Life – Page 55 – Bitchypoo

4/9/10 – Friday

Do you guys put newspaper in the carriers? Seems like it would make cleanup easier. Unless it’s projectile. You take such good care of the cats and George and Gracie, it doesn’t matter how many you have. It’s heartbreaking how many are in the shelters. No, I usually have a small blanket or towel in … Continue reading “4/9/10 – Friday”

No, I usually have a small blanket or towel in the carriers. Newspaper would make cleanup easier, but it doesn’t sound all that comfy to me, and god forbid any cat should be less than completely comfortable for longer than thirty seconds. Cleanup with a towel/ blanket isn’t so bad – I remove as much of the solids as I can, and toss ’em in the washer.

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Ah Ha, so I am not the only one getting my Bitchypoo blocked. At least I know there are other people trying to access the same ‘porn’ as me!

I told Fred that I should buy a new domain and mirror my entries on a weekly (or monthly) basis there, so that y’all can keep up with your Bitchypoo goodness from work instead of having to wait ’til you get home. We were watching something one evening last week (I don’t remember what), and I decided that RazzleDazzle.com would be an excellent domain – but it’s already been taken. Fred suggested SpazzleDazzle.com (heh), and I was reading an old entry and thought that FloopleTheDoop.com would be a good one, or even just Floople.com.

But it’s a moot point – having another domain and having to clean up the language before copying entries over there is both more money than I want to spend right now, and more work than I want to do. I’ll keep it in mind for the future after we’ve won the lottery and I’m a wealthy lady of leisure.

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Rhyme has the darkest M of them all.

He really does – he looks like someone took a Sharpie and wrote an “M” on his forehead!

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Living in Alabama, you have to know the rebel flag as well… or is that just in Tennessee?

I know the Confederate (rebel) flag, but I don’t really consider it a flag in the way that I consider state and country flags to be flags, if that makes any sense.

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Look at this cat.

I don’t know if your guys can master that, but I’m thinking that they have a shot at out-gaping the amazed cat in one of the other videos.

I’ve had the occasional cat (especially Sugarbutt) stand up straight, but not as long as that cat can!

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Last night my fiance told me that monkeys aren’t mammals… um, then what the hell are they? 😉

Wikipedia says Considered generalist mammals, primates exhibit a wide range of characteristics. Sounds like they’re mammals to me! 🙂

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Saw this on the news this morning and thought of Maura!

Doctors Perform C-Section and Find No Baby
Two North Carolina doctors have been reprimanded for performing a caesarian on a woman, only to discover she wasn’t pregnant at all.

Doctors opened up the woman and found a nonpregnant uterus.
The incident — a rare case of pseudocyesis or a false or hysterical pregnancy — happened at the Cape Fear Medical Center in Fayetteville, N.C.

The woman reportedly appeared at the hospital with her husband asking for a C-section. A resident in charge made the pregnancy diagnosis and doctors agreed to surgery after trying to induce labor for two days.

I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh my ASS off, thinking that doctors tried to induce labor for two days before attempting a c-section.

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Hey, I do believe there’s a photo of your fosters in an article for Challenger’s House in todays Huntsville Times. I don’t get the print version, but found the article at the online news site al.com

Here’s the URL: http://blog.al.com/breaking/2010/04/challengers_house_hopes_to_rai.html

Hope they raise a lot of funds for the kittehs!

Yep, that’s the picture I provided for the story about the True Blood 6! I’m still trying to talk Fred into attending the benefit, but I’m not sure how much luck I’m having!

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I desperately want to know what the other Robyn’s reaction was to your reply email. I can only imagine that she was either nonplussed about it, thinking, huh, I don’t remember sending THAT email or that she was deeply offended and upset with herself for being so lazy! Or perhaps she has convinced herself that she’s got another personality! Imagine coming to THAT realization! Oh to have been a fly on the wall..

and

Hilarious! You should also send the other Robyn motivational stuff like “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and people like me!” 😀

and

You have GOT to start sending Robyn Anderson notes from herself! Like, “Are you sure you’re making the right decision with that thing you’re thinking about?” or “How about that dream last night! Do we have a weird subconcious or what?” Or, if you’re in an earlier time zone than her, send her notes from her future self! “You’ll regret it if you go where you’re thinking of going for lunch!”

and

I agree with Heidi–send that “other” Robyn regular emails “advising” her. Try “We’re going to have a super-dee-duper day today!” hehehe

and

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone sending themselves e-mails on what to do that day! I’ve made lists of stuff to do and then lost the list, but mailing it to myself? Not so much….

and

Emailing oneself. Hmmm. I’ve send myself reminders on my phone …

I’ve been known to email myself reminders from time to time, but more often, I send a text to my email address (usually when I’ve filled up the gas tank and want to remember to enter the correct amount into Quicken. Yes, I could get a receipt, but those tend to get lost in my purse).

I would email the other Robyn helpful emails of advice (“Don’t wear that shirt again, it just is NOT flattering. I’m only telling you ’cause I love you! Call me!”), but I think I’ve decided she doesn’t have a sense of humor, because I still haven’t heard anything back, and HMPH TO HER. Also, it’s her work email, and I don’t want her to get in trouble with her bosses because I’m sending her cat pictures at work or something. Heh.

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Hilarious! Hysterical pregnancy even?

Well, she DID try to tell me she wasn’t pregnant, y’know. I guess next time a cat tells me she’s just full-figured NOT pregnant, I’ll listen!

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My mom has a set of foster kittens (and their mama) and she needs to name them. There are 6 of them and all but one are stripey (like the Bookworms). How on earth do you tell your kittens apart? I tried looking for some distinctive mark (on their head, on their tummies, on their back) but they all look too similar!

Well, the Bookworms are different enough from each other that I don’t have a problem telling them apart. There are different ways to mark kittens so you can tell the difference – with the Cookies, I put a tiny dab of brightly colored nail polish on the back of their ears (which is how they ended up with the nicknames Blue and Orange). Another way to mark them is to put a dab of nail polish on the tip of one of their claws. Also, I know that somewhere out there are temporary collars that you can put on them – they’re made of some sort of tough paper and stick to themselves so you can make them whatever size works for you – but I don’t for the life of me remember where I saw them. Anyone out there know?

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I used to have a dog, a female. (And she was spayed.) Then I got a cat, a kitten who was really too young to have left her mother but I didn’t know that at the time. After a day or two of getting to know each other, the kitten, seeking comfort, began nursing at the dog. Cue false pregnancy in the dog.

Two years later – two YEARS later!! – the swollen belly had gone away, but the dog was still walking around with milk-filled teats, and the cat was still nursing whenever she wanted. She’d walk up to the dog, yowl, perhaps pop the dog on the nose a time or two, and the dog would sigh and go find a comfortable spot to flop over. Damnedest thing.

Elayne, you crack me UP!

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Robyn, I have never before joined in the chorus when your readers start predicting that you’re going to keep this or that foster, but this time…it’s different. How in the HELL are you going to be able to let those adorable babies go? I swear, if I didn’t have two dogs, and my husband wouldn’t immediately leave me, I’d take ALL of them!

I’ll tell you what, I was able to give up this one here:

(That’s Mikey of the Wonkas, if you don’t recognize him)

and if I can give up Mikey, I can give up anyone! Seriously, we STILL talk about Mike from time to time, and just the fact that Fred even remembers who Mike is is something – he rarely remembers the names of any of our fosters, once they go off to their new homes.

So yeah, I do love the hell out of the Bookworms, and they’re awfully sweet little brats, and I know it’ll be hard to give them up and I’ll miss them when they’re gone, but we’re not keeping them. We’re not!

(I know you guys never believe me when I say that!)

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George and Gracie are gorgeous. Some of the pics of them remind me of a polar bear. Anyone else see that?

Oh, definitely!

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What happened to the chart of which cats interact with each other? I was looking forward to that all week! ha :p

Here it is (click on it to see the bigger version). It’s nothing fancy, but it gives you the idea, I think. “No” means they don’t generally interact with each other, and “LOVE”, “LIKE” and “HATE” are pretty self-explanatory. If there’s anything unclear, feel free to ask!

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Gorgeous Corbett.

Rhyme in the sun.

::thlurrrrp::

Rhyme in the sun.

Corbett in my lap, fighting off Reacher.

This pretty well defines this litter. Rhyme, Reacher, and Bolitar looking at something (my hand, I think), and Corbett fighting with his foot. Corbett marches to the beat of his own drummer.

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Maxi in the cat bed on Fred’s desk. She sure is pretty.

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Previously
2009: So, the great freedom-letting has begun!
2008: Now if I can just convince him to get going on that closet for the corner of the computer room….
2007: “What the fuck did you DO?” I accused Sugarbutt, who looked up at me with the most innocent face in existence.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Stupid Steven Cojocaru.
2003: I think I speak for most Alabamans in this area when I say “Uh, what the FUCK?!”
2002: sights from my walk
2001: I am SO PISSED OFF.
2000: It’s not stealing if I give them credit, right? Uh… right?

4/8/10 – Thursday

I was surfing around the net yesterday, and I read that you can actually plant the top of a pineapple, and eventually it’ll take root and grow and after like two years, you might end up with a whole new pineapple. This fascinated and intrigued me, and I of course had to immediately tell Fred … Continue reading “4/8/10 – Thursday”

This fascinated and intrigued me, and I of course had to immediately tell Fred about it.

“Hey!” I said. “Did you KNOW that if you plant the top of a pineapple, it will take root and grow? We should grow our own pineapples!”

Fred considered. “So, it takes root and grows into a pineapple tree?”

I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, so I turned around and gave him a look.

“A pineapple tree,” I said.

“It grows into a pineapple tree, you’re saying, and we could go out and pick our own pineapples?”

I gave him another look.

“Pineapples… do not GROW ON TREES,” I said.

“Oh. They don’t?”

“Um. No.”

“So you plant a pineapple top, and you get one pineapple from it and it takes a couple of years?” he said.

“Yes.”

“That seems like a lot of effort and waiting for two people who aren’t THAT into pineapple.”

Can’t argue with that.

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We were driving somewhere last weekend, and AS HE ALWAYS DOES, Fred was weaving all over the road because he was so busy looking at the houses we were passing, or waving his hands in the air to make a super-important point.

“IT WOULD BE NICE IF YOU WERE ABLE TO KEEP THE CAR ON THE ROAD,” I said. I swear to you, I’m 99% sure that my cause of death will be due to Fred driving off the road into a tree (or ditch) because he’s NOT PAYING ATTENTION, driving directly into a car stopped at a red light because he loves to approach red lights at roughly 95 miles per hour, or my having a heart a attack at the way he drives.

(He said the other day, in response to my complaint about his driving, “I have never gotten into an accident!”, because I got into an accident a few years ago in the Lowe’s parking lot (and you think I tell you everything), and I said “Yeah? Well I have never lost my job!” HA HA HA ZING. I guess it’s hard to get fired when your lazy ass hasn’t had a job in ten years, though.)

“I’m ON the road,” he said, annoyed with me for questioning his driving skills.

“Then WHY are we driving down the goddamn rumble strip?” I asked.

“Is that what those are called?” he said. “Really, they’re called rumble strips?”

“Yes,” I said.

“How on earth do you know that?” he asked.

I shrugged. “How on earth do you NOT?”

So of course the question here is, how many of y’all knew that they’re called rumble strips? That’s common knowledge, right?

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We were driving through Research Park in Huntsville last weekend, writing down the names of companies so that Fred could go online and see if they were hiring (this was before he realized that Wikipedia has a complete list of all the companies).

Fred pulled into the parking lot of a large company to make sure there weren’t other companies in the same building as the large company. I noticed that, alongside the United States flag, was a flag that was unfamiliar to me. I decided that it must be the flag of the country the company originated in. It wasn’t familiar to me, but aside from the US flag, the Canadian flag, and the Japanese flag, I can’t really identify flags from other countries.

This was definitely not a Canadian or Japanese flag.

I pondered the flag for a few moments, and then pointed it out to Fred. “What country is that flag from, do you know?” I asked. I thought maybe it was the German flag. Or perhaps Switzerland?

(Oh, I guess I do know Great Britain’s flag too, now that I think about it. Duh.)

Fred gave me a look.

“That,” he said carefully, probably restraining himself from out-and-out calling me a great big fucking idiot. “That is the Alabama state flag.”

“Oh.”

Fred snickered.

“Shut up.”

Fred snickered.

“Kiss my ass.”

Fred snickered.

How embarrassing.

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“WHAT?”

What you really really need to see (I have GOT to start carrying the camera around with me at all times, I guess) is poor Maura’s big ol’ shaved belly. I was hanging out with her yesterday afternoon, and she was so relaxed and happy that she rolled onto her back and just stayed there, belly exposed, her four paws sticking straight up. It was seriously cute.

She is the MOST laid-back cat I’ve ever seen. She’s always pleased to see me when I walk into the room, and she loves to lay up against me when I sit on the floor. When the hanging-out time is over, she’s mildly puzzled, like “Oh, you have to go? Why would you need to be anywhere else? This room has it all, do you see the toys and the chair and the cat tree? You really have to go? Okay then, bye.” She doesn’t rush the door, she looks curiously out into the hallway at Jake and Elwood, who would dearly love to get into the room with her, and then she goes off to play or sleep or whatever is next in her hectic schedule.

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What a baleful look I’m getting here!

“HELLO HI I HAZ A COMPLAINT AND MY COMPLAINT IS THAT I HAVE EYE BOOGERS IN THE CORNERS OF MY EYES AND THEY MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A STREET URCHIN THAT NO ONE CARES FOR BECAUSE IF SOMEONE LOVED ME, THEY’D CLEAN THE CORNERS OF MY EYES OUT BUT OBVIOUSLY NO ONE LOVES ME AND THAT IS MY COMPLAINT THAT I HAZ.”

Reacher’s eyes are changing color, and right now, they pretty much match his fur. Very neat.

Again with the baleful look.

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Newt, Tommy, and Jake, hanging out on the patio and taking in some sunshine.

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Previously
2009: Y’all are some grumpy motherfuckers, aren’t you?
2008: Detective Boogerton, the grizzled, cranky veteran detective who has seen it all, is disgruntled that his day off has been interrupted.
2007: No entry.
2006: FYI.
2005: Meme.
2004: Lime green would work.
2003: I called Fred at one point and said “Maybe it’s SARS!”
2002: Well, you can just bite my coconut-scented, soft, smooth, butt.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

4/7/10 – Wednesday (kittehs!)

Sissy McGee – one of our hens who regularly escapes the chicken yard to free roam the property ’til it gets close to dark, and then she returns to the chicken yard ’cause she’s no dummy – took it upon herself to jump the fence into the back yard yesterday. Jake, who had never seen … Continue reading “4/7/10 – Wednesday (kittehs!)”

Sissy McGee – one of our hens who regularly escapes the chicken yard to free roam the property ’til it gets close to dark, and then she returns to the chicken yard ’cause she’s no dummy – took it upon herself to jump the fence into the back yard yesterday. Jake, who had never seen a chicken from that close up, was beside himself. He stalked her around the back yard as she explored and scratched and ate bugs.

“What the -?”

He never did attack – just followed her around and watched her. I guess he might be a lunatic, but he’s not CRAZY. She would have kicked his butt.

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“NOM NOM NOM, there is NOTHING as tasty as a sock-covered foot! Unless it’s a slipper-covered foot!”

“NO! That are MY foot for chomping on! You go away!”

“Hiiii! I’m Reacher, and I’ll be in charge of eating your foot today!”

Don’t be fooled by the sweet face. Corbett also enjoys chomping on feet.

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“So I told her and told her I wasn’t pregnant, and she just kept saying ‘Ha, ha, RIGHT you’re not pregnant. Give me those babies!’ and then she took me to the vet, and the VET told her I wasn’t pregnant, and apparently the VET knows more about my pregnancy or lack thereof than I do, and she was all ‘J’accuse!’, but seriously, what did I need to do, spell it out in poop or something? I TRIED TO TELL HER! And now the halcyon days of eating kitten food and sleeping off 63 snacks a day are OVER, and I ask you – is that fair? Am I to be punished for NOT being a harlot?”

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Over the weekend, I spilled half a container of flour on the kitchen floor. Elwood ran right over and started EATING the flour, as if it were the finest cat treat I could have given him. I shooed him away, but not before I got a picture of him. See the coat of flour on his chin? Crazy boy.

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Previously
2009: Random things that make me twitch.
2008: She turned and glared her “FUCK YOU” glare at me, and went along her way.
2007: No entry.
2006: You WISH you were me.
2005: Off to Gatlinburg.
2004: Our palates are too immature, I suppose.
2003: Now I know why, when the camera and sound guy were setting up and I chirped “Oh, is this the camera that’s going to make me look like Ashley Judd?”, everyone laughed so hard.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Then he and the spud went swimming yesterday, since the pool’s up to a sultry 66.

4/6/10 – Tuesday

Thanks, you guys, for your advice and positive thoughts in our direction (for the skimmers, Fred is looking for a job). Still no calls yet, but it’s early days yet, right? Right! * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * Remember how I’ve mentioned before that … Continue reading “4/6/10 – Tuesday”

Thanks, you guys, for your advice and positive thoughts in our direction (for the skimmers, Fred is looking for a job). Still no calls yet, but it’s early days yet, right? Right!

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Remember how I’ve mentioned before that I have a Gmail email address that I don’t really use, that it’s got my first and last name in it, and I occasionally get emails from the college mates of a Robyn Anderson in Canada, discussing assignments, and sometimes I get emails from the mother of a Robyn Anderson in Texas, that I’ve gotten emails from the frequent flyer program of the Robyn Anderson in Texas, and work emails – once I got a spreadsheet from a coworker of hers?

And that I always respond to these emails with “You have the wrong email address. Please tell STUPID Robyn Anderson that she’s so STUPID she doesn’t know her own goddamn email address”?

(Okay, maybe I just say “You have the wrong email address” with a polite smiley. But the other stuff is totally implied.)

I logged into that email address over the weekend, and found that she had sent HERSELF an email with a list of tasks.

Now not only do I know where she works, I know the boring-ass tasks she tells herself that she has to finish by the end of the day.

I responded back with “Don’t wanna. How come I have to do all the work?” and a smiley, but have received no response as of yet.

Fred thought I should have responded with “Seriously. You don’t know YOUR OWN FUCKING EMAIL ADDRESS?”

I’m far too polite for that, though. I prefer to disparage her behind her back.

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By the way, I was so annoyed by Firefox’s constant fucking updates, and the way the last time it updated my system was screwed up for an entire afternoon, that I finally gave up and downloaded Google Chrome to give it a try.

I’ve gotta say, I like it so far. There are a few things that annoy me – like, I’m not seeing an “undo” button, and I don’t know how to use the menu to print, so I have to remember to hit control-P (and the print menu that comes up won’t let me just print the highlighted selection for some reason, and that annoys the bejeebers out of me), or control-F for “find”, but I like the bookmarks toolbar at the top of the page. Also, Chrome loads in about a tenth of the time, and hasn’t forced me to update in the four days I’ve been using it, so I’m giving it a cautious two thumbs up.

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The water fountain is an endless source of amazement. They’ve all gone swimming in it (accidentally) at one point or another.

I weighed them yesterday. Corbett (above) is the runt, at 1 1/2 pounds. The other three all weigh 1 pound 12 ounces!

Bellied up to the water bowls.

Bolitar, lookin’ for a snuggle.

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Hey!

Remember yesterday when I was all GET A LOAD OF THAT BELLEH:

And y’all were all HOLY COW WHEN’S SHE GONNA DROP THOSE BABIES?!

And I was all DO YOU SEE THIS THING?! (Or at least I meant to – I forgot to post the picture, actually.)

And y’all were all HOLY MOLY YOU WEREN’T KIDDING, THAT IS ONE PREGNANT CAT! (Or you would have been had I posted it.)

Well, yesterday morning I decided that the fact that Maura had had herself a dirty behind for the last few days, and acted as though it hurt when I cleaned her off, might mean that she could have impacted anal glands. So I called the vet’s office and made an appointment and I loaded her up into the carrier, and headed for the vet.

She was completely silent all the way to the vet’s office (I am serious when I tell you that this is one laid-back cat), except for a few times when she turned around in circles trying to get comfortable, and I thought WOULDN’T IT BE FUNNY IF SHE WENT INTO LABOR RIGHT NOW, OH THAT WOULD BE HIGH-LARIOUS!

We got to the vet’s office, and I turned her over and sat down in the waiting room. The shelter manager came in while I was sitting there, and she went back to see what was going on. She asked a few questions, and then suggested I just come back so I could answer any questions the vet had. I went back, and as I walked back, the vet was feeling Maura’s abdomen.

The vet couldn’t feel any kittens. And as far along as Maura was supposed to be, she should have been able to feel kittens. She was pretty concerned that Maura might have developed Pyometra (basically, when the uterus fills up with pus), and suggested that she go ahead and spay Maura.

I agreed, and left Maura there.

All day long, I worried about Maura, of course, because I am nothing if not a worrywart. Also, I was a little sad that there would be no wee baby kittens. When the vet’s office was about to close, I picked up the phone and called to see how she was doing.

“Oh, Doc was about to call the shelter,” said Belinda, who’d answered the phone.

I steeled myself for bad news.

Turns out that our Maura, big ol’ pregnant Maura? Huge, ready to pop Maura? Maura with the great big pregnant momma cat appetite?

FAKING IT THE ENTIRE TIME.

NOT pregnant. NOT FOR ONE MOMENT PREGNANT.

NOT suffering from Pyometra. PERFECTLY FINE.

She TOTALLY played us.

She’s not pregnant. She’s just big-boned.

“Look. I never SAID I was pregnant. You just assumed. I went along with it for your sake, because I am sweet and kind and didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

I’m going to go pick her up from the vet’s office in a bit. Then I’m going to bring her home and girlfriend, who’s been living the life of Riley with the eating of the kitten food and the two snacks a day of canned food, is going on a DIET.

In a few weeks, after she’s healed from her spaying and up to date on her vaccinations, she’ll be headed off to the adoption center.

The party is over, sweet girl!

“I don’t believe I care for the sound of THAT.”

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“I told you she was fakin’ it. When you gonna trust the Sheriff Mama to know what she’s talking about?”

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Previously
2009: (The smell of boiling chicken livers: gag me.)
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Now, I’m sure I’d rather be skinny and bald than fat and hairified, but what I’d MUCH prefer to be is skinny and hairified, thanks.
2005: I think that a more accurate description would be “covered the annoyance of itching by making your skin feel as though you’re being set on fire.”
2004: Meme.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Fred’s such a bastard.

4/5/10 – Monday

Hellooooooo. Did y’all have a nice Easter? We didn’t do much, had roast pork, deviled eggs, green beans, and I made Jordan Rolls. Dinner was kind of screwy, because the roast was done long before I expected, so it had to sit under a foil hat while I put the rolls together. I’ll admit, I … Continue reading “4/5/10 – Monday”

Hellooooooo.

Did y’all have a nice Easter? We didn’t do much, had roast pork, deviled eggs, green beans, and I made Jordan Rolls. Dinner was kind of screwy, because the roast was done long before I expected, so it had to sit under a foil hat while I put the rolls together. I’ll admit, I was a little leery of the rolls because the dough seemed a bit soft to me when I broke the dough up into rolls, but they baked up nicely (though I think they could have used just a couple more minutes in the oven to brown up completely; I was afraid of overcooking them) and were very tasty. I’ll definitely make them again, though I might make them a tad smaller next time. Or actually, I think I’ll try Method #2 next time.

We’ll be eating roast and deviled eggs and rolls for at least another couple of meals. The good thing about only two people to cook for: leftovers. These days, it seems I’m only having to cook a couple of times a week.

I’m glad the rolls turned out, because I was starting to wonder if I’d lost my baking skillz. Nance posted the other day about all the damn fine food she’d made the day before, and I thought “Oooh, soft pretzel bites! Those look GOOD.” So on Friday I made a batch of soft pretzel bites, and I can tell you right now that they were NOT worth the effort. It must have taken me three hours to get the goddamn things made, because I made half of them with sea salt and the other half with cinnamon sugar, and the making of the dough and the boiling of the dough and UGH. There was a window of time about two hours long when they had cooled and were pretty good, but after that they just got tough.

AND I HAD FORGOTTEN THAT I DON’T REALLY MUCH CARE FOR PRETZELS ANYWAY. Duh.

Then on Saturday I made a Lemon Truffle Cake. Fred and I both love lemon-flavored stuff, so when I saw the recipe I knew I had to make it. The fucking cake took forever to make, and it was okay, but it was another instance where it just was not worth the damn effort. (Which didn’t stop us from eating half of it between Saturday and Sunday, before we gave the rest to the chickens.) (Also, I learned a new skill – I’d never tempered an egg before, and I did it successfully, so score one for new skillz!)

Sunday morning, I made muffins – Paula Deen’s Surprise Muffins – and I forgot the damn baking soda, so they were hockey pucks (which were also fed to the chickens).

But the rolls turned out, so hopefully my Baking Streak of Suckiness is at an end!

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Tell me this, fellow reality TV viewers – did or did not a season of Survivor take place in the Seychelles? Because when the teams on The Amazing Race were there, I knew how to pronounce it correctly, and there’s no WAY I would have figured that out on my own. I’ve Googled around, but can’t find a damn thing.

Anyone?

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The weather has been so lovely over the past week, with just half a day of rain, that it looks like we may actually be able to plant the damn garden before July. Fred went and got seeds this morning. Over the weekend, he mowed the lawn (mostly – the side lawn in front of the garage is still far too wet for mowing), the daffodils have all bloomed, the trees are starting to leaf out.

By god, I think spring might actually be here!

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I wasn’t going to write about this, but honestly I see no reason not to – it’s the ONLY DAMN THING going on around here right now.

Fred’s company and their largest customer have parted ways – and as a result, Fred is looking for a job. Anyone in the Huntsville/ North Alabama area looking for a Software Engineer strong in C and C++?

Yes, Fred has been all over Monster, Dice, and Craigslist, he’s applied for one million positions in the last few days. At this point, we’re sitting and waiting for the phone to ring and it’s driving us (me) nuts. He’s literally been looking for five days (including the weekend), so I know the hunt is just beginning. But still – COME ON, PHONE. RING.

Where’s the employment love, Huntsville? Dayum.

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“I do not appreciate this. At ALL. This is completely undignified. STOP IT.”

(No babies yet!)

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Those Bookworms sure do love their food.

“Hi. Hi! Hi. Just hangin’ out. Snugglin’ in the lady’s lap. I think if I charm her enough, she’ll give me some more of that canned food. Hasn’t worked yet, but I think it will. Seriously, have you ever seen anything cuter than ME?”

“Um. Is that POOP on her leg? Ugh, humans are SO gross!” Yeah, and I wonder where that poop CAME from, brat!

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Spanky! In! A box!

“Hey, Spanky.”
“Hey, Sugs.”
“How’s the box going?”
“Working well for me, thanks.”

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Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: (Nevermind that Mister Boogers’ way of protecting me would be to go hide in the closet.)
2006: “Hard liquor is the first stop on the train to Gaysville.”
2005: I had no idea that leaving the top of the washstand bare meant that you didn’t appreciate the washstand.
2004: (Yeah, yeah, cry you a river. I know. Bite me.)
2003: No entry.
2002: Apparently Fancypants’ evil twin (except that I’m sure Fancypants is actually the evil one) now lives in our neighborhood.
2001: No entry.
2000: I guess there’ll be no physical fisticuffs for me to go break up.

4/2/10 – Friday

As promised – more George and Gracie pics than you can handle. Can you HANDLE the G&G? Let’s see! I wanted to get a shot of them sitting side by side, but they were WAY too excited about the fact that we were both out there to sit calmly and let me shoot some pictures. … Continue reading “4/2/10 – Friday”

As promised – more George and Gracie pics than you can handle.

Can you HANDLE the G&G? Let’s see!

I wanted to get a shot of them sitting side by side, but they were WAY too excited about the fact that we were both out there to sit calmly and let me shoot some pictures.

Galumphing over for some love.

Gracie, out standing in her field.

Gracie in the front, and George way in the back.

There’s a freakin’ stream, basically, flowing through the middle of the back forty. Fred and George and I were on the other side of the stream, and Fred called to Gracie. She thought about it, headed for the stream…

LEAP!

“Aw, shucks, ’tweren’t nothin’.”

Hello, gorgeous.

Did I mention, gorgeous?

Gracie, keeping an eye on the horses on the next property over. Note all the discarded fur on the ground at her feet. Fred had just brushed them both.

::thlurrrp::

Clearly miserable.

Not excited at all.

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“I HAZ A COMPLAINT HE IS BITING ME MAKE HIM STOOOOOOOOOP!”

“Ah, yeah. Right there. That’s the spot!” (Oy, the kitten lips. Kill me!)

Keeping an eye on his brudders.

“Psst! Okay, Mr. Mousie, I’m going to run over and howl at her and distract her by thinking I’m all hungry, YOU run to freedom and then tonight come back and break me out, okay?”

“COMPLAINTS. I HAZ SOME.” Debbie mentioned last week that in a picture of Rhyme, it looks like the color in his eyes is cut in half down the middle of his iris’. I see light blue on the inside and dark blue on the outside of his eyes, it might be the lighting or something but it looks pretty neat! I think you might be right, Debbie – there’s definitely a line down the center of his eye, and it does look like the color’s slightly different on each side. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before in a kitten. That’s VERY neat!

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Miz Poo, snoozing in the sun.

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Previously
2009: “THTOP calling her a bad mother! She is a good mother! I luff her!”
2008: It smelled like evil.
2007: I think you can imagine our happiness.
2006: No entry.
2005: Always/ Sometimes/ Never
2004: Erin should be more concerned with the fact that he’s been killing people and burying them in the back yard and less with his lying.
2003: I believe there’s a seat in the ass-singe section with my name on it.
2002: Sucks to be her.
2001: “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he said.
2000: Don’t come back here looking for no entry, my friends.

4/1/10 – Thursday

New month, new banner! This was created by the wonderful Christine, who’s done most of my banners lately. It’s perfectly adorable and spring-y, isn’t it? Thanks, Christine!!! * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * =^..^= * Random dogs and other stuff. The guy who lives about quarter … Continue reading “4/1/10 – Thursday”

New month, new banner! This was created by the wonderful Christine, who’s done most of my banners lately. It’s perfectly adorable and spring-y, isn’t it?

Thanks, Christine!!!

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Random dogs and other stuff.

The guy who lives about quarter of a mile down the road from us has these two dogs. Sometimes the dogs are contained in a little shelter, but more often they’re out running around. They like to come down to our property for some reason and sniff around, even though George and Gracie lose their MINDS when they see these dogs coming. They do that big, deep, scary Great Pyr bark, and these dogs always haul ass when G&G bark at them. And yet, they keep coming back.

I’ve tried to get them to come to me (to be honest, if I could get my hands on them, I’d at the very least drag them off to be neutered), but the instant they see a human, they run off.

I think this one’s awfully cute.

There’s another dog, a big white one, that belongs to the people who live five houses or so down the road. Apparently he and the other two are great friends. Check out the frolic action going on.

I know, you want to see George and Gracie pics. Just hold on – I’ve got more George and Gracie pics than you can imagine, and I’ll post ’em tomorrow!

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After we walked along the river in Nearville last weekend, we walked up through the historic district and admired all the big old houses.

Can you believe I only took two pictures of houses? I can’t! The picture of that white one does not do it justice at all. It was ADORABLE.

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Back before we got Maura, when all we knew was that we were getting a pregnant cat, we thought she might have her kittens immediately (HA HA HA). I know that cats like dark places to give birth, and we don’t have blinds or shades on the windows in the foster room, so I came up with a temporary solution. That’s right, I taped PAPER to the windows. (Could have been worse, right? Could have been newspaper or foil.)

It’s working for now, but Kathy visited last week, and told me that they sell temporary shades at Walmart and Target that would probably work better. I guess she wasn’t impressed by my klassy solution. Hee. I’ll be looking for those temporary shades as soon as I can get my butt to Walmart!

Nothing to see here. Move along.

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“What?”

What is it about a belly rub that makes some cats begin to vigorously groom themselves?

Stripes!

Lap o’ kittens.

“I! HAZ! A! COMPLAINT!”

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In or out? Out or in? They can’t seem to decide, but they don’t mind making me stand there and hold the screen door for them while they ponder.

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Previously
2009: Fred giggled helplessly. Which somehow did not help.
2008: However, I don’t subscribe to the “only pick it up if it’s heads up!” theory of thought.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: There’s a saying that men make plans and god laughs.
2004: No entry.
2003: Won’t be happening in my lifetime, thanks.
2002: No entry.
2001: I get the weirdest freakin’ referrals to my site.
2000: No entry.

3/31/10 – Wednesday

Photo entries all this week in an effort to clear off my hard drive. Of course, I keep taking pictures, so that’s not helping at all. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The … Continue reading “3/31/10 – Wednesday”

Photo entries all this week in an effort to clear off my hard drive. Of course, I keep taking pictures, so that’s not helping at all.

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The Problem with Warm & Sunny Days.

The problem with warm and sunny days

is that the cats hate when it’s warm and sunny. Hate it.

…loathe…

…despise….

…detest…

…abhor…

…scorn…

I mean, come on.

Seriously.

Have you ever seen such miserable cats in your entire life?

No one should have to live like this.

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“There are no babies here. Move along. Wait. Bring me a snack and THEN move along.”

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A rare shot of all four. Corbett’s refusing to look at the camera, though. Brat.

::thlurrrp::

He may be little, but Corbett is old enough to enjoy a good fart joke. He’s weak with laughter. WEAK, I tell you!

Sweet pink kitten belly? Check.
Kitten toes? Present and accounted for.
Kitten wondering how he got in this particular position? Got it.
Second kitten clearly thinking “Just what in tarnation is going ON back there?!” All set.
World domination to commence in 3…2…1…

Reacher notes that that talon is a leeeeettle too close to his eye. Luckily, he’s got cat-like reflexes (ha!) and was able to close that eye before any eyeball-poking could happen.

Oy, the stripes!

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Previously
2009: (reCOOPerating, HA HA!)
2008: Shea Butters would be an excellent stripper name.
2007: No entry.
2006: It was so friggin’ cute I made Fred listen to it, too.
2005: I have my finger on the pulse of pop culture, apparently.
2004: A day in the life.
2003: What makes me crazy.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Okay, enough of the wallowing.

3/30/10 – Tuesday

As a reminder, I’m doing photo entries all this week because I LOVE YOU. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The Chickens of Crooked Acres. This rooster is part Americauna – which I … Continue reading “3/30/10 – Tuesday”

As a reminder, I’m doing photo entries all this week because I LOVE YOU.

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The Chickens of Crooked Acres.

This rooster is part Americauna – which I only know because Fred told me so, and which Fred knows because we’ve suddenly had a proliferation of blue eggs in the big coop. The rooster apparently determines whether the eggs are blue or not. Or something. I wasn’t really listening.

Brahma rooster (in the back) does not care for Americauna rooster. Americauna rooster is casually sauntering away from (the much larger) Brahma rooster very very fast. But he is not running, because he is NOT SCARED OF NO BRAHMA.

Teeny tiny Silkie hen. I tried to get a picture of her next to a Brahma so you could see how very tiny she actually is, but she was uncooperative.

“What?”

You’ve met Sassy McGee (the pain in the ass who sleeps in the big chicken yard and spends her days free-roaming around the property. At least she stays on our property and doesn’t wander onto the neighbor’s lawn, I’ll say that for her.). This is Sissy McGee, our second free-roaming hen. It’s entirely possible that she’s one of Sassy’s chickens – it’s hard to know. She likes to scratch around under the bird feeders and eat up any seed left behind by the wild birds.

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YOU BETTER WORK IT.

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I’m sorry, how could you possibly resist the striped belly o’ Corbett?

Reacher’s a kitten on the move. The instant he sees me (or becomes aware that I’ve entered the room), he races over to howl at me. This makes it somewhat difficult to get a shot of all four kittens.

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Reacher, minding his own business, happens upon a crime scene.

“Kind sir!” cries Corbett, reaching out in desperation. “Can’t you please help me?”

“Well, goodness me, no,” says Reacher. “I am but an innocent passer-by who prefers not to get involved.”
“I do not know WHO you think you’re fooling,” says Corbett. “You’re a former military police officer who wanders the country with nothing but a toothbrush and the clothes on your back, but you couldn’t mind your own business if your life depended on it. Now get over here and save me!”

“By god,” says Reacher. “I do believe you are correct! I do have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, don’t I? Now pardon me while I take care of this scoundrel and get involved in a conspiracy that does not involve me in any way, shape or form. I will be the only one with the steely-eyed determined intelligence to identify and solve the problem. Solving this problem will undoubtedly require gunfire and perhaps explosions, and certainly I will need to make sweet love to the first hapless – yet incredibly insightful and brilliant – woman who stumbles across my path. Also, have I mentioned that despite the fact that it’s rare for two clocks to ever agree on the exact current time to the minute, somehow I will always know the precise time of day, no matter how many time zones I’ve crossed, how much torture I’ve been through, how much whiskey I’ve slammed down, and how concerned I am over the location of my toothbrush?”
Rhyme: “Huh?”

(Please note: the above might mean nothing to you if you’ve never read any of Lee Child’s Reacher novels.)

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Tommy and Sugarbutt really believe in claiming their space. And everyone else’s space too, while they’re at it.

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Previously
2009: IT WASN’T WATER AT ALL.
2008: No entry.
2007: Love you! Mean it!
2006: I am absolutely the last person on Earth you want in the vicinity if there’s an emergency.
2005: Questions answered.
2004: I am absolutely stunned that… I frankly couldn’t give less of a shit.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: I have to wonder, what the hell do all you skinny people do?
2000: Yes, this is a lame, short entry, but since y’all love me, you’ll be back. Right?

3/29/10 – Monday

All this week, in honor of the fact that I have a million and seventy-three pictures sitting on my hard drive waiting to be shared with you lucky people, I am going to do all-picture entries. You’re welcome! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “3/29/10 – Monday”

All this week, in honor of the fact that I have a million and seventy-three pictures sitting on my hard drive waiting to be shared with you lucky people, I am going to do all-picture entries.

You’re welcome!

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Signs of spring – and pics from around Crooked Acres and beyond.

We were going to Nearville yesterday to walk along the river, and as we drove down the highway, I saw a coyote sitting by a large patch of undergrowth, calmly grooming him/herself. “That – there – coyote!” I sputtered at Fred. “Just sitting there! Grooming himself!” Fred turned the car around, and we slowly drove by the spot where I’d seen the coyote. Of course, the instant the poor thing saw us slowwwwly driving by, he jumped up and fled.

Hawk over the chicken yard.

Cardinal, wondering if I’m ever going to fill up the damn bird feeders.

MOCK!

Ever vigilant.

“What YOU lookin’ at, lady?”

The river we walked along yesterday. We’ve kayaked here extensively in the past. We haven’t been kayaking in a few years, but we’re definitely going to be doing it this year.

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“Really? You’re sure you want to try touching the belly again? Are you unaware that I have razor-sharp claws and I KNOW HOW TO USE THEM?”

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I had no idea when I bought this carrier that it was going to be such a huge amount of fun for the babies. Best toy EVER, apparently!

“That’s right, I done it, copper. I done it, and I’d do it again. I was loopy on catnip, no judge in the world is going to convict me. They’ll send me to rehab, I’ll come out clean and UNREPENTANT. So get out those cuffs and slap ’em on, I AIN’T SCARED.”

“What’s going on over THERE?”

“I wants to climb Mt. Carrier, but I needs a nap first…”

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“::fume:: They think I don’t KNOW there’s a pea under there. They think I don’t KNOW they don’t believe that I am of royal descent. When I am back in my castle, I will order all their deaths, and I will laugh and laugh and laaaaaaaaugh. Testing the patience of King Spanky. PEASANTS.”

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Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: (“Why, Robyn, you only sounded like a PARTIAL idiot! I was amazed!”)
2006: “What IS that? Some kind of GODDAMN NICKNAME? You fucking heartless freak? You want me to kick your ass to Seattle, or you want to confess right now, jackass?”
2005: A day in the life.
2004: Naturally, the mental note got lost in the mental clutter, so I forgot she was in there, and only remembered when it had been a few hours and I hadn’t seen her.
2003: No entry.
2002: Don’t look at me like that.
2001: Of COURSE he falls in love with her inner beauty, because EVERYONE knows that fat women don’t have any of that OUTER beauty, for crying out loud.
2000: I can only hope he’ll flash me some butt cleavage.