calorie-burning motherfucker, that’s right.
* * *
I took a child’s dose of Benadryl this morning on an empty stomach (I put the bottle of Benadryl in my purse, by the way, and it came in handy when I remembered halfway to the pet store that I needed to take some.) and I think I’m a little bit buzzed.
Yes, a child’s dose of Benadryl on an empty stomach, and I’m about ready to dance on the bars and twirl my bra over my head.
Sad, ain’t it?
* * *
On my way to the pet store this morning, I realized that my air conditioning wasn’t working. It was blowing out air, but warm air, despite being set on the coolest setting. I fiddled around with it for a while and still couldn’t get cool air to come out.
I picked up my cell phone and called Fred.
“Why me?” I said when he answered.
“Because god loves you?” he suggested, and then asked what was going on. I told him, and he sighed and then laughed.
“Maybe I just need to set up a standing monthly appointment at the dealership,” I said.
“Want me to call Salesguy?” he offered.
“HELL no, what the hell would he do? Tell me to take it to the service bay!” I asked and answered.
We talked for a few more minutes, and then I arrived at the pet store and went in to do my thing. It was a pretty light day – there were three empty cages due to adoptions over the weekend – so it took me about an hour to do all the cleaning, feeding, and snuggling.
When I was done, I went out, got into the car, and turned it on.
“This is just the PERFECT FUCKING TIME for this to happen,” I muttered to myself. “I can’t take it in today, because the spud has half a day of school and I might need to go pick her up. Tomorrow’s no good, because I told the spud she could take my car to school tomorrow*. Wednesday, I have a doctor’s appointment in the late morning, Thursday I have to take the spud to the airport, and next week Liz will be here!” As I finished my woeful litany, I glanced down and immediately felt like the idiot I am.
The “air conditioning” button wasn’t on. I pressed the button, and a blast of cold air immediately hit me in the face.
Duh.
*Eek!
* * *
I roasted a turkey yesterday, and it smelled so damn good by the time it was done that I was ready to gnaw my hands off. The only downside is that I over-roasted it, and it was dry.
Still damn good, though. Especially the dark meat. I know it’s fatty and not good for you, but DAMN I love the dark meat of a turkey.
I think maybe this summer I’ll try
brining a turkey and see how that turns out.
Love to eat turkey… love to eat tur-ur-ur-ur-key….
And the best part is there’s plenty left over to make turkey soup!
* * *
The kittens are doing well. We had an unexpected problem, though, with the mother. I know I’ve mentioned that she’s extremely protective of her kittens when she sees other animals. The problem is that she flies into protective-Momma mode whether the cats are near enough to hurt her babies or not. Friday night, Fred and I were hanging out in the room with the kittens for a little while, and when we got up to leave we started walking out the door together. Unfortunately, dumbass Mister Boogers and dumbass Miz Poo were hanging out on the landing right outside the room, and when the mother saw them, she lost her fucking mind. She was howling, she was screaming, she was hissing, she was spitting. Fred managed to catch her before she could get out the door, and as he pulled her back, she grabbed the back of my pants and held on for dear life. I’m pretty sure if he’d let go of her, she would have climbed over me to get to Miz Poo and Mister Boogers.
Who were scared shitless and cowering by the top of the stairs, by the way. I don’t blame them – Momma sounded like a wild cougar. A wild pissed-off cougar, even.
Fred finally got the mother to let go of my pants, and I went out and shut the door. He stayed in there for another ten minutes or so, but every time he started for the door, she was there ahead of him. He finally had to grab a blanket we’d put in there, toss it over the top of her, and run out of the room.
We talked about it for quite a while, but couldn’t come up with a good solution. Because dealing with a hissing, spitting, howling Momma cat is not something I wanted to worry about every time I went in the room.
“What we need is something like a decompression chamber!” Fred said. And then he came up with a plan.
Saturday morning, after he’d gone hiking with some coworkers, he stopped by UHaul. There, he picked up one of their wardrobe boxes. He brought it home, split it down one side, and set it up in front of the door to the guest bedroom.
Basically, it’s like a big cardboard screen. When we’re going into the room, we step in front of the door and pull it around us so that it’s sitting on either side of the door. It’s like a little room outside the door – our cats can’t get in, and even if the Momma cat came running out of the room, she can’t go anywhere but into the little box room.
Is my husband fucking smart, or what? I would NEVER have come up with that on my own, I can guarantee that.
It’s working out pretty well so far!
Want some pictures? Sure you do…
This is my favorite nursing picture so far. Snoopy apparently had so much to eat he can’t even move.
Snoopy.
These kittens LOVE to have their little bellies rubbed.
See those sharp little teeth? I don’t blame Momma for trying to convince them to eat regular food.
Snoopy in a contemplative mood.
Flossie gives me a beseeching look.
“You want a piece of me? You WANT a piece of me? I will LICK YOUR FACE OFF, and you’ll wish you’d never been born!”
I love the way they walk, with their little tails stuck straight up in the air.
Snoopy joins Momma at the food bowl.
Such pretty eyes.
Peeking around the box at the other kitties.
“Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, Willis?”
Peanut is far and away the most sociable of the kittens. It’s gotten to the point now where if I go into the room and sit down, he stops whatever he was doing (unless he was eating. Because NOTHING will stop him from eating.) and comes over, climbs up on my leg, and waits for me to put my hand around him so he doesn’t fall off. Then he rolls over onto his back and waits for me to rub his belly. When I do, he wiggles around and cleans himself and stretches.
These kittens are so freakin’ cute that I’m pretty sure I’m going to bite my tongue clean off one of these days.
There are more kitten pics over at
Flickr, and in Fred’s entry for
Saturday.
* * *
Not impressed by kittens.
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