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Archive for July, 2007

7/31/07

by @ Tuesday, July 31st, 2007. Filed under Life

Pictures from around Crooked Acres. Dinner: Cherry tomatoes with mozzarella cubes, oven-fried okra and green tomatoes, black-eyed peas, corn on the cob, squash casserole. HEAVEN. The absolute, hands-down BEST chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever made. Easy, too – also? From Cooking Light. Which means it’s GOTTA be good for you, so don’t just eat one. Eat six! Honest to god, when you can make something this good in half an hour of work, there’s no excuse for buying and eating that prepackaged shit they sell at the grocery stores. Some fine-looking tomato sauce, made over the weekend by yours truly. I just need to run it through the food processor (I cannot abide tomato chunks in my tomato sauce) and strain it to get the seeds out, then it’ll be ready for the freezer. Canning done over the weekend: pickled okra, pickled jalapenos, pickled cucumbers. YUM. Housewarming gift from my sister. How’d she know I like cats? It’s a mystery! (Flour sack dish towels are the BEST. So are SISTERS!) The chicks absolutely adore anything that comes with seeds in it. We’ve been feeding them a lot of (not-quite-ripe) cantaloupe lately, and tomatoes we find laying on the ground. They eat the entire insides out, and leave the husk. If we’re not quick enough with giving them more, they’ll eventually eat the husks, too. The black-eyed peas have really taken off. Japanese eggplant. ::bzzt::bzzt::bzzt:: “Pardon me, ma’am, just doing my job…” Okra bloom, and some okra, ready to be cut. Maxi, guardian of the garden. What with all the sunflowers falling over, Fred decided to cut them down. I told him to bring me the best blooms, and I put them in a vase. He brought a little more than sunflowers inside, though. “Hellew, Clarice.” “Lady, if I might inquire: what the heck? I was just basking in the sun contemplating finding an insect for my dinner, and suddenly I’m in a place where it’s cold and dark and I can’t find my web ANYWHERE.”

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“Boog-GIE, move over! I wanna be in the picture, too! Mooooom! Make him move over!” :::het::het::het:::
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Previously 2006: But I’ve been secretly calling it hepatootis to myself. 2005: No entry. 2004: Hawaii recap. 2003: No entry. 2002: Around the neighborhood. 2001: “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” I yelled. 2000: All hail Dumbass Bitchypoo.]]>

7/30/07

by @ Monday, July 30th, 2007. Filed under Life

Frank and explicit discussion of menstrual cycles in this section. Mens and uninterested womens, you may be excused. I am in the middle of my second menstrual cycle since I got the Diva Cup I ordered, and at this point, I have to say that I wholeheartedly give it two thumbs up with a few caveats. First off, it’s kind of awkward to insert. You have to hold it folded closed to insert, and I do that, but I’d say about one time out of five, it ::sproings:: open and I have to pull it out, rinse it off, and reinsert it. Secondly, it’s a little uncomfortable to remove, because you can try to squeeze it closed to pull it out, but we’re talking about an area with fairly limited space in which to maneuver, so you (I) end up pulling it out mostly open, and it’s not the size of a baby or anything, but it can be uncomfortable. Neither of those is enough to stop me from using it, because it is ten THOUSAND times better than tampons and roughly 63 MILLION times better than pads. I have not leaked one single time, and even on my heaviest flow days I only have to empty it once in the morning (I like to clean it out and leave it next to the sink for after-shower insertion; yes, I could wash it out in the shower. I choose not to.) and once at bedtime. I think I have a fairly average flow, so women with super-duper heavy flows might have to empty it more often. I’d suggest, if you’re going to give it a try, you start on a day when you’re at home or near a bathroom you’re comfortable with, just in case. I did have to trim the “tail” of the Diva Cup because it was poking me in delicate areas, but once I did that, I can’t even tell it’s there. Note that if you’re uncomfortable with your body and with digging around and possibly getting blood on your hands, and having to rinse out a bloody cup in the sink (oh, stop looking at me like that; I wash the sink down with antibacterial soap afterward, I’m not a heathen (though it has occurred to me to leave a smear of blood in the sink just to see Fred scream and run around in circles)), this might not be for you. The first few times I saw the cup full of blood, I was a tad ooked out (it’s a whole different thing, seeing a tampon saturated with blood versus seeing a cup full of blood), but I got over it. I could never have dealt with the digging-around and bloody-fingers aspect of the whole thing when I was a teen or in my early 20s, but nowadays I take it in stride. So basically – I like it, and I recommend it. Your mileage may vary. ****************************** When not working hard in his position as Bathroom Ambassador (“This is the way to the bathroom! Let me rub upon the wall to show you! Let me walk slowly and stretch and get in your way! And this is the water bowl in the bathroom! Some people like to sit on it, which is funny! Ha! Ha! No, if you need to sit on the water bowl, that’s fine! I’ll just sit right here and watch! Hey, whatcha doing in my water bowl? What… why would you do that in my water bowl? That’s my WATER BOWL!”), Lester J. Spankenstein likes to hang out in his box. Which his Daddy bought just for him. Daddy had to move the boots out of the box, but now it’s just the way he likes it. Bootless and roomy and comfy. He will stay here forever – or at least until his next shift as Bathroom Ambassador begins. Whichever. ****************************** Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: My crap, is my scalp FRIED. 2003: I’m still thinking of killing her. 2002: Getting impatient, because Fred hadn’t carried the bag of food upstairs and poured some fresh food for his majesty, Tubby started bitching “Give me food, damnit!” 2001: “Remember when you moved that dresser? That was cool.”]]>

7/27/07

by @ Friday, July 27th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

I took a picture of myself to check my hair this morning when I was hanging out with the kittens (idea stolen directly from Nance), and when I looked at the picture, I was horrified at how BIG my hair was. And then I looked closer and realized that a lot of it was shadow rather than hair. Whew! Big southern hair averted! Edited to add: Yeah, it’s TOTALLY Gumby, ain’t it? I can see that, though Kathy had to point it out before I realized it!

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Pet store kitty pics from this week (and last) are up. Lots of pictures of Jack Frost!
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Comments, answered! This isn’t really a question but I think it would be so funny and cute to see a video of you saying “who ready for the yum-yums” and the cats’ reactions. Please keep in mind that this is not anything NEAR my normal speaking voice. I don’t usually sound like such a dork, I swear it!
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I don’t want to know what make/model Fred’s SUV was, but I’m dying to know why on earth he didn’t ever want divulge what it was. I remember reading a couple entries from his site from years past where he alluded to the fact that he wasn’t going to divulge the make/model of his SUV, but I never found an original entry that explained why. So, my question is “Why didn’t Fred ever want to, and still doesn’t want to, divulge what his SUV was?” Fred HATES unsolicited advice and at first he didn’t want to say what kind of SUV he got because he didn’t want to hear any of the “Oh, my uncle got one of those and they SUCK!” comments. But to be honest, after a while he kind of started having fun with it and kept refusing to tell anyone what it was because he likes to be an ass sometimes. Which is why he still won’t let me tell y’all what it was! I was pretty surprised to find out that he was willing to let it be known that he got a Hyundai Accent, actually!
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How did you guys and Nance/Rick meet face to face? being that a lot of internet users are hesitant to actually meet? First of all, Nance and I have known each other, online, for years now. I don’t know exactly how long it’s been, but a quick search of my site brings up a mention of her in April of 2002, but I bet it was really even before that, that we started emailing and occasionally chatting (back when I used to chat, which I never did very much, and don’t do at all anymore these days). We’d never talked on the phone due to my phone phobia, but we’d been trading birthday and Christmas presents for several years, too (we’ve recently stopped trading Christmas presents in the interest of destressing the holiday a little!). The first time, Rick had to come to Alabama for work, so Fred and I spent an evening with him eating barbecue and talking. That was in September of last year, and then Rick had to come BACK to Alabama (poor man), and this time Nance came with him. (Not only did Nance come with him, when they left they took Maddy with them. Suckerzzzzz!) Then they came back to visit in March of this year, and we had such a damn good time hanging out and talking and playing CatchPhrase that we can’t wait for them to come back. (I’m trying to convince Nance that the rule is, every time they come to visit, they have to take a cat home with them. She’s not buying it, though.) The list of people I’ve met in real life that I’ve emailed with on the internet is a very small list. There was a reader who did the 3-Day in Atlanta (before I sprained my ankle and had to leave); there were Kinzie and her husband (from Atlanta), who bought our old weight-lifting machine; I’ve met the adorable Whitters who also volunteers for the no-kill cat shelter I volunteer for; and I’ve met Sarah and Pat, who are neighbors of my sister (well, Sarah no longer is, but she used to be!) and also readers of thishere journal. Meeting people in person that you’ve only ever emailed with is very odd. When I meet someone who reads my journal I go into panic mode, thinking “Oh my god! They’re going to find out that I’m a blithering idiot and they’re going to tell the entire internet!”, and then I freak out (quietly, though. No one would ever know that internally I’m freaking OUT, man.) They’re invariably very nice and though they do find out that I’m a blithering idiot, they don’t tell the internet the truth, so my secret is safe with them! (Unless there’s a secret “Robyn is a blithering idiot” message board somewhere, which is possible but – given that the world apparently does NOT revolve around me (even though it should), my blithering idiotness probably doesn’t occupy the minds of others the way it occupies mine.)
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Your cat Sugarbutt looks just like my Madison. Madison is about a year and a half now and she still looks so little to me, compared to other full grown cats I see. When do cat start filling out? How much should she weigh at her age? Maybe female cats are just naturally smaller? Maybe I have nothing to worry about? Thx. Probably by the age of one and a half, cats are about as big as they’re going to get. I think that Madison is probably about done with growing, and if she’s active and acts happy, I wouldn’t be too concerned about it. Some cats truly are smaller than others – Maxi and Newt are literally about half the size of our indoor cats, and I’m going to guess that that’s because they’re so much more active, able to run around and hunt at night while the indoor cats are locked inside. If Madison’s an outdoor cat, I think it’s especially normal for her to be smaller. If you’re really concerned, you could take her to the vet, but like I said – if she’s active and seems happy, I wouldn’t be too worried about it.
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When will you update the ‘cast’ page? You have lost a significant amount of weight since that picture was taken at the quarry (I think). How about the classic Farmer/Daughter pose in front of the ol’ homestead? Pitchfork included! Holy cow – that cast page is seriously out of date, isn’t it? Not only have I lost a lot of weight since then, I have the spud listed as 16, and E’gar still listed as my car. I suppose I’ll get around to it, but I don’t know when – I still need to get my site redesign done (I’m aiming for August 1st for that, but I might just be dreaming); maybe in the process, I’ll get my cast page updated as well.
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several years back, while you were visiting your parents in Maine, you mentioned your parents’ neighbors in a way that made it seem like there was some kind of story. You even said ‘more on them later’ but never followed through. So what about your parents’ neighbors? I’ve been thinking so hard it hurts, but I cannot for the life of me remember any good gossip about my parents’ neighbors. If you could point me in the general direction (ie, the year if not the exact entry), I can re-read the entry and see if it anything comes to mind.
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That little bed looks like it’s falling off the big bed? It’s tipping a little to the side, but it’s pretty solidly on there. I tried moving it to the middle of the big bed, but the cats got all pissy about it, so I had to move it back. They like a little bit of danger, it appears.
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I command you do at least one video entry. I command that you keep dreaming, woman.
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Isn’t okra in gumbo, not called gumbo? Isn’t gumbo a Cajun dish? According to this page, 0kra (Hibiscus esculentus) is also called “gumbo” in this country, although the latter term is more often applied to soups or other dishes which contain okra. Both of these names are of African origin. “Gumbo” is believed to be a corruption of a Portuguese corruption, quingombo, of the word quillobo, native name for the plant in the Congo and Angola area of Africa. I’d never heard that gumbo was another name for okra, either, which was why I was surprised enough to tell Fred about it. I don’t believe I’ve ever actually heard anyone refer to okra as gumbo, though. On a side note, we had gumbo for dinner the other night, and it was pretty good (would have been better if the shrimp wasn’t old and freezer burned, though.)
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The next time you have a Question Answer day could you tell me if you are still using your treadmill. If so what kind do you recommend. Thanks in advance! We actually haven’t had a treadmill in years and years. You might be thinking of our elliptical trainer. I haven’t used it in months, but Fred still uses it frequently and I think we’d still recommend it. It’s a Life Fitness X9i, and though it’s expensive, I think it was very much worth the price – it’s good and solid and easy to use.
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I didn’t know there was an Ethel Kennedy either! I’m 37 and keep up somewhat with the news. How did I miss her name? Ethel Kennedy probably hasn’t been in the news since Bobby was killed most likely has something to do with the fact that so many of you have never heard of her. I swear I’m not obsessed with the Kennedys – I just have a lot of Kennedy trivia floating around in my brain. I spent a good part of my childhood in New England, and the Kennedys are big in that area of the country, as you can imagine. (Side note: JFK Jr, Carolyn, and Lauren Bessette were on their way to Ethel’s daughter Rory’s wedding when their plane went down in July of ’99.)
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Hey, have you ever had Wickles? I think they sell Wickles down there in Alabama. They are spicy pickles. I never had them, but I wanna get me some! I’ve never had Wickles – in fact, I’d never heard of them before – which surprises me, since the company is actually based in Alabama. After checking out their web page, though, I definitely want to give them a try, so I’ll be on the lookout for them.
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But speaking of spoilers, and Army Wives… did you know that series is based on a non-fiction book called Under the Sabers, by Tanya Biank? It’s a pretty good book, but I caution you to not read the book, because there might be some spoilers. BIG spoilers. I did know that the series is based on a book – I think it says so in the credits – and I had considered buying the book to read it, but I don’t think I’m going to – I’d hate to read anything that would spoil the series for me. I really like that show!
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I bet you’re developing sweet knife skillz from all this canning prep work! Or maybe you’re just getting even more dangerous as all your bad habits become even more ingrained? I’m as much a klutz with knives as I ever was – I manage to cut myself about once a week and it drives me CRAZY. I always think I’m being careful, and yet somehow my pinky just kind of slides in there and gets cut. I’m surprised I haven’t managed to completely cut a finger off, or really do any serious damage. I’m sure it’s just a matter of TIME, and y’all will have to start calling me Stumpypoo.
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one thing that has always bugged me and i’ve been afraid to ask (because i don’t skim, but i don’t know how i missed it… or maybe i forgot?) — why do you call it the back forty??? i’ve actually driven home at night to my condo and wondered “the back forty? do they have forty acres?” I actually don’t think I’ve ever answered the question in my journal, so you didn’t skim past the answer! To answer, I’ll quote an email I sent a few months ago: I’m not sure why we call it the back forty (and no, it’s not 40 acres – we should be so lucky! The land altogether is 4 1/2 acres, so the “back forty” is probably around 3 acres), it’s just something I picked up. I had to go looking for a definition and found this one: remote, usually uncultivated acreage on a large piece of land, as on a farm or ranch. That’s kind of how I mean it, so obviously it’s tongue-in-cheek!
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I have a question. I know it is after your colossal question answer day last week but, do you and Fred still have your exercise routines or are y’all getting all you need from maintaining the property? Fred still gets up most mornings and exercises, and then works out in the garden when he gets home from work, but my exercise routine has become pretty much extinct since we bought this house. I honestly can’t remember the last time I exercised for real, and though I keep saying I’m going to get back to it, it hasn’t happened yet. I have the first disc of season 3 of The OC that I’ve had since April, waiting for me to take it out to the garage, pop it in the DVD player and get my ass on the elliptical, but so far I’ve successfully ignored the damn thing. I really do need to get my ass in gear, though. ::sigh::
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My trick to low-slime okra is to get it hot fast. Heat the pan med-high and get a little browning on the okra (which tastes so good anyway) and then get it out pretty quickly. I made okra and tomatoes last night by browning the okra about 3 minutes, then chucking in the tomatoes and then some sliced garlic as soon as the tomatoes started letting off some juice, and let that go another 3ish minutes. My grandmother swore by steaming okra by laying it on top of low-simmer black eyed peas. It was always remarkably non-slimy, you’d think steam would bring out the worst in them, but I have not ever tried it at home so I don’t know if it was grandmother-magic or if it’ll work for everyone. Given that we have plenty of okra AND the black-eyed peas are starting to come in, I think I’m going to try to remember to give this one a try, and if I remember, I’ll report back on how it went!
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Since you have been talking a lot about canning and freezing and dehydrating, i thought i would tell you about something my sis-in-law gave me for my birthday. It is a jar of green tomato relish. I tried it at a catfish restaurant in Tennessee one time years ago and liked it and she remembered. It is durn good! I don’t mean to sound like an idiot – I so rarely INTEND to, of course – but what do you do with green tomato relish? Is it like a side dish, or do you eat it atop something, or what?
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Have you ever tried pickled okra? Heaven! We like ours very spicy, but the milder forms are tasty, too! I haven’t, but thanks for the reminder – I ran across a recipe at one point and thought that I’d like to try making pickled okra, but had forgotten. I’ve printed out a couple of recipes, and I think this weekend, when I’m making pickled jalapenos and tomato sauce and cucumber pickles, I’ll do up a batch of pickled okra as well.
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Did you like Damages? I haven’t watched it yet, but I’m looking forward to it!
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Just a little tip on the okra…my mum pops in a squeeze of lemon or tamarind (used in Asian cooking) when stir-frying and it totally helps with the slime. I’ll have to give that a try, too! (Though like I’ve said, I don’t actually mind the slime.)
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Have you tried dilly beans? Oh, so good. Here’s a recipe that looks pretty close to the one I’ve used in the past – you can leave the cayenne out if you don’t like the heat… That’s another one I’d forgotten I wanted to try! Given that our second planting of beans has started flowering, I have a feeling we’re going to end up with more beans than any two people could ever eat in a lifetime, so I’m definitely giving the dilly beans a try!
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Well, here is my question for you. A number of times (OK maybe once or twice) you have said that you would like to visit Australia. Do you still want to do that? Absolutely! I’ve been trying to convince Fred that we should go to Australia for our 10th anniversary – this would be awesome, I think – but he’s not seeming too terribly interested, at least not yet. However, someday I WILL visit Australia. And New Zealand. And Scotland. Among others!
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I was reading an article yesterday in which NASCAR driver Greg Biffle spoke out rather strongly against that football player and dog fighting in general. He has a foundation which raises money for numerous animal charities. It seems like a very worthy organization. I’m glad when people use their fame to better the world we live in. I’m not a fan of NASCAR, but I liked what he had to say on his web site, so I thought I’d pass it along. Definitely worth checking out!
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Which places would never interest you as a vacation destination? Other states, other countries, other continents — which ones would you never care to see, and why not? This is going to make me sound like a complete snob, I fear, but I have little desire to visit third-world countries. If Angelina (Jolie) visits it regularly, I don’t particularly want to visit it. I’ve never wanted to visit the Middle East – nothing about that part of the world has ever appealed to me with the exception of maybe Israel. I have a huge fear of visiting non English speaking countries, some crisis happening, and being unable to communicate with the people around me. I don’t think I want to visit South America, though it’s a beautiful part of the world. As far as states – to be honest, I’d love to visit every state in the union, particularly Alaska. I think it’s terrible that I’ve seen so little of my country, and if I had my way we’d visit a couple of new ones every year.
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Do you have a set workout routine you try to stick with? Do you ever get cravings? As mentioned above, I haven’t worked out in ages, something I intend to remedy all the time, but haven’t yet. Do I get cravings? HELLZ YES I get cravings. Lately (due to PMS, I think), I am craving the hell out of fried rice. Not enough to go get some (and besides, I don’t care for the gas most rice gives me), but craving it nonetheless. I’m a sugar hound, so I’m always craving sweet stuff. And this is going to sound like complete and utter “Are you craving potato chips? Eat a rice cake!” bullshit, but the Sungold cherry tomatoes we’re growing this year are so sweet that they will totally take care of a sweet craving. I’ve eaten a TON of them lately – with mozzarella and without; they’re best just plain, popped into your mouth. Um. I had to go into the kitchen for a handful of Sungold tomatoes. What was I saying? Oh, right. Cravings. Yep, I get them as much as I ever did!
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I have multiple cats like you and one has decided that he likes the corner of my bedroom more then his litter box. Have you had issues like this and if you do, what do you do to stop it and get the stink out! The only cat we’ve really had that issue with was Tubby, when he developed diabetes. We were never able to stop him from peeing inappropriately – he did it just a few days before he died, in fact. Spot has lately taken to peeing inappropriately upon occasion, and it’s always preceded by a visit from a strange animal. He did it several times when my parents were here with their dog, and he did it a few times after we let Maxi into the house. We’re lucky in that he never pees directly on the floor, but pees on something on the floor – that is, the bath mat in the spud’s bedroom (which I washed the first few times, then replaced completely), the blanket on the couch (which had slipped to the floor), and this morning I discovered that at some point he peed on the towel in the cat carrier. As long as we keep strange animals out of the house, we don’t seem to have a problem with him; at least we’ve identified what his issue is! If you know which cat is peeing in the corner of your bedroom, your first stop should be the vet to make sure there are no physical issues going on with him. If there aren’t, then it’s a behavioral thing and you need to try to figure out what causes it. It might have been a one-time thing and now that the smell of cat pee (the most offensive odor in the universe, if you ask me) is in the corner of your room, it could be that the cat is smelling the cat pee, which makes him or her believe it’s okay to pee there. We’ve always used Axi-Dent Pet Odor Neutralizer on cat pee – it’s the only stuff we’ve ever used that immediately wipes out the smell of cat pee. If there’s carpet there, you should probably ask a carpet expert to come and look at the carpet. We had to have the carpet and pad taken up from the corner of the bedroom where Tubby was peeing, and replaced, but an expert will be able to tell you whether the carpet can be saved.
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My question: Lindsay Lohan? Is it wrong that I feel sorry for her? She is completely messed up, that girl, and I’m not sure that there exists enough help to save her. I don’t know what the answer is, except to perhaps build a time machine and go back in time and stop her parents from allowing her to enter the entertainment industry. For every kid who acts and/ or sings and attains fame at a young age and comes out of it relatively okay (Christina Aguilera is the only one who comes to mind, but she’s still young), there are ten who spend years screwing up and never really seem to get to any level of normalcy (hi, Danny Bonaduce and the Coreys!). I think that the level of fame Lindsey saw at such a young age can be both addictive and scarring. If, when you’re a teenager, there are millions of people who hang on your every word, how can you NOT want to keep feeling that adoration, and how can that NOT fuck you up? I hope someone figures out how to help her, and I hope she figures out how to help herself.
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I was wondering when all of your other cats have ‘real/official’ names that begin with “S” – why did you choose Tom Cullen? Are you moving up the alphabet or are the others just coincidence? It was more Fred’s decision all along to keep the cats’ “legal” names starting with “S”, which I think is silly – I literally have to stop and think for a few seconds every time to remember that Mister Boogers is really “Stanley” and Miz Poo is actually “Scrappy.” Personally, I wanted to name Miz Poo Molly, but since Fred had “let” me get her, he got to make the call, and he insisted that her name start with “s”, since we had Spot, Spanky, Snoopy (Tubby), and Stimpy (Mr. Fancypants). When we had Tommy – after his siblings had gone to the pet store and he was still with us (he was limping the day I took his siblings to the pet store, so we kept him for a couple of days, and he wormed his way into our hearts), we were talking about names (before we’d decided to keep him), and got on a Stephen King theme. Fred said that “Tom Cullen” would be a great name, which made me laugh immediately. Later, when I was suggesting that we keep him, Fred said he’d agree as long as we could name him Tom Cullen. So we did! It’s just a coincidence that Sugarbutt’s name starts with an “S”, but all the other “S” cats were on purpose, and in keeping with the theme.
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What kind of laptop did you decide on? I know you wrote it somewhere, but can’t find it. It’s a ZT Affinity – this one – and at this point I do not recommend it at ALL. Not only are the USB ports upside down (very weird), it was slow as shit until Fred installed an extra 1 GB of memory, the internal wireless internet doesn’t work at all (we had to get a wireless thingy that you plug into a USB port), it’s got Windows Vista, which appears to be a bloated piece of crap, and I am completely unable to watch movies or videos on it. Fred’s still working on it and will be installing Windows XP at some point this weekend, so we’ll see how that goes. But again – I don’t recommend it. I said to Fred the other day, “For the price, I could have gotten a damn Dell”, but then again – I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who has had anything good to say about a Dell (if you have a Dell and love it, feel free to leave a comment!).
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Tommy absolutely cannot come to visit the foster kittens without Spanky running over and getting all up in his shit. He thinks Tommy is COOL (it’s like a little kid wanting to hang with the cool big kid) and is always following him around, sniffing at him, and trying to start a fight. All Tommy wants to do is check out the toys, the view out the window, and the food. He has no time for the little kid. Zombie kitty wants brains. Braaaaaains. (Tons more kitten pics here. I wanted to clear off my memory stick today.)
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Yesterday I took Sugarbutt’s bandage off to look at his neck, and when I went to put it back on, the self-stick stuff wouldn’t stick. So I got another roll and put some on him, and it wouldn’t stick, either. So I pulled off a long piece and wrapped it around his neck twice, and it stayed. Until last night when the end came unstuck. Fred says he looks like Fred from Scooby Doo. Hee! Note on Sugarbutt: I took him to the vet today; he’s got to go back next week to have the spot biopsied, since it didn’t react to the steroid at all, so we can see exactly what it is. Poor Suggie.
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Previously 2006: I look like a fucking Simpson! 2005: “I dropped my purse!” I lied. 2004: I’m a slug in a family of energizer bunnies. 2003: No entry. 2002: My primitive mind can’t grasp these concepts. 2001: No entry. 2000: I’m just not feeling very chatty today.]]>

7/26/07

by @ Thursday, July 26th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

* * * Several people have emailed me, letting me know that they’re blogging for Blogathon this year. I’m sorry, but I don’t take part in Blogathon at all, in a blogging or (especially) donating capacity. I think y’all know that I happily contribute to charities and have donated to a lot of your causes and will continue to do so, but I don’t support Blogathon, haven’t for a couple of years, and don’t intend to in the future. kthxbye.

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Spoilers for the movie Premonition with Sandra Bullock and the hothothot Julian McMahon in this section; skip to the next if you haven’t seen it. We watched Premonition last week, and I have to say that I liked it a lot, right up until the end. Like Fred said after the movie was over, we watched the whole goddamn movie with the belief that she might have a chance to save him, and yet he still died. We should have seen that coming, I suppose, but still we hoped. There was a bug, though, and I’ll explain it in excruciating detail because I MUST. The movie opens with the girls waking Sandra Bullock up and telling her they’re going to be late; that’s on Thursday. Sandra Bullock takes the girls to school, and we see both girls’ faces several times, and the older one’s face is perfectly fine, no stitches. Later, at home, Sandra Bullock puts stickers on the sliding glass doors. BUT on Tuesday (or maybe Monday; it’s been almost a week since we watched it, so I can’t remember which), the older girl runs through the sliding glass doors, shattering them and cutting her face all up. Her face is still stitched up on Saturday. But Thursday – no messed-up face, no stitches. That’s a pretty big bug, and there was no explanation for it that I can recall. Still, I liked the movie right up until the stupid ending. That Sandra Bullock, cute as a button.
* * *
Speaking of movies, I watched Sense and Sensibility (another Netflix movie) yesterday. I’ve seen it before, but was struck with the need to see it again. I just love the hell out of Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet, and the part where Hugh Grant informs Emma Thompson that it was his brother who married, not him, and she bursts into tears and Mrs. Dashwood, Maryanne, and Margaret sidle out of the room is possibly one of my favorite scenes in all of moviedom.
* * *
Sugarbutt’s neck really isn’t getting any better, so I’ve got an appointment to take him to the vet tomorrow morning. Which reminds me – I need to get the cat carrier out this afternoon and leave it out so that when I snatch Sugarbutt up tomorrow morning to stuff him in the carrier, he won’t immediately know what I’m about to do, and fight to get the hell away from me. Every time I get the carrier out of the closet, all the cats scatter – especially Miz Poo and Spot – and hide for a couple of hours. Once they get accustomed to having it sit in the middle of the computer room floor they sniff at it then forget about it. So when I pick Sugarbutt up tomorrow, he’ll just thing I’m going for a snuggle. Then I’ll stuff his ass in the carrier and he’ll feel all horrified and betrayed. Sugarbutt has Stranger Danger issues.
* * *
When I am in the kitchen, I always and forever have company. This company is in the form of Spot, who believes that my being in the kitchen should always equal his receiving a tasty, tasty treat. I’m always happy to share if I’ve got something he might like – ground round or chicken, usually – but when I’m standing at the counter cutting up okra to dehydrate, I figure that’s not really his sort of thing. He still sits in the middle of the floor and stares at me. If I ignore him and keep cutting okra, he eventually starts squeaking at me, and the sound of Spot squeaking is like having nails drilled directly through my eardrums. I’ve tried circumventing the squeak by showing him what I’m doing – holding out a tray of chopped okra – but he sniffs it and gives me the most disapproving look as if he’s thinking “Yeah, I see what you’re trying to distract me with. I don’t buy it. Give me some of the good stuff, BITCH.” So when I’m standing in the kitchen cutting up something he wouldn’t be interested in, I start to get tense after a few minutes, because I can always see him out of the corner of my eye, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he starts with the goddamn squeaking again. Sometimes I swat at him with a dishtowel to run him out of the room, but he always comes back. The other day I was cutting up cherry tomatoes for dehydrating, and I could see Spot sitting on a corner of the rug, watchingwatchingwatching me. I tensed up because I HATE that goddamn squeak he makes, and I chopped faster, hoping to finish and get the hell out of the kitchen before he could start in on me, but still he sat and stared. Finally, I’d had enough. I grabbed a dishtowel, whirled around, and waved it at him, yelling “Get! Go!” at the top of my lungs. Which is when I realized I was yelling at a bottle of white vinegar, not Spot. Probably the vinegar wasn’t going to start squeaking at me, but in case it was going to, it’s certainly been warned. You can’t trust those bottles of vinegar.
* * *
Yesterday Fred and I were sitting at our respective computers. I was looking up information on preserving okra – I’ve been slicing, dehydrating, and then freezing it, but Fred complained that he really likes whole okra, and so I was looking to see what I needed to do to prepare okra for freezing whole (answer: blanch, which REALLY brings out the snotty consistency), and I wandered across a page with interesting okra information. “Huh,” I said out loud. “Did you know that okra is also called gumbo?” “Uh, no,” he said. “Interesting, huh?” “I… guess so. Did she have big ears or something?” “Um. WHAT?” We turned from our computers to face each other. “Did she have big ears?” Fred repeated. “Who?” Long silence, while we pondered the conversation and tried to figure out where we’d taken a wrong turn. “Did you say Oprah is also called dumbo?” Fred said. I think we’ve both lost our hearing since we moved to this house. The number one thing we seem to say lately is “Huh? What? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”, which for some reason irritates the fucking shit out of me when Fred yells it to me from another room. I tried to get Fred to use his cell phone for texting, so we could just text each other when I’m, say, in the kitchen and he’s in the front room. He wouldn’t go for it, though.
* * *
I am very, very mean. I take the foster kittens a snack every morning and every evening (a couple of spoonsful of plain nonfat yogurt), but before I’ll give them their snack, I stand over them and say in a bizarrely cheerful voice, “Who ready for the yum-yums? WHO READY FOR THE YUM-YUMS?!” until Gilligan and Spanky “speak” to let me know that they, in fact, are ready for the yum-yums, so hand it over lady. “Please, might I partake of the yum-yums, lady?” “I’ve got a belly and it’s needin’ the yum-yums. HAND OVER THE YUM-YUMS.” Once the yum-yums are eaten, Gilligan and Spanky go after my feet, if I’m wearing socks. They cannot abide the socks.
* * *
In what’s going to become the guest room sits the spud’s bed. We’ve been intending to move it out to the garage, but given that we’ve got no guests (NANCE), there’s no big hurry to do so. Atop the spud’s bed sits a small doll bed that my father made for the spud and which she left behind (she’s a wee bit past the playing-with-dolls stage). Atop the doll bed is a little mattress and quilt my mother made for the bed. For these past few weeks, the doll bed has sat atop the spud’s bed, unmolested. No one’s looked at it twice, and then suddenly for no apparent reason, it’s become the place to be. “I am former Senator Stanley J. Boogerton, and I approve this bed.” Spanky, especially, likes the bed. He likes to spend his days on the bed atop the bed, and if you go past the doorway, he calls you in with his goofy little meow to come visit and see him in laying on the bed he believes was created just for him.
* * *
Previously 2006: I may have Hepatitis. 2005: But not to worry, it was just cramps. Whew! 2004: I want to rip her goddamn fucking ::fliiiip::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIIIP::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIP::TAP::TAP::TAP::FLIP::TAP::TAP::TAP:: head off her stupid fucking goddamn neck 2003: No entry. 2002: I caught the eye of one of them, who noticed my intensely guilty terrorist-like face, and waved me over to wand me down. 2001: No entry. 2000: Because, you know, my life is so damn chaotic. Yeah.]]>

7/25/07

by @ Wednesday, July 25th, 2007. Filed under Life

this picture. Is it just me, or is she a total dead ringer for Evan Rachel Wood? They could be sisters! Speaking of Evan Rachel Wood, I swear to y’all, every time I think about the fact that she’s dating Marilyn Manson, I want to throw myself at her feet and beg her to stop dating that attention-whoring poser FREAK. Evan Rachel Wood! You are throwing away your youth and beauty on a talentless freak! You are wasting the pretty! Stop it right now, young lady! I’m sure he’s a wonderful person underneath all the posing and attention-whoring and lack of talent, but he makes me shudder and to see sweet little Jessie Sammler dating his freak ass makes me shudder twice. (I’ll admit that she does seem to have the flat, dead eyes going on. Probably they’re a match made in heaven. ::shudder:: )

* * *
Last week we finally got around to watching Bobby. I had no real desire to watch the movie, but at some point in the past I’d put it in my Netflix queue and when I wasn’t paying attention, it made it to the top of the queue and Netflix sent it to me. (On a side note, I think Netflix should incorporate a “Are you sure you really want this movie?” feature, so that when they’re getting ready to send you the next movie on your list, they send you a “We’re about to send this movie you put in your queue a long time ago. You might have no desire to see it. Are you sure you really want it?” email, and you have like 6 hours to confirm that you really want it; if you don’t respond in that time, they go ahead and send it anyway. Wouldn’t that be a convenient and nifty feature? IDEA COPYRIGHT, Robyn And3rson, July 25, 2007.) So one night last week we didn’t have anything to watch, so I said to Fred “Let’s just watch the first ten minutes of Bobby, and if we don’t like it, we can stop the movie and I’ll send it back.” He put it in, and can you guess what happened next? That’s right – we loved it. There’s one scene where Helen Hunt and Martin Sheen are getting ready to go out, and she says to him, “Do you think I’m a Jackie or an Ethel?” Fred turned to me, a slight look of confusion on his face. “Ethel?” he said. “Who do you suppose she means? Ethel Merman? Or Ethel Mertz?” I looked at him. “You’re kidding, right?” I said. When it was established that he was not, in fact, kidding at all, I hooted derisively. “Ethel KENNEDY!” I said. “She wants to know if she’s a Jackie or an Ethel KENNEDY!” It blew my mind that Fred didn’t even know there WAS an Ethel Kennedy, so I made fun of him some more. “I’m not obsessed with the Kennedys the way you are!” he said. “I’m not obsessed with them,” I said. “I just think it’s sad that you have no idea what’s going on in the world around you.” He got smug. “Oh, REALLY,” he said. “If you’re so on top of the world around us, why don’t you tell me three Democrats who are currently running for president and three Republicans?” “That’s not important,” I said. “No, really. I’d like to know. Let’s hear it! Three Democrats, please.” “Fine!” I huffed. “Uh… Hilary Clinton!” “That’s one.” “Barack Obama. And…” I had to think for a moment. “John Edwards!” “Very good,” Fred allowed. “Now three Republicans.” I had NO FUCKING CLUE. “Well?” Fred said. “It doesn’t matter!” I said. “The Republicans haven’t got a chance in hell of winning this one! And I wasn’t talking about POLITICS. I was talking about stuff that MATTERS.” “Uh huh.” And with a smug, self-satisfied air, he started the movie again.
* * *
Speaking of the Kennedys, I have to say – sometimes they’re really good looking and sometimes, they’re just very much not. It’s like if the genes go one way they’re model material, but if they twist ever so slightly in another direction, they’re straight out of Frankenstein’s lab.
* * *
After I took Sugarbutt to the vet, the sore on his neck didn’t get any better. The problem was that as it healed it itched, so he’d scratch it and make it worse, then it’d start to heal and itch some more, more scratching, and so on. Finally, I went to the drug store and bought some supplies, and when Fred got home from work, we put a gauze pad with hydrocortisone on it directly on the sore, then wrapped some of that self-stick stuff (it comes in rolls and looks like Ace bandages; all the bloodwork labs around here are using the stuff to hold gauze on, rather than using band-aids). When Sugarbutt was all wrapped up, we stood back and looked at him, and then we had to laugh. ‘Cause he looked exactly like one of those long-neck women in Africa. The neck is slowly getting better, but I’d like to see it completely healed. It’s crusty and scabby, and still driving him a little crazy. If it’s not significantly better by the end of the week, I’m going to take him back to the vet and see if there’s anything we can give him to stop the itching. Poor Sugs.
* * *
How YOU doin’?
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: Home again, home again. 2004: I am a SUCKAH for the bullshit claims on bottles of lotion. 2003: Momma always said, stupid is as stupid does… 2002: No entry. 2001: Oh joy. 2000: I’m such a wimp that even a confrontation on TV ties my stomach in knots.]]>

7/24/07

by @ Tuesday, July 24th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

America is full of people who love to pretend to be offended. And from O Magazine: “Resentment,” says the writer Malachy McCourt, “is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Just thought I’d share.

* * *
Also, I jotted this down when Fred and I went to the movies a few weeks ago, because it cracked me up: As a child, Jim Carrey would wear his tap shoes to bed in case his parents needed cheering up in the middle of the night. I think that is my favorite factoid, ever.
* * *
So yes, I read about 40 pages of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows before bed Saturday night, and then spent all day laying in bed reading, with the occasional breaks for food or trips to the bathroom. I finished sometime after 6:00 Sunday evening. I should point out that I didn’t read the entire book in one day because I’m a huge Harry Potter fan (though I do like the books); I read it because I just knew that if I didn’t read it immediately, I’d stumble across a spoiler, and I hate that shit. POSSIBLE SPOILERS BEGIN I think it was a good book. I liked that the epilogue picked up 19 years later, I like that they were all seeing their kids off to Hogwarts, though I think the epilogue was a little too cutesy and I was more interested in what Harry et al were up to as adults rather than the super-obvious names they gave their kids. I like that Neville seemed to really come into their own, and to be honest, I’d have liked more details of what Dumbledore’s Army got up to while Harry and Hermione were off trying to figure out what the hell they were doing. Hedwig’s death didn’t affect me, but Dobby’s – the funeral – had me crying like a baby. In all, a good book. If I hadn’t been afraid of running across spoilers, I might have waited a few weeks or months to read it, though. I think J K Rowling set it up nicely so that if she really wanted to, she could start up a new series about the Potter and Weasley kids, but I don’t feel like that was necessarily her intention. POSSIBLE SPOILERS END So yeah, I was really surprised to find that Harry and Voldemort became lifelong luvahs at the end of the book, living happily on the ocean with their 63 dragons. Who saw THAT coming? (Yeah, yeah, har. I am HILARIOUS.)
* * *
Knowing that I wanted to spend all day Sunday doing nothing but reading, I busted my ass on Saturday to get stuff done so that I could take Sunday off. I canned four pints of salsa for Fred, which took longer than I’d expected, what with the blanching and peeling of tomatoes, chopping the tomatoes, chopping jalapenos and green peppers and onions and cilantro, then boiling it for a few minutes before canning it. (Fred’s going to give the canned salsa a test run this week to see how it turned out; if he likes it, I’ll make another batch to can, so he’ll be set for the winter.) Then I snapped, cut, and canned green beans, which took forfuckingever (but was okay, because I spent the snapping and cutting portion of that activity in the living room watching TV and got caught up on Army Wives), and then I had to cut up the two watermelons Fred had picked – he yanked up the watermelon patch because the watermelons were overtaken by weeds, which was stunting their growth, but he brought two small watermelon in for me, because he found a watermelon preserve recipe he wanted me to make. He helped me cut up the watermelon rind, which took a long motherfucking time, but once it was cut up, all I had to do was put some sugar on it, and put it in the fridge to sit overnight (two overnights, really, since I didn’t finish up the preserves and can them ’til yesterday). But it was worth it, ’cause I didn’t have to do a damn thing on Sunday. I took a shower, then put my nightgown back on, and stayed in it. Very freeing it was, to walk around in a nightgown all day. Maybe I should take EVERY Sunday off! (Or not)
* * *
We got our first batch of black-eyed peas on Saturday. Fred shelled them and put them in the pressure cooker with an onion and some water, and they came out really well. I think we’d better get used to the taste of black-eyed peas, because it appears that we’re going to have 63 million pounds of them. Fred picked another pound and a half yesterday, which I blanched and froze. We also got our first batch of cucumbers yesterday. I decided to cut one up to have with dinner (and use the rest for pickling) and cut one open to find that it’d been the victim of a goddamn vine borer bug. I went out to look at the cucumbers, and the plants are covered with those little stinkbug-looking fuckers. There was a robber fly sitting there, and I kept saying to it, “Jesus christ, you fucker! Do your job! There are a thousand vine borers sitting right there! Grab one and suck the life out of it!” The robber fly just looked bored. Either he was full, or uninterested in vine borers. I pickled the other cucumbers with a dill recipe I found online; it didn’t require cooking the cucumbers first (or putting them in salty water for 8 hours), so we’ll see how they come out. If we get another batch of cucumbers before the borers get to them, I want to make some of Amanda’s Freezer Pickles, and I have a couple of other recipes I want to try. Fred’s talking about planting another row of cucumbers (and treating them to prevent vine borers), and I’m kind of waffling on it. On the one hand, I do like me a good pickle. On the other, I really don’t eat them all that often, and pickling is about all you can do with cucumbers. Hmm. I do need to try my hand at sweet pickle relish, though. You can’t have deviled eggs without sweet pickle relish, and (hopefully) we’ll start getting eggs from the girls soon.
* * *
The kittens are doing well. Spanky’s really started to let me pet him a lot more than he was, and in fact he’s become a lot less skittish about being petted than Gilligan is. I’ve let the shelter manager know that they’re both ready to go when there’s room at the pet store, but with the glut of kittens right now, I’m not sure when that’ll be. Maryanne refuses to let me do more than occasionally brush her as she’s going by, but she’s definitely warmed up to Fred. I’ll be interested to see how she is once her brothers are gone and she has only us to play with – will she loosen up, or be the same standoffish little brat? When you’ve got kittens who love to play with the camera strap, you end up with a lot of closeup pictures. Mister Suspicious. Gilligan takes a page from his suspicious brother’s book.
* * *
Basket full o’ hate.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: “You mean Todd Beamer wasn’t the only one on that flight?” 2001: That’s it, that’s all the Miz Poo stories I have at the moment. I hope that’ll hold you. 2000: At the end, after having achieved a size 8, Jemima porked ALL the way back up to a 10, the cow. ]]>

7/23/07

by @ Monday, July 23rd, 2007. Filed under Life

7/20/07

by @ Friday, July 20th, 2007. Filed under Life

My cat has been at the animal hospital for almost four days now for Renal failure. She gets to come home tonight. The vet says that if we give her 150ccs of saline every four days for the rest of her life, she’ll live a full and happy life. (read: full and happy so quality of life really isn’t an issue) Of course, we’re going to do it, but I’ve had so many people look at me funny when I tell them these things. “It’s just a damn cat…why would you go to all that trouble?” I say, it’s because she’s my cat and my responsibility and I love her. People have a right to their opinions but I’m amazed at the people who wouldn’t do it for their pet. Sooooo, my question is, would you or wouldn’t you and if you wouldn’t, why not? (No judgment, I promise!) I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that we’d do it, as long as the cat’s quality of life was high. I do hope we never have to find out, though!

* * *
I was wondering how you and Fred met and how long you dated before you got married. I actually wrote a long, detailed entry answering this very question, but for those of you who don’t want to go back and read it (can’t blame you!), the short answer is: we met online in a chat room – IRC Undernet !Fredsplace – in March of 1996, we met in person on Memorial Day weekend ’96, I moved to Alabama and in with Fred in August of ’96, and we got married on Halloween 1998. We never really “dated”, I guess, but so far it’s worked out pretty well!
* * *
Burning question; My friends and I have wondered for years now, HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO READ SO MANY BOOKS? Funny thing, I feel like I’m not getting nearly as much reading done these days, what with all the damn canning and chopping and slicing and vacuuming I’m doing, but a glance at my reading page tells me that it hasn’t dropped off that much. The answer is that I read whenever I get the chance. Some evenings (depending on how tired I am), I read for an hour or so after Fred’s gone to bed. Some mornings (depending on what I’ve got to get done that day) I lay in bed and read for a while. During the day I’ll take occasional 10 or 15 minute reading breaks. Also (sorry), I read on the toilet. A page or two every time you have to pee really adds up! (I actually keep a book in the bathroom for just that reason).
* * *
Whatever happened to the quarry? You must look hottt in a bikini now. Last I heard, those bastards shut the quarry down and now it’s pretty much unused. DAMNIT. There have been times this summer when a dip in the quarry would have been the very thing I needed. As for looking hottt in a bikini? I respectfully disagree, but I’m NOT sharing pictures to prove my point. The last time I wore a bikini, I was around five, and I expect that unless I lose my mind, that’s the last time a bikini will come anywhere near my body.
* * *
Question: What the the last 5 books you’ve read that you totally loved and could barely put down, and what were they about (romance, mystery, etc.)? FYI: I highly recommend The Thirteenth Tale, if you haven’t read it. I had to go back and looking at my reading page, but here’s the list: 1. Magic Hour, by Kristin Hannah; I finished that the other morning, and tears were absolutely dripping down my face at the end. I don’t know that that’s ever happened before – I often tear up when reading a book, but tears rolling down my face is unusual. I don’t know how to classify it – there’s romance, but I wouldn’t call it a romance novel. There’s a mystery, but it’s not a mystery. It’s just a damn fine book that broke my heart. 2. Undead and Uneasy, by Maryjanice Davidson. I love this series about a woman who wakes to find that she’s a vampire, and not only a vampire, but the QUEEN of the vampires. It’s always funny and I have the hardest time putting these books down. Lighthearted and amusing. I’d classify this in the romantic humorous supernatural section of the book store. 3. Blaze, by Richard Bachman/ Stephen King. Apparently I like novels that break my heart, because this one did, a little. It’s not a mystery, not a suspense, just… fiction. Very reminiscent of Of Mice and Men, another book I loved. 4. The Gift of Fear, by Gavin de Becker. If you haven’t read this, you really ought to. It’s about learning to understand and obey your instincts, really; how many times have you brushed away a fear at the back of your mind, thinking you were overreacting, only to find out later that your instincts were dead-on? Read it, learn it, know it. (I’d call it a self-help book; one every woman should read.) 5. Back Luck and Trouble, by Lee Child. He doesn’t know it, but Jack Reacher is my secret fictional character boyfriend (he and Burke fight it out for my affections on a regular basis). Jack Reacher unfailingly kicks ASS and you must love him. YOU MUST. I’d classify this (and all Reacher novels) as a mystery, I guess. I do own The Thirteenth Tale, by the way, but haven’t read it yet.
* * *
My question for your extravaganza: this far out from your surgery, do you have to adjust your eating habits at all? I know before, you couldn’t eat certain things, and you could only eat tiny amounts. Has your body adjusted? My body has adjusted very well, and I can eat most anything these days. I can’t have too much in the way of simple carbs or sugar – they make me very very VERY sleepy – but the stuff that was going right through me this time last year (vegetables, for one) don’t give me any trouble anymore, thank god. My one gripe is that I am for some reason suddenly addicted to rice – I was never a big fan of rice before – especially rice combined with corn or peas, but it makes me horrendously, painfully gassy. DAMN IT.
* * *
Here is a question for the extravaganza! Are you planning on going to Maine this summer for your annual pilgrimage? I love stories about Maine! and Hi Robyn – How come you didn’t go to Maine this summer? My apologies in advance if you covered this in an earlier post. The summer’s not over! In the past, I’ve always gone to Maine in the middle or end of July because the spud and I needed to be back at the beginning of August because the schools down here are FUCKING NUTS and start at the beginning of August rather than the end of August/ beginning of September. This year, I don’t need to be back for anything, so I’ll be going to Maine at the middle of August instead. I haven’t been to Maine that late in the summer for years and years, so I’m rather looking forward to it.
* * *
I really do think that you need to sell your canned beans, and label them “Gramma Robyn’s Mother-Fuckin’ Country-Made Beans.” The image on the label could be you, giving the finger. I’d buy them! My only issue with selling stuff that I’ve canned is that this is the first year I’ve ever canned anything in my entire life, so how do I know that come December the jars won’t all spontaneously develop botulism and kill everyone in the house in our sleep? I don’t. Also, it’s been suggested that I sell jars of beans online, but my issue with that is that I’m sure there are some sort of health department guidelines when you make food in your house to sell, and I don’t particularly want an inspector stopping by to, uh, inspect with Sugarbutt lounging about on the counters licking his ass. Also, there’s the issue of trying to ship glass containers, the very idea of which gives me nightmares. It’s a good idea, though!
* * *
That bucket of green beans looks like an entire year supply in itself. Do you plan on giving any of this stuff away? I’m thinking Christmas presents! That bucket of green beans gave me 15 pints yesterday. Fred and I just had a discussion on how much I should can of the green beans before we start giving them away, and it’s his opinion that we should can everything this year – it being our canning year – and see how many we end up eating. I think he’s stark raving nuts, but I’ll do it because I’m a sweet and obedient wife. In a couple of months when he opens his dresser drawer to find pints of green beans instead of clothes because there’s nowhere else to put them, I don’t want to hear any bitching.
* * *
Dear Robyn: I’m confused–do you actually eat the devil’s herb? Sincerely, Jane Cilantro – or, as we call it around here, “Jane”, given her love for the herb – is something I generally avoid. I can stand a little bit of it, but too much of it makes me gag. Fred, however, LURVES it, which is the only reason I put it in the salsa. Well that and the fact that I don’t eat the salsa anyway, I guess.
* * *
What recipe do you use for zucchini bread? I have been looking and can’t find it. Here it is! I make it without the frosting (though I do want to give the frosting a try at some point), and I like to add a cup of chocolate chips to it. It’s really good without the chocolate chips too.
* * *
I guess you aren’t interested in the Yankee Flipper? Check out the videos! I had never heard of the Yankee Flipper, but I can state that after checking out the site and the videos, I am DEFINITELY interested!
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Could you point me in the direction of the link to the pressure cooker you guys bought? I’m sure I saw it, but can’t find it now. My MIL came to town this past weekend with hers (kind of like this one) to show us how to can stuff (it wasn’t that scary – we just kept it at around 10 lbs while doing the green beans), so we need to get one of our own. Like you, I’m being sucked into this canning crap. It’s the All American Pressure Canner 10.5 quart 910. I should point out that I haven’t used the pressure canner nearly as often as I’ve used the water bath canners; in fact, I haven’t used the pressure canner since I discovered this recipe, which is how I’m processing all my green beans now. I highly recommend it. Also, if you don’t already have it, the Ball Blue Book is a must-have. It takes something that can be confusing and scary and makes it easy as pie.
* * *
It sure looks like every stink bug (other than the two legged, talking kind) I’ve ever seen. The heat, the humidity, the bugs, the rednecks – how does Alabama keep any population at all??? I suspect the short, mild winters are the ONLY reason anyone would look at some of these goddamn bugs and stay here. I, myself, stay here because this is where my husband is, and he stays here because this is where his high-paying job is. Also, he’s afraid that if he crosses the Mason-Dixon line he’ll turn into a block of ice.
* * *
It may be a squash bug. They look similar to stink bugs but they are longer. Check out your cukes/squash and zucchini real good. Under the leaves may be small red or brown eggs, depending on where they are in development. If it is those fuckers, sevin dust them to hell and hope for the best. Once I get them, I can never get rid of the bastards. It absolutely was a squash bug (I had no idea they got so damn big – the one we saw on the fence was at least three inches long), and by the time we realized that we had problems with bugs in the squash and zucchini, they’d done too much damage to come back from. Fred ripped up the squash and zucchini plants a couple of days ago, but not to worry – he’s planted another row of them over where the corn used to be. He sprayed preventatively against the damn things, so hopefully we won’t have a problem with the second planting.
* * *
Can someone explain to me if a cat that just has kittens is supposed to act like a total and complete asshole all the time? The kittens are a month old and this witch just runs around the house trying to literally kill people by tripping them to obtain the food they are carrying. I am feeding her like six times a day and she is not satisfied, and still skinny. I tried to be understanding because she has five babies hanging off her tits…. but there is a limit to the amount of meowing I can deal with… brink of insanity here! Robyn, oh mighty cat guru… help? I’d say that instead of feeding her several times a day, you should just make food available to her constantly so she can eat whenever she wants. Momma kitties are hungry ’cause they’re feeding a bunch of little parasites who need roughly 63 billion calories every ten minutes to grow. If it’s possible to put a food dish in a place where only Momma Kitty can get to it, and keep it filled to the top, I bet that’d help. She might still try to get the food you’re carrying, but it’s certainly worth a try! Also, Carol – WE NEED MORE KITTEN PICS. You’re slacking, woman!
* * *
Have you thought about dehydrating some of the tomato slices? Does that work? this company sells them – maybe something else, less labor intensive to do w/ some of the tomatoes? I’ve been dehydrating a large number of the cherry tomatoes Fred’s bringing to me, and I do intend to do the same with regular tomatoes in the future.
* * *
(Not to poke the ire, but how many fucking tomato/tomato by-products can you two eat in one year? Christ almighty, I love tomatoes and still can’t see consuming that many. Donate to local food bank or women’s shelter. It’ll do the ‘tomato-loving motherfucker’s karma good.) We’re not even close to the point where we need to get rid of the tomatoes yet, woman! We only have ten quarts of canned tomatoes and one quart of frozen tomato sauce. I still need to make a bunch of salsa to can, Fred wants more canned tomatoes, I want to give making ketchup a try, and I want to make a bunch more tomato sauce, too. Then I’m going to dehydrate a ton of tomatoes and freeze them, and then – MAYBE – I’ll start thinking about donating them. By that point, no doubt, everyone else with a garden will be donating and the shelters will be saying “Tomatoes? Um, NO THANKS. All full up!”
* * *
Robyn, I bought okra the other day (for the first time ever) and put them in a stir fry. It wasn’t bad, but if I were to cut them like you did, and set them out to dry, would the … slimey-ness go away? I can’t say I enjoyed the mucous factor of my dinner. It seems to be the cooking that really brings out the slime – that mucous factor is my favorite thing! You can eat okra raw without slime, but otherwise you’re going to get slime. You could try oven-frying them (I use my favorite oven-frying recipe with whole okra, and it’s been working well); you can just pop the whole thing in your mouth, and the slime factor is low. Anyone got non-slimy okra recipes? Share them in the comments!
* * *
Damn – you wasted no time clearing out Spud’s room! Where’s she supposed to sleep when she comes to visit? In the guest bedroom, of course! That’s where guests sleep, after all. Of course I wasted no time clearing out her room – everything she wanted, she either took with her or carted out to the garage to store. The stuff left behind is stuff she doesn’t want anymore. Was I supposed to keep her room the way it was so I could go up there and stare at all the crap she didn’t want, fool?
* * *
Did you guys eat this many vegetables in your city life? Do you think you’ll ever get sick of eating them? You two must be loaded (or unloaded) with fibery goodness! We did eat a lot of vegetables in our city (suburban, really) life, but nothing nearing what we’re eating now. One day last week Fred had green tomato chili for lunch with a side of ratatouille, and said “I hope I don’t ever get tired of our vegetables!” I looked at the mantel covered with canned green beans, corn, and tomatoes, and said “I hope you don’t, either.” Tonight for dinner, we’re having eggplant parmigiana, tomato and mozzarella salad, and oven-fried squash and zucchini. There’s no protein there, but it’ll certainly clear out our digestive systems!
* * *
If you liked the juice box comment, you’ll love this…I was talking on the phone this morning and my friend said to “put that in your juice box and suck it!”…I laughed so hard I dropped the phone! HEE!
* * *
For some reason, every recipe I see that requires zucchini, I think of you! I don’t know if you eat a lot of pasta but I made a pasta dish last night that was so easy. All you have to do is fry some chopped garlic (about 2 cloves) in some butter & oil for a minute or so and then add 2 or 3 grated/shredded zucchinis. Cook for about 2 mins and toss with hot pasta and sprinkle with parmesan cheese – that’s it. SO, SO GOOD. I guess it would work with patty pan squash too… I can’t even imagine why zucchini would make you think of me. It’s not like I’ve been talking about how much zucchini… oh. Well, never mind. Actually, we have no zucchini at the moment, but I’m printing out this recipe for when we’ve got them again. It sounds really good! I don’t eat a lot of pasta, but I do like it from time to time.
* * *
Christineq, if Robyn allows it, would you be willing to publish your grandma’s recipe for watermelon rind pickle? Sounds great. Thanks to both of you. I second that – Christineq, if you’re willing to share, I’d LOVE to see your grandma’s watermelon rind pickle recipe! For the record, if anyone ever wants to share a recipe in the comments, feel absolutely free to do so. God knows I’m always on the lookout for an interesting and easy recipe!
* * *
Do you know of any rescue groups in the Birmingham area? I’ve had several people try to dump leave cats with me and wanted to give them an alternative to the local kill shelters, but didn’t have any luck finding a group. When we lived in MA there were cat rescue groups on every corner. (Catpack.org) Not so in the south it seems. Save Our Strays is a non-profit no-kill organization in Birmingham. It couldn’t hurt to start with them!
* * *
I have a really easy recipe for a short term fridge bread and butter pickle. The cucumbers stay crunchy and taste very good. They’re also very good out of the freezer 6 months later. I’m definitely going to give this a try – we just got our first cucumber yesterday!
* * *
I’m so jealous of your garden. Although I am not jealous of the amount of time required to maintain it! I was wondering if you have or are going to try growing any fruit. We’ve got peach, apple, and plum trees planted, but due to the late frost we had this spring, they won’t be bearing fruit this year – hopefully next year! We did have a couple of blueberry bushes planted, but they dried up and died, which is a bummer. I love the hell out of blueberries!
* * *
Re: the cicada – HOLY CRAP – is that thing as big as it appears? They’re about three inches long. Cicadas are gentle peace-loving creatures who only LOOK like they want to chew your face off. Why, just yesterday Mister Boogers was romping about chasing a cicada, and I could swear the cicada was enjoying it… Hmm. I don’t think I’ve seen Mister Boogers since then, though I seem to recall hearing a cry of pain right around the same time… (I kid. Mister Boogers is sleeping hatefully on my desk as I type, waking occasionally to give me hate-filled glances.)
* * *
Since you have lost so much weight, have you had to adjust your thyroid meds? Actually, no. I have my thyroid levels checked every six months and they’re staying where they need to be, with no medication adjustment at all.
* * *
Whatever happened to Moira? I remember you always talked about her way back in the day and now, nothing. She just kind of disappeared, the way online friends sometimes do. We emailed pretty regularly, and then, nothing. Moira if you’re out there, let me know how you’re doing!
* * *
My question, did you plant cabbage, potatoes or sweet potatoes? I notice in your recipes that you like them. No cabbage or potatoes this year – we’re (I should say, I’m) talking about putting a small potato field out behind the chicken yard (where the pond used to be) next year, but we’ll see. I’d like a head or two of cabbage next year, too, if I can talk Fred into it. We have one sweet potato vine growing and it seems very, very happy, but as to whether or not we’ll actually get sweet potatoes from it, I don’t know yet.
* * *
Well, MY grandmother used to make tomato preserves. It might sound awful, but they were actually pretty tasty! If I run out of things to do with the tomatoes, I’ll definitely give preserves a try!
* * *
Here’s a good thing to do with all the zuke: Slice it really thin, salt with a seasoned salt and dry it in the dehydrator until crisp. You can use them like chips – they’re great with dips, especially hummus. This works w/ eggplant, too. When the zucchini starts coming in again, I’m definitely going to give this a try! I actually tried a few non-seasoned zucchini slices when I was dehydrating them, and they were pretty good. Kind of sweet.
* * *
Since you’re asking for questions, and since it’s gone now, what the hell was Fred driving before, or are you still not allowed to tell us? 😛 I’m still not allowed to say, because Fred’s a hateful, secret-keeping bastard. It was SUV-like, if that helps any.
* * *
Question for the question-answering extravaganza: I was reading some oooold Bitchypoo entries the other night. (I’m talking from the first week that you had your journal online.) You mentioned that a checkout lady at Wal-Mart was nice to the person in front of you and then suddenly was bitchy and wouldn’t look at you when you checked out. You wondered if it was because of your weight. Do you notice that people treat you totally different now that you’re thin? Are people nicer? Do you think that the Wal-Mart incident from way back when was because of your weight? I can’t say that I really notice people treating me any differently now that I’ve lost weight; I wonder in retrospect whether the woman treated me differently because of my weight, or just because she knew the woman ahead of me, or I reminded her of someone she didn’t like, or she thought my purse was ugly, or she thought my t-shirt was obnoxious, or she didn’t think I needed to be buying that.. whatever I was buying. Who the hell knows? I’ve always been very polite and smiley and always thank cashiers – I did it then, I do it know. Sometimes they respond by being polite and smiley in return; sometimes they look at me like they wish I’d fall off the face of the earth. I’ve stopped believing it has anything on earth to do with me and rather it has everything to do with them and what their day has been like and whatever’s going on in their life.
* * *
I recall before you had surgery that you wrote that you would never get to drink your favorite “Diet Coke” again. Is this still true? I’ve seen people who have had WLS drink soda’s–I think….so this just made me wonder. I have the occasional Diet Coke. Don’t look at me like that, y’all. I tried one last year, it was horrible, and then I tried it again (see: addict, behaviors of) and it was less horrible and then with each successive try, it was less horrible than the time before. I don’t like tea or any other noncarbonated beverage and sometimes a gal just needs to drink something with some taste. Shaddup.
* * *
Was the Spud sad to leave her job, friend and boyfriend? How’s she enjoying her new place so far? Not so much sad, I don’t think, as nervous and scared and excited. (She didn’t have a boyfriend when she left, by the way – she and her last boyfriend broke up sometime in April or May. He’s the boy who told the spud that Fred would never “make it” in the country. Also, he had flat, dead serial killer eyes. But he was nice!) She misses her friends, but not as much – according to her blog (no, I’m not linking it, stalkers) – as she thought she would. She’s adjusting well – applying for jobs and such and getting to know the area where she’s living now. Hopefully I’ll be able to see her in August and will report back on how she’s doing.
* * *
What do you like/dislike most about Fred, and what does he like/dislike most about you? Has this changed since you met? I like about Fred: He’s a smart motherfucker, he has a good sense of humor, and he has a great ass. I dislike about Fred: He’s too smart for his own good sometimes, he doesn’t always get when I’m kidding, and the farting. If I ask Fred to tell me what he likes/ dislikes about me, he’ll roll his eyes, so I’ll answer for him. Fred likes about me: My sense of humor, my occasional flashes of brilliance, and the way I’m so easily suckered into sharing his interests (aka: I am wishy-washy). Fred dislikes about me: My cluelessness about politics, my flightiness, and the farting. Good lord, the farting.
* * *
Where did you get the green/yellowish cat cube?? All I can find are red/blue ones and they clash horribly with my decor, but my little cat loves it so much I tolerate the ugly. I got it at Target!
* * *
What do Leprechauns bring you? They bring ME joy. I feel very joyful when I see them, you brat. (Heh)
* * *
How nice it is to do nothing and then rest afterwards.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: And then he looked at ME, like I was the instigator or something! 2000: “Where’s my food?! Where’s my FOOD, bitch?! I need fat, I need salt, I need sugar, and GIVE IT TO ME NOW, or I’ll drive you completely insane!”]]>

7/19/07

by @ Thursday, July 19th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

* * * Man, I hit the ground running this morning; thank god I need to update so I can sit on my ass for a little while! I got up at 6:30 because Fred’s taken today and tomorrow off from work, and he wanted to run to Lowe’s and the Co-Op to get a bunch of stuff. Since I needed a couple of bird feeders, I wanted to go with him, and because the earlier you go to places like Lowe’s the less people there are, he wanted to get there right after 7:00. On a side note, I needed a couple of bird feeders because the FUCKING SQUIRRELS figured out that they could chew the plastic hook off the top of the bird feeder that’s been hanging outside the computer room door for months now. I have no issues with squirrels eating out of the bird feeders – I know some people hate them, but I think they’re amusing to watch, especially when they hang upside down and cram as much in their faces as they can before they go scampering off. Anyway, they figured out that they could chew the plastic hook off the top of the (plastic) bird feeder and the bird feeder would fall to the ground, scattering seed and nuts everywhere, and they wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of hanging from their back feet to get to the food. I didn’t realize, of course, that they’d chewed the plastic hook off the top; I thought there’d been an issue with too much weight on the feeder and the hook (or rather, the part where the hook goes through, really) had broken. So I went out to K-Mart (did you even know K-Mart still existed? I did not.) and bought another bird feeder of the same kind, and a different bird feeder that I thought was pretty, and that held more bird seed. I hung the pretty feeder outside the computer room window and the plastic lantern-type (the exact same kind that had been hanging outside the computer room window) from the pecan tree out toward the back forty, and thought no more of it. Until the next day when I looked out the window and saw that the goddamn squirrels had figured out how to get the top off the pretty bird feeder, which made it tilt to the side, spilling seed and nuts all over the goddamn ground. Even though there was a lock-type thingy on the top that should have made it impossible, apparently the country squirrels (now with more salt!) are Einsteins and little things like locks on the top of bird feeders don’t even slow the motherfuckers down. And then I looked toward the pecan tree and saw that the lantern bird feeder I’d hung out there was laying on the ground and covered in cardinals, bluejays, and assorted other birds. When I went out to see what the fuck was going on, I found that the hook at the top of the feeder had been chewed off. Goddamn squirrels. So I needed to go to Lowe’s with Fred to get feeders that squirrels couldn’t get the top off of or chew the hook off of. I got a couple of nice feeders, and as of two hours after I hung them up, they’re still in one piece. After I filled and put up the bird feeders, I went around and cleaned out and refilled the bird baths and cat water bowl (when I run the water over by the garage, Newt loves to sit and watch the water trickle down the driveway. It’s apparently quite fascinating.), gathered up trash, emptied, cleaned, and refilled the litter box in the foster kitten room AND the litter box in the laundry room, carted all the dirty litter to the trash can, which I had to roll to the end of the driveway, it being trash day, and then back inside to clean up the kitchen, start some laundry, and then remember I’d locked Tommy in the foster kitten room (when I was coming out, he ran in and wouldn’t be shooed back out of the room so I yelled “Fine, motherfucker, you stay in there!” and shut the door) so had to go up and make sure no one was dead, shooed Tommy out of the room, and was just sitting down to check my email and start an entry when Fred called (he’d left earlier for a doctor appointment) and asked if I wanted to go to Nearville for breakfast. The restaurant we went to apparently doesn’t serve breakfast during the week – it’s a buffet place – so we drove around for a little while until they opened for lunch, and had a yummy breakfast/ lunch at 10:45. By the time we left half an hour later, we were the youngest people in the restaurant by about 150 years. And now we’re home, and I’m sleepy because I had too many carbs, but I must not sleep because that motherfucker I’m married to went out and picked green beans last night. And in three hours of snapping them last night, I only got a little over half of them snapped. So I’ve got to snap the rest, then can the fuckers. The best part of this is knowing that he didn’t think we were going to have “enough” green beans canned, so he planted an entire second row of the goddamn things.

* * *
I made salsa for Fred last night – a bunch of tomatoes, three jalapenos, a huge onion, a couple of green peppers, fresh cilantro, all chopped and stirred together, salt, and a drizzle of lime. He pronounced it “very, very good”, but since I don’t like green peppers (or jalapenos, really) I’ll have to take his word for it. I did try some, but it was too hot for me. I said “If it weren’t for the peppers and cilantro, it’d be really good.” and he said “Then it would just be tomatoes and onion!” and I said “Exactly. That sounds heavenly.”
* * *
So, we’ve let Tommy in to hang out with the kittens a few times, and it seems to go well. It’s hilarious to see him amongst them, because he’s like Godzilla, he’s so much bigger than they are. They’re absolutely fascinated by him – even Maryanne, who hisses and hisses and hisses at him – and follow him around and sniff at him and just sit and stare at him. It’s seriously cute. Maryanne has a hissy fit. Tommy does not care. :sniff::sniff::sniff::SNIFF::SNIFF::SNIFF:: Spanky gets fresh with Tommy. Tommy explains who the boss is. (Hint: it’s Tommy.) Tommy does not care for the taste of fresh kitten in the morning.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: OR I may have thought to myself, well, every author is entitled to a horrid piece of excrement or two. 2001: I’ve been packing in a desultory and lazy fashion this week, and have about half the upstairs done. 2000: I think if any of the kitties lose their mind and go on a human-throat-gnawing spree, it’ll be her. ]]>

7/18/07

by @ Wednesday, July 18th, 2007. Filed under Life

* * * I bought some extra mushrooms at the grocery store earlier this week – they were on sale – and I’ve got two trays of mushrooms dehydrating, and HOLY GOD do they stink. Not a pleasant stink, either. Like mud with a soupcon of cat poop stirred in for good measure.

* * *
So I never did mention it yesterday, what with the motherfucking internet being all intermittent and shit, but Fred did go ahead and buy the Hyundai Accent. It’s an adorable car and I like it a lot; it’s just very odd to see Fred driving a small car. When we went to the dealership to sign the paperwork and turn over the keys to Fred’s old car, I drove a sky blue Accent. I liked it a lot and Fred was okay with the idea of trading my car in for that one, but in the end I decided to be an adult and ignore the “Want! Want! Want!” screams of my id and decided to keep the car I have. Being an adult SUCKS sometimes, for the record. It just would be idiotic at this point, when we’re trying to replenish our savings – unnervingly depleted by the months of paying two mortgages, redo this house, and insure a teenage driver – to add a car payment to the monthly bills. The Reno’s paid off, and though I’m sure they’d give me a good price for the trade-in, it wouldn’t cover the entire price of the new car. Besides, it’s not like I commute hours every day or anything, I don’t spend all that much time in the car, so it’s not necessary to love it. I can deal with it for a few more years. Who knows what adorable little cars they’ll come out with in the next few years after all, right? It’s funny to see my car and Fred’s sitting in the driveway, side by side. His is narrower and taller, mine’s shorter and wider. “My car has child-bearing hips,” I told him. He thinks that’s one of the funnier things I’ve said lately.
* * *
The other thing I said lately that still cracks him up (though I can’t take credit for it – I read it somewhere (I don’t remember where) and just repeated it to him) regards the new Holly Hunter series, Saving Grace. “Someone said it looks like Touched By a Cranky Angel,” I reported. Now every time we watch TNT and fast-forward through the commercials for Saving Grace, he laughs and repeats it. I love Holly Hunter – I’m looking forward to checking out the series. I’m also looking forward to Damages over on FX.
* * *
How did I not realize that the new Harry Potter was coming out this weekend? Books and DVDs almost always come out on Tuesdays, so that’s when I expected it to come out. I know there are spoilers on the internet about the book, so I’ve been careful in my surfing. I’ve actually seriously considered going off the grid until after I’ve read the book (it’ll be here Saturday, promises Amazon, and I intend to immediately sit down and read it so I don’t have to worry about getting spoilered), but that might be a bit over the top. Don’t any of you motherfuckers try to spoil it for me, or I’ll kick your asses.
* * *
WARNING: UGLY BUG PICTURES IN THIS SECTION; SKIP IT IF YOU’RE A SCAREDY CAT. Several of you have directed me to What’s That Bug, since I’ve been putting up so many bug pictures lately and demanding y’all tell me what the bug is. I tell you what, that’s a fascinating site, but if I spend too much time on it, my skin actually crawls right off my body and goes to find a more hospitable host who doesn’t spend time looking at creepy bug pictures. Last week I was going out to my car to run an errand, and I looked over at the fence as I walked by. There was a HUGE bug toward the bottom, attempting to climb the fence. It was there – though higher on the fence – when I got back, and it spent the entire afternoon climbing the fence. When Fred got home, I took him out to the fence and asked him what the hell what that bug was. He looked at it and said he thought it might be a stinkbug. And while we were standing there, the goddamn thing reached the top of the fence and FLEW RIGHT AT MY FACE. I ducked, covered, screamed in a hooting manner, and ran inside where Fred spent the next few minutes mocking me. Anyway, I got some pictures of it (before it flew at me with the intention of chewing my face off), and I have to say – it does resemble a stinkbug, but if it is a stinkbug, it’s the biggest goddamn stinkbug I’ve ever seen. I thought it might be a wheel bug, but it doesn’t have that distinctive “half wheel” thing on its back, so I don’t know and I’m not able to tell by the stinkbug pictures I see on What’s That Bug. What do y’all think?
* * *
A few days ago I was taking tomatoes out of a box, and I realized that one of the tomatoes had gotten overripe and in the process pooped its guts out all over the inside of the box. So I put the box on the side stoop with the intention of taking it over to the garage to store it until I got a chance to take boxes to the recycling center. Only I forgot that, country cat or city cat, they definitely have one thing in common. “I sure would like a nice air-conditioned home to live in, but that’s okay. I have a box. A box that’s almost big enough to lay comfortably in. I’m sure I’ll be fine out here with the bugs and the no food and everything.” “No, really. You run along and have a good time, running your errands in your little air-conditioned car. I’ll just stay here in my box and keep an eye on things. If I can squish myself down small enough, I might take a nap. You have fun. I’ll make sure no one steals YOUR house.”
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: If I were Jennifer Lopez, I would be VERY frightened at the thought of birthing an Affleck baby, if noggins like that run in the family. 2002: I mean, an online journal. Have you ever heard of such a silly thing? 2001: No entry. 2000: Okay, I just really don’t have anything to say today. ]]>

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