Fostering – Page 95

11/8/06

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland “You have a Midland accent” is just another way of saying “you don’t have an accent.” You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
The South
The Inland North
The Northeast
Philadelphia
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

Good voice for TV or radio my ass. * * * Faith Hill claims that that whole thing at the Country Music Awards was a joke. I don’t know if it was or not, but since I’ve only ever heard good things about the woman – everyone is always talking about how sweet and kind she is – I guess I’ll choose to believe it was a joke. I bet she’s regretting it, though. Must be a slow news week, eh? Isn’t there an election coming up soon or something they could focus on? * * * So Princess Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik are gone. I emailed the shelter manager on Monday to ask her about getting their shots, and she told me that they could get their shots that day, and they could go to the pet store anytime before Tuesday adoptions began. Like I’ve said before, the smaller the cats are, the faster they go, so I ran them out to the shelter and got their shots on Monday. Monday evening we let them out of the room to roam. And late yesterday morning I took them to the pet store. They’re such sweet cats, but I’m sad because I feel like we didn’t really get a chance to bond with them. We didn’t want to let them out of the cat room too soon (we were worried our cats would catch giardia from them), and that’s how our foster kitties always bond with us, by exploring the house and hanging out with us. Fred said that it’s probably a good thing they went to the pet store so fast, because they were such sweethearts that we might have ended up with four more cats. Fred loves kittens who are about three months old because (he says) they don’t develop a personality before then (I disagree and offer up the example of one Maddy). And when I went into the kitten room this morning and Fezzik, Inigo, and Westley just about knocked each other for the privilege of flopping over on my feet, well, ya gotta love the little cuties. I hope they’re all adopted by Monday, when I go to the pet store again. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand them sitting in their cages looking sadly at me.

Fezzik got a little too close to Spot. Spot hissed. Fezzik hissed back. Is there anything LESS scary than a hissing kitten?

Break my heart, why don’tcha? * * * We went out to the house last night. Fred got off work a little earlier than usual, so we were at the house before 4:00. I’d hoped to spend time outside clearing more of the side yard, but it was gray and rainy and just plain yucky out, so that didn’t happen. I slapped a coat of paint on a couple of doors then we ate dinner, and for the rest of the evening I yanked the coving (?) from the top of the baseboards in the upstairs hallway, scraped the wallpaper hiding behind the coving, and then taped the hallway and started on the stairs so Fred will be able to start painting tomorrow or this weekend. Hopefully it’ll be nice enough outside on Friday that I can work outside most of the day. Not that I’m particularly an outdoorsy kind of gal, but if it’s between busting my ass clearing some of the weeds and overgrown crap from the land or painting, I’ll happily bust my ass every time. Fred spent most of the evening puttying in the holes in the walls of the upstairs hallway and the stairwell. He also worked on the cat house (as mentioned in the middle of this entry) for a while. Maxi and Newt went to the neighbor’s house last week. When we showed up to work on the house this weekend, who was sitting there on the front porch waiting for us? Why, Maxi and Newt. They’ve been there almost every time we’ve been out to the house since. They don’t always stay on the front porch – sometimes they disappear for a while (we found Maxi in the back forty on Sunday; I assume she was out there hunting, despite the fact that there was a bowl full of cat food on our front porch because IF THE CATS HAD TO GO TWO HOUSES DOWN THE ROAD TO EAT THEY MIGHT STARVE TO DEATH). If we don’t see both of them at some point during our time at the house, we worry. We didn’t see Maxi last night until just before we left, and we were able to leave happy to know that she was safe. In fact, when Fred heard her outside howling he went out to greet her, then brought her inside to say hi to me. Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats. (Though I told Nance that if these cats don’t end up inside cats – inside OUR house, that is – before the winter is over, I’ll eat my hat.) I can’t imagine why they’re hanging around our house so much. Maybe because we always feed them and have water for them? Maybe because Fred was so worried they’d get cold that he put a box on the front porch for them to sleep in. Maybe because Fred insisted that we bring an electric blanket from home to put in the box. I KID YOU NOT. Maybe because we always give them a can of wet cat food before we leave. Maybe because they’re aware that Fred is building them their very own house, which will sit on our front porch and which will have a HEATING SYSTEM (“Are you going to put crown moulding on the inside of the house?” I snarked at him last night. “No,” he said. “It’d take too much room. Maybe I’ll save that for when they decide they need more room and I add on to the house.”). Maybe they just like us. Who knows? That Newt is going to be the death of me, he’s such a sweet little monkey.

* * * To prove that I have NO PRIDE WHATSOEVER, I post for your enjoyment a picture Rick took of me. He snapped a picture of me and I said “Oh, great, take a picture of me with my mouth hanging open. I always look like an idiot in candid pictures!” And to illustrate the idea of looking like an idiot… well, take a look yourself:

Nance is sitting there frozen in horror that I’d actually post the picture, I bet. Heh! NO PRIDE, Nance. I have NO PRIDE. * * *

“Waiter, there appears to be a kitten in my soup.”

Deceptively cute.

Maddy the mouth-breather. (More pictures of Maddy and Maxi’s kittens here.) Previously 2005: It’s a fucking mystery. 2004: I seem to be a tad less fluttery today. 2003: No entry. 2002: Pictures. 2001: Fred in the dog house. Literally. 2000: I said “It’s a good thing you put your first AND last name, PLUS ‘your daughter’, otherwise I’d never have known!” 1999: Oddly, even though he’s had two doses of the antibiotic, he’s feeling worse instead of better. ]]>

11/7/06

this clip from the Country Music Awards. Even if you’re not a country music fan, you should check it out. Watch Faith Hill, on the left hand side. What the hell was going on there? I guess Faith thought she was going to win. Someone forgot to put her game face on!

* * * Readers who live in areas where there’s an issue with scorpions, perhaps you can offer some words of wisdom to reader Shelly, because I have no idea what to tell her: I’ve been moving into my new condo for the past two weeks and we finally slept there last night (had to get the beds over and stuff). Anyway, I met my new neighbors last night and they told me that the last lady that lived there had a serious problem with scorpions. She even taped up the fireplace flute (is that the right word for it?) that leads outside so they wouldn’t come in and put that spray foam under the sinks to plug up the holes, etc. The neighbors told me to get a couple mouser cats to kill the scorpions for me. So far I’ve only seen 1 and he was in the bathtub and we closed up the drain. We slept with all the lights on in the house last night. I wanted to get a cat anyway, because, well I’m a cat person and I’ve been living with my mom and she doesn’t like them, so I had to wait until I moved. But, here’s the problem, although the neighbors said that cats will kill the scorpions, I’m worried that they will get hurt. They said that cats are immune to scorpion stings, but I don’t know if this is true, and it still has to hurt them right?? So, I’m wondering if you know if cats will kill scorpions, and if they do, are they somehow immune or something? I don’t want to get one if they can be seriously harmed. But, I also don’t want one of my kids getting stung. Scorpions scare the hell out of me. Am I making any sense? I just thought that maybe you (or even some of your other readers) would have some insight. Thanks! Leave any words of wisdom in the comments, or email them to me and I’ll post them! * * * I hope this link works, ’cause I think you will love it. It does – and I do! * * * I was at Sam’s Club tonight and thought of you. They had some beautiful pet beds. They were fancy and the cats would probably hate them, but they were so pretty! And like $12.88…just in case Miss Maddie needs one since the printer thing isn’t quite working out! It’s too late for me to buy a bed for Miss Maddy (though rumor has it she has her very own pink pillow to sleep on), but next time I’m in Sam’s I’ll have to check them out. We do only have two beds for every And3rson kitty, y’know. * * * “Pillbug”? Ahem. Those are roly-polys. SAME DIFFERENCE. They’re also known as sow bugs and woodlice. * * * Yeah yeah yeah, you look great…but what I really want to know is how you know it’s the momma pill bug and not the daddy pill bug. That’s regarding this picture:

Where I referred to the Momma pill bug and her baby. How do I know it’s the Momma pill bug? Because Daddy pill bugs don’t take care of their babies OF COURSE. They’re DADDIES. They don’t have nothin’ to do with no child-rearin’! Just kidding. Actually I know it’s the Momma pill bug because she was screaming for chocolate and complaining about how her breasts were hurting. Kidding! It could have been the Daddy pill bug. I’d go back and check, but I’m sure the whole damn pill bug family bought it in the great Brush Clearing of ’06. * * * I was just thinking… do you mean get the cats inside your house or the garage? Do they have fleas? We brought the Momma and Daddy kitty and the kittens into the house in Smallville. We knew they’d be warm and safe in there – we could have brought them into the garage, but there are no doors anywhere in the garage so they’d have just sauntered back outside. Also, there’s no heat in the garage. They didn’t have fleas, but we treated them all with Advantage immediately upon bringing them inside, just in case. * * * You know Robyn, you could always use that sewing machine in front of the fireplace to whip yourself up some form fitting clothes. (That’s regarding this picture.) I could if (a) I could sew worth a damn and (b) they’d left the sewing machine behind. They took it with them, the bastards! * * * I’ve never seen wood walls in a house but the dining room looks great. Are the walls in the house insulated? They are… not? I think? Um, Fred? Wanna chime in, here? * * * Is Maddy just howling in the first two photos, or are those yawns, as well? That’s regarding these two pictures:

They were neither howls nor yawns – they were Maddy, being bad and trying to bite me. I’d lower my finger ’til she opened her mouth to bite, then get it out of the way and take a picture. Um. I was NOT training her to bite, Nance! * * * i wanna hear more about this book! are you laughing? is it funny? That’s regarding Stop Dressing Your Six Year-Old Like a Skank. I’ve gotta say – I just wasn’t that into the book. It wasn’t horrible, but my mind kept wandering while I was reading, so clearly it couldn’t hold my attention. I don’t recommend it. * * * I thought you might get a kick out of these cards. Those are awesome – I’m only saddened that I have no one to send them to! * * * Happy Birthday, Spud! Awesome star choker. Where did you get it?? She got it at Hot Topic in the mall. * * * What is giardia? It’s an intestinal infection that humans and animals can get. According to the shelter manager, Giardia seems to be one of those conditions that no one can agree on. [For treatment] Some say once a day, some say twice. Dosages seem to vary as well as duration of treatment. Per the parasitologist at Cornell (I attended a lecture at a conference a couple of years ago) it’s next to impossible to cure and some cats carry giardia with them forever. It’s never cured and reoccurs when the cat is under stress. * * * do you at least get to write all these vet visits off on your taxes? I wish! Well, actually, I don’t know. Perhaps I should have Fred ask the accountant. Maybe we could write off the cost of gas to transport the cats to the vet, anyway! * * * Where did you get those fabulous slippers? My mother bought them at Parisian, and it appears that they’re also available at Nordstrom and Dillard’s. I found this site where you can buy them, but it appears that the selection is dwindling quickly. Also available through Amazon, and I’d give eBay a try, too – search on “Shues.” * * * I wish you had a “Mister Boogers Hates You” poster, because I would buy it. I’ve also used the “Mister Boogers Hates You” stare on people, and it works great!!! It’s always the little things in life. No poster, but there may be forthcoming “Mister Boogers Hates You” merchandise including t-shirts, tote bags, and I don’t know. Post cards? Stay tuned! * * * Ewww…. Does that mean that Mama Kitty had babies with her son????? Or am I just misunderstanding?? No, we were calling him “Daddy kitty” because he was a mostly-adult male who suddenly was showing up with Momma kitty and the kittens, so we assumed he was the father. The vet decided he could very well be one of her kittens from a previous litter, but we’ve called him “Daddy kitty” for long enough that the name kind of stuck. Which isn’t to say that he couldn’t still be the father of the kittens. God knows cats are animals and gross things like that don’t bother them. After all, we’re talking about animals who kick their legs up in polite company and clean where the sun don’t shine. A little incest probably wouldn’t bother them all that much. ::shudder:: * * * I have a question for you. You may have told us before, but I don’t go back that far. Because you volunteer at the pet (?)store(?), do you get free spaying/neutering services for as many cats as you want to bring in? Or are you and Fred dishing out the normal fees for these services for all these cats? Just curious… I know it costs an arm and a leg here in the Northeast to have it done, so I can’t imaging having to pay for multitudes of cats to be done. When we take foster kittens to be spayed and neutered, the shelter pays for that (at a discounted price). So we didn’t pay for Maxi’s kittens to be fixed, or Maddy, or any of the fosters. We did pay for Maxi and Newt to be fixed and to get all their shots, but I consider that money well spent. It ensures that Maxi won’t get pregnant and bring more litters into the world, and that Newt won’t contribute to the problem, either. * * * Happy Halloween! Do you all give candy out? Can you eat sugar free candy since having gastric bypass or no candy at all? Fred was at the house on Halloween and the spud was at work. I did buy candy, and put it in a bowl with a sign that said “Take one” because I’m not someone who enjoys handing out candy all that much. I think the kids who came by took more than one, but as long as I didn’t have to keep answering the door, I was happy. I cannot eat sugar free candy, because the malitol and sorbitol – any of the -itols, really – sugar free stuff is sweetened with make me bloated and gassy and have actually been known to make me throw up in the past. I can stomach regular candy, but I avoid it most of the time. * * * I just reserved Lisey’s Story from the library today and hope to get to read it soon, so I’m glad to hear you’re liking it. I usually like King’s books, but not all the time (sometimes they’re way too gross or instense for me). Dean Koontz is more my style. Have you read Life Expectancy? It’s my favorite Koontz book (in fact, the first one I read that made me read others). I read Life Expectancy in March of 2005 (I only know when I read it because of my reading list) and enjoyed it a great deal. In fact, when we read that there was going to be a sequel to Odd Thomas, Fred and I both got all kinds of excited, because we mixed it up with Life Expectancy. Fred’s a bigger Dean Koontz fan than I am, but I like him a lot and have read most, if not every one of, his books. Watchers is our favorite Dean Koontz book. In fact, just thinking about it makes me want to read it again. * * * Happy anniversary Fred and Robyn. Were you married on Halloween? We were – October 31st is always Halloween (my mother didn’t know that – when I told her we were getting married on Halloween, she said “Oh, that’s neat. Every now and then your anniversary will be on Halloween!” and I said “No, Halloween is always October 31st.” I guess she thought it was, like, the last Friday of the month or something rather than a set date.). And no, we didn’t dress up in costume when we got married. We talked about going as Bill and Hilary, but didn’t. * * * I, too, was wondering if the cost of getting the Mom and Dad cats and their kittens spayed and neutered was covered by the no-kill shelter. If not, I would like to donate to the cause. Let me know! The shelter covered the kittens, yes. Mom and Dad, no. But save your money – I’m going to be raising money for the shelter beginning December 1st and running for a couple of weeks (at least), and I’ll be soliciting donations then. There’ll be things to buy (t-shirts, catnip pillows, calendars), or you can just make a straight donation to the shelter through me. * * * Isn’t there some kind of life cycle tie in thing between tape worms and fleas? Like if they have one then they have the other? Although I assume the vet would have noticed if they were flea infested, and you guys would have too. And I think if cats are outdoors chances are huge they will have worms, which is totally gross. Did you guys worm Mommy Kitty and Daddy Kitty? The vet said that they could have gotten the worms from eating fleas, or from eating wildlife (ie, the squirrels Momma kitty likes to catch). We did worm them all with Nemex as soon as we brought them inside, but Nemex doesn’t treat tapeworms, so we had to re-treat them with Drontal which gets rid of tapeworms. * * * Your new logo got me thinking….how do you like your new Suzuki Reno? I am looking at cars (Huyndai Accent, Toyota Yaris, and the Suzuki Reno), wanted to know your thoughts. I am really liking my Reno so far. The only thing I don’t like about it (and you’re going to roll your eyes at me, but just shaddup) is that it doesn’t have a temperature gauge for the outside temperature. I KNOW I don’t particularly need one but I liked having it with the Aerio and I kind of miss it! But as far as handling, room, and mileage, the Reno is working very well for me. * * * what are the chances of tracking the larvae from room to room and infesting the other cats? I can’t believe how beautiful those cats are to be so wormy.Will they be put up for adoption? My Mother always told us if we swallowed a cat hair that it would turn into a worm in our stomach. I’m so glad that is not true. How does Spidey Man feel about those kittens? I’m not sure what the chances are of infecting the other cats with worms. We’re very careful to always wash our hands after we’ve spent time with the kittens and if our cats contract worms, well, we’ll treat them. Mister Boogers has contracted tapeworms in the past from foster kittens, so I guess it’s always possible. The kittens are in great shape (and unwormy now, I assume, since they’ve been treated and I haven’t spotted any worms since poor Princess Buttercup had her worm-barfing spree); they’re at excellent weights, and they have the softest, thickest fur I’ve ever seen on kittens. They’re going to go up for adoption as soon as possible. The younger cats tend to be adopted faster (or so it seems), so hopefully they’ll be adopted quickly. With the exception of Princess Buttercup they’re all total lovebugs, and she’s so pretty that I think she’ll be adopted quickly as well. Spidey has no opinion on the kittens. Kittens do not scare him. KITTENS DO NOT SCARE SPIDEY. He will simply kick their asses if they try anything with him, and as long as Malevolent Madeleine doesn’t show her face again, he should be fine…. or WILL HE? * * * On a side note my friend who is a “dog person” recently discovered a baby kitten at her work which she took in and nursed back to health. But the vet here wouldn’t spay her until she was 4 months or 4 lbs. I just thought that was weird since you just got Maddy spayed and she’s just barely 7 weeks isn’t she? The ASPCA has declared that spaying a kitten who is at least 2 months old and 2 pounds is safe. Maddy was (looking at the calendar…) actually 9 weeks old when she was spayed. I think that it’s probably hard to find a vet who will spay and neuter kittens at such a young age. I don’t know if it’s so much that they disagree with spaying/ neutering so young and small as the fact that it’s got to be more difficult to spay/ neuter a 2-pound kitten than one twice that size. The shelter was lucky enough to find a vet who would/ could do it, which is a good thing – I think there was an issue with people adopting cats, promising to have them fixed, and then not following through. Nowadays, the shelter won’t adopt out kittens until after they’ve been fixed, and like I mentioned earlier, the smaller a kitten is, the faster it seems to be adopted. Here’s an interesting page of facts about spaying and neutering. * * * Your hair looks really cute in the group pic. Why’d you blur out Fred? and I don’t know what’s cracking me up so much, but the picture of in-focus you with the three blur-people is hilarious! I blurred out Fred in that picture because it cracked me up to put up a picture of me and three blurs. Also, back when Rick was in Alabama on business and we met him for dinner, I knew I had to blur Rick’s face, so Fred told me I had to blur his face as well. * * * I have a bunch of pictures of Maddy I haven’t cleared off my memory stick yet, so you’ll be seeing them for the next few days. YOU’RE WELCOME.

She fell asleep like this.

**********************************

Happy Sugs. * * * Previously 2005: This makes me want to wrap my child in bubble wrap and lock her in her room until she’s 35. 2004: No entry. 2003: Meme. 2002: “How fucking much is that goddamn bread? A dollar ninety-fucking-five? Okay, put a couple of the motherfuckers in my cart, would you, fuckwad?” 2001: I briefly considered making a citizen’s arrest. 2000: (ie, “It’s all the fault of that fat bitch you married!”) 1999: I woke this morning at 2:30ish, feeling something wasn’t quite right. ]]>

11/6/06

* * * So I thought Rick was going to kill me on Friday. He and Nance showed up and we hung out at the house for a while, then went out for a late breakfast/ early lunch at Cracker Barrel. After, we decided to go to Scottsboro to check out the Unclaimed Baggage store, and since Rick was driving and I (supposedly) knew where we were going, it was up to me to instruct him where to go. Let’s just say I had him cutting across three lanes of traffic not once, not twice, but THREE times. I guess you could say I suck at giving directions. I ended up getting in trouble with Fred because he left work early so Nance and Rick could see the house while it was still light outside (which I’d asked him the night before to do), but when he got home we weren’t there. He’d made it sound like he couldn’t leave work early; how was I supposed to know he’d not only leave work early, he’d do it without calling me to let me know he was on his way? Fred told Nance that the only thing that could be done to repay him for having to wait for us was if she’d get on the tractor. And she did! Fred was nice, though, and didn’t make her drive the tractor or anything. We showed them the house and the grounds and babbled at them both about our plans for every single room and probably bored the everloving shit out of them, but they were nice and pretended to be interested. I promise you this: if you come to visit me in the next few months, I will babble incessantly at YOU about our plans for the house, too. And Fred will probably insist that you drive the tractor around the back forty. We took them to our favorite “Not haute cuisine or fancy in any way, but cheap and good!” country restaurant (and I coveted Nance’s ham and cheese sandwich and wished I’d ordered that instead) and swung by the Starbucks in Athens on the way home to check for half-price Halloween merchandise. (Confidential to Nance: The Starbucks in Target didn’t have half-price Halloween stuff, either. I checked for you!)

“Lady, why you wearing Elmo on your feet?” Once back at our house, we watched Mission Impossible III (is that right? III? Have there only been 3 of them? It seems like there have been SO many more than that.) and then talked and made Maddy and the rest of the cats show off for them. Fred spread catnip across the carpet, Mister Boogers got high and acted like an ass, and Miz Poo just sat there and smacked anyone who got within smacking distance. After a while, they left, promising to come back in the morning on their way out of town to pick up Maddy. And naturally I made everyone pose for a picture first.

Don’t I totally look Photoshopped in? That’s RickBlur on the left (of course you remember him from his visit to Alabama a while back), NanceBlur next to him, me, then FredBlur. I kind of half-hoped they’d skedaddle out of town without picking up Miss Maddy, and I got teary-eyed for a moment at bedtime when Miss Maddy settled down next to me. But then she woke me up Saturday morning at 5:45 by biting me on the back, and I wished Nance and Rick would just show the hell up and take her away already. I do miss the little brat, but I know she’s going to be spoiled rotten in Pennsylvania so I’m not worried about her. Besides, it gives me an excuse to visit Pennsylvania, right? So I can check up on Maddy’s welfare and make sure they’re not beating her too much. * * * We worked at the house all weekend, of course. Saturday I did some painting inside (doors and the shelves in one of the spud’s closets) and then worked outside for a while. Fred had occasion to visit Lowe’s on Friday morning and while he was there, he bought me a new toy.

My very own little chainsaw!

Before.

After. After we had lunch, I finished taping around the top of the spud’s room so Fred could paint the trim, and then I went outside and worked on more of the lawn behind the shed and garage. There’s a fairly decent lawn back there, but a lot of weeds and small trees have popped up, so I chopped a ton of them down with my chainsaw (the chain only came off once, which I consider pretty good for me) and hauled them to the burn pile. There was a lot of difference when I was done (or at least when I gave up for the day), but naturally I didn’t take any pictures so you’ll have to take my word for it. I want to work on the area along the ditch behind the shed and garage (the ditch pretty much marks the property boundary) and clear it out on Tuesday, and then maybe next weekend I’ll be ready to clear the yard next to and behind the house so I can actually mow the lawn there. We shall see. * * * Dear Julie, Waldo, Geneva, and Sadie: Please be nice to your new little sister. Or she will…

Pull out the Matrix movies and…

tell you what she really thinks of you. She’s good for snuggling with; just don’t get too close to her when she’s wide awake. You wouldn’t like her when she’s wide awake. xoxo, Robyn * * *

Spidey is not sneaking into the fridge for a cool bottle of water and a nice apple. NOT. You don’t see Spidey. Spidey was never here, you understand? * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: So, Jackie, how’s the weather up there in Vancouver Washington? 2002: My life. So very exciting. 2001: Instead, when the question was posed to him, he looked at me as if I were perhaps mentally deficient. 2000: Have I mentioned that I love that man? 1999: And when you’re not good at something, unless you’re hugely delusional, you pretty much know that you’re not good at it. Even if you don’t know, there’s always someone more than willing to point it out to you.]]>

11/1/06

new logo! This one was created by the wonderful Aly in GA. Thanks, Aly!

* * * I don’t know what the weather was like where y’all are, but last night just as it started to get dark – when the trick or treaters usually start showing up – it began raining like hell. I had to go to Ardmore to pick up the kittens, and when I got back an hour later, it was still raining and there were no trick or treaters in sight. I had to go to the pet store to meet the shelter manager and pick up some stuff for the kittens, and when I got home, there were trick or treaters all over the place. Since I had no desire to keep getting up to answer the door, I put all the candy I’d bought in a big bowl, put it on the front step along with a note that read “Take one”. “No one’s going to just take one,” Fred told me. “They’re going to grab as many as they can.” I did not care in the slightest. I had candy, I wanted the trick or treaters to get rid of it, and I didn’t care if one of them poured the whole bowl of candy in his sack. There was a steady stream of trick or treaters (I could hear them walk up to the door and say “It says take ONE”) and an hour after I’d put the bowl out, I looked out to see that there were two pieces of hard candy left, and a slug crawling up the side of the bowl. I hope one of the little brats who took a handful of candy ended up with a slug, too. That’d serve ’em right! * * * I brought Maxi’s kittens home last night and put them in Maddy’s room. I got them settled in (Inigo kept walking around making a questioning chirping sound. Apparently he was disturbed by the change in scenery.) and when I walked out the door, all the cats in the house were gathered around staring at the door. Maddy, especially, wanted to know what was going on. I believe if she had the power of speech she would have said “WTF, lady? That’s MY room!” When Fred got home from the house, we went upstairs and gave them all their medication (they saw tapeworms coming out of Princess Buttercup at the vet and said that most likely all the kittens have tapeworms, so we gave each of them a dose of Drontal for that, metronidazole for the giardia, and Albon for the coccydia). The boys were ultra friendly, crawling around on us, playing, letting us pick them up and pet them, purring very loudly. Princess Buttercup is very shy, but even she came out of hiding a few times to let Fred pet her. We came back downstairs to watch TV, and decided to go to bed early so we could stop and play with the kittens for a little while on our way to bed. I went upstairs and Fred said “I just stepped in a pile of puke inside the door! While I go downstairs and turn the computer room light off, why don’t you clean it up?” This, for the record, goes against the “He who spies it cleans it the hell up. Complaining is allowed.” rule, but I was game. I took the baby wipe he handed me and went to our bedroom door to clean up the puke. “Where is it?” I yelled down to him. “Right inside the doorway.” I looked and looked, and didn’t see a single pile of puke anywhere. “I don’t see it!” I yelled. “You can’t miss it!” he called back as he came up the stairs. “Apparently I can!” I said. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Looking for the pile of puke!” “It’s inside the cat room,” he said, looking at me like I was an IDIOT. Which I am. “Oh. Well, here, you clean it up. I have to go to the bathroom.” He called me a bad word and went into the cat room to clean it up. As I came out of the bathroom, I heard him make an exclamation of serious disgust. “What?” I said. “I thought this was a rubber band,” he said, and flipped on the overhead light. He held out the baby wipe, which was wrapped around half-digested cat food. “But it’s a TAPEWORM!” Fred went back into the cat room and ended up finding another two piles of vomit, and the last one he found was NOTHING but worms. I’d never seen a tapeworm up close and personal before, but there was no doubt it was a tapeworm – it was flat and wide and very very long. Also, it had segments. There was a long, skinny worm (or worms) mixed in there as well. I freaked OUT, because I had NO IDEA that a cat could ever vomit up worms. I know they come out the other end, but as far as being vomited up? I’d never heard of such a thing. “I’m going to call Susan,” I said, and did. In fact, I left her one message, and when Fred found the pile of nothin’ but worms, I called again to let her know that Princess Buttercup was vomiting up a LOT of worms. I could have called her on her cell phone, but I didn’t think it was an emergency, so I figured if I didn’t hear from her, I’d call her in the morning. We went back into the cat room and played with the boys and kept an eye on PB, who looked like she wasn’t feeling well at all, but then she came out of the carrier (where she’d been sleeping) and started playing like she felt just fine. Susan called me back about an hour later and asked if I was sure they were tapeworms PB had been vomiting up (I was), and we discussed what I should do (give the kittens Revolution today, because it will kill some of the worms, then wait a few days and give her another Drontal (did I mention that Fred dug through the piles of cat vomit until he found a half-digested Drontal pill? Now THAT, my friends, is a man.)), and at one point she said “You’ve just got all KINDS of parasites going on, don’t you?” and laughed. INDEED. This morning, PB seems to be acting just fine, if skittish (which is normal for her). The first thing I did when I walked into the room was give them Metronidazole which they hate because it tastes nasty, but they forgave me, and soon Fezzik and Inigo were flopping all over me, wanting to be petted, and purring their little butts off. These kittens are just so sweet. I’d love it if they all got adopted together (not going to hold my breath, though), but I’d be happy if they got adopted in two sets of two, too.

“Stop looking at me, or I’ll barf up a tapeworm in your lap.” *********************** Someone asked in yesterday’s comments if my mother was adopting Maddy. That’s a no, though she did say a few times “If this one didn’t already have someone adopting her, I’d bring her home with me!” Which I don’t believe, because when they were here last year she and my father absolutely fell in love with Jodie and Rambo, and they didn’t adopt them. I just don’t think they’re that interested in having their own cat, though they love visiting and loving on ours. Maddy’s going to her new home this weekend. I’m going to miss the little brat, for sure. I can’t believe she’s the same kitten we got when she was three weeks old (hard to believe it’s been almost 7 weeks!), she’s such a little spitfire that I could sit and watch her crazy antics for hours.

All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * *

The Sugs is disturbed.

The Sugs is taking his life in his paws.

HATE. * * * Previously 2005: And I don’t WANNA. 2004: Fuckin’ yawnsville. 2003: No entry. 2002: Bob Riley’s campaign strategy is to say “Nuh uh!” 2001: Did you know that they make foam cups in espresso size? 2000: No entry. 1999: Such appetizing topics, eh?]]>

10/31/06

* * * So, my mother is on her way home to Maine. I got up at 6 this morning to shower and get dressed, then go out to Smallville to give everyone their medicine and put the kittens in their carriers. They were NOT happy at being put in such a small space, and either Westley or Fezzik howled all the way to Ardmore. Whichever one it was, he sounded JUST like Maxi. At the vet clinic I told the receptionist all of the kittens’ names, then we carried them out back for weighing. While we were back there, the vet’s assistant was holding either Fezzik or Inigo when a man brought his dog out back to weigh him. I thought the kitten saw the dog and was okay, but I was wrong – because when the kitten saw the dog, he freaked OUT, and that vet’s assistant ended up with some serious fucking scratches before I could pull the kitten off of her, poor woman. Anyway, the kittens are being spayed and neutered and are getting their ID chips today, and I’ll be picking them up after 5 to bring them back here to the house. I got back to Madison about 20 minutes later than I’d intended, but my mother wasn’t quite ready to leave yet anyway, and we had two hours before her flight left, so we had plenty of time. I dropped her off at the airport (I offered to go in with her, but she said she didn’t need me to), stopped at Wal-Mart for some Halloween candy, and came home. Where I’ve been doing various cleaning things around the house, cleaned Maddy’s room (which will belong to Maxi’s kittens as of this evening), and made spaghetti for Fred’s lunches this week. I also watched Lost from last week. Speaking of TV – how about that ending on Prison Break last night?! That was something, eh?

* * * The Nebshit Game! 1. If someone offered you $1,000 to be a phone sex operator for 1 hour, would you do it? I’d do it, but I don’t know that I’d be very good at it, unless hysterical giggling is considered a huge turn-on. 2. Have you ever left an anonymous comment online? Not that I recall. I’ve been tempted, but stopped by the fact that whoever’s site it is can see my IP address and might know that it’s me. 3. Have you eaten something that you dropped on the floor? Alllllll the time. I’m such a klutz that half of what I carry across the kitchen ends up on the floor. 4. If you call someone and get an answering machine, are you more likely to leave a message or hang up? Depends on why I’m calling. If I want them to call me back, I leave a message. If I had a question and can get the answer elsewhere, I don’t. If I’m calling ’cause I’m bored and wanted to talk sometimes I leave a message, sometimes not. 5. What is your favorite candy bar? I don’t really eat candy bars anymore, but I used to adore the Big Kat Kit Kat bars. * * * Okay… um. I guess that’s it for today. Nothing to report, nothing to babble about, just nothin’. I need to do a little more cleaning, then perhaps some laundry and then I’m going to land on the couch with my book and read for a while. I’m currently reading Lisey’s Story, by Stephen King. I’m liking this book a LOT. I finished Stop Dressing Your Six Year-Old Like a Skank, and I’ve gotta say: Eh. I didn’t really like it that much. I got that it was supposed to be humorous, but I don’t think I cracked a smile even once while I was reading it. * * *

I don’t know why my mother felt that Maddy would make a good hat. Maddy did not agree.

Maddy’s favorite place to nap. All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. I understand that y’all are disappointed that we’re not keeping Maddy, but I TOLD you we weren’t! And I can guarantee that she’s going to a really good home where she’ll be spoiled rotten and loved to within an inch of her life. Maybe I can browbeat her new Momma into sending some pictures of her as she grows up. * * *

Mister Boogers is currently in a state of catatonic despair, he hates you so much. * * * Previously 2005: Let the Seven Year Itch commence! 2004: Happy anniversary, you walnut-farting motherfucker. 2003: There’s nothing like a good second marriage to show you how bad the first one really was. 2002: He even sent me flowers. 2001: And they said it’d never last. 2000: And happy anniversary to Fred, who married me two years ago tonight, which was the smartest thing he’s ever done. 1999: “We don’t have to get married. We could just wait ’til next year. Shouldn’t we get married on the anniversary of the day we met? That would be more romantic!”]]>

10/30/06

Thursday morning I got up early, packed Maddy up in her carrier, and took her to the vet. She hit two pounds on Monday and the person who’s adopting her (who is not, for the record, ME) wants to adopt her this weekend and I was hoping I could get her spayed before that happened (it’s the shelter’s policy not to adopt out kittens ’til after they’re fixed), and was pleased to see that her recent voracious eating had brought about the needed weight gain. So it was off to the vet for Miss Maddy, who also got an ID chip. I dropped Maddy off at the vet, then drove from Ardmore to Smallville – a drive that took me about 25 minutes. In Smallville I went into the house and fed the stray Momma cat, the Daddy cat, and the kittens. Did I even mention that Fred lured them into the house Tuesday evening, and they’d been staying in the master bedroom? They adapted pretty well, which was probably helped by the fact that we got into the habit – a BAD habit, probably – of taking canned food to them a couple of times a day. All the cats were suffering from diarrhea, which made the litter box situation pretty nasty (and WAY smelly, as you can imagine), so I took a third litter box with me, bought some new litter (made for “small spaces”), and dumped out the old litter from the other two boxes, cleaned the boxes, and refilled them with fresh litter. The car of a crazy cat lady. I fed the cats, swept the floor of the master bedroom, and headed back to Madison. Thursday being the spud’s birthday – her 18th birthday, even – I wanted to make the actual day kind of special, so earlier in the week I’d ordered a balloon bouquet to pick up Thursday afternoon. Then I took it to the spud’s school and left it in her car, so she’d be surprised when she got out to the parking lot to go home. Not only did she get a balloon bouquet from us, she got 18 roses from her grandparents in California and a bouquet of carnations from her father and his wife. It was a bouquet-filled kinda day, which I think she really appreciated. Thursday evening I went to pick up Maddy, brought her home and let her out of her carrier, worried that she might be in pain and need to be put in her room, away from the boys and their rambunctiousness. Instead, she bounced out of the carrier, bounced around the room, jumped on my mother’s feet, jumped on Mister Boogers, and howled to be fed. I’d say she wasn’t too traumatized. Friday I had to get up bright and early again, this time to go to the Smallville house and box up Momma Kitty and Daddy Kitty. They had an appointment to be tested, get all their shots, and be spayed and neutered. I was worried that it was going to be really hard to get them in the carriers, but all I had to do was walk through the door with a plate of canned cat food, put it down on the floor, and as soon as they came running over, I picked up Momma and Daddy and put them each in a carrier and close the door. They freaked OUT, running around in circles and trying to dig their way out of the carriers. I felt like a total jerk, traumatizing the poor things first by locking them in a room, and then putting them in carriers. Either they’d never been in carriers before or they HAD and knew that bad things happen after they put you in a carrier. They calmed down pretty quickly, and I put the carriers in the back seat placed so that they could see each other. Then I drove from Smallville to Ardmore in the pounding rain, which was OODLES of fun. To add to the fun, Momma Kitty howled most of the way, with Daddy Kitty chiming in every now and then. At the vet’s office, I told them the story of Momma Kitty and Daddy Kitty, and when we went back to weigh them, found that they both weighed just under 8 pounds. Since all the And3rson kitties weigh 9 pounds or more, you can imagine how little Momma and Daddy Kitty look to me. I had to give them names for the cats, and since I would have felt like a dork telling them that the names were Momma Kitty and Daddy Kitty, I named them on the spot. Maxi. And Newt. Isn’t it nice that I named cats that aren’t mine? Anyway, I asked them to call me after the testing (they test for Feline Leukemia and FIV) to let me know what the results were, and then I left. As I walked through the door at home, the phone was ringing and my mother held the phone out to me. “I didn’t know who it was, so I didn’t answer it,” she said. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was the vet’s office, and my heart sank. I was POSITIVE it was bad news. I called them back, and they put the vet on the phone with me. The testing came back just fine, AND it was the vet’s opinion that Maxi wasn’t pregnant. Fred and I were pretty sure she was, because she’d started to get kind of barrel-bellied recently, and Fred thought when he’d picked her up the day before that he could feel the head of a kitten. If the vet had determined that she was pregnant, we were going to let her have the kittens and then have her spayed when they were weaned. I’ve gotta say – I was WAY relieved to find out that she wasn’t pregnant. We talked about what shots Maxi and Newt needed, and the vet told me that I could pick them up after 5:00. A few hours later, the phone rang. It was the vet’s office again, and the woman I talked to told me that (1) They’d come through their respective operations just fine (2) Newt had giardia and (3) They both had ear mites. They told me that slippery elm bark could help soothe their digestive systems while they were being treated for giardia, and so instead of hanging out in the living room reading, I spent the next two hours going from store to store looking for powdered slippery elm bark. Which I found at Garden Cove, the health food store in Huntsville. Around 4:15, my mother and I went to the vet clinic and picked up Maxi and Newt, who regarded us warily, and drove from Ardmore to Smallville, where we went to the house and put Maxi and Newt in the laundry room with a litter box, bowl of food, water, and a couple of cat beds. We’re keeping them at the house until they’re done with their giardia medication – which will be tomorrow evening – and Maxi’s incision has gotten a good head-start on healing before we take them over to the neighbor’s house. Oh, an interesting side note: the vet estimated Maxi’s age at about two years. When I asked her about Newt, she paused and said “Is there any reason to think they might not be related?” We had thought that maybe he was her kitten from a previous litter and I told the vet that, and she said that was pretty likely. He’s not fully grown yet, though she didn’t really give me an estimate on his age. The kittens are going to be spayed and neutered (did I mention there are three boys and one girl?) tomorrow, so I’ll have to leave the house early, go to Smallville, put the kittens in carriers, drive to Ardmore, drop them off, drive to Madison, pick up my mother, and take her to the airport. Then in the evening I’ll pick the kittens up at the vet’s, take them to Madison (where they’ll take over Maddy’s room – how RUDE, to be displaced like that) and get them settled in. You could say I’m using up a lot of gas lately. Oh, and the kittens have been named, courtesy of Fred. Meet… Fezzik. Inigo. Westley. And Princess Buttercup. Yeah, Fred’s a Princess Bride fan. Saturday morning I went out to Smallville, scooped litter boxes, talked Fred through what medication to give which cats (the kittens are now being treated for giardia as well), swept the master bedroom (those kittens can scatter that kitty litter all over the place), and went back to Madison, stopping to fill up my gas tank on the way. My mother and I left Madison at noon, and ended up in Nashville on Music Valley Drive almost exactly two hours later. I didn’t think we’d be able to check in so early, but I asked (can’t hurt, right?) and since they’d just finished cleaning the room, they let us check in. It was the Comfort Inn Opryland, nothing fancy or anything, but I’ve ceased in my old age to be much impressed by any hotel rooms (but maybe that’s just because I haven’t stayed at a really nice one?) and as long as it’s reasonably clean, I don’t much care about anything else. We unpacked, then went out to find a convenience store so we could stock up on water and snacks (the downside to the room was that it didn’t have a refrigerator!). We didn’t have to go far, and then went back to the hotel where we read and talked. We had dinner at a Tex-Mex steakhouse I can’t recall the name of. I had the shrimp; she had a steak. There were far more people in the restaurant than we’d expected to see at 4:00 on a Saturday, so we figured the majority of them were going to the Opry as well. After we ate, we went back to the hotel room and killed time until 5:00. There’s a bus that stops at all the hotels on Music Valley Rd, and for $5 round-trip, they’ll take you to the Opryhouse and back to your hotel afterward. We were told that the bus would show up between 5 and 5:30, but it didn’t show up until almost 5:45. Which wasn’t a big deal – the show didn’t start until 6:30, so we had plenty of time to get there and find our seats. The place was PACKED, and we killed time watching the people go by. Then the show started, and just like last time I went to the Opry, it was one hell of a show. Apparently on Saturday nights they televise the Opry from 7 to 8 (central time) on GAC. I text-messaged the spud and told her to call Fred and tell him to tape it in case any of the pans across the audience captured us. She didn’t get the message in time, though, so he didn’t tape it. Oh well. The 7 – 8 pm portion of the show was hosted by Barbara Mandrell – you should have SEEN my mother’s jaw drop when she saw Barbara Mandrell walk onto the stage – and it had Suzy Bogguss, Lorrie Morgan, and Randy Owen featured, singing songs from the Barbara Mandrell tribute CD. I hoped like hell that Barbara would sing I Was Country (When Country Wasn’t Cool), but she didn’t sing at all. Apparently she no longer performs in public, damn her.

Rodney Atkins (in the cap).

Lorrie Morgan. I LOVE HER.

Barbara Mandrell.

Suzy Bogguss. I LOVE HER.

Barbara Mandrell and Randy Owen, from Alabama. Barbara said that she was in the studio when Randy Owen taped the song for the tribute album and “It literally melted my heart.” Someone better call Dr. Preston Burke and report the medical miracle that is Barbara Mandrell walking and talking after her heart melted out her body.

One of the sponsors. Sounds like a gentlemen’s lounge, doesn’t it? Apparently it’s not. It was, all in all, a very good show. I wish we’d been more front and center than several rows back on the left side of the stage (left side facing the stage, anyway); next time I’ll have to get tickets a little more in advance. There were a lot of acts I didn’t know at all, but the last act was Rodney Atkins, who sings Watching You and If You’re Going Through Hell – which, no coincidence, happened to be the two songs he sang. The thing that’s awesome about the Opry is also the thing that sucks: each act sings, at most, three songs. When you don’t know or don’t care for the act, it’s good that they’re not onstage, but if you like the act, you’d like to see more. When the show was over at 9, we went to the gift shop, but it was so busy and everything was so expensive (I mean, come on. Fifty bucks for a freakin’ sweatshirt?!) that neither of us bought anything, and we headed out to find our bus. Which we did easily, and when the bus driver pointed out that tips were accepted in the guise of thanking those who had tipped her, my mother and I rolled our eyes at each other, but I still tipped the woman a couple of bucks on my way out of the bus. In the hotel room, my mother took a bath and then she and I read until almost midnight. I slept fairly well, only getting up a couple of times to go to the bathroom. When we were both awake, I asked what time it was, and was shocked to find out it was 8:00. (Well, actually 7:00 because of the turning-the-clock back, but we’d gotten 8 solid hours of sleep, so I was shocked. I never sleep that well in a strange bed!) We were checked out of the hotel by 9, and went off to have breakfast before heading for home. We had breakfast at Cracker Barrel (GOD I love the Cracker Barrel gift shop. I picked up a Christmas present for my youngest nephew while I was there that just cracks me the hell up.) and then hit the highway. The trip home went well until we took our exit off highway 65. We had just turned onto the exit when a deer came FLYING out of the woods next to the road and ran directly in front of the SUV in front of us. My mother and I both gasped “Oh no!”, and I instantly stomped on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. The image I remember most is watching one of the deer’s antlers break off and go spinning down the road. It happened so fast that the next thing I remember is looking up to see the deer caught under the SUV. “He’s still alive!” my mother said, and I said “He can’t be!”, but I looked at the deer and could see him moving, trying to stand up. The driver of the SUV clearly had no idea what to do, so hit the gas and basically dragged the deer down the road until the SUV’s back tires went over the deer. The deer twitched and tried to stand, then was still for a few minutes, then tried again to stand. I called 911 (in restrospect I should have called 411 and asked for the Ardmore, TN police department, but I was pretty freaked out) and reported what was going on. They connected me to the police department and I told them what was going on, and whoever it was who’d answered the phone told me they’d send someone out. I thought about sticking around until the police showed up, but I suspected that they’d end up shooting the deer to put it out of its misery, and I really didn’t want to see that, so I pulled up and told the driver of the SUV that I’d called the police and they were sending someone out. I think I shook for about an hour afterward. I thought about calling Fred, but was afraid I’d burst into tears (I’m such a softy that I loathe the thought of ANY animal being terrified and in pain) and didn’t want to go to Ugly Cry while driving down the road with my mother beside me. And that was pretty much it. We got home a few minutes after noon, hung around the house, I went through my pictures, made unfried chicken for dinner, and then my mother and I ran out to Smallville so I could give the cats their medicine (the kittens LOATHE the metronidazole I give them for the giardia) and scoop the litter boxes. I noticed that Newt’s eyes were red and painful looking, so I put antibiotic ointment in his eyes. If his eyes don’t look better when I go out the house a little later, I guess it’ll be back to the vet for him! In closing, check out the slippers my mother bought for herself. She bought me a pair, too (which I don’t get until Christmas), and I told her the other day that they look like Muppet slippers, as if perhaps they were made from the skin of a slaughtered Grover.

Maddy seems to like them.

* * * Oh, and while my mother and I were off hanging out in Nashville, Fred was working his ass off, and finished another of the upstairs rooms. **************************************************

Meester Boogers, he hate you. * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: List of fives. 2003: (Also, Nance called me “nice.” That bitch!) 2002: But I don’t guess that introspection is the forte of that particular diva. 2001: Who tells stories about you? 2000: This morning, red and goopy. 1999: (Side note: I did nothing, and that just pisses me off. I wish I could go back and smack the shit out of that jerk. I hope his life is hellish).]]>

10/24/06

reading: Stop Dressing Your Six Year-old Like a Skank, by Celia Rivenbark. With a name like that, it’s got to be good, right? I hope so – I’m only a few pages into it.

* * * One important thing I learned on Saturday is that being lazy is no excuse for wearing a sweatshirt over your t-shirt and sweatpants and knee-high black rubber boots on your feet to push the push mower around the hilly parts of the lawn so you won’t have to go inside and upstairs to change. By the time you’re done pushing the push mower around the hilly parts of the lawn, you’ll be dripping sweat all over the place, and there is little doubt that you will forever be known as “That weird woman who was wearing black rubber boots to mow the lawn” around your soon-to-be hometown. Also, I have painful spots on the backs of my upper calves where the boots rubbed and made raw spots. Ouch. * * * I got up early yesterday morning (I am really and truly not a morning person. I might get up early most mornings, but I still have one hell of a hard time dragging my ass out of bed, unlike you crazy morning people who bound out of bed with a smile on your lips and a song in your heart) to get dressed and go do my thing at the pet store. When I got home, my mother was up and dressed, watching TV and talking to my father. I put the groceries I’d bought away (she’d asked if we had any yogurt on Sunday, and I told her we didn’t, but later found out that we did, indeed, have yogurt. With an expiration date of September 10th on it. Blech.) and then went upstairs to let Maddy out of the kitten room. Maddy IS a morning person, and always runs out of the kitten room at full speed, pounces on my feet, pounces on Tommy or Mister Boogers (the only two who’ll really play with her; she’s a little scared of Miz Poo, and Sugarbutt’s a little scared of her. Spanky and Spot are just cranky old men who won’t play.), pounces on various toys, and then runs at full speed down the stairs to sit in the kitchen and whine about how hungry she is until I give her a little canned cat food. (Spoiling her rotten, I’m sure, so it will make her new mommy’s job just THAT much harder.) I took a shower, folded some laundry, and cleaned the kitchen a little until about 9:30, when the spud, my mother, and I left the house to have breakfast at Cracker Barrel. The spud didn’t have school because of “parenting day”, so I though the best way to parent her was to fill her full of fatty, high-calorie food for breakfast, and then drag her out to the Smallville house. Breakfast at Cracker Barrel was good – of course – and then we headed out to the Smallville house. I wanted to see if Momma and Daddy Kitty and their kittens were hanging around so I could lure them inside, but they weren’t, so I just dropped off the supplies I’d brought out to the house for the day when we are able to lure them inside (litter boxes, litter, toys, deworming medication), and swept the floor of the master bedroom (that was where we were keeping Maddy the last few times we took her out to the house with us, and she scattered litter all over the floor) and the kitchen. My mother pointed out the windows in the dining room (the ones on either side of the fireplace, as seen here) and actually suggested that we make them bigger – long, skinny windows was her idea, I think – and I pretended that I thought it might be a good idea, but HELLZ NO I’m not going to make those long, skinny windows – I LOVE those windows, the way they are. The dining room with the big fireplace and the windows on either side are one of my favorite things about the house! (Okay. I have a LOT of favorite things about the house, I cannot lie.) When we were about to pull out of the driveway going left toward home, my mother said “What’s out that way?”, and so I took a right instead, and we went down some long country roads before heading for home. Once at home, my mother sat in front of the TV and read, and I puttered around doing this and that, and eventually I went upstairs, Maddy in hand, to read for a few minutes and then ultimately take a nap. I swear to god, I never ever take a nap ordinarily, but whenever I’m on vacation in Maine I take one almost every day, and when my parents are visiting I do as well. My mother tends to nap every day when she’s visiting, too, so I don’t know if it’s a vacation thing or just a way to escape, but in any case, I should be well-rested by the time she leaves next week! This morning I’m taking Miz Poo to the vet, and then my mother and I are headed to Unclaimed Baggage to see if we can’t find some bargains. Or something to sell on eBay for a profit. Either would make me happy! * * * For those of you who requested pictures of me in more “form-fitting” clothes, I’ll have 9-month progress pictures up next Tuesday or Wednesday, over at OFB. Speaking of clothes and the like, when I was folding laundry yesterday, I came across a couple of pairs of the spud’s jeans. She wears a size 14 (though honestly I think they’re a little big for her), and I wondered briefly if I’d fit into them. So I tried them on – and they fit. Not comfortably (they’re too tight through the thighs), but I was able to get them fastened and in a pinch I could probably wear them in public and not get any weird looks. Not that I would (I’m still most comfortable in cotton pants), but it was neat to be able to fit into the jeans of someone I was sure is much thinner than I am! Also, last week when Fred and I were at the Smallville house, we were changing into our grubbies – well, I was changing into my grubbies; he was changing into his new flannel shirt and fancy farmer’s pants – and at first I told him to take his pants off so I could try them on, but then I changed my mind and tried on the shorts he’d taken off. This is what I do for fun these days, you know. I try on other people’s clothes.

And his shorts not only fit, they were a little big for me. Not flattering, but they fit! * * *

* * *

Tommy keeps a wary eye on my mother. * * * Previously 2005: “That makes me want to get pregnant and have a baby, just so I can name it Lavernicus,” I admitted. “That WOULD be an excellent name.” 2004: No entry. 2003: It took two days from the first time I called Stanley “Beanie-bean” in front of Fred before Fred started doing it too. He’s such a copycat. 2002: “She was giving me a handjob under the water, and I didn’t stop her, even though I’m not attracted to her, BECAUSE I AM ONLY HUMAN.” 2001: Fred is a freak. 2000: “Uhhhh….” I said, casting around for something smart-ass or impressive to say. 1999: My desk is a total shitheap, because I’m Robyn and I’m a slob.]]>

10/23/06

* * * Saturday, after a morning and early afternoon painting and pulling up weeds and poison ivy (so far, no rashes!), I picked my mother up at the airport. She landed right on time, but I got there a little early so I’d have a chance to do a little reading. I’m not doing a lot of reading these days, you know. To my surprise, she’d only brought one suitcase with her (it was a DAMN heavy suitcase, though!), and I pulled it out to the car and then up the stairs when we got home. Did I mention it was a damn heavy suitcase? The spud had taken the day off work so she could get ready for homecoming, and she’d had her hair professionally put in an updo, and my mother admired that, and then we sat around and talked until it was time for the spud to get her homecoming dress on, and her date came to pick her up. I think the spud did a mighty good job picking out a homecoming dress, personally.

After the spud and her date left to go have dinner before homecoming, my mother and I went out to dinner as well. We discussed going to where the spud and her date were going, just so we could spy on her, but when we walked into the restaurant, there were a bunch of people waiting so we left and went to Applebee’s instead. At Applebee’s there were a ton of kids headed for homecoming, and we sat and looked at all the girls in their finery. Seriously, why even bother to bring boys to the dance? Boys’ homecoming outfits are borrrrrring, whereas it’s fun to look at the girls. We went home after dinner and watched TV with Fred, including episode 2 from this season of Grey’s Anatomy (woot!), and a little after 10:00, Fred said “I’m about to pass out” and I said “I am too”, and my mother was tired as well, so we all got up and went to bed. I had just gotten to sleep when the spud woke me up to unhook the back of her dress for her, and when I saw it was 11:00, I asked why she was home so early. It turns out that the dance was boring, so she told her boyfriend that he could go home at 10:00, and she’d get a ride home with her friend, and her friend wanted to leave a little before 11:00. Ah well. At least she looked good! Sunday morning my mother and I went out and had breakfast at the little country restaurant down the road from the Smallville house, and then went out so she could see the house. She seemed to like it, and kept me company while I put a second coat of paint on the closet doors (I had Fred remove all the doors in the spud’s bedroom and the guest bedroom so I could paint them, and it’s slow going, because I put on one coat of paint, then have to wait for it to dry before I put on the second coat, wait for that to dry, then flip the door over and start again with the painting. Luckily we’ve got time.). Then I helped Fred measure for crown molding in the guest bedroom, and held one end up while he nailed it in place. We’d talked about putting my mother to work at the Smallville house, but there was just really nothing for her to do – me either, for that matter – so we left Fred to his crown molding and coves and corners, went to get him some lunch, and headed home. I threw together a lasagna for dinner, and a hot dog and bean casserole (for Fred to take with him for dinners on the nights he works on the house this week), and then sat on the couch and alternately played with Maddy, read, and talked with my mother.

I don’t know exactly what our plans are this week. The spud turns 18 on Thursday, but she has to work so we’re taking her out to dinner and having a birthday cake for her Wednesday night instead. Other than that, I don’t know. I mentioned hitting the Unclaimed Baggage store, and she seemed interested. I’m hoping at some point to get out to the Smallville house and bring Momma Kitty, Daddy Kitty, and the kittens inside, since I’d like to keep them (temporarily, until they can be examined and fixed) in the master bedroom. Oh, I guess I didn’t mention – Fred talked to the neighbor Saturday, and she told him that Momma Kitty had just shown up one day, so she started feeding her, then she had her kittens, then Daddy Kitty showed up (so she doesn’t think he’s really Daddy to the kittens), so basically they don’t belong to anyone. We’re having them all fixed, and she’s willing to take Momma and Daddy once they’re fixed, and we’re going to foster the babies until there’s room open at the pet store. Naturally, they all disappeared Saturday afternoon and didn’t show up at all on Sunday, so we weren’t able to lure them inside (a task which shouldn’t be too difficult with the assistance of some soft cat food or ham or turkey, since these cats are total vacuum cleaners), but Fred’s going out to the house on Tuesday and will call me if they’re there, so I can go out with supplies to keep them pampered and fed and safe until we can get them to the vet. I hope they don’t freak out too much at being brought inside, but every time we open the door and they’re hanging out on the porch, they seem very interested in coming inside. I hope we don’t traumatize them. * * *

Signs of Fall in the back yard.

While pulling down poison ivy on Saturday, I displaced this mother Pillbug and her baby.

Cotton plants growing by the side of the road.

Momma Kitty thinks you are acting very suspiciously and if you make any sudden moves, she WILL kick your butt.

All four kittens.

All that’s left of the squirrel Momma Kitty hunted down and killed. ****************************************

More pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: I believe that might be a personal record, right there. 2002: My poor baby. 2001: it’s MY journal and I’ll exaggerate if I want to. 2000: No entry. 1999: Why we don’t need another cat, by Fred]]>

10/20/06

Jane: Please inform Paco that he is woefully misinformed as to what exactly constitutes a Crazy Cat Lady. You are a mere amateur in the art of Crazy Cat Ladyness.

I will happily send you cats to assist you in better achieving your Crazy Cat Lady goals. xoxo, Robyn * * * I hope you people who wanted to know what happens when Maddy’s sleeping on the printer and I need to print something out are happy, because you’re all going to hell. This is what happens:

YouTube link. Poor Maddy. She hasn’t been back up on the printer since. She’s still feisty as ever, though. Last night I thought the calm, unflappable Tommy was going to tear her in half because she would NOT leave him alone. Poor cats, tortured by a feisty little monster. * * * Questions answered, comments responded to! Oh, I have a confession to make. My little naughty black kitten that I adopted from under a shed this summer? Sure, I named him Jekyll, but do I call him that? No. No, I do not. He’s become a….Booger. So sorry, didn’t mean to swipe Mr. Boogers’ name (and don’t tell him or he’ll disapprove of me!) but he is such a little pest! I have conferred with Mister Boogers, who informs me that he considers it an honor and an homage that you are calling your boogery kitten Booger. In fact, he thinks that all boogery cats should be known as Booger from here on out. * * * I think the “adopt another cat and you can never foster again” rule should be specific to the residence. Therefore Maddy can stay (and she was the first And3son feline family member to see the Smallville house) and you can start the fostering anew. No? Sounds good to me – we’ll see what Fred has to say about it, though! * * * Robyn, How do you think all the cats will handle the move? Do you have hiders or explorers? The last time we moved – into this house – they were all hiders. Some hid for longer than others, and in fact I’m not sure how long it was before Spot came out of hiding, but they definitely all hid. And Mr. Fancypants was a huge pain in the ass, as documented here. I expect that they’ll all be freaked out when we move into the Smallville house, but I predict that Miz Poo and Tommy will be the first ones out to explore. Tommy because he’s a nosy little bastard, and Miz Poo because she’d rather drape herself across a person and sleep than sleep huddled up under the bed with the other cats. * * * Seeing her sharp little claws makes me wonder – are they still too small for Soft Paws? I tried the small size on my 5 month old kitten about a month ago, and they didn’t work so well. Yeah, her claws are still way too small for SoftPaws. I did clip them last night, though. I don’t remember how old Sugarbutt and Tommy were when we started SoftPaws-ing them, but we were actually using the kitten-sized caps until about three months ago (and they are NOT kitten-sized cats anymore!). When we moved up to the next size, it worked out well for us, because the caps are fitting better and staying on longer. Five months may still be a little too small; I’d try again in a few months if I were you. * * * Hmmm… I believe the Biscuit Law is is why I bought a can of pillsbury biscuits tonight. It’s definitely catching on. Biscuits for everyone!!! * * * Apropos of absolutely nothing, but I saw these and immediately thought of you. Would these go over well as gifts or ornaments for your family? I actually have several kits from Subversive CrossStitch, just haven’t gotten around to actually doing them. I ADORE that site and think y’all should go buy lots of stuff from there! * * * Robyn, I’ve just finished catching up with your adventures! I read you through the LiveJournal RSS feed, and it’s been down since Sept 23 — anyone else reporting a problem? Nope, this is the first I’ve heard of it. I did uninstall a plug-in the other day because someone was having problems getting to the site, maybe that fixed it. Is it still an issue? * * * What does the Spud do while you and Fred are working your asses off at the Smallville house? Seems only fitting she should be helping out. Unless she’s studying or working elsewhere… The poor spud is so busy right now that to expect her to help us work on the house would probably be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Between school and work and trying to eke out something of a social life, she’s busy all the time, poor kid. * * * Hey Robyn, I’ve been a long time reader and don’t comment much but I had the funniest dream about you last night for some reason. (I know, I sound like a stalker!) You posted a video of you singing with some country singer I think it might have been with the woman who sang Coal Miner’s Daughter (the name escapes me). You were invited to sing at the country music awards and you were in this god awful blue dress and up there singing your heart out. I thought it was so funny and thought you’d get a kick out of it. Maybe that will be you in another life! Loretta Lynn! How cool would it be to sing with Loretta Lynn? I’m afraid the horror of hearing my singing voice might kill her, though. Heh. Did you dream that I could sing? This is not, by the way, the first time someone’s told me that they’ve had a dream about me. I dream about journallers and bloggers from time to time, myself! * * * Soda!!!!! Are you drinking Diet Coke (AKA Nectar of the Gods) again, Robyn?!?!?!?!! (Regarding this picture.) No, that was Fred’s soda Maddy was sniffing at! * * * When did you start referring to yourself as “Momma” to Maddie? Did I miss something? She IS staying, correct? I always refer to myself as “Momma” when it comes to the foster kittens. It’s easier to say than “Your foster mother who loves you but is still planning on kicking you out into the cold the instant you’re old enough.” And no, she’s not staying. * * * Do the cats (at the Smallville house) ever go home? Apparently they do – to our surprise, we didn’t see them at all on Wednesday, and when we ran out there for a few minutes yesterday they weren’t anywhere to be seen. Maybe their owners decided to take them off to be fixed! * * * How on earth did the two of you get the chain around the big, bad trunk? We wrapped it around the trunk, and Fred fastened the chain together with some chain-fastener clip thingies he bought at Lowe’s. * * * So, do I foresee a creepy story coming out of you or Fred about that sinister fog filled back forty? Hmmm? Not from me, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear Fred talking about story ideas about it! * * * It’s killing me to see all that perfectly good firewood being regulated to the BURN PILE OUT BACK. Why don’t you live next door so I could have it for my fireplace?!?!??? and You should chop that wood up and save it so that next year you can build a fire and burn hotdogs! Well, the only reason we dragged the tree back to the burn pile (next to the burn pile, I should say) was to get it off the driveway and out of the way. One of these days Fred’s going to get back there with his chainsaw and cut up the tree for firewood. Don’t worry – we’re already starting our wood pile! * * * I think you should get those cats fixed. The neighbors probably won’t even notice they are missing, especially if you just take one in at a time.(Have they come searching for them since they took up residence in your garage?) If Fred asks them and they say no, then what? You won’t be able to take them in at all without looking like the horrible meddling neighbors. If you just take them in now and by some crazy chance the neighbors do notice and confront you, then you can play stupid…”We are so sorry, we didn’t know they were your cats. We thought they were strays.” I bet they won’t really care anyway, but they may be embarrassed or get defensive depending on what Fred says and how he says it. That’s kind of what I was thinking – but it’s too late, because Fred asked the guy next door who the cats belong to, so if they suddenly go missing for a few days and they ask the neighbor if he’s seen them, chances are good he’d mention that we were asking about them. We should have just snatched them up and taken them to the vet, in my opinion! * * * Is it true that if you have a cat in the house the mice won’t be as bad a problem? I can tell you that the mice I’ve seen in our house here in the ‘burbs aren’t mice who came in on their own. They’re mice our stupid-ass cats brought in to play with (though we haven’t seen any mice in quite a while)(and now that I said that, we’ll be inundated with them). I will be interested to see what happens when they stumble upon a mouse in the Smallville house. * * * Ditto on the nasty beetle thing — and don’t smash them, either. The scent is a pheremone marker that attracts more beetles, and it also leaves an oily stain on your walls. You might consider doing a round of Killz primer on the rooms you have yet to paint. And if you get to the attic — hoo boy. They’re probably having some real “rock n roll” up there. Thanks, you guys, for letting me know that I shouldn’t use the vacuum cleaner to vacuum up the beetles. I would have been majorly pissed off if my Dyson got a beetle stank on it that wouldn’t go away! I guess I’ll get out the broom and dustpan and get rid of them the old-fashioned way. We have been priming the walls with Killz, so maybe that’ll help. * * * ..but there are always these. But they don’t come in my size! They’re only available in size 7! Wahhhhh! * * * When we were done watching TV last night, Fred started singing to Mister Boogers, which he does a lot of. As he turned the TV off and I headed for the computer room to check my email one last time, Fred kept singing. A moment later what he’d been singing entered my consciousness, and I paused. “Did you just say ‘Put Anna Nicole in your butt’?” I said, staring at him. He laughed. “No, I said ‘Put a nickle in your butt!'” Oh, right. ‘Cause that makes way more sense. (He was singing this, for the record.) * * * Speaking of songs, yesterday marks the first time in my entire life that I realized Bonnie Tyler was singing “We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks” in Total Eclipse of the Heart. My entire life, I thought it was “We’re living in a polar keg and giving off sparks”, though it never occurred to me to wonder why living in a keg and giving off sparks would be a problem. The beer would just put out those sparks, right? * * * It was a tiring day to be a Maddy yesterday, apparently.

“Bob?”

“Hey, BOB! I hear you’re the go-to guy when it comes to the ‘nip!”

“I say, BOB! Where ARE you, man?” All of today’s uploaded pictures (and there are some good ones!) are here. * * * Previously 2005: Your fascinating tidbit for the day. 2004: More Myrtle Beach. 2003: It’s got to be early-onset Alzheimer’s, y’all. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: I think back on the shit I pulled as a senior in high school, and I’m flat-out amazed that I managed to graduate. 1999: Just an all-around relaxing day.]]>

10/19/06

I tried to warn you about the black lipstick (Maddie). That’s how the Goth Kitty Look starts. Then it’s the piercings and tattoos. Did you notice in today’s pics of Maddy that she has her ear and tongue pierced? I looked closer, and by god she’s right! I want to know who snuck her out of the house to be pierced and painted (note the black nails). I suspect the evil Mister Boogers is the culprit.

* * * I was supposed to answer these questions in Nance‘s comment section, but I needed something to lengthen this entry out a little, so here you go. It’s the Nebshit meme! 1. Do you kiss your pets? Of course! Not on the lips, though (do cats have lips? Judging by Miz Poo’s past lip problems, I’m going to say “yes”.), usually on top of the head, or (in Sugarbutt’s case) behind their ears. 2. Do you read the sites that bash bloggers/journalers? I wander through them from time to time, though I can barely keep up with the journals and blogs on my links list; I don’t usually go look at everything they link to. 3. If you could adopt an impoverished child without any red-tape and finances were not an issue, would you do it? I’d love to say yes, but honestly? No. I don’t want any more kids, impoverished or not. I’m happy to wait ’til the grandkids come along. 4. How much cash do you have on you right this minute? $30. 5. Have you ever gone to the bathroom in the woods? Yes and I did NOT enjoy it. Unlike everyone else who just loooooves to do it, I’m sure! * * * So we went out to the Smallville house yesterday after Fred got off work. He set about to spraying all the mud off his tractor (which he hadn’t done the night before because we didn’t have a hose in Smallville, a situation which has since been remedied) while I wandered around the yard hanging up bird feeders, checking out ant piles and the pond (which has more water in it than we’ve ever seen before!) and finally went into the house to change the lightbulbs in the closets and straighten up the kitchen. He finally came inside and we went upstairs to start painting, which is when we realized we’d been invaded by little beetles that might or might not be ladybugs or asian beetles. They were coming through the window in the upstairs bathroom in the tens (I know! Horrifying!), and some were crawling around looking for sex or drugs or possibly a little of the rock ‘n roll IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN*, and others were laying dead on the bathroom floor.

If I’d had the vacuum cleaner at the house, I would have sucked the fuckers right up, but since I didn’t, I didn’t do a damn thing except plan to take the vacuum cleaner with me to the house on Friday. I don’t go out of my way to kill bugs, but if I feel they’re invading my territory (like the huge-ass spider who booked it across the front porch the other night, so I stepped on the fucker) or being a general pain in the ass (see above regarding beetles), I have no qualms about killing them. I know. I’m going to hell. At least I know I’ll have good company! So I set to work painting the door I’d painted the other night, because it clearly needed another coat of paint, since the primer was peeking through. It didn’t take me as long to paint it this time, and when I was done I told Fred we needed to move it so I could paint another door, only he decided that I should paint the guest bedroom walls around the doors and trim. I was worried about doing real painting, because I’m not much of a painter and I paint really slow, but although it took me most of the evening, I did an okay job. I got around the doorways while Fred painted the ceiling in several rooms and maybe did some wall painting as well, I’m not sure. At least I had thought to bring my iPod with me, so I listened to Keith and the Girl the entire time, so it wasn’t too painful. Boring (the painting part, that is), but not painful. *It’s okay. I don’t even know what I mean. * * * Tuesday night when I had to haul some branches to the back forty, I had to slog through a bit of water, which got my sneakers all wet, which got my socks all wet, which got my feet all wet. “Tomorrow I’m going and buying waterproof boots!” I told Fred indignantly. No one should have to slog about with wet feet – it’s 2006, not 1986! We aren’t living in the dark ages! Dry, warm feet for everyone! I demand it! REVOLUTION! So during my many errands yesterday morning I found myself in Target and I took myself to the shoe section, and I bought myself some boots that are waterproof and should keep my feet nice and toasty warm.

And they’re black and rubber and SEXY to boot. (Hahaha! “To boot”! I slay me!) Unfortunately they didn’t have the boots I REALLY wanted in my size, but I’ll try to learn to live with the pain.

* * *

Of course. Where else is there to sleep in this horrid, uncomfortable house where there are three warm and cozy cat beds to every single cat? Where else but on the printer?

Does this look comfortable to you?

Three cats in the space of five feet and none of them are hissing, growling, biting, or smacking at each other. It’s a ~~Christmas~~ Halloween miracle! Today’s uploaded pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: I WILL BE THE VICTOR, DAMNIT! 2004: More Myrtle Beach. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: I’ve turned into a crazy cat lady for real, haven’t I? 2000: The spud turns 12 next week, can you believe it? 1999: I’ve been out of sorts all day.]]>