative anemia that wore her body down until we decided to do what’s best and put her to sleep. Our big fear was that the anemia was caused by Feline Leukemia or Immune Syndrome, and would affect our other fur kids. Thankfully, it wasn’t, (the vet said it was a cancer, but not one of the contagious ones) but we’re already doing what we can to immunize our other kids (not that they like it much). Could you please alert your readers to the need for immunization against this very contagious virus in cats? I appreciate it! (And so does Maddie!)

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Aw, poor Kara. I bet she is missing the kids. Makes me sad. Will she be going to the pet store or is she spoken for?

and

Are you still planning on keeping Kara a little longer by herself after you take the rest of the babies to the pet store?

She’ll be going to the pet store eventually, but there’s such a backup of cats right now that it may be a while. I’d love it if someone happened across her picture on the PetFinder site and fell in love with her (she’s such a sweet thing!) so she never had to stay in a cage – for that matter, I’d love it if someone would fall in love with Kaylee and Zoe online too, because I’d be perfectly happy if none of them ever had to be in a cage. What will likely happen, though, is that Kaylee and Zoe will go to the pet store when there’s room, and Kara will go at a later date. It’ll all depend on how adoptions go – right now, they’re pretty slow.

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We used to raise pigs for slaughter on a small scale years ago – I still shudder when I remember what we went through to get those pigs loaded for the trip to the butcher! We tried to do it on our own the first time – after much reading and planning and talking to the “real” farmers. It didn’t go very well. One jumped off the truck even though we thought we had it set up so that wouldn’t happen. My husband ran after it and shot it. We(he) bled it out but the butcher refused to take it if it didn’t walk in. It made me sad for a very long time that the poor pig went through that and was left for the butcher to dispose of.

Anyway, what I really wanted to share with you is what our butcher would do with the pig loins. He’d remove them both, stick a knife down the length to make a “tunnel”, then put the opening over the sausage making machine nozzle and stuff it with garlic sausage. (We always had some garlic sausage made so he just used some of it for the stuffing). Our whole family really loved those stuffed tenderloins roasted up. Something you may want to try sometime if it appeals to you.

I had such a fear that the pigs would somehow break out of the trailer when we were going down the road at 40 mph and go tumbling off the side of the road, breaking a leg or two in the process. I told Fred he needed to bring a gun with us just in case – he didn’t (he forgot), but luckily we didn’t have any problems with the pigs. THANK GOD.

That garlic sausage-stuffed tenderloin sounds FABULOUS.

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Also, maybe I missed this, but is River part Bengal? Just curious.

Not that I’m aware of, but we don’t know what his father looked like, since Kara showed up as a stray on someone’s front porch. It’s possible he could be!

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My husband just recently bought that same cat carrier but when we put our fat cat in there the top seems like it’s going to pop off. What’s the heaviest weight you’ve put in it? Our kitty is 16lbs, do you think it’ll be fine? I say so but he doesn’t like it.

I think Tommy’s our heaviest cat at about 12 pounds, and I think he strains the carrier a bit. If I were you I’d go ahead and use the carrier, but instead of carrying it by the handle, carry it by the body of the carrier. Also, if you haven’t already, you can reinforce the parts where the top and bottoms join with twist-ties so you don’t have to worry about it popping apart at that point (let me know if that part is confusing, and I’ll post pictures).

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I saw this video and thought you’d like it. It’s about a woman who has 500-700 cats on a 6 acre sanctuary. None of them are in cages – they just roam around happily. All of the cats are available for adoption at any time.

I’m pretty sure I’ve linked that video before, but just in case, I’m linking it now!

It would be my DREAM to have a sanctuary like the Cat House on the Kings. In fact, last weekend when Fred and I were dreaming of winning the lottery (we matched ONE number in five quick-pick tickets. Ugh!) one of the things I insisted on was that we’d have a building and a very large amount of fenced-in land devoted to cats, and Fred actually agreed. We’ll see what happens when we DO win the lottery (and we will!).

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Robyn, something to add to your book reading queue… and DVD watching queue… solely for you to read/watch it first and report back to your readers, so we don’t waste our money if it turns out to be bad…hee hee.
“America Unchained” — a book + documentary about a British visitor who goes across America not staying in one chain hotel, not eating at one chain restaurant, not even patronizing Starbucks, my goodness! ….only using Mom and Pop establishments ala Alabama backroads…. searching for the America of yesteryear… Sounds very interesting but I don’t know… anyone out there read/watch this? Evidently it won some documentary award.

How about it – anyone seen/ read it? It does sound interesting!

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I know you’re a cat person, but this http://thechaistory.blogspot.com/2008/08/chai-story.html breaks my heart. I wanted to see if you would maybe post a little about it next week to help spread the word, since I know many cat people also have dogs.

That is so sad – poor Chai!!!

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So we went to see one eyed, one eared rescued kitteh at lunch today. Totally scrawny and beat up but making biscuits and stretching out so looks like a save for the good guys. However, I think foster Momma is going to keep the baby. You know that look you get when you are in love with the baby kitteh? She has it times 10. However, she is evil in that she then shared that they had two kittehs that need homes. Brother and sister, about 6 months old, completely cute and fuzzy and lovely. Names are Owen and Filomena (sp?). Of course we had to go see them and hold them. Owen has white paws which are my huge weakness. Here we were innocently checking in on rescue kitteh and they sucker punch us with the twin homeless kittehs. ARRRGGGH!

Ooh, that is a BRILLIANT woman. Total bait and switch!

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I was reading an entry one time, I couldn’t even tell you when! And someone was describing a story to see if you recognized the plot to name the book. Some readers thought it was the Shell Seekers, but other confirmed it was not. I was just wondering if anyone ever identified the title, it sounded so interesting.

I bet you’re talking about the book Elayne was looking for, back in November – her comment is here. So far as I know, she still hasn’t been able to locate it!

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Please tell me that Fred did not seriously think that Amish piglets wouldn’t stink and/or behave like other piglets? Religious piety or refusal to participate in the English culture causes piglets to behave differently or causes people to scrub them clean 20 or 30 times a day?

No, he was just kidding. Also, I think he just forgot how very bad the pigs smelled when we brought them home. God, those things smelled BAD. I had to take a shower when I got home, had to toss my clothes in the washer, and I never even touched the damn things, just spent half an hour in an enclosed space with them!

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And for the love of god, does the period go inside or outside the quotation marks? I can’t friggin remember!

The period goes inside the quotation marks, I think. I know someone reading this knows the answer, so if I’m wrong, y’all let me know!

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I must admit, I’m from New Zealand, and tend to put “r”s on the ends of words when they follow each other. So some how, pizza and beer become “pizzerandbeer.” And a American friend of mine told me once that it’s not “pizzer.” But that’s just how I talk, and if I tried to change it, I’d probably only sound really weird.

As far as I’m concerned, nothing any New Zealander says in that adorable accent could EVER be wrong!

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I only have two cats, but I’ve seen them in that pose in front of my back door too. Cracks me up that Maxi didn’t pounce AND that the squirrel was that insane to test those waters. Were the cats making that lovely ‘chittering’ sound as I call it? They always let me know when there is something capturing their attention.

Every once in a while we’ll get a cat to make that noise – I call it “chattering” – but usually they’re silent. Tommy will occasionally meow bitchily and Miz Poo will whine, but most of the time they don’t make a noise.

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Ok, this just really wrecks my head. My husband’s stepmother says “twiced” instead of twice. I mean, it’s like she wants to be even more annoying than she already is.

The funniest part of this comment is it’s like she wants to be even more annoying than she already is. I read that and just laughed and laughed, for some reason!

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Well, since you don’t like goats have you considered these: http://www.miniaturebull.com Also, did you convince Fred you need a Roku for your streaming video needs?

God, they sure are CUTE. I did try to convince Fred that we need one of those, but he says that at $2,000 each, they’re too expensive. Hey – we could start our own miniature cattle business! We could probably fit 40 or 50 out there on the back forty!

I haven’t convinced him that we need a Roku yet, but I was a Flip video camera before I want a Roku, so I need to space my demands out so he doesn’t start accusing me of being spoiled and spendy. (Which I am, of course!)

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But it’s my husband who incites my wrath the most, poor Southern guy that he is, when he says bedroom SUIT instead of bedroom SUITE, and INsurance, and insists on calling fuel gasoline instead of just gas, like the rest of the world.

Please imagine that I am hugging you in complete and total understanding on the suite/suit issue. Here in the South, they said “Bedroom suit” in the radio ads, and it drives me NUTS. NUTS I SAY.

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O my! That’s a cute little pudgy belly on your squirrel friend. Wonder where he gets his food? Hmm?

I see where you’re going with this question, and you are WRONG.

I do not bake cookies for the squirrels. I don’t!

(Yet.)

(And only because I haven’t stumbled across a recipe for cookies to feed them. Give me time.)

The squirrels get their food as nature intended. From the bird feeders!

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“She’s a sweet little lovebug (though after a few minutes of petting she gets bitey), but I would not be surprised if she murdered me in my sleep”.

Do you have any idea why this happens? My cat also wants to be petted but after a minute or two she gets bitey too.

I think it’s just a matter of some cats have a higher tolerance – Maxi and Tommy are our two who seem to get overwhelmed pretty quickly (maybe it’s a black cat thing?), but some of our other cats – Miz Poo in particular – can be petted vigorously for a long, long time without resorting to grabbing and biting.

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Do you have your pets in your will/living will?

No.

This is where I horrify y’all by admitting that I don’t have a will OR a living will. Neither does Fred. And I know I need them both, especially since I’ve turned 40 and could drop dead of old age at any moment! You know what? I’m going to make it my goal to have both a will AND a living will drawn up before I turn 41. Because what happens if Fred and I both die in a horrific car accident?

(AFTER it takes three weeks for people to realize we’re not around, that is.)

I can tell you that Fred and I have discussed what our wills would say – they’d be simple ones; if he goes first I GET EVERYTHING WOOHOO PARTY TIME! and vice versa. But if we were to die at the same time, what we’d like to have happen is, um. Well. I was going to say that we’d leave directions for a large donation to the pet shelter, and that the cats would go back to the shelter (since most of them came from there in the first place), but if I could arrange it so that the cats were to go to good homes instead, obviously I’d prefer that.

So. Who wants which cat?

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Zoe. The tucked-under paws make me want to pick her up and squeeze her. In the background, Kara’s in her favorite spot – watching the guy next door sit on the deck. Sometimes she growls at him.

This picture is cracking me UP.

Smilin’ Zoe.

Kaylee has got the cleanest, whitest fur I’ve ever seen on a kitten.

Zoe in the cat tree.

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Mister Boogers hets Van Morrison.

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Kara, sitting on the wall between the computer room and dining room. Stinkerbelle, under the table, shoots hate rays at her (for being the interloper) and at me for not giving her Snackin’! Time! when she wants it. Miz Poo, on the table (what? We never EAT there!) snoozes away in her favorite cat bed.

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Previously
2007: It was someone with a vendetta.
2006: Time to give up the raw vegetables, at least for the time being.
2005: John Cusack, however, has become suddenly completely unappealing to me.
2004: No entry.
2003: I see a little silhouetto of a Poo,
2002: Damn him.
2001: Jayzus, I can’t wait ’til I’m Supreme Ruler of the World, and I can run around ordering the death of people who annoy me.
2000: Here we see Miz Poo at the tail end of a Fancypants swish-by. She looks none too pleased.

8-27-08

I think the comments to yesterday’s entry are probably my favorite comments EVER. I don’t know how many comments I read and nodded my head in agreement. Probably ALL of them. If you don’t usually read my comments, you should go back and check out yesterday’s! If I were more talented or motivated, I’d write … Continue reading “8-27-08”

I use “Wherefore” incorrectly (it actually means “Why”, which I didn’t know ’til GG mentioned it in my comments. Obviously I don’t know my Shakespeare.), but you probably shouldn’t expect me to change how I use it. I don’t think I use it a LOT.

Apparently there’s a “Know what I mean?” epidemic going on. Fred and I both use it, but for us it’s shorthand for “GODDAMNIT ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

Other shorthand we use: “Huh.” in response to something the other person said, and it means “I have no interesting response to what you’re saying, but I hear and understand you.” OR it might mean “I’m not really listening to you, you just keep on yammering about whatever boring-ass shit you’re yammering about, and I’ll periodically say “Huh” to indicate that you can keep going ’til you run out of breath or we all die.”

“Huh” is very versatile, no?

In email form, we use “Cool.” to indicate “I have received your message and understand what you’re saying.”

And I use “WHATEVS” (in emails and comments, I don’t believe I’ve ever said it aloud) to indicate that I know I’m a blithering idiot BUT I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, I’M STICKING BY MY STUPIDITY.

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The lost water bottle was not, in fact, hiding under the secretaire with the cat toys and the Feliway, but only because it wouldn’t fit under there, I’m sure. It was actually sitting on the kitchen counter. Where I looked one million times before I located it. I hate it when something’s sitting right in front of you and you don’t see it.

Oooh. That totally sounds like the beginning to a woman’s magazine article, doesn’t it? An article about not appreciating your life until…? You look at it from a different angle and realize that the key to happiness was RIGHT THERE ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER ALL ALONG.

One dollar, please.

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It rained a lot on Monday and it rained a lot more yesterday, but I still collared up the boys and opened the back door so they could go into the back yard, because if I don’t let them outside, they drive me NUTS with the big hopeful eyes and the repeated attempts to herd me toward the back door so that I can see that the door Must! Be! Opened!

Most of the cats will stick their noses out the back door, see that it’s raining, and come back inside to pout. Tommy does not. Tommy LOVES to be out in the rain. When it is raining, Tommy runs outside, does a lap around the back yard, and then sits on the patio under a chair – which doesn’t shelter him from the rain at ALL – until he’s drenched. And then he comes inside and gets up on my desk and gets everything all wet while he grooms himself for half an hour, and then he runs back outside, does a lap around the yard and ends up on the patio again.

I have never seen a cat so completely unbothered by getting drenched. Weirdo. He loves being outside more than any of our cats. If we didn’t live so close to the road, I’d seriously consider letting him become an outdoor cat.

Well. No, I probably wouldn’t. I’d worry about him too much!

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Kara had a bit of a down day yesterday; she acted quiet and kind of reserved, not at all like her usual super-friendly “Pet ME! No, ME, not those kittens!” self. Fred thought that she was coming to the realization that her kittens weren’t coming back and perhaps grieving a little. I don’t know about that – maybe he’s right – but I was relieved this morning to find that she’s back to normal. At least she’s got Zoe and Kaylee to keep her company and to play with. She’s approaching our downstairs cats more and more often,a nd if there’s an altercation between any two cats, she’s Johnny-on-the-spot, there to supervise the smackdown and perhaps do a little smacking and hissing herself.

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Newt always finds the most interesting out-of-the-way places to snooze.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I think our cats are as antisocial as we are.
2003: Damn PMS Fairy.
2002: You know, I don’t believe that once you become a parent, every bit of you has to be absorbed into that role.
2001: Dumbass, thy name is Robyn.
2000: No entry.

8/26/08

Words (or phrases) that Fred uses, that drives me absolutely bonkers (and not in a good way): 1. Onesie, twosie. Used when describing one or two at a time instead of a whole bunch. Example: “We’re going to do them onesie, twosie instead of a bunch at a time, right?” What is he, three years … Continue reading “8/26/08”

Words (or phrases) that Fred uses, that drives me absolutely bonkers (and not in a good way):

1. Onesie, twosie. Used when describing one or two at a time instead of a whole bunch. Example: “We’re going to do them onesie, twosie instead of a bunch at a time, right?” What is he, three years old?

2. Cucurbit. This is a new one, and it drives me to the verge of homicide every single time. Example: “I think that might be a melon, I can’t quite tell. It’s definitely in the cucurbit family, though.”

3. Mepergan Fortis. I don’t know why he can’t just call it Demer0l or whatever the fuck other people call it. No, every time, both words. KILL. (PS: I don’t think we’ve actually had any Mepergan Fortis in the house since he had his shoulder operated on two years ago, but it still drives me nuts.)

What words or phrases do people use, that drives you nuts? Real people in real life, not TV people. Although that Rachel Ray “once around the pan” thing kind of annoys the ever loving shit out of me. Okay, you can include TV people. Web people. Everyone!

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I seem to have lost my water bottle. It’s in the house somewhere, but fuck if I know where. It was 3/4 full and I’m thirsty. And yes, I have other water bottles in the fridge, but I want THAT water bottle. Wherefore art thou, water bottle?

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Yesterday I was puttering around in the kitchen and turned around to see Joe Bob hunched in the middle of the kitchen rug.

“Whatcha doin’, Joeby*?” I said.

He turned a little, and I saw that he had a small bird in his mouth.

“Well, shit,” I said, and grabbed him. After a moment’s consideration I figured it would be best to carry him – bird still in his mouth – outside and then scream “LET IT GO! LET IT GO! YOU SHIT! LET IT GO!” At least that way, if the bird wasn’t too hurt to fly, it could fly off outside instead of around the house with me running after it.

I got to the back door and just as I opened the screen door, something happened that caused Joe Bob to start flailing wildly. I tried to hold on to Joe Bob, but he was flailing too wildly for me to keep hold of him, and he ended up falling a couple of feet onto the top step. He ran out into the middle of the back yard then sat down and began licking himself. I ran after him to make sure he was okay (he was) and then I looked around to see if I could see where the bird had gone. Both Joe Bob and Tommy were staring up into the top of the tree and after I looked around in the kitchen, dining, and laundry rooms, I decided that the bird had started to get away from Joe, flew off as I opened the door, and that’s what caused Joe to flail about.

Half an hour later, as I was walking from the bathroom toward the kitchen, I glanced into the computer room and saw every cat in the house huddled around something, staring intently.

Goddamn.

Somehow, despite the fact that the little bird was ON the floor, surrounded by a large number of cats, and had probably been fluttering around the house for a long time while I walked around with my head in the clouds, SOMEHOW the little bird was still alive. I pushed cats out of the way, picked the little bird up, opened the door to the side yard, and the little bird flew off.

Sometimes there’s a happy ending.

(Or, considering the blood he left behind on my hands, perhaps he flew off to die a slow, excruciating death somewhere. I prefer to believe he lived and will continue to do so for a good long time.)

*Could be, I suppose, “Joe B.”, but I think of him as “Joeby.”

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I don’t remember what she was appalled by, but apparently it was quite SOMETHING.

Sweet little Zoe.

Kara, lookin’ smug.

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Spanky is the Happiest! Boy! In! The! World!

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I sure do hate the hell out of housework.
2003: When I think of Judge Roy Moore, the phrase “Getting too big for his britches” comes to mind.
2002: If he didn’t do that creepy, over-intense stare all the time, he wouldn’t be so (you guessed it) creepy, but he does, so he is.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

8/25/08

Those of you who are just now being able to access my site again, you might want to double-check how you’re getting here. If you’re using the address journal.bitchypoo.com, you couldn’t see me right away after the switchover, and that’s because it’s been a few years since I used journal.bitchypoo.com – I think it was when I switched to WordPress that that changed. I had Fred put a forwarder on so that you’ll be automatically forwarded from journal.bitchypoo.com to plain old bitchypoo.com. I can’t promise that we’ll remember to do that next time we switch servers (and I can guarantee that some day we will switch servers again; that’s just the way the cookie crumbles), so keep in mind that bitchypoo.com should get you to the right place.

Anyway.

Also, the giveaway page has been moved to a new location because life’s just easier for me that way. Since I’m using WordPress for that page, you should be able to add it to your RSS feeder if you want. Or if you’d rather not, I changed the link in the sidebar for the correct page.

And lastly, the recipe page has been moved and has a new look (and it’s probably not going to get any fancier than that. You don’t need anything fancy, right? As long as you can see the recipes?). Fred’s supposed to be fiddling with some plug-in wherein you can just click on the category in the sidebar (for instance, “beef entrees”) and see the list of recipes to choose from. (Note: Yes, it’s apparently down. I don’t fucking know why. Jesus fucking christ. I guess when you move all your shit to a server that costs half as much, you get what you pay for.)

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So the pigs went off to be processed yesterday. Originally they were supposed to go a week and a half ago, but that didn’t work out. And then the butcher was going to come get them, and THAT didn’t work out, so Fred bought a utility trailer and built a big box – for wont of a better description – on the trailer and started feeding the pigs in the trailer. It took a few days, but the pigs eventually came around to the change of feeding location. We found that if you wave a donut at a hungry pig, he’ll do just about anything he can to get to it. Yesterday, despite the fact that it was pouring down rain, Fred lured the pigs onto the trailer and shut them in, and then we (he) hooked the trailer up to the back of the truck and we drove slowly (not slowly enough for my taste, but I wasn’t driving) to the butcher.

We’ll pick up the processed meat in a week or two, and it sounds like we’re going to have more pork than we know what to do with.

Saturday, we drove up to Tennessee to Mennonite country. Fred had talked about maybe buying some pigs while we were up there, but he didn’t want to drive the truck up, because he didn’t want to jinx anything. He was sure that if we took the truck to Tennessee, it would break down and we’d be in all kinds of trouble when it came to delivering the pigs. So we took my car to Tennessee, and he put a cage in the back just in case we came across pigs or chickens we (he) just HAD to have. But when it came down to it and we located a house that had small pigs, I talked him out of it. I wasn’t against getting more pigs (those damn pigs come in seriously handy for disposing of kitchen scraps, I tell you what), I just didn’t want to have to drive all the damn way home with two stinky-ass scared squealing pigs in the back of the car.

(“Really, you think they’d stink?” Fred said, all earnest seriousness. “We had to drive home in 30-degree weather with all four windows wide open when we got the two we have,” I reminded him. “But these will be Amish pigs, they won’t STINK!” he said. “Yes, I’m certain that the cleanliness of their barnyard animals is foremost on their minds,” I said. “I’m trying to recall the many houses we’ve driven by and seen Mennonite children scrubbing down the pigs and cows. Thinking… thinking…”)

We did end up getting a couple dozen fertile chicken eggs from one place, eggs that are already in the incubator. We’ll see how that goes.

(“All this bouncing around on dirt roads isn’t bad for the eggs we’re going to try to hatch?” I asked Fred, imagining that if we cracked open one of the eggs we’d find something very much like scrambled eggs. “I guess we’ll know in about a week!” he said.)

So anyway, the pigs are gone. I can’t say having them gone is making much of a difference in my life – Fred’s the one who was responsible for feeding them and all that – but I do like knowing that they weren’t scared when we got to the butcher. When Fred went to get the guy, I got out of the truck and went around to the back of the trailer, and they both looked at me curiously like “What the hell are you doing to us now, and where’s the donuts?” When we drove off, they regarded us from the holding pen like “Seriously? No donuts?”, then turned around and started snuffling at the floor of the pen.

You can read Fred’s entry about the whole thing, but WARNING! About halfway down the page, there’s a picture of a dead and plucked chicken with its head and feet still on; you can read the whole pig section (at the top) without seeing that picture, but skip the rest of his entry if that sort of thing bothers you.

Tobacco plants in Tennessee.

Anyone know what this is? We saw it by the side of the road several places when we were in Tennessee, and Fred said he sees it around here every once in a while. It appears to be a bush, and the flowers are kind of like morning glories, but the leaves are completely different.

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River and Inara are now safely ensconced in their new home. Friday morning they were in rare form, racing around, fighting, just being little wild things. I got out the cat carrier and put it in the hallway so that when the time came to put them in it, I could just grab them and pop them in it without them fighting me.

Naturally, Zoe was all “Hey, this is cool! I like this!” and took up residence.

River and Inara fought with each other for a while, and when they calmed down I popped them in the carrier, and off they went. Given that the first time they were in a carrier and car (when they were going to be spayed and neutered), they got carsick, I thought to bring a damp rag with me, just in case, but luckily didn’t need it. Neither of them was happy about being in a carrier, and they howled and howled all the way to Madison. Inara even started foaming at the mouth. I talked to them all the way and petted their little heads as best I could through the top of the carrier. When we got to their new home, we went inside and I opened the carrier, and they started exploring. And exploring. And exploring. Inara – as always – took the lead in exploring, and they got a look at their new sister (who promptly ran off and hid) and they were both all wide-eyed and “This is cool! What’s this place, huh?” Neither of them seemed to be scared, though I’m sure they were a bit overwhelmed.

I stayed for half an hour or so – and got a look at their GORGEOUS new home, I almost asked if I could be adopted along with them! – and the entire time they ran around, poking their noses in all the corners, checking out the windows, checking out the new smells. I left, and K, their new mom, kept me up to date on how they were doing, which is so awesome. You know, usually our fosters are adopted out and that’s pretty much the last we hear of them unless their new parents think to email the shelter and let us know how they’re doing. This way, I get to hear how they’re doing straight from their new Momma’s mouth (or fingertips, I guess!).

Inara’s new name is Dora (I told K that I call her Dora the Explorer because she’s the first one to scope out new situations), and she mentioned that River might become Nate. Can I tell you how thrilled I am that they got adopted together? SO THRILLED, you have no idea!

All day Friday and Saturday Kaylee and Zoe were very quiet and seemed a bit confused, they spent all day hanging out on my bed. They seemed to know something was different, they just weren’t sure what. Kara, on the other hand, was like “What kittens?” and acted like her usual self. Sunday, Kaylee and Zoe started to come out of their shell and began coming downstairs to hang out a little. Kaylee’s actually started to “talk” a little, which she never did when Inara and River were here, so maybe she’s going to take on the outgoing wild thang role.

So, the house is quieter (and I miss seeing Inara walk across the room and stick her tail straight up in the air when I speak to her and seeing River’s sweet goofy little face), but everyone seems to be adjusting.

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“What?”

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I haaaaaaaaaate having to deal with strangers.
2003: I guess when your boss (the Supreme Court) tells you to do something and you tell him to go fuck himself, shit tends to fly.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: The thrills and chills around here just never stop, folks.

8-22-08

The other night, Fred and I were sitting down to watch one of the movies we’d rented from Bl0ckbuster last week. It happened to be Shallow Hal which – despite the fact that I posted a mini-rant about it back before I ever watched it – I kind of enjoy. Anyway, as Fred was putting … Continue reading “8-22-08”

“An hour and forty-five minutes,” he said.

And then he had to listen to me bitch about the length of the movie. “Seriously? An hour and FORTY-FIVE minutes?! There’s nothing in that movie that requires it to be longer than ninety minutes! Jesus Christ! What the fuck! What great work of art do the Farrelly Brothers think they’re creating, GANDHI?!”

I find that the older I get, the more I resent it when I have to spend more than 90 minutes watching a movie. Hey, my time is valuable to me! I also tend to resent books that are longer than 300 pages – if it takes longer than 300 pages, you’re throwing too many goddamn details in there and you need to speak to your editor. (Which doesn’t stop me from reading the entire book if it does clock in at longer than 300 pages. I resent the idea rather than the execution, I guess.) If a movie takes longer than 90 minutes, you’re throwing too much useless bullshit and too many substories in there. I usually refuse to watch any videos online that are longer than a couple of minutes – I try to keep mine to a minute or less. I’m not always successful, but I try!

None of this explains why I write entries that are 6,000 miles long, though. Apparently I don’t mind spending my time yammering about boring shit and forcing y’all to skim it to get to the good parts.

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Never thought I’d be so thrilled to see gas at $3.39 a gallon. I wonder if it’ll ever get under $3 a gallon again?

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I just got to the tomato sauce recipe chapter in AVM yesterday and was wondering if you had tried it yet. Aside from all the pureeing it looks pretty easy to put together. Did you add the ground lemon peel? I’d like to try my hand at it next year when I have more than 2 tomato plants:)

I did add the ground lemon peel – I followed the recipe exactly and ended up tossing the tomato sauce because I had to simmer it for too long. I’m beginning to think that when she says “Simmer on low for 2 – 3 hours” what she doesn’t mean is “Simmer on low.” I think she really means something more along the lines of “Simmer on lowish. Or whatever.” Next time (I actually already have enough tomato puree to try a half batch, which I may do next week) I’m going to try simmer on a medium heat and see how that goes.

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That tomato sauce looks good. Does the honey make it pretty sweet? Do you know if that is an optional ingredient? I’m not a fan of sweet sauce. Also, on the recipe site it said something about freezer boxes if you’re not using canning jars. I’m assuming freezer bags are ok since I’ve never heard of freezer boxes? Do you know what freezer boxes are?

The honey adds a bit of sweetness to the sauce but it’s not terribly sweet. I’m just guessing here, but I think you could leave the honey out and it would be okay. I believe freezer boxes are just plastic containers that are meant to be frozen, like these but you can definitely use freezer bags – that’s what I’m planning on using! Just (I’m sure you know this but it doesn’t hurt to mention it) make sure you let the tomato sauce cool down before you bag it, because you wouldn’t want to melt the bag.

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This may be a silly question, but are you simmering the tomatoes with the lid ON the pot? I always turn the lid sideways to that the steam can escape.

Also, basil is incredibly easy to grow. You can plant it now, here in the south, and you’ll be harvesting basil until you get a freeze.

No, I never did put a lid on the pot, I didn’t want the condensation to water down the sauce.

I’ve decided I’m going to grow me some basil in a big pot this year, and have an herb garden next year!

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I’m confused about the top popping off the blender. Do you not hold the top down, or did something cause an eruption so strong that it threw your arm off?

I had my hand on top of the blender lid, but the eruption of trying to blend something that was boiling hot was strong enough to toss my hand off. I wasn’t holding it firmly or anything though, because I am a DUMBASS.

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So which was the worse burn: The temperature heat from the recent boiling, or the chemical heat from the oils?

The temperature heat was momentarily painful, but the heat from the peppers was the gift that kept on giving all damn day long. I touch my face a lot – A LOT – and my lips burned all day and so did the corners of my eyes. I felt like I had a sunburn on both my arms. I tried to protect my hands from the habaneros at first – when I deseeded and chopped them, I was wearing vinyl gloves – but once the shit went everywhere, I gave up. I honestly predicted I was going to burn my eyeballs to cinders when I took my contacts out that night, but apparently the fact that I washed 135,000 dishes that day got rid of the habanero oils. From my hands, at least – my lips felt swollen for another couple of days.

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Robyn, I remember awhile back when you named the kitties from the show Firefly that you thought you would watch it since so many of your readers told you how good it was. Well I had never even heard of it cause I’m not much into Sci-Fi but when I found it on HuLu I thought I would give it a try…. Well they were right, it is the BEST SHOW EVER, such a shame it was canceled. If you haven’t watched it give it a try, trust me it will grow on you very quickly and it will get in your head and stay there. I never liked Nathan Fillion at all, hated him in Waitress, didn’t even realize he was on Desperate Housewives, but the character he plays in Firefly is so perfect for him, you really just have to see it to appreciate it, then go watch the movie Serenity. I promise you, you will love it!

I’ve watched, I think, the first two discs of the series, and then I got sidetracked by The L Word. Once I’ve finished with that, I’ll probably go back and finish up Firefly. I very much enjoyed the episodes I watched. And if I had to name the kittens all over again, I totally would switch Kaylee and Inara’s names because Kaylee’s all dark and mysterious and seductive, and Inara’s all bouncy and happy-go-lucky, and it should be the other way around.

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Good thing that Fred planted 5,000 tomato plants so you will have enough maters for another batch of sauce. On the positive side, you have an awesome strainer so it’s not as horrible work prepping to tomatoes. 🙂

We’re STILL not getting as many tomatoes as I’d like. There are several Roma plants that are producing these annoying little bitty tomatoes, and a couple more that aren’t producing very well. I don’t think I’ll be making ketchup THIS year, either.

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Has Spanky lost weight? I know he’s not big like Spot was, but he’s looking rather svelte in this photo… and soft man, soft enough I wouldn’t let anyone named Lennie play with him!

That’s an excellent question, and Fred and I looked Spanky over and discussed him and came to the conclusion that Spanky has possibly lost a little weight. He’s acting as happy as ever, though, so I don’t think he’s sick or anything. He’s spending a lot more time outside than he used to, so maybe it’s his endless patrol of the backyard border that’s made him a bit smaller.

He’s SO soft. He’s got that silky Siamese fur and once you start petting him it’s hard to stop!

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Did you use fresh herbs or dried? I can’t remember. Fresh herbs go in towards the end of cooking, say the last ten minutes or so. I always add a teaspoon or so of sugar to my sauce (regular saucepan-sized batch) too to help cut the acidity a bit.

I used dried herbs this time around – the recipe actually called for dried. And there was honey in the recipe, which added just a bit of sweetness. At least until I simmered it for too long and the herbs turned bitter. ::sigh::

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I thought I was the only one who saved spider webs 🙂 I had a very interesting spider in my bathtub the other day. It sat there and groomed itself while I bathed…..I thought I would put it outside after I was done because it had entertained me…..but alas, it jumped on me and instinct took over….and I washed his bits down the drain.

Generally, if a spider keeps her web fairly neat and clean – not a lot of bug pieces left hanging in it – I let her stick around. The kitchen spider got tired of my cleaning, and yesterday after I raised the blinds to wipe a dead fly off the window and accidentally destroyed her web once again, she stomped off and, I assume, set up camp somewhere else.

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Is your freezer full of pork chops, ham, and bacon now?

Not yet! It takes a couple of weeks to get the meat back once the pigs are slaughtered.

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I am trying to work a deal on my Mother in Law to get her to adopt a little kitten that had a run in with a car motor. Kitty lost left ear and right eye. The catch is that my MIL is blind in her right eye also so they would make a perfect pair.

Oddly enough, we realized last week that we have a Buff Orpington (yellow) chicken who’s blind in her right eye. I think she’d be the perfect addition to your mother-in-law’s life, don’t you?

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It’s always interesting to hear what you name your fosters (and your own) and then what second name you give them!

It’s funny, because I have to come up with names pretty quickly so the shelter can put them into the computer, but as time goes by, I start calling them something else and that becomes their name. With the current fosters, I generally refer to them by a name that describes how they look (or the way they act – Inara’s earned the nickname “Dora the Explorer”) because Fred doesn’t spend as much time with him, so he doesn’t learn their correct names.

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I love that spice rack you have, where did you get it may I ask??

We got it three and a half years ago from this site and I LOVE it. I just wish it was a little longer – it’s 48″ long – because we still have some spices that don’t fit on it, but I put the spices that don’t get used much up in the cabinet, so it works out well. It was expensive ($80), but very much worth it.

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What is Hannaford? Should I have it here? Who is beautiful stranger kitteh in the picture with Security Kitteh?

Hannaford is a grocery store – they don’t have them down here, but I have a ton of bags from there. They’re THE best reusable bags I’ve ever seen. They fold up nicely and they’re strong and huge – you can easily fit six 2-liter bottles in one bag. I do like Hannaford, the store, but I’m not complaining about our Publix because it pretty much rocks, too. Oh yeah – Hannaford used to be called Shop ‘n Save and was renamed after I left Maine, so I still think of it as Shop ‘n Save.

That pretty cat in the picture with Mister Boogers has been kind of hanging around intermittently for a little while now. Fred has been reporting seeing it for a few months but I hadn’t seen it until earlier this week, when I glanced out the window and saw it sitting there facing off with Mister Boogers. As soon as it saw me headed in that direction, it took off. Fred also hasn’t been able to get near it, so I don’t know if it’s feral cat or just belongs to someone in the neighborhood.

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I heart The Soup too! Robyn, did you ever start recording Chelsea Lately? My hubby and I watch it religiously. It is way funny and way over the top sometimes. I think you would like it.

I forgot to start recording Chelsea Lately, but after I read your comment I went and set up to tape it and The Soup, too. Didn’t The Soup used to be called Talk Soup, or is that another show altogether?

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Y’all say goodbye to River and Inara. They’re going to their new home to be spoiled rotten in a few hours.

I’m going to miss the little brats.

“Is it time to go to our new home yet?”

River hisses at Sugarbutt, while Inara looks on.

Inara hisses at Mister Boogers, who just looks at her like “What is YOUR issue?”

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Miz Poo and Sugarbutt were so intently watching the squirrels under the bird feeders that they had no idea how close they were sitting or that their tails were (gasp!) touching.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: How can you not die from the cute?
2005: So, that’s why I won’t be updating this week.
2004: No entry.
2003: And for the rest of the drive I would occasionally call him “Fo’-Thray”.
2002: Surely they can hear the thunder of Tubby approaching from miles away – you’d think they’d hide somewhere he can’t go, like under the shed or on the other side of the fence.
2001: That’s me, an expert at reading between the lines!
2000: It gives her a rakish air.

8/21/08

I dropped the goddamn camera yesterday – the GOOD camera, the one that cost an arm and a leg – and the slots on the top that hold the flash on broke off, so I had to send it to Texas to be serviced. Hopefully they won’t take one look at it and say “Yeah, … Continue reading “8/21/08”

I am SO PISSED at myself, because I do fumble-fingered shit like that all the damn time. Grrr.

Okay, I’m off to the pet store to spend some time with kittens and hopefully will find myself in a better mood when I’m done. This’ll have to suffice for an entry.

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Appalled Kitteh is appalled.

Recycling Kitteh is ready to be recycled. He cares about his planet, damnit.

Mailroom Kitteh lays down on the job.

Kitchen Maid Kitteh says “I ain’t shellin’ no more black-eyed peas. I’M DONE AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO ANY MORE!”

Assistant Kittehs wonder “Did you forget to get The Yummins again? I put it on the list!”

Hetful Kitteh is squinty.

Bitey Kitteh would like you to come over here and be bitten, please.

Security Kitteh defends the borders.

Flirty Kitteh likes to flirt with inanimate objects.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: Pictures, you ask? Why of COURSE I have pictures.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: You say tomato, I say fuck you.
2002: “Cats don’t have lips, you freak.”
2001: “…and we’re willing to give this to you – coupons worth two HUNDRED and twenty-five DOLLARS! – for only $19.95!” he said, aflutter with the thrill of it all.
2000: Does the phrase “Through a lovely laxative effect” strike fear into your heart?

8-20-08

Happy, happy birthday, Brian!!!! I cannot believe this child is 17 today. It’s stunning how quickly the time flies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For those of you who asked, the potential kitten adopter is now the official adopter. Yay! Inara and River behaved themselves (actually, they put on quite a show) for her on Friday, and she … Continue reading “8-20-08”

Happy, happy birthday, Brian!!!!

I cannot believe this child is 17 today. It’s stunning how quickly the time flies.

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For those of you who asked, the potential kitten adopter is now the official adopter. Yay! Inara and River behaved themselves (actually, they put on quite a show) for her on Friday, and she decided to take them on. I’ll be delivering them on Friday (yes, if you’re a local reader who adopts a foster kitteh, I will totally deliver!) to their new home.

The other night I said to Fred “But I’ll miss Inara! She’s my favorite!” I’ve been calling her Dora the Explorer because she was the first one to come downstairs and hang out regularly, she spends the most time downstairs, and I do believe she’s the one who decided that okra pods would be fun toys and thus the reason – despite the fact that I left the basket of okra unattended for MAYBE five minutes – I’m finding okra all over the house with little teeth marks in it.

So Fred said “I thought The Peanut [Zoe] was your favorite?”

And I said “She is!”

So Fred said “I thought The Raccoon [Kaylee] was your favorite?”

And I said “She is!” Even though she clearly prefers Fred to me.

So Fred said “I thought Little Boy [River] was your favorite?”

And I said “He is!”

So Fred said “Well, they can’t ALL be your favorite, and besides we agreed we wouldn’t be keeping any of them.”

And I said “I know. Shaddup. Hmph.”

River.

Inara.

I know for a fact that they will be spoiled ROTTEN in their new home. And what’s awesome is that since she’s a local reader, I can periodically harass her for updates on how they’re doing!

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Kind of amazing that Joe Bob is able to get up there, sleep all day, and then get back down without knocking any of that stuff off the mantel, isn’t it?

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Previously
2007: HAPPY BARFDAY, BRIAN!!!!
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: While your average man might have grown frightened, apparently it wasn’t the first time that morning Mike’d heard Satan’s voice howling his name.
2003: It’s kind of like a samba.
2002: I saved someone’s life this morning!
2001: Thus the reason we never get telemarketing calls.
2000: No entry.

8-18-08

The site should be all moved over and set. If you run across any errors, email me at mizrobyn (at) gmail (dot) com and let me know what you were attempting when you got the error, please. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Man, it was one of those weekend. You know those weekends I’m talking about? Where you … Continue reading “8-18-08”

The site should be all moved over and set. If you run across any errors, email me at mizrobyn (at) gmail (dot) com and let me know what you were attempting when you got the error, please.

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Man, it was one of those weekend. You know those weekends I’m talking about? Where you feel like this a lot:

and kind of like this:

When all you want to do is this:

And maybe a little this:

It started Saturday morning – well, no, now that I think of it, it kind of started on Friday. Friday I decided that I’d start mowing the lawn. I had errands to run, but I figured I could mow for an hour and a half, get the side and front lawns mown, and then Fred could do the rest. At one point I thought I broke the riding mower, so I decided to finish the front yard with the push mower, but Fred told me that going by my description of what was going on, I just had to clear a clump of grass from underneath the mower, so I did that and managed to get quite a lot of lawn mowed in that hour and a half.

I went off and did my errands, and then Fred called to let me know he was leaving work early, so I thought I’d be all awesome and mow the back yard before he got home, only I got the damn riding mower in the back yard and engaged the blade, but it wouldn’t engage and thus wouldn’t cut grass, and I was all “You know what? FUCK THIS!” and went back inside to hang out with Kara and the babies.

When Fred got home he fixed the riding lawnmower and I mowed the back lawn while he processed a couple of chickens (NO DETAILS, I PROMISE). He was still at it when I was done with the back yard, so I went and mowed around the garden and then behind the fenced area and then around the garden shed and the back part of the chicken yard, and in the end I did all the mowing so that when Fred got up Saturday he was all “Huh. Now I have nothing to do!”

It’s funny, while I’m cleaning the house or cooking, my mind is always going, I’m always thinking of things I need to do or things that are bothering or annoying me, but the entire time I was mowing, whether on the riding lawnmower or with the push mower, I don’t really think about anything at all. It’s kinda zen.

Which is not to say that it didn’t WIPE me out, all that being out in the fresh air and hopping off the mower to move stuff, then back on to mow stuff, etc. By bed time I could barely keep my eyes open, and when I woke up Saturday I was still pretty fuzzy-headed and tired, and stayed that way all day.

Since I’d mowed the lawn and Fred was all caught up on chores around the place, we talked about things we could do, and in the end we drove around, checked out Joe Wheeler State Park and a few other places, picked up lunch, and went home. I’d intended to spend the afternoon catching up on my TV watching, but Fred needed to run some errands and wanted company, so I went with him. We stopped by the bakery thrift store on the way home from errand-running, and Fred mentioned to the clerk that we were looking for stuff to give our chickens as occasional snacks, and she ended up selling us a cart (or “buggy” as she called it, GOD I HATE THAT WORD) of old bread for $3. Wicked bargain!

We got home, puttered around for a while, and then started watching a movie. We’d gone to Blockbuster on Friday and one of the things we rented was Lars and the Real Girl. Fred thought I was renting it to watch by myself, but I figure if I have to watch his boring shit (or at least sit in the room while he’s watching it), he should have to watch my stuff, too.

I have to say, I don’t know what I expected from Lars and the Real Girl, but I liked it quite a lot. It was a sweet little movie, and I don’t generally like Ryan Gosling very much, but I liked him a lot in this role (Fred kept saying “He looks SO much like David Arquette!”). I recommend it!

I slept like a rock Saturday night and then I lived the high life by sleeping in Sunday morning until 6:30 YES THAT’S RIGHT I SAID SIX-THIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME.

I got up, went to get groceries, and when I got home I did what I’d been putting off for way too long.

For the past few weeks, every time Fred brings in tomatoes from the garden, I go through them and put the not-quite-ripe ones in a box, then put the box in the dining room. Once they’re ripe – usually it only takes a few days – I take the now-ripe ones and put them in a 2 1/2-gallon-sized Ziploc bag, and put the bag in the freezer. If you freeze and then thaw tomatoes, you end up with the same result as if you’d blanched them, with a whole lot less work.

When I realized we had pretty much NO more room in the freezers, I decided it was time to run them through the magic machine and I started pulling bags of tomatoes out of the freezers. Imagine my surprise when I realized I had 8 – EIGHT! – 2.5 gallon Ziploc bags, each one stuffed as full as possible with ripe tomatoes.

I’ve been wanting to get enough tomato puree to make the Family Secret Tomato Sauce from Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I had about three quarts put away in the freezer and just needed another seven to start making the sauce, which I intended to freeze instead of canning this time around.

After about an hour of work, I had enough puree to start the tomato sauce, and that’s when I discovered that I don’t own a pot big enough to hold ten quarts of tomato puree. I ended up putting as much puree as would fit in my big pot and adding all the spices (note to self: grow basil next year. LOTS of basil.), with the intention of adding the rest of the puree as that in the pot cooked down.

According to the recipe, I was supposed to simmer on low heat for two to three hours until sauce has thickened to your liking. I don’t know if I was simmering it on heat too low or what, but I simmered that stuff with the stovetop dial set to “3” (the dial goes to 9) and eight hours later, at bedtime, not only was it not thick enough, but I still hadn’t been able to add the rest of the puree to the big pot. I turned off the stove and left the pot (covered) on the stove overnight, and this morning when I got up I turned it back on. If it doesn’t thicken appreciably after simmering all day, I’m going to wave the white flag and just freeze it as it is and I don’t know, add cornstarch to it when I want to use it.

BUT

Before I got the tomato sauce simmering, I decided to make the habanero hot sauce Fred’s been asking me to make and then bottle it, so I could stop reminding myself that I needed to get it done. So I chopped everything and waited for the stuff to boil and I let it boil for ten minutes, and then I put everything in the blender.

Let me take a moment to inform you that at Fred’s request I’d put twice as many habaneros and white vinegar as the recipe called for. I don’t know why and I don’t care, because habaneros are so far beyond my ability to withstand pain that I will never knowingly eat anything with habaneros in it as long as I live.

So I put everything in the blender and I put the top on, and then because I am SO VERY SMART I hit the lowest level setting on the blender to begin the blending process, and the goddamn top popped up, and a boiling wave of habanero/ onion/ carrots/ white vinegar/ lime juice splashed across my arm and down the front of me.

Fred wasn’t home – he was at Lowe’s – but I wish dearly that he’d been home, because for once when something painful happened to me, I did NOT gasp loudly causing him to have a heart attack. All I did was gape soundlessly at the goddamn blender (which I’d turned off as soon as I was hit with the wave of PAIN) and then go into the laundry room and take off my apron and t-shirt and put them on top of the washer. Then I went back into the kitchen and spend the next five minute cleaning habanero/ onion, etc. off the counter, the floor, and the cabinets.

Then I poured about half the habanero mixture out of the blender into a bowl, and I put the lid on, and I hit the lowest possible setting to begin the blending process.

AGAIN WITH THE GODDAMN BOILING WAVE OF PAIN.

This time I was not nearly so quiet about my displeasure. I think I bellowed “WHAT THE FUCK JESUS CHRIST GODDAMNIT WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME MY LORD!”, then went into the laundry room and stripped off my shorts and then went back into the kitchen to wipe down the counters, cupboards, and floor. Then I wiped down my stomach and arm, which had taken the brunt of the boiling wave of pain.

Having learned my lesson, I dumped out what was left of the habanero mixture and processed that shit 1/4 cup at a time until it was all done. Then I set it aside so that Fred could critique the consistency before I brought it back to boiling and bottling it and began the tomato sauce. Which we’ve already discussed. AT LENGTH.

So then I helped Fred with his project and then I made cookies and then I made dinner, which consisted of Unfried Chicken, corn on the cob, and green beans. And then I took tomato goop (the tomato skins and seeds the tomato strainer spits out) out to the chickens and then I hung plastic bags on the line to dry and then after dinner was made and eaten, I cleaned up the kitchen and began on the last four bags of tomatoes.

Oh, yes. Did I not mention that the four bags of tomatoes I put in the sink in the laundry room to thaw had not thawed all the way, so I decided to wait ’til after dinner to run them through the strainer? It took me forever to get those tomatoes done because (1) There were so goddamn many of them and (2) They still weren’t thawed all the way and (3) A bunch of them weren’t all the way ripe and the unripe part was giving the strainer fits.

In the end, I got almost 16 quarts of tomato puree from that 8 2.5 gallon bags of tomatoes. If I’d had to do all those tomatoes by hand instead of running them through the strainer – well, that’s a moot point ’cause by the sixteenth hour of peeling, seeding, and chopping, I would have lost my shit and tossed all of those tomatoes on the compost heap.

So with the tomato puree safely tucked away in the freezer and the tomato sauce bubbling merrily away on the stove and the kitchen cleaned up for the thousandth time that day, I went and spent the rest of the evening watching TV with Fred.

And that was MY weekend. In case you were wondering.

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River on the left (well, in the middle), Kara on the right. He’s almost as big as she is!

Pretty Zoe.

Pretty River.

“Come HERE, I want to bite you!”

“What?”

Beautiful Kaylee.

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“I hets yew.”
“I sense your hetred, Boogerton, and I care not what or whom you hate. I shall rule this world and you shall beg for mercy at my feet.”

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: He truly amazes me.
2005: If I insert a brillo pad into my ear, will it eventually get to my brain and scrub that song out, or is that an urban myth?
2004: You know, I’m getting PRETTY FRICKIN’ TIRED of finding cricket legs all over the damn place.
2003: “Mother,” said the spud, “That is an excellent idea, for I am going to melt into a motherfucking puddle of goo in about 10 seconds.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: In the future, the spud will be cleaning her own bedroom, since I took one look at her room and said “Fuck THIS.”

8-15-08

We’re in the process of moving all our sites over to a new server. If things look wonky around here this weekend, that’s why. Fred’s going to move my site over Friday evening or Saturday morning, so things should be all set by Monday. ***Note, Sunday: I don’t know what’s going on with the site … Continue reading “8-15-08”

***Note, Sunday: I don’t know what’s going on with the site or why y’all are getting errors. Hopefully it’ll be fixed at some point today!!!***

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Last night Fred was harassing me about something, and I showed this picture to him and said “This is how I feel right now.”

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When you brush Tommy (if you brush him), does his hair come off black, or a lighter color? My black-on-black tabby, Mr.T, sheds WHITE when I brush him. The hair that comes off of him is lighter than that which comes off of the light grey tabby. It’s weird. I wonder if it’s a black cat thing that I’m not aware of, or if my cat is a mutant.

On the rare occasion that I brush Tommy, the fur comes out kind of grayish – I figured that was because he’s got quite a sprinkling of white fur, but who knows?

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I think you should have a poll about who thinks Kara and her kittens are at your house to stay!

Your wish, my command.

But you should probably know that someone is coming in a few hours to meet Inara and River and see if she wants to adopt them. 🙂

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You did know that Netflix now sells a little black box called Roku for $99.00 that attaches to your TV. Streams all the instant view stuff you want to your TV – no extra charge (except for that $99.00 for the box)!!!

GET THEE BEHIND ME, SATAN!

(Now pardon me while I go convince Fred that we NEED one of these!)

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Ok – I may die now. I’ve seen everything. http://kittywigs.com/

Hmm… those wigs look a lot like the ones Dooce is using on Chuck and Coco recently, don’t they?

I think Mister Boogers would make a smashing blonde.

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I didn’t answer about my favorite kitchen implement earlier, but a great way to chop herbs is to put them in a drinking cup, and then use kitchen scissors to chop them up in the cup.

I wish I’d remembered this last night while I was chopping up basil. I’ll remember it next time, believe you me!

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Is Newt as soft as he looks?

He actually isn’t that soft – his fur is kind of coarse and wiry, but on the up side he doesn’t shed a lot!

He is just as sweet as he looks, though.

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Home made laundry detergent – you’re talking my language 🙂 I’m trying to get a good balance for my HE washer, but I’m looking more into powder. I used to use the liquid/goop kind, though and wouldn’t shy away from it forever. But I’m on a powder roll. How are you liking yours?

I’m liking it – it works really well, and between that and using white vinegar for fabric softener, my laundry’s coming out nice and clean and soft! It’s kind of a pain to measure it out, though. I keep my laundry detergent in old gallon-sized vinegar bottles, and it’s hard to get it to come out sometime. I’m considering trying a powder when I’m out of the liquid I have. Anyone out there make their own powdered laundry detergent, and how’s it working for you?

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The one time I went to one of those parks, an extremely large yak shoved his extremely large head inside my window, ate as much corn as he could possibly snarf from my bucket, then wiped his extremely large and extremely wet nose on my arm. The yaks. I do not love them.

We got zebra slobber all over the outside of the windows. Damn animals and their slobber!

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You guys could buy more land and open your own animal sanctuary!!!!!! I mean, with bigger “exotic” animals in addition to the crew you already have. More zebras! (Do zebras feel like horses?)

I have to admit that I’m a little amazed that we don’t already have tigers or lions (but no bears, please.) running around in the back forty already.

Zebras do indeed feel like horses, though they might be a wee bit softer. Or at least this one seemed to be.

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It would be more interesting at that place if the ‘gators were allowed to run loose, don’t you think? lol

No kidding – when we were driving through, I said to Fred “It’s too bad they don’t have tigers – oh, right.” Duh.

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Aw, how can you not love the Llama? Maybe you could get some Alpacas for Crooked Acres and then sell the wool or even get really ambitious and knit some stuff and sell it. I have attached one of my all time favorite video clips. I dare you not to get this song in your head!

I refer you to this comment from Mia:

Llamas spit. When I was in school to be a veterinary tech we had to work w/llamas at the UofM teaching hospital. Llamas were just getting to be the big thing so they were trying to establish normals for lab values. This meant that we spent a lot of time drawing blood from many llamas. This also meant we spent a lot of time dodging llama spit. It’s not just spit, it’s vomit. They also kick w/their front feet. Fun times. Oh yeah.

also:

More useless llama info. Berserk Male Syndrome. Like Niki P said. Very violent. The males hit sexual maturity and if they’ve been too closely bonded to their human, well, it’s all over. They (the llama) think the human is a llama and that this is a love match. We had one of these at the U. He pretty much scared the shit out of everyone. Good times. Oh yeah.

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Who or what is Bill Phillips??? Is he famous??? Is he a relative??? Does he have a web site??? The picture looks like a narcissistic bobble head.

Bill Phillips is the guy behind Body for Life, the lifting and eating program Fred and I have both tried in the past. I don’t know how active he is in the Body for Life arena anymore (I don’t spend any time on the Lean and Strong forums anymore). We’ve both always thought that he bears a striking resemblance to emus, though, and have referred to emus as “Bill Phillips” for as long as I can remember.

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what is harbl airing? LOL

Urban Dictionary says: [Harbl] is used mainly to refer to the male reproductive organ, although it can sometimes refer to the female reproductive organ.

It is usually used in the cliché 4chan sentence structure of “I’m in ur ______, ______in ur _______”
I’m on ur radiator, heatin’ my harbl
I’m in ur washmashchine soakin’ my harbl

The idea of kittens spending all their time airin’ their harbls just cracks me up to no end.

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Do the kittens actually get any milk? I’m surprised that Kara would still be producing milk. Still cute as hell, but just wondering…

If I can go by the way they lick their lips after nursing, I’m going to assume they’re getting something, though I doubt it’s enough to live off of.

I agree with those of you who commented about how patient Kara is – she’s SO patient with those kittens. I mean, she smacks ’em around sometimes (in play) and occasionally she can get a little rough with them, but for the most part she is such a sweet, caring Momma.

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Just wondering why you don’t keep the door closed to the guest bedroom and not allow the kids in there. Also, that would cut down on some of the house work, Heaven knows you have enough work to do around there. After all, they have the rest of the house and back yard to roam around in.

Mostly because Kara and the kittens have the run of the upstairs (our cats tend not to go upstairs at all for fear of a smackdown from Kara), but also partly because Miss Stinky REALLY likes to hang out in there (so does Spanky, for that matter) and I don’t think it’s fair to keep her out of her favorite place just ’cause one of the other cats is an asshat.

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What would have been even funnier is if Fred had casually walked into the guest room, turned his back to the camera, and “mimed” peeing on the bed… which is what I thought you were going to say!

He never did that, but he certainly mooned the camera often enough. Don’t get excited, I deleted those clips.

(Or maybe I held onto them in case I need them for blackmail purposes in the future. Mwahaha!)

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I meant to mention this before but forgot until you mentioned the peeing again. After you wrote about it earlier I read about the problem in a vet’s column in our local paper. The vet said that cat’s with urinary infections or other urinary problems for some reason often pee in sinks or other drains. I forgot to mention it because I knew you guys are at the vet’s all the time.

Yeah, the first thing we did when we realized Mister Boogers was peeing in the sink (which Fred documented in this entry) was take him to the vet for tests in case he’d developed a UTI. Turns out, he’s just a douchebag.

I blame Newt, because I believe Mister Boogers saw Newt pee in the sink, and a lightbulb went on over his pointy little head and if he’s peed in the damn litter box since, I’d be very surprised.

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I haven’t seen my real hair in years, but from the little bit that I get a peek of when my roots start to show I think I might be really, really super gray. I’m 50, but I definitely feel too young to have gray hair so I intend to keep on dying it. I wonder when one stops dying one’s hair? Any ideas?

I think the rule of thumb is pretty much when you’re too senile to make the appointment, it’s time to go natural. Hee.

I actually used to say, when I was in my mid-20s, that when I was 30 I’d stop coloring my hair, because it was ridiculous to keep up the charade when you’re so old. (!) Then when I hit 30, I thought “Ehhh, maybe I’ll keep going ’til I’m 45.” Now I’m thinking (once I go and have my hair re-colored, that is) I’ll probably wait ’til I’m 65 or so.

If I could go gray and look half as fabulous as Emmylou Harris, I’d totally go for it. But I don’t see that happening.

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I’ve been looking at tastespotting.com lately and yesterday, there was a picture of chicken feet. After gagging a little, I thought “Hmm, maybe Robyn isn’t afraid of chicken feet”, so I thought I’d send the link to the article!

When chicken feet are attached to live chickens, I think they’re kind of neat. When they’re separated from their owners and being WAVED IN MY FACE, I am not so much a fan.

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I noticed you were reading (or read) “The Girls” and was wondering what you thought about it. I loved it BTW, and had to keep reminding myself it was a novel!

I liked it a LOT. Any book that can make me burst into tears with one sentence gets an automatic four stars from me!

(The sentence: How cruel it must be for a man to live past his soul.)

I liked that the book was written from two perspectives, and that the two sisters didn’t read what the other had written, so the matter-of-fact “I suppose Rosie already told you” and “I’m sure Ruby’s gone on and about it.” made me smile when it wasn’t making me say “Wait – what?!”

It was a very engaging book and I definitely recommend it!

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What will you do with the pig enclosure after the pigs go to piggie heaven? That wallow looks like it would be hard change.

and

Will you guys get pigs again one day?

Yeah, we’re planning to get pigs again in the future, so we’re going to leave the pig yard the way it is. We’re talking about making a temporary “corridor” from the chicken yard to the pig yard, because there are apparently a LOT of ticks out there (Fred had to spray the pigs regularly for ticks) and chickens love to eat ticks.

Fred was recently told that you want to always have at least two pigs, because one won’t grow as quickly as two will – there’s apparently some competitive eating going on when there are two or more pigs, so they get big faster when they have someone to compete with. Fred actually called the man we bought these two pigs from to get more in a few weeks, but I kind of liked having the pigs when they were itty bitty (can you believe these things EVER fit in cat carriers?!), so we’re going to wait a few months ’til we can get some little ones.

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I love the shiny bubble by the first pig…it lends a Disney-esque vibe to the picture.

It also echoes his shape, because Little(r) Pig is shaped like a big round bubble. That bubble, though? It’s pure stink. Those damn pigs actually pee in that wallow – ON PURPOSE – and then they hang out in it all day long, and so you can bet that my nightmare the other night about falling face-first into the wallow was not a pleasant dream.

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Love the pigs! Do they get buttermilk baths?

I don’t know that we can afford that much buttermilk. Plus, they’d probably just PEE in it. Bastards.

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“FOOD!!!”

“COOKIE!”

The pigs were supposed to go to the slaughter house last night. Read Fred’s entry for what’s up with that. (NO, we’re not keeping them.)

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Whenever I hear you call the rooster Michele- I always say it in my head (Mee-shell) like that big guy in the movie “Dodgeball”- Ben Stiller’s “fitness consigliarie” as he called him.

That’s how I pronounce it, too! Great minds think alike.

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i had a weird dream last night.

you and nance were at a grocery store that was closing and i recognized both of you. nance told me your were in labor but needed some kitty litter. you were holding up the checkout line because you were trying to talk fred into allowing you to accept some free flowering vine seeds the checker was trying to give you. then nance told you to stop twittering around and get to the hospital. i asked if it was a boy or girl, and nance said “a little bit of both.” i noticed that you didn’t look pregnant.

when i arrived home, you and fred were seated on my couch and you were suddenly VERY pregnant. fred was rubbing your belly. i asked if you had gone to the hospital.

fred said, “it was premature labor. oh, and she’s having KITTENS!”

then i noticed your stomach was squirming around in a weird way.

my husband asked me “where did you meet these people?”

i told him that you were friends from the internet.

he asked if you were characters from my sims game.

i thought a second and said, “YES!”

then i woke up.

so much for friends from the internet!

and (from last month):

This has nothing to do with your entry, but I know you love to hear about people dreaming about you and Fred. I had a very drawn out dream last night about how my daughter and I went to visit you, but then I couldn’t get onto your computer to buy a plane ticket home and I had to explain to my husband that I was stuck in Alabama. Then we were outside, and you had a gigantic paved driveway with a basketball hoop and a ton of cars (I think you had a lot of visitors). I guess I must have left eventually because then I ended up in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video, complete with my own odd little updates.

and in an email last week:

It’s funny, I had a dream about you and Fred one night. In it I found out that you two really aren’t married, don’t live at Crooked Acres, and are actually running the site as a sociology research project. I think you were really based in New York or some other big East Coast City. In my dream you had finished the blog phase of the research and were shutting down the site and letting us all know what had really been going on. Yesterday I flashed back on that dream and for a minute thought, well I was right after all. Now they are studying our reaction to the removal of our “friends” from our lives. Pretty clever of you two.

I adore it when y’all have dreams about us, because they always crack me up.

And in the first dream? Nance would TOTALLY say something like “A little bit of both”, and I would TOTALLY be freaking out about not having enough kitty litter in the house if I were going into labor. Also, we are TOTALLY Sim’s characters!

Hee.

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I just wondering if you’re having the same problem as I with the new Paw Points (Fresh Step) bags. Now that the code is on the outside, I can never find the number or it goes through a white part of the bag and I can’t read it.

I’m not having any issues, but only because I buy my Fresh Step in the 40-pound buckets, so the Paw Points code is on a card inside the bucket. Have you emailed customer service with a complaint? I’d totally do that, if only because if they get enough complaints, maybe they’ll change the way they do it.

Speaking of, have you seen all the new cool stuff you can earn with your Paw Points?!

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Cumming is a real fragrance. You can buy it a Sephora for (wait for it)… $69.

I have to say, I watched the clip of Alan Cumming on Graham Norton Shelly linked to yesterday:

And I find myself warming toward Alan Cumming. He certainly has a sweet smile, doesn’t he? Man, the price of his fragrance is high. I’d kind of like to check it out, but given that I never wear perfume, it’d be a waste to buy it!

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Alan Cumming has freaked me out ever since I saw him “Circle of Friends”. He’s a creepy little man and I agree with you, Robyn, on the whole ‘bodies in the yard’ thing. Wouldn’t surprise me this much (holding thumb and index finger jammed tightly together). And the Cumming cologne for $69 that’s funny shit.

Oddly enough, I was thinking about that very thing in the shower this morning (what? What deep thoughts do Y’ALL have in the shower?) and decided that it was his role in Circle of Friends that has cast a pall over him for me, ever since.

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A kitten movie I forgot to upload. It’s from a few weeks ago, shortly after I brought home the new laser toy. They found it fascinating for at least a minute and a half!

YouTube link

Stinkerbelle is making some progress with the kittens. They still hiss and growl, but they clearly like being around her, because they follow her around (and then hiss and growl at her).

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Maxi in the sun.

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Previously
2007: “Mister Seller tells me y’all are good Christian people,” she said.
2006: It’s been a year since we found Crooked Acres. Hard to believe.
2005: They are NAS-TAY, and trust me when I say that you’d be better off never bothering to try the nasty things.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: Looking at this hormone-laden piece of meat makes me… well, it makes me kinda drool, actually.
2001: I just smiled and nodded and kept walkin’.
2000: Mustard algae. Why must he doubt me?

8/14/08

We’re in the process of moving all our sites over to a new server. If things look wonky around here this weekend, that’s why. Fred’s going to move my site over Friday evening or Saturday morning, so things should be all set by Monday. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Newt’s out in the side yard right now eating … Continue reading “8/14/08”

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Newt’s out in the side yard right now eating a bird he caught. I didn’t realize he had it until it was dead or I would have rescued it from him.

What amazes me is that when he’s done eating, there will be NOTHING left of that bird. No beak. No legs. Is a cat’s digestive system really set up to digest beaks and legs?

I find that simultaneously gross and cool.

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I read Gwen’s latest entry this morning and it compels me to confess that I had to do a GOOGLE SEARCH to be reminded what the hell “long division” is. If you’re sitting there thinking “Is long division the division where you write the one number down and then draw a two-sided doohickey around it and then put the number you’re dividing by on the outside of the two-sided doohickey and then you do the division and write the results on top of the two-sided doohickey?”, then the answer is yes. That IS long division. Thank you for answering that for me, mathisfun.com.

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I’m about halfway through Season 3 of The L Word, and I have to say this: I really REALLY want to like Alan Cumming, but my god in heaven he gives me the screaming jeebies. If it were to suddenly come out that he’s been burying bodies in his back yard for years, I would not be so terribly surprised.

Also, regarding The L Word, it seems that some of you mistook my appreciation for the adorableness of Jenny as my enjoyment of her character. NOT SO. I haven’t liked Jenny since about the middle of Season 1, I find her unbearably annoying. Oooh, Jenny’s so DARK! Oooh, Jenny’s so DAMAGED! Oooh, let’s watch as Jenny’s crappy prose comes to life! BO. RING.

But Mia Kirshner is just button-cute.

So, for that matter, is Sarah Shahi (Carmen).

But my heart still belongs to Shane. ::sigh::

(Upon looking at Alan Cumming’s Internet Movie Database profile, I read this interesting fact: Has his own cologne called “Cumming.” and snickered like a 12 year-old boy.)

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(Stolen from Shelly)

Inquiring minds want to know, every day do you…

1. Shower? Morning or night?
I shower every single morning unless I’m recovering from surgery – in which case I sponge-bathe. I roll out of bed, go straight to the bathroom and shower. It really gets me going in the morning; I don’t know how people who don’t shower every day can stand it.

2. Wash your hair?
Every morning in the shower. A few years ago I was only shampooing every other day to save the wear and tear on my hair, but I went back to daily shampooing because it’s a lifelong habit I’ve gotten into.

3. Shave?
Generally once or twice a week. I’m lucky that the hair on my legs is pretty light.

4. Wear make-up? (If yes, what does that include?)
I wear makeup maybe twice a year (usually Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve) and it includes powder base, powder blush, eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow. I might wear lipstick, but it’s unusual – I bite and lick my lips far too often to wear lipstick.

5. Spend a lot of time doing your hair?
Five minutes at the most – I only blow-dry the top of my hair and let the rest air dry. Sometimes I don’t even bother with blow-drying the top. It depends on my mood.

6. Do you wear perfume? If so, what kind?
Very rarely. My favorite perfume is Sand & Sable, but I can’t remember the last time I put it on.

7. Other than wedding/engagement rings, what jewelry do you wear?
I actually don’t wear my wedding & engagement rings (I still need to have them sized down), and in fact don’t wear any jewelry at all on a regular basis. Sometimes I’ll go through an earring phase for a few days or a week, but for the most part I’m jewelry-free.

I guess you could say I’m low-maintenance.

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I tried to make my Manga Avatar like all the cool kids, but it came out looking more like Gina Gershon than me.

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As of yesterday, I’ve lived in Alabama for 12 years. 12 years!

In my entry for a year ago yesterday I said that I still thought of Maine as home. And in the comments to my entry last Friday, Elayne asked Do you still long for the cottage, or do you see yourself settled in for the duration at Crooked Acres?

In the last year, my view of home has changed. That is, I don’t consider Maine home anymore. While I still wish we were closer to the ocean, Crooked Acres feels more like home to me than anywhere I’ve ever lived. There’s a certain comfort for me; for the first time in my life I feel at ease in my skin. I don’t know if it’s because the house is old and has character, or if it’s because I know every inch of this house, or if it’s because with the land we have I feel like we can breathe, but I feel at home here in a way I never have before.

The first two houses we lived in were big and new and while they were lovely houses, I never felt settled there. I never felt like I could, say, paint the bathroom walls purple if I wanted because it seemed that we always had an eye toward what it would do to the resale value. I don’t care about the resale value of this house because if I lived here for the rest of my life, I’m perfectly okay with that. I’m home.

Don’t get me wrong – we went from a house on half an acre to a house on four and a half acres, but we’d still like to have a lot more land. Fred has jokingly suggested that we buy twenty acres in Tennessee and start building a house by hand to live in for our retirement. While we won’t do that – if we spend the next twenty years spending our weekends building a home in Tennessee, who’d be home to mow the back forty every single week? – I can guarantee you that if we found an old house like this one on a lot more land, an old house that maybe needed some renovation, we’d seriously consider buying it.

It’s not so much the location, I guess, as the feel. I like living in the country, I like watching our animals out the window, I like the small-town feel of where we are. I don’t want to live in the suburbs again (though being so close to everything is something I miss just a tad!), I don’t want to live in the city (when I was a kid, I fully intended to live in the city one day).

It’s funny how things can change in just a few months. A year ago I still considered Maine to be home.

Now, while I’ll always have a place in my heart for Maine, Crooked Acres is absolutely my home.

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Kara lets her southern roots shine through.

Zoe with attitude.

Something about the way Inara is sitting here, with one paw on my knee and one paw on the toy is just cracking me up.

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Check out the dust on Tommy’s face. He sure does like to roll around in the dirt in the back yard. Maybe he thinks he’s a chicken and needs to take regular dust baths?

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Previously
2007: I said “I’d find their plight more interesting if they weren’t quite so ugly.”
2006: DON’T YOU HATE IT WHEN A JOURNALER SAYS THAT?
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: “Motherfucker!” was Fred’s response.
2002: Why yes, it IS a rough life, thanks for asking.
2001: No entry.
2000: Because I was so overworked over the summer, you know.