Bitchypoo

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

Glenda mentioned in my comments yesterday that she’d tried – and really liked The Pioneer Woman’s Restaurant Style Salsa, which reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to mention to y’all.

Back in the late part of Summer/ early Fall, I made and canned a big batch of this salsa, right here. And yes, I used canned tomatoes and not fresh tomatoes, because despite the 6,000 tomato plants I planted in the garden this summer, I never ended up with enough tomatoes to use to make salsa.

I made salsa using that recipe, using canned tomatoes, and when everything but the hot peppers had been added, I divided the salsa into two, and I made a batch of “hot” using, I think, habanero peppers. And in the other half I may have added one or two jalapenos. Then I labeled the habanero batch as “hot” and the jalapeno batch as “mild” and I canned them.

And Fred pronounced it the best salsa I’ve ever made. He said it’s so good that even though the mild stuff is, well, mild and although he usually turns his nose up at mild stuff, he’s been eating the mild salsa because he says even the mild version is awesome as hell.

So in case you’re looking for an easy and tasty salsa to make and can, thereyago.

Yesterday, I glanced in my Search Meter to see what people had been searching on recently, and found that there had been several recent searches where people were clearly looking for the link where I got the cat hammocks.

They’re technically called “Ham-Micks”, and you can get ’em here.

They’re a big hit with our cats – we’ve got three of them, one in the computer room, one in the front room, and one in my bedroom, and they all get a lot of use. Cats of all sizes (from Patty Peppers to Elwood) use and love them. We highly recommend the Ham-Micks!

Other searches were for “cat pee cleaner” – you’re probably looking for Nose Offense or you’re looking for the make-it-yourself stuff, which is 16 oz. hydrogen peroxide, 1 T baking soda, 1 tsp dishwashing liquid, mix it up, soak the offending item with the mixture, and let it dry.

“Cat fountain” – we use and like the Cat Mate, but I am looking at this Cat-It fountain because it’s so inexpensive and has really good reviews and I can never be satisfied with what I already have (and to be honest, the cats are kind of ignoring the Cat Mate lately for some reason.)

“Outside Momma theme song”. Well, if I MUST share it!

That video has been viewed about 600 times, and probably 575 of those were mine. Cracks me up EVERY TIME.

“Diabetus.” Yes, Kara strongly resembles Wilford Brimley. The older she gets, the more she looks like him.

The Sons are coming around, slowly but surely. They’re less flinchy, and now when I walk into the room and sit down on the floor, they come over and sit near me and look up at me. They even let me pet them, though they’re not sure whether they like it or not. Tig’s the holdout and prefers to watch from a distance, but I can feel his resolve cracking when he sees Clay flop over onto his back for a belly rub.

Considering coming over for some petting.

The little tailless behinds are just the cutest things ever.

Gorgeous.

“Hey! Lady! You come here and pet me!”

Jax in the sun. (Gorgeous.)

Tig, keeping an eye on me from afar.

Gorgeous. I probably hadn’t mentioned that.

Charlie Peppers will snuggle with anyone or anything. In a pinch, some socks make a perfectly fine body pillow for the boy.

Don’t you just love his sweet little face?

Elwood the grump.

Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy.

You don’t see a lot of cats with double chins.

Ellie-bellz.

Previously
2010: Somewhere, Roger Ebert is covering his eyes in horror.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: The vet tech said that Stinkerbelle was a beautiful cat, and I could see Fred’s ego swell to twice its size.
2006: I think we’re making progress.
2005: It’s hard to resist a chunky little orange kitty.
2004: (I’m not that much of an asshole. But it sure is fun to imagine!)
2003: Yet another meme.
2002: But I’ll say this – if your kitten is suffering from anal leakage, y’all, TAKE IT TO THE VET.
2001: No entry.
2000: “Why does it smell lemony fresh down here?”
1999: Martha Stewart would take one look at my tree and sob loudly, I’m sure.

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

In case you missed it over the weekend, on Saturday I introduced the Sons and then Fred and I got profane in the back forty. On Sunday, Gracie showed what an awesome watchpuppy she is, and I shared more pics of the new guys.

I did some Christmas decorating over the weekend – I’ll take pictures for Thursday’s entry – and I’m caught up on addressing and signing holiday postcards, and now that we’re less than two weeks from Christmas, I have to say that I am definitely in the holiday spirit!

I left the house to do my regular Sunday morning errands – dropping stuff off at the recycling center, checking the PO Box, returning the movie we rented Friday night – and since I was out and it was fairly early on a Sunday morning, I stopped by Walmart. I had a short list of arts ‘n crafts-type supplies that I needed to pick up, and I wanted to look at a few things in the electronics section and so on. There weren’t many people there when I arrived at 7:30, but by the time I left an hour later, it was pretty busy.

I ended up getting a $29 color printer/ scanner. I know I’m likely to kick myself in the ass for buying a cheap piece o’ crap, but every now and then I really wish I had a color printer for one reason or another – such as to print out a picture – so hopefully this printer will work out well for that. I’d like to tell you that I’ve tried it and it works well. HOWEVER, the fucking thing didn’t come with a USB cable (I guess I know why it was only $29), so I don’t know yet how well it works. We’ll see, I guess.

Fred colored my hair for me – I really am just not capable of doing it myself, I always miss great huge chunks of the back of my hair – and it looks pretty good. A little redder than I’d like, but I can live with it.

It was a nice weekend, but DAYUM it’s turned cold lately. Thank god I have a small heater in the foster room or the poor kittens would freeze to death.

You know, I’ve read all over the place how fantastically wonderful Pioneer Woman’s cinnamon rolls are, so finally I made them myself. It was a fucking PRODUCTION, between needing to buy whole milk and then having to scald it, and needing to have maple flavoring. Publix doesn’t carry maple flavoring, so Fred had to venture into the grocery section of Walmart to find some, which is always a joy.

So I made the damn things, and we were both distinctly underwhelmed. I mean, I’ve made cinnamon rolls before, some really damn good ones if you ask me, and these things were just… meh. And as much as I like sweet stuff, the fact that I only ate half of one (and Fred ate less than that) before we fed them to the chickens has to tell you something.

(The chickens liked them just fine, though, so take that for what it’s worth!)

Charlie loves his sister.

She’s so warm.

He likes to hug her like a big ol’ body pillow.

And she seems to be okay with that.

Clay is a tiny bit of a hellion.

He likes to show that scratcher just who the boss is ’round here. (Hint: it’s not the scratcher.)

“Who, meeeee?”

Tig, keeping watch from the top of the little cat tree.

Jax cannot stand how beautiful he is.

Jax keeps an eye on Clay. JUST LIKE IN THE SERIES. This cannot end well for Clay.

Opie on the big cat tree. “You go ‘way, lady.”

Just a little bit gorgeous, that Jax.

Alice, comfy in her favorite bed.

Did I mention that Alice has her own theme song?

Did you notice that I’m a great big dork?

HERE YOU GO:

Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: It is truly amazing that I ever manage to get anything done around here.
2008: I was under the impression that chickens don’t like to be wet at all, but they seemed to be handling it pretty well.
2007: I’m telling you, the book-buying thing. It’s an illness!
2006: I did a lot of nothing yesterday
2005: (If you must know, it’s the “Tinferl” that really hit my funny bone. I don’t know. Don’t look at me like that. Shaddup.)
2004: Those two just make me shudder. And not in a good way.
2003: “Hey!” he thought to himself. “I think that might be the same bird and the same feeder!”
2002: “That’s okay, Bessie. I hate you sometimes, too,” he said.
2001: No entry.
2000: A blue spark leapt from my tender, sensitive pinky finger to the door of the Jeep in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and I all but screamed.
1999: But if I end up MIA, y’all know where to tell the cops to look…

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

Only a few more hours to enter to win a copy of this adorable book, here! You can enter ’til 3 pm (US Central time). I’ve got two copies to give away, so your chances are good! Again, go here to enter.

Gracie is a good watchdog. She keeps an eye on everything. While George is off snoozing under the coop, Gracie makes sure that all is as it should be in the back forty.

(When she’s not snoozing under the coop with George, that is.)

First, she goes for a run.

Gotta keep warmed up in case she has to chase off a predator or chase down a snack.

Stopping to keep an eye on the chickens.

Doesn’t she look like something has amused her?

“Am keeping an eye on you, lady.”

Grinning.

Laughing at her own joke.

Pretty, pretty girl.

On the cat tree in the foster room (before the new guys took it over).

“What?”

Patty pouts because she can’t go into the foster room.

Patty and Charlie are NOT sure what’s going on in that foster room, but they know they don’t care for the fact that they can’t get in there.

In case you missed it yesterday, I went back to post that the new guys, despite Clay, Tig and Opie’s lack of tail, seem to be A-OK. Many of us remember sweet Jerry Lee Pickett over at Itty Bitty Kitty Committee. Sometimes cats with little or no tail suffer have nerve issues in their back ends. These guys are getting around just fine and they’re all using the litter box with no problems.

I also went back and added that the new guys are named after characters from the TV series Sons of Anarchy, and they’ll collectively be known as the Sons.

(Perhaps someday I’ll get the hang of that whole proofreading thing. Probably won’t be today, though.)

A baleful look from Opie.

Jax and Clay, under the little bed.

It probably comes as a surprise to you that kittens love sun.

Jax is so gorgeous.

Tig and Opie under the scratcher.

::thlurrrrp::

The Sons are starting to come around. At least now when we walk into the room, they don’t run and hide. They still cringe away from us when we reach for them, but that’ll go away in time, I suspect.

The boldest of the four is Clay. He acts like he doesn’t want us to touch him, but once we start petting him, he’s like “Okay, ya got me!” and flops over onto his side. Clay’s the one with the little nub of a tail, and he actually wags it when he gets excited and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be the death of me because SO CUTE.

Oh, and someone asked if their lack of tails affect their balance. The answer, as far as I can tell, is not at all. It would be one thing if they were born with tails and then had to have them removed for one reason or another – in such a case, they’d have to adjust to the sudden lack of the tail that they’d always used to balance themselves – but these guys were born this way, so it’s all they’ve known. And it doesn’t slow them down in the slightest!

Why so stressed, Suggie?

Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: That would be the alternate, much less fun and much more pungent definition of a Dutch Oven!
2008: You know how a body at rest wants to stay at rest?
2007: Mister Boogers regarded me
2006: How these cats aren’t the size of Tubby, I will never know.
2005: No entry.
2004: And if I ever get the urge to go shopping at the mall on a Saturday two weeks before Christmas, I’ll lay down until it goes away.
2003: Thank god I’m not famous. I could handle being followed around by the papparazzi, but live interviews on the TV and radio? Fuck THAT.
2002: My favorite Christmas entry, ever. Chock-full of the Bitchypoo Christmas Spirit.
2001: Of course my world revolves around me and the people I care about. And yours revolves around you. Except when it revolves around me.
2000: I think they should hire me to play his girlfriend – the stripper with a heart of gold – because I just love that man right to pieces
1999: No entry.

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

One more day to enter to win a copy of this adorable book, here! You can enter ’til 3 pm tomorrow. I’ve got two copies to give away, so your chances are good! Again, go here to enter.

Meet the new guys!

Jax, Clay, Tig and Opie.

They’re eight weeks old and a bit shy, but they’re already starting to come around, especially when Fred waves a feather teaser at them.

Their story is that they were born to a momma who’d had at least one litter. They were living on the porch of a woman’s trailer, and she was overwhelmed and asked Challenger’s House for help. Since I’d sent the shelter manager a “my foster room is empty, GIVE ME KITTENS” earlier in the week, she asked if I wanted them. Did I? Of course I did!

(The woman who owns the momma cat will likely have her spayed through SNAP.)

They’re in good shape so far (of course, ask me in another couple of days, which is when the diarrhea usually hits!), and like I said, they’re nervous, but interested in playing.

Edited to add: They’re named after characters from the series Sons of Anarchy, and they’re all boys. We’re calling them the Sons collectively!

Tig likes the covered bed.

Clay’s wondering what’s going on over THERE? (Jax behind him.)

Opie, keeping an eye on me.

Jax is such a gorgeous boy.

“What’s she doin’?”
“I dunno.”

Tig and Opie, hanging out under the scratcher.

Oh, and one note of interest: Clay, Tig and Opie (the tuxies) don’t have tails! Jax has a regular tail and Clay has a tiny little nubbin of a tail, but Tig and Opie don’t have tails at all.

Edited to add: Also, despite their lack of tails, they seem to be using the litter box and getting around just fine. Some cats born with little or no tails have nerve issues in their back ends. It’s possible that an issue will present itself with one or more of these three, but at this point they seem to be okay and don’t have any problems climbing up the cat tree in the foster room.

Opie shows off his lack of a tail.

On another note, Sally, Lucy, Harlan, and Everett are still at Petsmart waiting for their forever homes. If they’re there too much longer – another week and a half, they’ll have been there a month – I’ll probably see about taking Charlie and Patty down and replacing Harlan and Sally, keep Harlan and Sally here for a couple of weeks to give them a break, and then switch them out with Lucy and Everett, and repeat as needed.

Now, for some Crooked Acres profanity. Apparently herding the ducks out to the pond makes us feel the need to swear. It’s a short video, and I’m really posting it more for the sound than the video, but there are some flashes of the ducks.

We’ve watched this video about 20 times and laugh our asses off every time. Who says we can’t amuse ourselves?

Y’know…

As long as you guys are comfortable. But there ARE two empty beds on the other side of the desk!

Previously
2010: You see how I can go on and on and ON about this shit?
2009: THEY’S TOO GODDAMN MANY CATS IN THERE
2008: I AM BESIDE MYSELF WITH EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2007: It’s a pisser that the things that are the least fun – cleaning, laundry – are a neverending cycle.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I want to marry you, Consumer Reports.
2003: The Bean’s nickname for today is “Stanley Rotten.”
2002: Xmas meme.
2001: And then Miz Poo SMACKS him again.
2000: No entry.
1999: I’m just saying.

Attention, those of you in the Phoenix/ Scottsdale, AZ area residents, two cats who were abandoned by their owners desperately need a safe home, whether it be a temporary foster, or a loving forever home.

Please help if you can – and please spread the word!

What? You think you’re too good to get a holiday postcard from me, is that what you think, huh huh huh? This is the thing I do every year to get in the holiday spirit, and it is so NOT a bother! Get yer postcard here! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

Enter to win a copy of this adorable book, here! You can enter ’til 3 pm Sunday. I’ve got two copies to give away, so your chances are good! Again, go here to enter.

If there’s one thing Chuckles does and does well, it’s make himself at home.

To Chuckles’ eyes, that is NOT Elwood. That’s a big heated bed for Chuckles!

As long as you’re comfy, Chuckles. I guess Elwood doesn’t mind – I suppose it helps that you’re such a light little thing.

I’m surprised you’re not perched on top of his head.

Keepin’ warm and watching the birds out the window. What better life for a kitten, am I right?

Such a smug little brat.

Newt says “Pardon me, kind lady. Please let me in. It’s collllld out here. I’m going to die of hypothermia!” (And then I go open the door and he looks in and says “Oh. Nevermind.” and walks away. Oh, that drives me NUTS, but I fall for it every time!)

Then he stands outside for a while and watches the birds and squirrels, and eventually he comes back to the door and allows me to let him inside. (Maybe.)

Then he goes directly to his bed on the table and zonks for like 15 hours, eats a little, and asks to go back outside.

Rough life, Newtles.

I haven’t been able to get a video of Newt walking through the door, but when he does, he looks around in this certain way that reminds me SO MUCH of something from an episode of Friends. I finally happened to see that exact episode, and so I captured it for y’all.

When Chandler walks in the door and looks around? Newt TOTALLY does that. It cracks me up every time.

(That’s from the episode in Season 2 entitled “The One Where Old Yeller Dies”, which you can actually see online here. Friends is my favorite show EVER. I set up the DVR to tape every episode that comes on, and finally had to stop taping when I had 130 episodes for fear that it would fill up the DVR and we’d miss taping Sons of Anarchy or The Walking Dead.)

Previously
2010: I could probably pull off a credible “Bless her heart” if I needed to.
2009: Guess who played Santa at Petsmart on Saturday?
2008: No entry.
2007: That’s approximately 100 pounds of litter every two weeks.
2006: “I LOOK LIKE SID VICIOUS!” I said.
2005: I AM SO HAPPY, YES I AM.
2004: (I never claimed not to be a dumbass)
2003: I would be ever so grateful if you would restrain yourself.
2002: No entry.
2001: I knew y’all were a hip and happenin’ bunch of readers!
2000: Stuff I’ve bought.
1999: And it tasted excellent, of course, which made the eggfart stenchiness more than worth it.

Attention, those of you in the Phoenix/ Scottsdale, AZ area. Two cats who were abandoned by their owners desperately need a safe home, whether it be a temporary foster, or a loving forever home.

From Abigail:

I’m trying to help two cats in fairly desperate need of foster or permanent homes in Phoenix/Scottsdale Arizona. Details can be read here.

We’re desperate to find homes, foster or permanent, for these delightful and sweet-natured cats, who retain affectionate and loving natures despite the poor way they’ve been treated. If you know any foster or adoptive homes in the area, can you please contact Project Cat, or pass the word so we can find them a safe harbor?

Please spread the word!

Fred’s long short story/ novella is now available for 99 cents! You can buy it at Amazon here, or Barnes and Noble, here. (He’s working on getting it put up on Smashwords.)

If you’d like to read a sample to decide whether or not to download it, you can do so here.

Time to let me know if you want a holiday postcard! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

To address some comments y’all left last week (because I have nothing to write about today), I did not in fact use the SCOOP HANDS to help herd the ducks out to the pond. This is because I think SCOOP HANDS are in the garage somewhere, and I didn’t think about it before I went out to the back forty. And oh, y’all, the trek from the back forty to the garage is soooooo lonnnnnnnng and I didn’t waaaaaaanna, so I didn’t. (Can you imagine what a big whiny baby I’d be if the back forty was actually forty acres?) Luckily, the ducks all stick together so closely that the SCOOP HANDS were unneeded.

We discovered over the weekend that there’s a good reason that the ducks don’t go out to the pond. And that reason is that Fred moved the bale of hay (or straw, I don’t know which it is, and I don’t care. Probably straw, though.) away from the hole in the fence between the chicken yard and the pig yard, and the ducks went through said hole in the fence.

What did the ducks discover in the pig yard (side musing: is it still a pig yard if there are no pigs in it? I say yes.), you ask? They discovered the pig wallow. Thus the reason the ducks aren’t hauling their cookies out to the pond. They’re paddling around in the damn pig wallow!

Super awesome good news that we dug a pond for them, isn’t it?

Okay, we didn’t have the pond dug FOR the ducks, we mostly did it to help with the winter time flooding in the back forty and so that Fred could harass me to get a goose (JESUS CHRIST GET THE GODDAMN GOOSE AND SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE), but we did hope that the ducks would use the pond. Hopefully if/ when the pond is full, the ducks won’t be able to resist all that water. I guess if they prefer the pig wallow, though, they can have at it.

Also (saving the pics for Thursday), we herded the ducks back out to the pond over the weekend. I think part of the reason they’re not using the water in the pond is because it’s so low that the side of the pond looks kind of like a cliff to them, and they probably feel hemmed in and threatened. We got them to go into the pond, they paddled around for a few minutes, and then they were like “Okay, we swam. WE WANNA GO HOME!”

They certainly are amusing birds, those ducks.

Oh, and last week when I was talking about the mood swings and such, several people emailed and commented to suggest that I was probably going through peri-menopause or menopause.

Which I might agree with if perhaps I had a uterus and ovaries, or even just ovaries. However, they were removed almost two years ago.

While I won’t completely discount the idea that perhaps they are being kept alive in a lab somewhere and sending out evil rays to make my life difficult, I think the more likely explanation for the mood swings is the one I mentioned: I recently started back on hormone replacement therapy, and it took two to three weeks for my body to acclimate to the hormones last time, thus I expect it will be the same this time around, too (I already am starting to feel better.)

I’ve got to say that I’m still not sold on the idea that I need hormone replacement therapy – I felt perfectly fine after I went off them last year, and it’s only because my Gynecologist strongly recommended that I go back on them that I did. I’m giving it a full three months this time around, and then I’m going to decide whether to go off of them or not, and if I decide to go off them and she gives me shit, I’ll goddamn well change doctors. The entire reason she’s my doctor is because 15 years ago when I was looking for a gyno, I wanted a female doctor, and she was the only one in the entire yellow pages that I could tell was definitely female. I’ve never really warmed to her – I love my Primary Care Physician and my Gastroenterologist, I’ve always told myself that I don’t have to love every one of my doctors – but I wouldn’t object to a Gynecologist with a warm and fuzzy bedside manner, y’know?

I will say this: almost two years after they were yanked out of my body, I do not miss my uterus OR my ovaries one teeny tiny bit. BEST SURGERY DECISION EVER.

Also, that hot flash I thought I was having last week? Turned out to be less of a hot flash and more a matter of Fred failing to turn down the heat at bedtime. The heat vent is directly over my bed, and thus the reason I woke up so damn hot.

Lita asked in the comments just what exactly the words to Maxi’s theme song are. This theme song right here, which I play at least three times a day and laugh like a dork every time:

The words are thus:

Porkin’ along
Singin’ her song
It’s Out! Side! Mama! ::jazz hands::

Explanation: Maxi’s other name is “Outside Mama” (Kara is “Upstairs Mama”) and she’s, well, a bit portly (especially when she’s bulking up for the winter), and usually when she walks toward us, she meows constantly. So I started saying “There she is, porking along, singing her song”, and that’s most of the theme song right there.

Patty would like y’all to know that Charlie’s not the only one with pretty, pretty eyes.

Nor is he the only one who knows about chillin’ like a villain.

“My brother is NOT the only talented one, you know!”

Jake’s face cracks me UP, here. “Can’t you make him stop?”

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that Charlie and Patty adore batting at the big cats’ tails. Jake and Tommy are most often the victims because they’ll put up with it the longest. Please note that Patty’s arm is sticking through one of those holes as she smacks at Charlie who’s smacking at Jake.

Patty joins in smacking at Jake’s tail.

Poor Jake. He puts up with a lot from those kittens, doesn’t he?

That thing Jake’s laying on, by the way, is a Bootsie’s Bunk Bed and Playroom. We have one upstairs and one down, and sometimes they’re popular with the cats, and sometimes the cats are like “That thing? Ugh.” I had to toss the red bed that goes on the top because I washed it, and then it was all lumpy and annoying and grrrr I just hate it when that happens. So I usually keep a folded blanket or towel there, and the cats seem to like it. (Some day I’ll sew a pad that will fit there perfectly, but it won’t be today. Tomorrow’s not looking good for that, either.)

My only gripe with that thing is that eventually the kittens yank the toys off the little sticks that screw into the side, and despite repeated queries to the company that manufactures the thing, I’ve never gotten a reply on how or where to get replacement toys. Look, I’m WILLING to pay for them, and I’m SURE I’m not the only one who has the issue, you’d think the company could offer replacement toys, am I right?

Patty eventually gave up on Jake’s tail and went to lay near Fred’s dirty shoes and play with other toys.

It’s da Poo.

Previously
2010: Speaking of hair, I do not believe that the Navy would have allowed one of their hotshot pilots to sport hair of this altitude.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: I’m a Grinch, and not only a Grinch, but a LAZY Grinch who doesn’t want to have to pick shit up all the time.
2006: I need a vacation, is what I need.
2005: When and if – and I mostly mean “when” – these two break up, I hope there’s a lot of interesting drama.
2004: It’s now my goal to make him CRY when he tries the next batch of chick peas.
2003: “What the FUCK? That is my BUTT you’re sniffing. And it TICKLES.”
2002: $4.49 for a freakin’ book? What the hell are they wrapping it with, gold?
2001: Is that a sex thing?
2000: Damn, isn’t Christmas here yet?
1999: Someone shoot me and put me out of my fucking misery, won’t you?

Fred’s long short story/ novella is now available for 99 cents! You can buy it at Amazon here, or Barnes and Noble, here. (He’s working on getting it put up on Smashwords.)

If you’d like to read a sample to decide whether or not to download it, you can do so here.

Time to let me know if you want a holiday postcard! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .

I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.

If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.

In case you missed it, I posted a Snackin’! Time! movie on Saturday, and some George and Gracie pics yesterday.

I’m planning to post every day through the month of December, and the posts on the weekend will be pretty short and quick ones.

It’s my gift to youuuuu, you lucky lucky people.

I spent almost all day Saturday cleaning the house. I cleaned the bathrooms (I don’t do that nearly often enough), I vacuumed and cleaned the floors (also don’t do that often enough) and I EVEN DUSTED.

I hate dusting. I also hate cleaning the bathrooms. But I always say to myself, after I’ve done both chores, Well, that wasn’t so bad. Maybe I should get into a routine where I clean every (certain day)!

Yeah. Don’t hold your breath on that.

I even pulled everything off the big shelf unit in the laundry room, wiped down the shelves, and put everything back in an orderly fashion. Then I stood on a chair and pulled everything off the top of the laundry room refrigerator and freezer, wiped that down, and carried some litter boxes out to the garage.

Everything was covered in about an inch of dust. Which makes sense, because there are three litter boxes in there, and I hadn’t cleaned off the shelves and the top of the fridge and freezer in… well, I don’t know how long it’s been. Probably saying it’s been a year wouldn’t be untrue. Ugh.

I was about halfway through scrubbing down the laundry room when Fred wandered through and asked what had gotten into me with all the crazy cleaning. I’m thinking someone must have slipped some uppers into my Diet Coke.

I washed the upstairs floors with a combination of vinegar and water with a few drops of olive oil thrown in to hopefully add some shine. When it dried, it looked like crap, so I went over it again with my All-Purpose Cleaning stuff, and it looked a lot better. Not shiny, but definitely clean. I’m thinking that perhaps my floors aren’t meant to be shiny, so I’ll accept clean.

Speaking of cleaning the floors, I bought a Libman Freedom Mop a couple of months ago and have been using that to clean my floors. At the time, I bought some extra cleaning pads (my floors, you will be shocked to find out, get pretty dirty with all those grimy cat paws running around), but I recently read that you can buy microfiber cleaning cloths at Bed, Bath and Beyond (or any store like that) and cut them to fit the mop, and they work just as well. And are less expensive! I like that you can use your own cleaning solution, and I like that the bottom of the mop is nice and wide. I’ve used cleaning rags tucked onto a Swiffer and while it does a good job of cleaning, I had a real issue with the mop flipping over, which is seriously irritating. I don’t have that issue with the Libman.

I recommend it!

Lisa came over on Friday and brought this wonderful item with her for the fosters. She got a Black Friday deal on it, but it didn’t work for her cats, so she passed it along to me. Er, the fosters.

We put it in the front room, and just about every cat in the house came to check it out. Tommy jumped from the floor to the top of the cottage – a move I wouldn’t have expected to work – and stayed there for a long time, flicking his tail to tease Charlie. Charlie thought the cottage was THE BOMB, and Patty came to check it out, too.

After Lisa left, I decided to move the cottage to the foster room, since the cats really like to hang out in that room during the day (it stays pretty warm and gets plenty of sun).

And OF COURSE not a single cat has gone near it since I moved it!

That’s okay, brats. Hopefully soon I’ll have more fosters in there, and they will LOVE climbing around in that cottage. You snooze, you lose!

(And would you believe I didn’t get a single picture while Lisa was here? Didn’t even occur to me to grab the camera! Duh.)

No Peppers adopted over the weekend, unfortunately. Adoptions are super super slow right now. I hate it when adoptions are slow. I know that adoptions will pick up sooner or later (they’ve been slow like this before, this certainly isn’t the first time), but I wish those Peppers and Buster would find their forever home so I can stop worrying about them!

Miss Patty is annoyed.

SO stressed.

Spanky was sound asleep in this bed, and Charlie climbed right in, snuggled up, and went to sleep.

Zzzzzzzz

Half an hour later, Spanky woke up and was like “What the-?”, hissed, and stomped off in a huff.

Sheriff Mama is making her rounds.

Takes a moment to roll around in the sun. Even the most hard-working law enforcement officers deserve a break!

The Sheriff is concerned that you might be misreading the way this picture happened. The Sheriff was NOT running from that wanted criminal (Elwood) in fear for her life. The Sheriff is not scared at ALL of evil wanted criminals. The truth is that the Sheriff had accidentally left her handcuffs in her office on top of the dryer, and she was RUSHING inside to retrieve them so that she could handcuff the evil Elwood and haul him off to prison. She did NOT run away from Elwood because he makes her nervous, and she did NOT sit on top of the dryer and hiss at him when he strolled through with his evil-gangster stroll. That did NOT happen, and anyone who told you different is just a big liar. In case you wondered.

Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: Those wily damn Australians!
2007: I assure you that if Stinkerbelle saw those hussies all snuggled up with HER MAN, she would NOT be pleased!
2006: Le sigh.
2005: no, I didn’t take anything for the pain. Then I couldn’t bitch about the pain. DUH!
2004: Yep, fuck that.
2003: The child is evil. EVIL, I say.
2002: (Close your email clients, you damn Crimson-heads. I know you lurrrve your football team and all, but really. Breaking news?)
2001: Woman of the Year.
2000: What can I say? I’m just the kinda gal who likes profanity in her daily email…
1999: “Let’s kill the Mommy bitch and eat all the canned cat food in the house, then lay around and lick the litter out from between our toes.”