Category: Life

Because I don’t have a whole lot to say today, here are some links I’ve recently fallen in love with.

1. Crunchy Betty. I happened across her blog from another blog – I truly don’t know which – and the first post I read of hers was this one, regarding the Marie Claire “OMG FAT PEOPLE EWWWW!” brouhaha. (You can read more about the Marie Claire bullshit here at Big Fat Deal, or Google it up, I know a lot of blogs have covered it in one form or another. My opinion is that it’s a desperate cry for attention on Marie Claire’s part (“Write something controversial! Sales are slipping!”) and it doesn’t make me sad that I canceled my subscription to MC a few years ago because aside from being a completely obvious bid for attention, the article is poorly written WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT HOW TERRIBLY WRITTEN THE GODDAMN THING IS, and I’m surely not missing anything from not reading the magazine).

I liked what I read, so I looked around on her blog, and holy crap. I LOVE THIS WOMAN. She tells you how to cover up any, uh, bathroom smells (TRY IT I SWEAR TO GOD IT REALLY WORKS!), she’s doing the No ‘Poo thing (I am seriously tempted in trying this, but I am skeered), she makes her own deodorant, she tested homemade glass cleaner to find the best recipe, tells you how to make your own hand sanitizer, and tells you how to make the best homemade bathroom cleaner! I’d tell you more, but why would I? Get your ass over there and see this fabulous woman for yourself! Did I mention that I love her?

2. Zenni Optical. I don’t know how I stumbled across this site, because it’s been in my bookmarks list for months. MONTHS, I say. You should see my bookmarks list, it is absolutely ridiculous. I come across a site I might want to check out again in the future, and so I bookmark it, and do I ever go back and look at it again? I do not – I just do a fresh Google search. Then every few months I clear out my bookmarks list, and I think “Why the fuck did I bookmark this?” three thousand times. Anyway. So I’ve been wearing these ugly, unflattering glasses for about three years now, because (a) they cost $150+ and (b) I didn’t want to deal with getting another pair. So when I saw that the glasses at Zenni Optical are dirt cheap, I figured I’d give it a try, if they didn’t work for me, I’d only be out a little money, and I’d tell y’all that they suck.

They don’t suck. I ordered the glasses – these, to be exact – and they fit really well, they’re comfortable, and what’s best is that they aren’t scratched, and I can see better out of them than I could out of my old glasses. The bad part – which is not the fault of Zenni Optical but rather my inability to figure out what glasses would look good on me – is that they are horribly unflattering. But I don’t care because did I mention they were dirt cheap, they fit well, they work great, and besides, I wear contacts all day long and only wear glasses for about two hours right before bed.

Note, though, that if you’re blind like me (my prescription is something ridiculous like -6.50) that there’s an additional charge – I think it was $19.95 extra. Also, you’ll need someone to help you figure out your pupillary distance (a painless maneuver that involves you looking straight ahead and someone else holding up a ruler to figure out how far apart your pupils are and then mockingly calling you ““Marty Feldman”).

3. Recently on Facebook, Lori mentioned Pioneer Woman’s Crash Hot Potatoes and said they were amazing. Naturally, I had to give them a try, so on Friday I bought potatoes. And then on Saturday I bought chives to put on them. I intended to make them to go with Sunday dinner. Come dinnertime, I looked at the recipe and realized I needed to boil them first. Since it was practically dinnertime, I put them off for another night. Last night, I boiled them, I mashed them (with a glass, since apparently I don’t have a potato masher. What the hell?!), and then I could not find my fucking chives ANYWHERE. I still don’t know where the fuck they are. Did you take my chives? Since I didn’t have any other fresh herbs on hand, I just brushed them with olive oil and sprinkled them with salt and pepper. I baked them for 20 minutes, sprinkled shredded parmesan (not the powdered stuff) on top, and put ’em back in the oven ’til the cheese melted.

HOLY GOD were they good. And really, once you have your shit together, SUPER easy to make. We’re having them again tonight (well, leftovers from last night, really, which I will warm in the oven) and I think they’ve become an instant favorite in our house.

4. 20 Awesomely Untranslatable Words from around the World. I was looking for the correct spelling of l’appel du vide (French, which translates to “The call of the void”), which is the instinctive urge to jump from high places. This is NOT an instinctive urge that I myself have ever felt, but Fred’s mentioned it to me before and KATG listeners, correct me if I’m wrong – hasn’t Keith mentioned it also? I don’t feel the urge to jump from high places; rather, a little voice in the back of my head says “Wouldn’t it suck if you went stumbling over the side of that mountain (or wherever) right now?” I guess rather than the instinctive urge to jump, I feel the instinctive fear of high places, or maybe the instinctive knowledge that life’s a bitch and if anyone suddenly went windmilling over the side of the mountain (or wherever), it’d be ME.

My favorite from that list: Tingo: “the act of taking objects one desires from the house of a friend by gradually borrowing all of them.” I find it highly amusing that there needs to be a word for such a thing.

5. I grabbed this picture off someone’s Facebook post (I don’t remember who, or I’d credit them) and sent it to Fred, saying “This is you” because it made me laugh and laugh. That’s Fred – he just wants to be left the hell alone, damnit!

6. I sent Fred the link to this video and said “This would your reaction if I told you we were going to Disneyland!” What can I say? He’s a homebody.

Now tell me what links/ pictures/ videos you‘ve fallen in love with lately.

These two, I’m telling you – wherever I am, there they are. If I’m in front of the computer, they’re in the bed to my right. If I’m in the kitchen, they’re sitting at my feet howling about how they’re pretty sure they’re starving to death. If I’m on the couch watching TV, they’re sitting on me, sound asleep. They are just the sweetest little monkeys!

Starsky does not care for the vacuum cleaner.

Note that first Hutch sinks his front paws into my foot to push himself along the floor, then he pushes his back claws into my foot to propel himself along further, and THEN he grabs for the camera. Why actually get UP and walk over to the camera when you can sink your sharp little claws into my foot?

The Reacher creature, in the back yard. All the Bookworms love to run over and flop at my feet.

And asleep atop the canning cabinet in the dining room.

Sleepin’ Sugarbutt. About 50% of the time he’s flopped out on his back in Fred’s computer chair. 25% of the time he’s in the back yard watching for squirrels. The rest of the time is spent eating, using the litter box, smacking at kittens who get too close, and making sure there’s not another place to sleep that’s more comfortable than on his back in Fred’s chair.

Previously
2009: We actually left the house after dark on Saturday AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW THE EARTH REMAINED ON ITS AXIS.
2008: No entry.
2007: Stupid bossy car.
2006: “Damn pansy-ass city folk.”
2005: as a customer and a HUMAN, I outrank the computer, and I’d like a little RESPECT, thank you.
2004: All this cleaning is making me lightheaded.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Little things make me happy.
1999: Guest entry by Fred.

MAN do I love turning back the clocks an hour in the Fall. I know it gets dark earlier, but it also gets light earlier. My body seems pretty determined to stay my ass in bed ’til it’s starting to get light out, so that means I’ll be up a little after 6 for the next few weeks instead of a little after 7.

Also we’ve only got, what, another six weeks of the days getting shorter before the process reverses itself?

We had our first sub-freezing night Friday night, so Friday afternoon I went out and picked the tomato plants clean. I got a bucket and a half of green tomatoes – mostly cherry tomatoes. I ended up chopping the non-cherries tomatoes and freezing them so that we can have green tomato chili at some point this winter. I put several of the larger green tomatoes aside to ripen, pickled some of the cherry tomatoes, and left the rest of the cherry tomatoes in hopes that they’ll ripen so Fred can eat them on his lunchtime salad for a few weeks longer.

Except for the carrots and radishes in the raised beds, the gardening appears to be pretty much over for this season. I have a million new ideas for next year, and I’ve written them down.

Hopefully when it’s time to start planting stuff again in four or five months, I’ll remember where I wrote everything down!

I’ve been making the hell out of chicken stock lately. For the first batch, I followed Ina’s recipe to the letter. I went a little more loose with the next batch, and by the third batch, I mostly tossed in everything I thought would work (celery, onion, carrots, rosemary, salt, peppercorns) and called it good enough. I’ve got one more batch to go, and then I’ll have used up all the chicken bones I’ve been stockpiling, I’ll have a cabinet full of canned stock, and there’ll be room in the freezer to collect more chicken bones.

In the mornings, I listen to Bob and Sheri while I’m taking my shower, blow-drying my hair, brushing my teeth, all the usual thrilling stuff.

I was about to step into the shower, and Bob announced that the world’s most famous sidekick would be on in 20 minutes. I paused for a moment and thought “Huh. I thought Ed McMahon was dead?” and turned up the volume a little so I could hear the name of the guest, since I couldn’t for the life of me think of another famous sidekick.

Some time later, while I was still in the shower, Bob started talking about the upcoming guest again.

“The world’s most famous sidekick,” he said. “John Edward will be here in about fifteen minutes…”

Wow, I thought. John Edwards is the sidekick? Then the big cheese must be someone really famous! Who the hell…. ? Is Elizabeth Edwards going to be on, and they’re being funny calling John her “sidekick”…?

And then my brain kicked in and I realized that he hadn’t been saying “sidekick.”

He’d been saying “psychic” John Edward.

Duh.

(And yes, Ed McMahon died in June of 2009.)

You know, I’m just never allowed to have anything nice ’round here. Someone sent us something a few weeks ago, and after I unpacked the box, I put the box (with newspaper in it) on the floor of the kitchen, intending to eventually take it out to the garage on the way to the recycling center. Of course a cat immediately jumped into the box, so OF COURSE I left the box there so that the cats could sleep in it.

All was well for about a week, and then one morning I walked into the kitchen to find that one (or more) cats had pulled some of the newspaper out of the box. I put it back in the box, and it stayed there for a few more days, and then every morning I’d walk into the kitchen and a few sheets of newspaper would be on the floor. I’d put it back, find it pulled back out the next morning, and so on.

Then one evening, the cats got together and had a newspaper-shredding party.

It’s a Bustie in a box!

Corbie, having shredded some newspaper, takes a bath break.

Starsky and Hutch watch Buster (who’s in that box – you can see the end of his tail sticking out.)

Corbie (on top of the box) and Jake (next to the box) watch Starsky kick some newspaper around. Rhyme and Hutch (at the bottom of the picture) join in on the shredding, while Buster stays in the box and minds his own business.

Newspaper: shredded. Kitchen: a mess. Kittes: happy.

When the cats abandoned their shredding project, I tossed all the newspaper into the box and took it out to the garage so that next time I go to the recycling center, it’ll be ready to go.

TAKE THAT, KITTIES!

Stinkerbelle would like you to know that she had nothing to do with the shredding. She’s a good girl.

Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: That is not “getting” someone a car, that is BULLYING SOMEONE INTO DRIVING THE KIND OF CAR YOU WANT THEM TO DRIVE.
2006: Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats.
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.

Have you met Rhyme?

Gorgeous, stripey, lovebug Rhyme?

Rhyme with a ‘tude.

Rhyme is an incredibly sweet, good-natured boy. When Fred sits in the living room in the evening, Rhyme snuggles up next to him and just purrs. He’s friendly – no shrinking violet, our Rhyme. A friend stopped by one evening last week, and Rhyme caaaaasually strolled through the dining room, taking a look at the newcomer. He got closer to the stranger each time he passed through the room until he finally walked over and flopped onto his back, presenting his belly in case this man he’d never seen before might be overcome with the need to rub some kitty belly. He’s a giver, that Rhyme.

He’s a people lover and he’s a cat lover. He gets along with all the cats in our house (though he’s less interested in the kittens than he is in our adult cats), and can usually be found curled up next to another cat. Even Spanky, who has no use for other cats, puts up with him.

At bedtime, Rhyme climbs into bed between us and rolls around on his back. When I lay in bed and read, he drapes himself over my leg and purrs. When I turn the light off and turn onto my side, he stretches along the length of my leg and purrs me to sleep.

He’s a lovah – but he’s a playah, too. There’s nothing he loves as much as a good game of chase.

(He doesn’t even necessarily have to be the chaser – he’s just as happy to be the chasee!)

Sweet, friendly, gorgeous, with a touch of sass. How can you possibly resist?

Rhyme, as you know, needs a forever home. He’s fine here for now, but he really needs to be in a home where he’s not just one in a crowd of 16 (or 18, I guess, if you count Starsky and Hutch). If you or someone you know needs an awesome cat like Rhyme (who is almost 9 months old), please contact Challenger’s House, say “I want that kitteh!” and get started on the adoption process! What with Thanksgiving coming, Rhyme is watching lots of cooking shows. I hear he makes the finest cranberry sauce this side of the Mississippi. True story! (Okay, false story. Lack of opposable thumbs makes wielding that whisk just a little too difficult. But he’s working on it!)

Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: Poet! Knowit!
2007: Newt was a total teeny baby this time last year – he was clearly NOT fully grown at that point, as this picture can attest.
2006: Maddy’s new Mommy and Daddy came a-visitin’ yesterday.
2005: Huh. I was wondering why Tom Cullen was snooping around in the stamp drawer
2004: The spud and I stood patiently by while the man chattered at the school employees for several minutes and then my head exploded, scattering brain matter everywhere.
2003: “Jessica Lynch!” I said. “Isn’t she the only POW we’ve ever had in all of history?”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green.

Attention, viewers of Sister Wives – there was a Sister Wives special on Sunday night. I didn’t know about it and my DVR didn’t catch it, Amy just happened to mention it on Facebook, and I ran downstairs to see that I’d missed the first 45 minutes of it. Luckily, it was on again a few hours later, so I set it up to tape. It’s on again Wednesday night, and so are all the shows. I actually missed show #6 (where Christine stormed off the set), so I’ll be taping that to watch, even though I think I’ve seen it all through the clips they showed on Oprah and the ones they showed on the special.

I watched the special yesterday, and it was interesting, though I certainly didn’t learn anything new. The whole idea of polygamy still boggles my mind (did I mention I don’t like to share?), and all the women seem likable enough (Christine seems a bit high maintenance), though I do wonder why on earth they took up with Kody, who I think wants to come across as an affable dork but I believe has a bit of the asshole about him.

Here’s a note to all men with receding hairlines – growing your hair long and poufing it out does not, you may be amazed to hear, disguise your receding hairline. Cut your damn hair short and embrace your receding hairline, goddamnit.

Sister Wives has been signed for a second season, and you know I’ll be there with bells on.

Not only was Sunday Halloween, it was also our 12th anniversary. To be honest, if sweet reader Loretta hadn’t sent me an e-card Saturday night, I probably would have gotten to about mid-day Sunday before I remembered. We don’t, I guess you can tell, make a big deal about it most years. We went up to Tennessee to the Dog Days Flea Market, came home, hung around, had meatloaf and mashed potatoes for Sunday dinner, I did laundry, Fred took a nap on the couch, and we snuggled with kittens.

A pretty good way to spend our anniversary, if you ask me.

I suggested to Fred that we start saving up to go somewhere special for our 15th anniversary. The last time I started saving to go somewhere for our anniversary – our 10th – I had a nice amount socked away, and then we bought this house. We ended up spending all of that savings I’d put away on renovating the house, and I certainly don’t regret that. This house ended up being a good 10th anniversary gift to ourselves!

I’d love to go to Scotland or Australia for our 15th anniversary, but I think I’d be lucky to get Fred out of the state, let alone the country. Maybe I could talk him into a trip to the Northwest. Or Canada! (Yeah, it’s another country, but it’s not THAT far.)

I do love my Canoodlians.

Saturday, we went to Big Lots to see if they had It (the TV miniseries from 20 years ago) on DVD (Fred’s rereading the book, and has become obsessed with seeing the miniseries again), and while we were there, I wandered over to look at the Halloween section. All the Halloween stuff was half price, so I bought a few things. Then when we got home, I tossed the Halloween stuff on the counter and ignored it, as is my way.

Then late Sunday, I set up a fancy studio and began snapping pictures. Please do not be jealous of my fancy photo studio.

Apparently the best way to get a picture of a kitten wearing a hat is to wait ’til the kitten falls asleep and place the hat on his head so gently that he doesn’t realize it’s there. I’ll be keeping that in mind for next year.

You know who I hardly ever get pictures of, and who is the sweetest, friendliest, most adoptable, should-be-snatched-up-in-10-seconds-flat cat in (temporary) residence? Rhyme, that’s who. I’m going to remedy that this week. In fact, maybe I can get enough awesome pictures of his awesome self for tomorrow’s post, and maybe someone will be mindlessly surfing the internet and stumble across the post about him, fall instantly in love, and set about adopting him.

Wouldn’t that be cool?

Loony Jake seems none the worse for wear after being shoved into that chicken costume. Over at Flickr, Christy called him “El Pollo Loco”, and I laughed out loud.

Previously
2009: “I heard they was servin’ chocolate pudding at the Senior Center. Outta my WAY!”
2008: No entry.
2007: How’sabout you win us $100 billion in the lottery and we’ll negotiate the terms after that, foolio!
2006: No entry.
2005: He’s a class act, that Vincent Gallo
2004: “Squee!” it reiterated. “Squee! Squee! Squee!”
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Is it just me, or do you get pissed off when you’re the victim of unexpected pain?
2000: No entry.
1999: Damn that Halloween candy!

Lately, something kind of weird has been going on. We’ll be in the back yard, me and 348 cats, and Kara will walk up to Reacher, and they’ll briefly touch noses.

And then Reacher will draw back and hiss a little bit.

Then Kara will stare at Reacher for a moment, then turn and walk away.

This is weird because, up until now, if one of the cats or kittens hissed at Kara, she’d hiss back, maybe growl, and then smack then upside the head, whereupon they would turn around and run away. But she never hisses or growls at Reacher, just looks at him and then walks away.

So my question: is she getting mellow in her old age (she’s 3 1/2, after all!), or does she have a crush on Reacher? And if she has a crush, does the age difference (he’s almost 9 months old!) make her a cougar, or not?

He IS awfully pretty.

Yesterday, we trimmed Starsky and Hutch’s claws. That makes it a lot easier to deal with them, especially when I’m deboning chicken in the kitchen and they’re pretty sure they want some, so try to climb up my leg when I’m wearing shorts.

Sugarbutt’s the baby, sometimes. (That’s Fred holding Sugarbutt, by the way, not me!)

Previously
2009: Also making me look OLD: the fact that I am OLD.
2008: Sulking and doing nothing is greatly helped by a sweet little litter of fluffy kittens, if you were curious.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: I’m sorry, but “Sell yourself to me” is Interviewer-speak for “I’m too lazy to come up with a real question, so try to answer this stupid-ass question I read on a bad interview webpage somewhere or perhaps even pulled directly from my ass.”
2004: I cannot stand this song. I cannot stand this video. I am filled with extreme hatred every time I happen across either the song or the video.
2003: We went to see Miss Saigon on Sunday.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: The man drove two hours to spend one hour with his grandchild and then drove two hours back. How cool is that?
1999: May I say that the child gets an UNGODLY amount of presents.