9/28/07

Do you and Fred still enjoy regular time on the front porch each evening as you did not long after the two of you moved in? OR has “farming” the crooked acres and canning it’s rewards taken up that time? We don’t actually spend much time on the front porch these days, I’m sad to say. The last time we were out there was the other night at bedtime, because Fred looked out and saw a bunch of cop cars parked along the road with their lights flashing, so we went out to see what was going on (just a license-and-insurance roadblock/ check, apparently). Before that, I can’t remember the last time we were out there! I find myself wanting to sit out on the patio in the evenings, but the table and chairs have chicken shit on them (grrr), so that doesn’t happen. Fred’s talking about doing a covered something-or-other over the cement pad – enclosed, so the chickens can’t get in, that is – so maybe this time next year I’ll be spending more time out there enjoying the weather!

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Ummm, Robyn – just FYI, nobody says “Hubba Hubba” anymore. I do. I think we should bring it back into common usage. Everyone, go forth and give me a “hubba hubba” in your blogs!
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Are any of your cats declawed? My two older cats are and my kitten scratches everything up like crazy. I don’t really want to get her declawed, but I don’t know what to do to stop the scratching. The other cats seem fine and are happy and excellent hunters, but it seems kinda cruel. I didn’t even have to answer this one, ’cause Carol said: Robyn uses SoftPaws for her cats instead of declawing. We had a set of kittens that were scratchers and we ordered the softpaws on Robyn’s referral. Awesome product. They are little rubber sleeves that fit over the claw and adhere with super glue.. they don’t hurt the cat and they cannot scratch you or the furniture. They stay on very well and are easy to put on.. just get the cat in a wrestling hold position and it does go easier if you have help while you are putting them on for someone to fill the tip with the glue (it comes with a thing that fits down inside the tip so the glue is a piece of cake to put in it. Not to mention they are safer, easier and more humane to use than declawing… and a whole lot less expensive if you ask me. (Thanks, Carol!) The cat we had when I was a kid (I think I was 13 or 14 when we got her) was declawed, and she was a strange cat, but we can’t blame that on the declawing – she was kept in a cage with a rabbit before we brought her home, so she apparently thought she was a bunny. Carol’s got it right – we use SoftPaws on Tommy and Sugarbutt, though we’ve gotten lax on that lately. Since they were little when we started, they’ll let us put the caps on their claws without too much fuss. They don’t LIKE it, but they’ll put up with it. You can get SoftPaws at most pet stores, but I think it’s quite a bit cheaper on eBay – search on SoftPaws or SoftClaws (they’re the same thing).
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I really liked Journeyman also, but did you notice that the sound was weird? During the scenes when he was in the past, the background music was louder than the voices of the actors and it was VERY annoying. At first I thought maybe my TV was messed up, but it happened continuously throughout the entire program! The scenes set in current time sounded fine, then the “journey” scenes were distorted. I even made my husband watch some of it just to make sure I wasn’t imagining it! Did anyone else notice that or am I some kinda freak? I absolutely noticed that; I was having the hardest time hearing what was going on. At one point we went back several times (it was when he came in with the shovel before he went outside, and he said something like “I’m not what you married” or “I’m not who you married” or something along those lines) and just couldn’t figure out what the hell he was saying. I told Fred that we should have watched with subtitles! I hope whatever the problem is is resolved before the next episode!
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I really liked Journeyman.. kind of reminded me of Quantum Leap, which I adored. They need to give us some explanation of why he’s traveling in time, though. He just woke up one day and now has the power to time travel? What the heck is up with that? I thought it was awesome, but I need to know WHY it is happening. I didn’t miss something, did I? Nope, I don’t think you missed anything – hopefully they’re going to explain it to us in future shows. Toward the beginning he had a headache, and I’m going to bet that has something to do with how/ why/ when he “leaps”.
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I love Lisa L[ampanelli]. She is so funny. Have you seen her stand up special where she’s dressed up in a June Cleaver dress? Pretty good stuff there. I haven’t seen her special, but I’ve added it to my Netflix queue. I think it’s no coincidence that the roasts we saw opened with Greg Giraldo and ended with Lisa Lampanelli – they were by far the strongest comedians at those roasts. And does Jeffrey Ross do anything but roasts? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him anywhere else!
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Life is DVR’d, KVille, and Cane so I haven’t watched those yet.. have you? We tried the first episode of K-Ville, and didn’t really care for it – which is too bad, ’cause we like Anthony Anderson a lot. We haven’t watched/ didn’t DVR Cane or Life, so let me know if I should be watching them!
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If we were planning a trip to Maine/New England, say in a year or so … do you think September is a good time to go? Where would you suggest as the most “authentic” New England experience. This is probably the dumbest question, but is there a lobster season? I think September is a great time to go – the nights are cool, but the days are still fairly warm (in fact, it’s been in the 80s up there this week!). There are a lot of small Maine towns along Route 1 that are worth visiting – I would recommend Boothbay Harbor or Bar Harbor – find a little bed and breakfast to stay at, take a boat out for a tour of the islands, and poke around the shops. If you’re into hiking, you might want to check out Acadia National Park. I haven’t been up that way in years, but I understand it’s a beautiful area. If you don’t want to go that far north, you could stay in the Portland area – Cape Elizabeth seems to be a really pretty area. I know I have readers in and around Maine – what do y’all recommend? As for a lobster season, I’ve always heard that they’re best after Labor Day. Whether they’re actually best after Labor Day or it’s just that there’s more lobster available since tourist season is over, I’m not sure!
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I have never seen a black widow up close until y’all started finding them (and photographing them–thanks so much for the nightmares lol). Are they common in Alabama? Yeah, they’re pretty common. They like to hide under and around things, so a few weeks ago when Fred lifted up a piece of wood he expected to see at least one. If I never see another one in the house again, though, it’ll be too soon!
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Have you guys ever thought about setting up a web cam in the kitty room so we can tune in and watch them run around and play? That’s one of the things we talk about every now and then – along with a chicken cam and a front porch cam – but have never taken any steps to actually do. I think a kitten cam would be way popular, and I’d love to do it!
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I have a question… have you ever been offered to take your journal “public” (ie, making money off of it in any way; writing for a for-profit site, etc?) I feel as if I have a good sense of why you wouldn’t want to (and I’m glad; I like reading about real people and not products themselves) but I’m just curious if you’ve ever received any offers. No, I’ve never received any offers, and I’m not interested in that, anyway. The way it stands now, I can write about what I want, slap up as many cat pictures as I want, and take the occasional impromptu week off. If I went public and had to answer to someone, I wouldn’t like that at all.
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What kind of person though would sign their child up for that show [Kid Nation]?! They paid them good money, obviously, but I’m not so sure that’s a wise parenting move. I hope they all get some good therapy after it’s done. Good question – I can’t imagine sending my kid off for more than a month, not knowing where she is or what she’s doing. On a side note, I’d kind of like to know what that kid Mike’s parents do for a living. Given his propensity for rah-rah speeches, I’m guessing there’s either a therapist or a motivational speaker in the house.
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I have a question for your next round … my cat recently got out of the house without anyone knowing (she goes out on the screened porch but I’m afraid to let her outside completely because we live in the country and I don’t want her getting hurt by some wild animal). Anyway, she must have been outside about an hour before we realized it. She came right back in but every since she has been constantly crying wanting to go back outside. I guess my question is will this eventually stop? I feel bad like I’m letting her miss out on something fun but I really want her to remain an indoor kitty. Thanks. Yeah, it’ll eventually stop. It’ll probably take some time – and you might be driven crazy in the meantime – but eventually she’ll forget she was ever outside. I recommend you invest in some ear plugs! 🙂
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I thort you weren’t supposed to use ammonia in a house with cats, because it would make them want to pee everywhere? Is that true? I’ve never heard that – but now that you say it, it kind of makes sense! Anyone ever had an issue with the smell of ammonia making cats pee? Our cats have never done that (as far as I know – and given the smell of cat pee, I think I’d notice. I hope I would!), thank god.
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I would imagine that as the days grow shorter, you will be using the light in the kitchen more, and thus be more visible standing at the sink looking out the window. Yeah, but we have blinds on those windows and we close them as soon as it gets dark out, so they won’t be able to see us. Besides, if it’s dark, I wouldn’t be looking out anyway, since I’d just see my own reflection in the window anyway.
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Is feeding eggs to chickens promoting cannibalism? haha I actually had this discussion with my sister the other night. It would be like humans eating their own eggs. We decided that you’d probably have to have about 20 human eggs to even see them – a good omelet would be, what, 100 human eggs? Human eggs are just too damn expensive, I bet.
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So, are you and Fred going to keep tryin’ for a rooster?! Pacer, we decided to let The Good Lawd bless us however He sees fit. I mean, sure it would be nice to have a rooster to dress up in overalls and play trucks with, but one must not question The Lawd. Besides, we love our Bitchez. A rooster’s a rooster ’til he takes him a wife, but a hen’s a hen all her life (and thus will remain true to her Momma and Daddy and not go running off for greener pastures), you know. (And the serious answer is that Fred wants to get a rooster so we can produce more chickens and raise them to eat, but I like the dynamics our Bitchez have going on right now, and I’ve always heard that roosters are assholes, and I don’t want some asshole chasing the Bitchez around trying to get some.)
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I once read somewhere that if you have a flock of chickens without a rooster, often times one of the hens will take on the role of a rooster, sometimes even stopping laying eggs. Do you think Frick might be doing the acting-rooster thing (except for the egg laying part)? I’ve read that, too! Or maybe Fred told me, I don’t remember. Frick could very well be doing the acting-rooster thing – he seems to keep an eye on the other chickens and acts protective if the situation calls for it. There’s a speck (we call the black and white chickens “specks”) who tells Frick how it is from time to time, and he just lets her have her way, like a good man.
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The grocery stores around here are beginning to offer certified humane eggs, but they sell for $2.99 a dozen, on sale. I’m only posting this part of a comment here to say that when I first read it, I thought it said “human eggs” and had to re-read it. I was going to say that $2.99 a dozen is an EXCELLENT deal on human eggs and you should stock up!
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Just curious if Brian reads your page? I don’t think he does, at least not on a regular basis. He knows it’s here, and he knows I write in it, but he’s a pretty busy kid, and daily entries about my fascinating life are probably a wee bit less fascinating to a 16 year-old boy. For the record, my entire family now knows about and visits my page from time to time, apparently.
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Just a quick check on e-bay showed that there are people selling jars of jalapeño jelly for $5, shipping and handling is about $5 so I think you’d have no problem selling them. Why don’t you get Fred to make up a little fruit/veg stand and put them out at the end of the driveway, do you think the honor system would work around there? The problem with trying to sell that stuff around here is that we’re in the country, and most people around here, if they want jalapeno jelly, make their own. And I think I mentioned that we don’t get a lot of through-traffic on this road, so people from other towns don’t go by here much. I did decide to make and sell some jars on eBay, so we’ll see how that goes (of course I’ll link when I’ve got them up for sale, in case anyone’s interested).
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You’re watching “Tell Me You Love Me”, right? Are those the most sex havingest motherfuckers you have ever seen? I mean seriously! Who has that much sex past the hormonal lust of young love? Honestly! I don’t even think it’s particularly hot sex, sometimes I just fast forward through it because watching balls flap around is so very unsexy. I do not know, honest to god, how men walk around with those things. It seems like they’d get in the way, doesn’t it? ANYWAY. I don’t know if it’s so much that they have a lot of sex as it is that the show seems bound and determined to show us every single time they get it on. Well, plus whatstheirnames, the sous chef and the teacher, are still kind of in young-love stage (or were), and the other two, the funny-looking chick (something about her face bugs me) and the guy who looks like he’s 12 (Palek and Carolyn? Maybe?) are trying to conceive, so they have a lot of “I’m ovulating!” sex. Oh, except for the sex they snuck off from the dinner party to have. Is it just me, or were they kind of loud? I was all “Shhhh! His Mom is going to HEAR you!” My favorite couple, by far, would have to be Katie and David (you know, the ones who aren’t doing it at all), because they break my heart every single show (so far). Ally Walker is gorgeous and I just like watching her.
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I have one of those ice cream makers, but have been disappointed with the results… Do you have a favorite recipe? After just a few batches of ice cream, I find I’m kind of ice cream’d out for the time being. We did figure out a pretty good recipe that we like – 4 bananas, 3 cups of whole milk, 1 cup of Splenda, 1 tsp of vanilla. Put it all in the blender, run it ’til it’s mostly smooth, then pour it in the ice cream maker, check it 20 – 25 minutes later, stick it in the freezer when it’s done. It’s really more ice milk than ice cream, but the ice cream we made following the recipe in the book (2 cups cream, 1 cup whole milk, sugar, vanilla) was way too rich and greasy. With the whole milk, splenda, and bananas, we get a flavor we like, and it makes a ton of ice cream. It melts a lot – A LOT – faster than the ice cream you buy in the store, but since I like my ice cream kind of liquidy anyway, I don’t mind.
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I just have to ask, about the thigh lift…. I ask because I have been thinking about getting one myself… and a fanny lift (I’ve lost 135 lbs so far and have about 30 more to go)… I also would like the body lift thing too, but the thighs,I just gotta have… so much sagging skin, even in um, ‘that’ area and it isn’t pleasant. I wonder why people aren’t happy with the thigh lift??? any info would be greatly appreciated… there are some days when all this skin gets to me… If I recall correctly, it’s because there’s so much movement in the area that there’s an issue with the incisions not healing well (anytime you move – walk from one room to another or even just from your bed to a chair – you have to move the area to get anywhere, and moving around messes with the healing process), and I think that can cause a lot of scarring, as well. Anyone out there had a thigh lift they were or weren’t happy with? Tell us about it in the comments!
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1. I love Charlaine Harris’ vampire series, it’s a lot of fun, but I also didn’t care for the last one as much as the others. I do, however, really recommend her new series (she’s written 2 books for it so far) the Harper Connelly series about a woman who’s psychically able to find dead bodies. I just glanced at Amazon and noticed a third one in this series (coming out September 25th). Yay! I actually just finished Grave Surprise the other night, and liked it a lot. I think I’m going to have to go out and buy An Ice Cold Grave soon, because I reallyreallyreally want to know what’s going to happen in Harper’s personal (romantic) life. 2. ie mentioned that she didn’t know where her cat goes all day. Here’s a web site where a guy attached a camera to his cat’s collar to take pictures throughout the day. Fascinating (at least I thought so). Very cool. I think Maxi and Newt need collar cameras!
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I have two kitties, mother (about 3 yo) and son (about 2y6mo). We suspect Mom was kicked out when she was pregnant (we rescued her from the park) and she remains extremely skittish. We can’t get her to the vet (I think the trauma of trying to actually get her there would do her in) and she’s very very skinny. So I have no idea if she has worms or what. I’m resigned to the fact that she’s not cuddly, but has taken to “deigning” to come inside twice a day to eat something. I have no idea where she goes all day. Oh hey, yeah so that was not a question at all! I guess it’s more of a “do you have any advice on handling her” sort of rambling. The only thing that comes to mind is drugging her food, knocking her out, and getting her to the vet, but I’m not sure how reasonable a suggestion that is! I think you’re right about the visit to the vet stressing her out too much. Will she let you pet her? I don’t know what to advise, honestly – I know there are readers out there who deal with feral cats. Suggestions? Second (legitimate question): I bought them a carpet scratchy post with enticing play toy on top of it and they have never shown the slightest interest in it. I think maybe they don’t know it’s ok for them to scratch on it. Any ideas on getting the idea through little kitty skulls? Are they interested in catnip? If so, maybe rub some catnip on the scratching post. Or if you feed them cat treats, leave some treats around the scratching post. You may have already done this, but if not – try moving the scratching post to an area where they like to hang out. And if the toy on top of the post has a bell in it, I’d recommend smacking it whenever you walk by, just to get their attention and maybe pique their interest. It may just be a matter of waiting until they decide they’re interested. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve brought home a toy or a kitty condo, waited a couple of months for the cats to show interest, decided they’re not interested, moved it, and had them act like it was the best! toy! ever! Gee we love this, Mom, where’d it COME from?!
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Do you have to pay an adoption fee when you end up keeping one of the fosters? I didn’t know if you’d get a break b/c of your dedicated years of being a foster family. We don’t have to, but we usually do. The adoption fee offsets the cost of the spaying/ neutering, ID chip, and all the shots and medication they’ve needed, and we can afford it, so we usually go ahead and pay it.
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Here is kind of a morbid question but hey I was wondering. Now that you and Fred are at your “forever” home will you set up an area to serve as a Pet Cemetery when your cats pass on? There is a commercial pet cemetery near the people one where my dad is buried. There was a man who wanted his dog buried with him in the people cemetery (I think he had saved the ashes in an urn when the dog died) and they would not allow it so he is buried with his dog in the pet cemetery. He is probably in better company there. You know, I haven’t thought about it at all. I think that chances are good we’ll probably go the cremation route and scatter their ashes – though when Tubby died, we had him cremated and buried him in the back yard at the old house (near the fence where he liked to hang out and peer through the hole into the back yard next door like some pervy little peeping Tubs), so… I don’t know! I suppose we could bury their ashes under our favorite tree in the back forty, or have a little graveyard with markers. We haven’t really discussed it, and hopefully we won’t have to think about it for years yet.
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Have you ever taken a Myers-Briggs type test (it’s the one with the four letters I/E N/S T/F J/P)? If so, what are you? I just went and took it – here – and it told me that I’m an ISFJ. I went and read the description of an ISFJ – here – and some of it seems right, and some of it not so much. ISFJs are often unappreciated, at work, home, and play. See, baby? I TELL YOU AND TELL YOU YOU DON’T APPRECIATE ME, AND NOW RANDOM TESTS ON THE INTERNET BACK ME UP!
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Ok-I’ll admit that I need to see the whole paper-towel-hanging thing. My 13 yr old “Puss” is constantly “over-peeing” his covered litterbox. It drives me nuts to empty it and find a huge puddle of pee to the side of the box. I often wonder if he piles up all the litter and then climbs to the top to pee! It’s a covered litter box, and I just put a piece of paper towel over the end, like such: (image) and then put the top on the litter box. Spanky pees up the back of the litter box, and the paper towel catches it so it doesn’t drip through onto the floor behind the litter box. Make sense?
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So, my wife and I had to cancel camping plans because of her foot and the fact that, well, she can’t do much while camping. We were thinking of heading south west, and perhaps picking up a kitten…who may be named after a character on a show with a ship that’s not the Love Boat (which turned 30 this year!). So whatchu think? I think you missed the part where we adopted her for our own selves, is what I think.
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It’s incredibly difficult to get the kittens to jump into this box and lay down. I have to actually bend down and put the box on the floor. God, I need a nap after all that hard work. Those are some awesome Crazy Eyes there on the left. “Lady, all I want to do is chew on your foot and maybe claw at your instep a little. I’m not going to make cute for the camera, so put me DOWN.” Bless those little bitty kittens. They’re awfully cute and entertaining and despite the fact that we shove pills down their throats in the morning and evening, they forgive easily. Fight! Fight! Talk about your come-hither looks! Such a pretty Eddie Dean. Stretch-and-yawn. I adore those stripes. ::thlurrrp:: ************************************** Is that a smug look, or what? Stinkerbelle seems to be finding her “voice” lately, god help us, and you can often hear her wandering through the house making bitchy little noises at the other cats. They’ve pretty much accepted her except for Sugarbutt, who always hisses at her, then she bitches at him, and sometimes she swats at him. She’s such a little bitch, but she cracks me up (I’m sure BECAUSE she’s such a little bitch). Full of the het.
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Previously 2006: YOU’RE WELCOME. 2005: Phear my l33t fotograffic skillz. 2004: Dear Stephen King: Stop defending what you did, and just write the goddamn story. 2003: Meet Gizmo. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry.]]>

9/27/07

* * * Jesus Christ, the Weeds theme song keeps bouncing around my head. MAKE IT STOP! I’ve adapted it to my particular circumstances, of course: Little kitties on my desk top, little kitties made of fur and hate, little kitties on the gatetop, little kitties, not the same. There’s a gray one and a black one and an orange one and a calico, and they’re all made out of fur and hate and they look not the same.

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Kid Nation spoilers in this section. Are y’all watching Kid Nation? Because I was a little leery of the show, but the first two episodes have convinced me that it’s a show worth watching. At the end of last week’s show when little Jimmy wanted to leave and people were all “Don’t go, Jimmy!”, I was yelling “Don’t pressure him! Let him leave if he wants to!”, and I’m glad he stood up to them and just went ahead and left. Spending that much time away from your home and family when you’re eight years old is a BIT much, I think. That girl Taylor, though, god help me. That child needs a good, hard smack upside her princessy little head. I’m sorry, but beauty queens don’t do dishes? Are you fucking kidding me? Though of course, PRINCESS didn’t come up with that attitude all on her own, so I think we all know we can blame the PARENTS for that bullshit. I really like Laurel and Sophia the most – they seem like pretty smart kids. What I like the most about the show is that no one gets voted off at the end. I don’t like that who’s-gonna-get-voted-off? stress on Survivor, and if they were voting kids off, I don’t think I could handle it. Fred declared last night that if a 15 year-old kid could kill a chicken, by god, HE could too! I’m not sure I believe that.
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We also watched Journeyman last night, and holy shit. That’s a good damn show! I hope it stays that good. We haven’t watched The Bionic Woman yet, but I suspect we’ll be doing that tonight before Survivor. I hope it’s good.
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This is stunningly accurate: The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test Your Score: 9 – the Peacemaker you chose BX – your Enneagram type is NINE (aka “The Mediator”) “I am at peace” Peacemakers are receptive, good-natured, and supportive. They seek union with others and the world around them. How to Get Along with Me * If you want me to do something, how you ask is important. I especially don’t like expectations or pressure. * I like to listen and to be of service, but don’t take advantage of this. * Listen until I finish speaking, even though I meander a bit. * Give me time to finish things and make decisions. It’s OK to nudge me gently and nonjudgmentally. * Ask me questions to help me get clear. * Tell me when you like how I look. I’m not averse to flattery. * Hug me, show physical affection. It opens me up to my feelings. * I like a good discussion but not a confrontation. * Let me know you like what I’ve done or said. * Laugh with me and share in my enjoyment of life. What I Like About Being a NINE * being nonjudgmental and accepting * caring for and being concerned about others * being able to relax and have a good time * knowing that most people enjoy my company; I’m easy to be around * my ability to see many different sides of an issue and to be a good mediator and facilitator * my heightened awareness of sensations, aesthetics, and the here and now * being able to go with the flow and feel one with the universe What’s Hard About Being a NINE * being judged and misunderstood for being placid and/or indecisive * being critical of myself for lacking initiative and discipline * being too sensitive to criticism; taking every raised eyebrow and twitch of the mouth personally * being confused about what I really want * caring too much about what others will think of me * not being listened to or taken seriously NINEs as Children Often * feel ignored and that their wants, opinions, and feelings are unimportant * tune out a lot, especially when others argue * are “good” children: deny anger or keep it to themselves NINEs as Parents * are supportive, kind, and warm * are sometimes overly permissive or nondirective (Take the test here) If you want me to do something, how you ask is important. I especially don’t like expectations or pressure. is so, so true. It can be easy to bulldoze me if you do it with a little finesse, but if I’m being pushed or bullied, you’re never ever going to get what you want from me. It surprises people sometimes, I think, that I can’t be pushed or bullied – I think I give the impression that I’m a total pushover.
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That second planting of corn? What a mistake. Someone told Fred that corn that comes ripe later in the summer tends to be buggy, and they were SO right. Fred picked corn yesterday and brought it in and left it on the kitchen counter. When I came downstairs and saw it there, I picked up an ear of corn, started husking it, and looked down to see a black widow charging across the counter at me. I slammed my hand down on it so fast that my mind was still saying “Is that a -?”; in fact, I slammed my hand down so hard that today it aches. God, I hate black widows. And how weird is it to have one on the corn? I was under the impression they liked to hide under things. I picked up all the corn, went out into the back yard, threw it all down on the ground in a very adult temper tantrum, then went to yell at Fred for almost killing me AND getting corn silk all over my goddamn floor. Once he was put in his place, I went over and picked up all the corn, and carried it to the table on the cement pad, and began shucking it. It was motherfucking Christmas time for those chickens. I spent the next half hour either picking bugs off the corn and feeding them to the chickens, or finding an ear of corn (I almost said “cob of corn” right there.) with too many bugs in it to save, so I’d toss it to the chickens. They were running around eating grubs and corn ’til they fell over in an uggggggh-I-ate-too-much heap. I ended up with a dozen or so ears of corn that were salvageable, but I don’t think we’re going to do a second planting next year.
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Over the past few months, I don’t think I’ve slept past 6:00 during the week more than a handful of times. For someone who has always adored her sleep, this is a little distressing. Lately, Fred wakes me up a few minutes before 6:00 so we can medicate the kittens before he leaves, then I usually clean out their litter boxes, then since I’m upstairs already, I clean out the litter box in the bathroom, THEN since I’m cleaning litter boxes anyway, I clean out the litter boxes in the laundry room, then run all the bags o’ poo out to the garage (there’s a garbage can in there). Sometimes I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t remember the last time I was actually able to. After a few minutes I give up and either read or find something else to do. On the weekends I sometimes sleep past 7, but oftentimes I don’t. God help me, I better not be turning into a morning person. I’m a night owl, damnit! Of course, I’m probably reeling around in a total daze these days, too, since the majority of the time I stay up ’til close to midnight. You’d think I’d be getting a ton of reading done, but you’d be wrong – I’m still not reading as much as I did before we bought this house, and I’m not sure why that is. I’m busy with canning and stuff like that, but that’s no excuse. I’ve got tons of books to read – I need to get reading!
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The kittens are doing well, still racing around like they’re on crack. Last night I took the kitchen scale and a bowl upstairs to weigh them and make sure I’m giving them the right dose of metronidazole, and I left the bowl in the room. At bedtime, when Fred and I went upstairs to hang out with them for a little while, he turned the bowl over on top of Susannah, and said she looked like a hermit crab, and then one single paw stretched out from under the bowl to grab at one of her brothers, and I laughed until I cried because she absolutely did look like a hermit crab. I’ll see if I can’t get some hermit kitten pictures later. “All right, all right, all RIGHT! I give up! You take the feather toy, it’s yours! Geez. You don’t gotta be so mean about it!” I love the stripes on this kitten. Sleepy girl. “This water tastes funny.” Brudderly love. *********************************** I am the meanest Momma in all the world. Twice today Sugarbutt was sitting in one of the cat beds on my desk (the one on the left, if you must know), and he sat up and started scratching his neck with his back paw, and so I reached over and pushed on him just a little to get his attention, and as I pushed, I said “STOP IT”, and both times I did it, I startled him, and he fell off the side of the desk and then ran off to lick the embarrassment off his tail. Stinkerbelle likes to sit and watch the hummingbirds flit back and forth to the feeder. Sometimes she loses it a little and stands on her back legs and smacks at the glass, and the hummingbird flies off and it drives her NUTS. “Ice cream meks me happy.”
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Previously 2006: Hey, we’ll only be living here for another six months or so. Let’s BURN THOSE BRIDGES! 2005: Did I bring “a book” with me? HELL NO I didn’t bring “a book” with me – I brought FIVE books with me. 2004: No offense to you stoners out there, but the Warrens totally look stereotypical stoners. 2003: No entry. 2002: I think I’m going to start calling him The Todd. 2001: Does that kid’s face just scream “dilemmanated”, or what? 2000: No entry. ]]>

9/26/07

cleaning stuff and rags is generally more work than I like to do. I have to say that it’s always more rewarding to clean when it makes a big difference. That is, cleaning the floors every week wouldn’t be nearly as cool as doing it every three or four months (I think the last time I did it was on Father’s Day – but it might have been Mother’s Day, I don’t remember for sure), because when you do it every few months the difference is visible and you (I) actually feel like you’re (I’m) accomplishing something. I’d rather clean a nastydirty, horribly neglected, filled-with-trash house than one that just needed some dusting and vacuuming. Is that weird? (I should point out that I don’t usually wait ’til things get nastydirty around here before I clean. I do clean before it gets to the point of filth – but it’s just not as satisfying.)

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While I was in Maine, Fred happened to come across the Comedy Central Roast of Flavor Flav, and he thought the opening comic was funny enough that he recorded it so I could watch it, too. A few weeks ago we watched it, and I thought the opening comic – Greg Giraldo – was funny enough that I did a Netflix search on him, and ended up putting the Pamela Anderson roast in my queue because it looked like such a trainwreck, and then stumbled across the Denis Leary roast, so put that in my queue as well. Last weekend, we watched both of the roasts, and they were polar opposites. The Pamela Anderson roast was totally trainwreck, with every comic mentioning her huge v@gina and Tommy Lee’s huge c0ck, Courtney Love made an ass out of herself, and it was just mostly annoying and not particularly amusing. Then we watched Denis Leary’s roast, and it was funny, it was WAY less mean-spirited, and it was pretty much what I wanted to see. During the Flavor Flav roast, the majority of the comics referred to Brigitte Nielsen’s huge v@gina and during the Pamela Anderson roast, they did the same about hers. So am I getting this right – if you have nothing of substance to mock about a woman, you talk about her huge v@gina? Is that how that works? Because really, that’s kind of boring. If you’ve got nothing of substance to mock, then don’t even try it. “Huge v@gina” is really only funny the first thirty times. Greg Giraldo and Lisa Lampanelli were funny, though. And for that matter, Carrot Top was funnier than I expected.
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Thank you, by the way, for all the suggestions y’all gave when I asked what I should plant outside the kitchen window to block the view from the kitchen window to the deck next door. We considered them all, and then we turned to the experts – Fred’s parents – and among their suggestions were butterfly bushes and rose of sharon bushes, and so we decided to go in that direction. Fred stopped on his way home and bought three butterfly bushes and two rose of sharons, and hopefully they’ll grow well and quickly so that the people next door won’t think I do nothing but stand at the sink and stare at them. Though to be honest, I’m not sure they can even see me standing there. When Fred was unloading the bushes from his car, he said he could barely see me standing there watching him like a stalker. I’ve been thinking about buying sheer curtains for the kitchen window (another good suggestion in my comments – did I mention y’all rock?), but I think a quick experiment is in order* to see if they can even SEE me standing there. It also might help to keep the blinds down – open, but down; I’ve been pulling them up partway because… I like seeing out! – to block the view of me standing there, looking all Mrs. Kravitz-y. I do need to get curtains for my bedroom windows, though. Sometimes the lights of cars going by shine in my windows, and it can be annoying at night. I’ll be in Huntsville later today, so I may check and see what Target’s got for curtains. Most likely what I’ll do is look, not see anything I like, and put it off for another six months. I’m a good procrastinator. *The experiment of which I speak would be Fred going out and seeing if he can see inside the house from a distance approximating where the deck next door is located. Though perhaps a more interesting experiment would be to stand nekkid in front of the window and see if the people next door cringe in horror.
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“Believe it or not! I’m walking on air! I never thought I could feel so free-hee-hee! Flying away! On a wing and a prayer! Who could it be?! Believe it or not it’s just meeeeeeeeeee!” “You just talk to the paw, you hear me? TALK TO THE PAW. I’ve been sitting in line waiting for the snuggles for A REALLY LONG TIME, and if you think you’re just going to scoot in line and be all ‘Oh, I’m so cute! I’m all orange and fluffy! Don’t you want to cuddle me?’, you are very mistaken, Mister. VERY mistaken. Those snuggles have MY name all over them, so you just back off!” “Is it snackin’ time yet?” The kittens are doing well. They run around and around and around that kitten room so hard, I swear one day they’re going to come right through the floor. And they’ve gotten MEAN in the last week. They used to just climb on me and cuddle and purr, and now I go in, and they’re biting my toes, they’re climbing up my back, they’re eating my hair. I swear, they scratch me so much with those sharp little claws, I walk out of there, I look like I’ve been in a knife fight. They’re lucky they’re cute and have big ol’ potbellies. Who can resist a kitten with a potbelly? Not I. *************************************** “Iiiiiiiiii am the Staaaaaaaank of constant sorrowwwwwwww I’ve seen no snuggles in my day. Iiiiiiiiii bid fareweeeeeeeell to that old Boogiiiiiiiiiiee The one who taaaaaaught me all ’bout rage.” (“I taught her allllllll ’bout that Boogie rage.”) *************************************** “Tommy-o? Wherefore art thou, my Tommy-o?” Please note that the peachy-pink on her ears matches the laundry room wall nicely. Cats should always complement the decor. It makes for a cozier home environment.
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Previously 2006: Sugarbutt lolled seductively on the counter, giving me his best “Hey Momma, what you got there for the Sugarman?” eyes. 2005: I’m sure I’ll get used to it, though, the way I got used to the neighborhood kids always running across our yard and always setting up shop in our driveway. 2004: No entry. 2003: Immediately, screaming like a little girl, Fred levitated across the room to the fireplace, where he began dancing a jig, slapping at his legs, and screaming intermittently. 2002: But it’s still tempting. 2001: J’accuse. 2000: No entry.]]>

9/25/07

Help Aaron get to Disneyland!!!!

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Someone please tell me how it is that this child right here: (Flickr) is now legally able to drive? He passed his driving test yesterday and is now a licensed driver. How is that possible? He’s still a BABY! Someone please stop the movement of time, would you? Congratulations, Brian!!!!!!!!!! (Note: It’s actually not his birthday – he got his license yesterday!!!)
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I forgot to link this in yesterday’s entry – this is the jalapeno jelly recipe I used. I thought about using Elise’s recipe (GOD I love that site. I printed out roughly 60,000 recipes from it last week), but I didn’t want to go out and buy apples to make the stuff, since I was really only making it to use up jalapenos and green peppers. As a side note, though the recipe doesn’t call for it, I think that next time I make a batch, I’ll skim the foamy stuff off the top before I add the pectin.
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Fred mentioned in my comments yesterday that we’d tried selling eggs over the weekend. We had about three dozen, and since that’s more than we’d use in a few days, (and the chickens are producing at a pretty steady pace at this point), he said “We should try to sell eggs!” and I said “Go for it, just make it so I don’t have to deal with strangers knocking on the door. I got shit to do.” So he put a “fresh eggs” sign out, put two cartons of eggs in a cooler (with ice) and a coffee can with a sign on it, saying “Fresh eggs, two dollars per dozen, please leave money in the can (honor system). Enjoy the eggs!”, and put them both on chairs in the front yard, not far from the “fresh eggs” sign. A couple of hours later, just as I accidentally squeezed tomato guts all over the front of my shirt, the doorbell rang. Cursing under my breath, I went to the front door. When I opened the door, the man standing there asked, “Do you have any eggs left?” “If there are any in the cooler, we do,” I said, and pointed at the cooler. “If there aren’t any there, then we’re all out.” He looked at the chairs in the front yard, shifted back and forth, and said “I… do I pay someone?” “Just leave the money in the can,” I said, and pointed to the can. He went off across the front yard, and his wife got out of the car parked in the driveway. They stood and regarded the fancy folding-chairs cooler-and-coffee-can setup, and I called Fred, who was out working on the shed. “I think someone’s buying eggs,” I said, retreating into the house a little so they wouldn’t see me watching them. “Are they buying both dozen?” Fred asked excitedly. “No, just one.” “Well, it’s a start.” No one stopped to buy any more eggs that day, so Fred brought them in and took the sign down. Early Sunday morning, sure that he’d catch the eye of local churchgoers, he put the sign out, and set the cooler and coffee can up in front of the front door. He also put two dozen eggs out there, since the girls had produced enough eggs to make another complete dozen. Not one single person stopped to buy eggs that day. Fred’s father thinks that no one’s interested in buying the eggs because the people who live around here think that’s too much to pay. I think he might be right, and I think in addition since we don’t get a lot of through traffic on our road – that is, not a lot of people who don’t live in the area pass down our road – the only people who see our signs are locals. That’s okay, though – I’ll freeze a dozen eggs, and tonight we’re having scrambled eggs. Later this week, we’ll have quiche. If it comes right down to it, we can cook the eggs and feed them back to the chickens. Strangely enough, they think scrambled eggs are the shit.
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Speaking of the chickens, remember Frick? Who Fred was dead certain was a rooster? He’s not. In fact, he lays a lovely light-blue egg. So far as we can tell at this point, they’re all girls. I still refer to Frick as “he”, though, because that’s a hard habit to break.
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I also forgot to write, yesterday, about the fact that we visited the dump Saturday. Well, I say “dump”, but it’s actually a “transfer station.” For those of you who don’t know what a transfer station is, it’s apparently a place where you show up, dump all your trash in a pile on the ground, and big trucks scoop it up and transfer it to a landfill somewhere. Anyway, Fred had a lot of stuff to get rid of – stuff that couldn’t go in the compost pile or in the trash for regular pickup – so he loaded up the bed of the truck and we went to the transfer station. Imagine if a very industrious person took all the milk in the world, put it in one location, and let it spoil. That’s exactly what the transfer station smelled like. It was worse for Fred, I imagine, since he had to actually get out and breathe the stank, whereas I stayed in the truck (only the driver of the vehicle was allowed to get out, according to the signs) and breathed a filtered version of the stank. I don’t know that that’s particularly a trip I want to make again, but it’s good to know where it is and how it works if we need to go again, I suppose. (Flickr)
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Look who’s back! At the pet store yesterday morning, I noticed that Billy Bumbler and Susannah had diarrhea. Since they’d been around the brown tabbies so much before they went to the pet store, I figured that chances were really good that they were struggling with giardia, too. Also, Billy’s eyes seemed to be getting red again, so he probably needed more eye ointment. I called the shelter manager (who is suffering from shingles, poor woman!) and let her know I was bringing them home, then boxed them up and did so. So far the brown tabbies seem to be accepting them, except for Roland, who keeps hissing at them. I imagine he’ll get over that in a few days. As soon as I got home, I started Susannah and Billy on metronidazole. If nothing else, I’m learning how to pill a cat on my own instead of having to wait ’til I have help. Don’t get me wrong – it’s easier with another person to hold the kitten, but if I have to, I can do it on my own. With these sweet little kittens, anyway. I have a feeling that I’d have more trouble with a more feral kitten (HELLEW, Stinkerbelle). With these two kittens and the three brown tabbies, it’s like a circus up in that room right now. They’re all just brimming over with energy, and if you’re in the front room you can hear them racing around up there. I’m not sure they ever sleep. ************************************************ “I ain’t skeered of you chickens.” Previously 2006: I blushed, even though he couldn’t see me, and no doubt as a GI he’s elbow-deep in shit the majority of the time. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: I’m sure my tendencies toward dumbassery has something to do with it. 2002: Sometimes when I’ve just finished doing my Firm tape, I feel like my brain is leaking out my ears. 2001: Maybe I should just shave my head. 2000: No entry.]]>

9/24/07

Keith and the Girl to listen on on my iPod this weekend – a weekend spent entirely in the damn kitchen – I might have gone a wee bit mad. Saturday, first thing, I made jalapeno jelly. Now, I know that I’ve mentioned many times that I don’t like jalapenos and I don’t like green peppers, and this jalapeno jelly has three green (bell) peppers in it and seven jalapenos. I made the jelly – it’s a fairly easy recipe – and I processed it in a water bath canner, and when the jars were cooling on the table, Fred could wait no longer, and he demanded that we open a jar, so we did. He tried a spoonful and made a considering face. “The vinegar gives it a zing,” he said. “Here, try it!” Reluctantly, I gave it a try, and I LOVED it. I got out the Ritz crackers and ate several of them with jalapeno jelly on top, and finally had to leave the kitchen lest I eat every last bit of the jar of jelly. We ended up with a dozen jelly jars of the stuff, and Saturday night talked about making a few more batches and selling ’em on eBay, but an in-depth discussion of the cost of buying jars and pectin and having to ship stuff showed that people would have to pay something like $10 per jar (including shipping) just to cover the costs of buying all the supplies, and that’s a lot to ask for a jelly jar of jalapeno jelly, so I don’t think we’re going to. (Flickr) Also on Saturday, I finally got around to adding vinegar to the habanero hot sauce, and Fred tested it, exclaimed “Now THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about!” and proclaimed it a success. We have – I shit you not – 26 habaneros in the refrigerator, and we talked about making and selling habanero hot sauce, but it’s another case of having to charge too much just to recoup the cost of making the stuff, so I don’t see that happening, either. I’m amazed at how many peppers are still coming in. I thought peppers really liked it hot, and it’s cooled down a bit lately, but the peppers are coming in like crazy. What else did I do on Saturday? Oh, right – I blanched and peeled a big-ass box of tomatoes (bought at a local produce stand, because our tomatoes are done for the year) and then let them simmer for several hours to make tomato sauce. I peeled and cored a big bag of apples – also bought at the produce stand – and made apple sauce. At some point in there, I threw together what we’ve taken to calling Tex-Mex for dinner, and I washed approximately one hundred and forty-three thousand dishes, wiped down the counter a thousand times, and yelled at Spot to go away ’cause I didn’t have any goddamn food for him. After dinner, I made a batch of ice cream with our new ice cream maker. We had banana ice cream (I made vanilla ice cream and added three ripe liquified bananas to it) and it was pretty good, but both Fred and I agreed that it was a little too greasy and in the future I think we’re going to try frozen yogurt instead, since that’s what we’re used to. Sunday I hit the ground running, taking my shower as soon as I got up, scooping out the litter boxes, and giving the kittens their medication (more on that in the next section), so I could get started on the shit I needed to get done in the kitchen. Once the usual morning chores were done (and the first load of laundry was washing), I chopped up cucumbers and green peppers and onion to make sweet pickle relish. I think I mentioned that Fred did a second planting of cucumbers, and the cucumbers started coming in with a vengeance, and I would surely like to go back a few months and kick my ASS for even suggesting that he do a second planting. What kind of fucking idiot AM I, anyway? (I informed him, yesterday, that he should feel free to pull up the cucumber plants, because I’ll shoot dead the next person who brings any cucumbers into my house.) Once the stuff for sweet pickle relish was chopped on left to soak, I got out the tomato sauce I’d made Saturday, put it on the stove, and threw a couple of packages of mushrooms, a few bay leaves, some Italian Seasoning, a couple of cans of tomato paste, and salt into the pot, and let it simmer for a few hours. I put the water bath canner on to boil, then went upstairs to put the kittens in the carrier, put them in the bathroom, and vacuumed the hell out of their room. I vacuumed it on Friday after two weeks of NOT vacuuming it, and I got up so much cat hair and dust and litter that I swore I’d never let it go that long again. Poor kittens, having to live in that filth. I mean, it wasn’t SO bad because I’d been getting the worst of it up with a hand vacuum, but a hand vacuum really can’t compare to a real vacuum. I put the kittens back in their room (when they exited the carrier, they did the something’s-different-what’s-different-something’s-different slink around the room, and I left them alone, and went off and vacuumed the rest of the house. I finished the vacuuming, saw that the water bath canner was pretty close to boiling, and put the applesauce on the stove to heat up. I ended up with one quart and one pint jar of applesauce, and given the cost of the apples, I’m thinking that applesauce from the store is cheaper. Also, less of a pain in the ass. (I’m going to make apple crisp and vanilla frozen yogurt for dessert next weekend. That’s my favorite thing about Fall, the apple crisp.) Once the applesauce was processing, I drained the cucumbers, etc for the sweet pickle relish, made that, and by the time the applesauce was done, the sweet pickle relish was made and in jars ready to be processed. Although the recipe told me I’d get about 8 half-pint jars of relish, I ended up with two pints of relish. How does that translate, I ask you? With the pickle relish processing, I decided the spaghetti sauce was ready to go, so put the pressure canner on to boil, did some dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, and then put the spaghetti sauce in jars, took the pickle relish out of the canner to cool, put the spaghetti sauce in the pressure canner to process, sliced eggplant into slices, sprinkled them with salt, and put them in the colander to drain. When the spaghetti sauce was done processing, I rinsed the eggplant off, breaded it, and put it in the oven to cook. When it was done, I let it cool off, bagged it up, and put it in the freezer. I feel like I never stopped doing shit this weekend, but I look in the refrigerator, and I want to shoot myself. Sitting there glaring expectantly is a metric ton of jalapenos, habaneros, and green peppers, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with the fucking things. (Flickr) (Flickr) Next year, I am told, he wants to “experiment” with “different peppers” and “different kinds of salsa”, and to that I say: you go right ahead, motherfucker. HAVE FUN.

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Why can’t cats just jump up and lay the fuck down when they want to lay up against you? Why do they have to stand with their ass in your face for twenty minutes before settling down?
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So, the brown tabbies – Roland, Eddie Dean, Jake – were supposed to go to the pet store on Friday. Friday morning I decided that there was no way they were going because they all had diarrhea. It had improved a few days after I picked them up on Saturday, then got worse. I let the shelter manager know they wouldn’t be going to the pet store, then called the vet to see if I could get an appointment. The woman I spoke to suggested that I just bring a fecal sample in rather than having to cart all the kittens up there, so I headed up to the kitten room with a snack (to stimulate their bowels, hopefully), and a disposable ziploc container. The snack worked quite well, and I scooped (gag) up a sample, put it in the bowl, and headed downstairs. Which is when the phone rang OF COURSE with Fred telling me that the guy who was scheduled to service our air conditioner unit had had a cancellation and was on the way. I ended up tossing the fecal sample in the trash, fuming, because the lady at the vet’s office had said that it needed to be from within the hour, and it’s a half-hour drive to the office. The air conditioner guy came, opened up the air conditioning unit, showed me the incredibly nasty amount of crap clogging up the filter, sprayed that stuff off the filter, checked the freon level, and was on his way. I headed up to the kitten room again, with another snack, another disposable ziploc container, and this time I had a spoon to hopefully catch the sample in, rather than having to scoop it up with the litter scoop. After the kittens finished their second snack of the day (and it not even 11:00 yet), I sat and cuddled with them, then started putting them in the litter box, hoping one of them would think “Huh. Litter box. Yeah, I suppose I could go.” Roland and Eddie Dean looked at me like “What did we do wrong? Why are you making us come in here? Why do you hate us, lady?”, but Jake gave me a considering look and then began to squat. And that spoon came in very handy in that it caught what I needed before it hit the litter, and I dropped it into the container, went downstairs, threw that spoon away (seriously, you thought I was going to keep it?), and headed for the vet’s. Whereupon I discovered that the three boys have giardia and too much of the bad bacteria in their little systems. I got some FortiFlora from the vet, stopped by the shelter to pick up some metronidazole for the kittens, and came home. So the boys will be here for another week or so, hopefully recovering from giardia, and I have to say, I’m not sad to see them staying for a little while. They’re awfully sweet. *************************************************** “How about now? Is it time for the snuggle now?” “NO.”
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Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: Of course, it’s not like she gets much of an example on how to socialize from Fred and Robyn The Cranky Shut-Ins. 2003: SHE HAD TO BE KIDDING BECAUSE NO ONE IS THAT STUPID. 2002: A lemon hat! So cute. 2001: Damn cats. 2000: No update.]]>

9/21/07

This blog is to help her get to Disneyland. You guys, how awesome would it be if we could help raise enough money to send Aaron to Disneyland? You realize that every little bit helps, I hope – if you can spare some money, pleasepleaseplease go donate!

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I sent out this card recently to someone, but I had to scan it first because it made me laugh (one of the things I like about going to Maine is that we almost always go to this little shop in Bath called Magnolia and they have THE most awesome cards.) Front: Inside: The Mik Wright cards always crack me UP. And on a side note, I just went over to Fred’s computer to scan that card because the printer/ scanner is hooked up to his computer (I have a black and white printer, which makes more sense, because I print out WAY more stuff than he does). I scanned the front and the inside, and used his Gmail account to send it to myself. As soon as I sent it to myself, I turned around, walked to my computer, sat down, clicked on Gmail… and was SURPRISED to see an email from him in my inbox. You know. The email I’d sent myself not ten seconds before? I think I need more sleep.
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It’s Friday, so let the comment-answering extravaganza begin! On November 10th we’ll be going to see Phantom of the Opera in Chicago. Will we come away from it singing like a bunch of loons? You very well might. I find that even if I see a musical that I don’t absolutely love, I still end up humming songs from it for a week or so afterward. I like Phantom of the Opera, but it’s not one of my favorites – my favorites being Jesus Christ Superstar and Les Miserables – but still I was all “Think of me! Think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbyyyyyyye!” all over the place after we saw it in Birmingham a few years ago. And I’ve only seen Hairspray twice – once on stage, once at the movies – but from time to time I’ll belt out a line or two of “Good Morning, Baltimooooooooooore!” Musicals fuck with your head, man. Speaking of Phantom, has Fred and/or you ever seen the youtube mixing of Phantom and Star Wars? I had already seen it, and I’m SURE Fred’s already seen it (he’s probably the one who sent me the link in the first place), but in the interest of sharing:
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I have not one but -two- indoor / outdoor thermometers. Actually more weather station type deals that have lots of other information on them as well. My house faces North so the back is on the South and it is always warmer as it gets full sun while the front is pretty much in the shade. I have one sensor north and the other south and it’s interesting to check the temperatures as they are almost never the same. Also another thing I have noticed is when the Weather Channel says it’s 101 my thermometer usually says 95 or 96. If mine says 100 or over it’s hot! Makes you wonder where they put the “official” thermometer. The thermometer I have is supposed to be expandable, so I could buy a couple more sensors for various outdoor spots, and I haven’t bought them yet – but I really want to! For one, how hot DOES it get in the garage during the day? And how much warmer IS it in the sun than in the shade? This is stuff I’m really interested in knowing!
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I’m so glad you spell out “Mister” in Mister Boogers because “Mr. Boogers” is just wrong, isn’t it? Still the best picture ever! I’d like to take credit for that, but a couple of years ago Fred insisted that I spell it out when referring to Mister Boogers, and now it just doesn’t look right to me otherwise!
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Warning: Weeds spoilers in this section. Questions for Friday (about “Weeds,” of course, because I can’t stop obsessing): Do you think Agent Wonder Bread is REALLY dead? And doesn’t that Deschanel sister (Zooey?) have some of the craziest twirling eyes ever? I suspect that we’re supposed to think he’s really dead, but he’ll pop back up mid-season to give us all a jolt. If he IS still alive, I really hope they show how the hell he got away – those guys really had him dead to rights, it would have taken some ninja moves on his part to get away. Martin Donovan has a little of the psycho about him, doesn’t he? (Also, I adore the nickname Agent Wonder Bread. It makes me giggle.) Speaking of Martin Donovan, am I the only one who sees the resemblance here? Zooey Deschanel has such crazy twirling eyes that it makes me a little dizzy to look at her. Crazy and twirly in a fun way, though. I bet she (or at least her character) would be fun to hang out with – you’d get into a lot of trouble, but MAN the stories you’d have afterward!
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I seem to remember you dealing with one of your cats who would always pee over the side of the litter box, and I’m facing the same problem now. Almost every day when I go in to scoop the litter, there is a puddle of pee outside of, or underneath, one or both of the litter boxes. The fuckers. 🙂 I’m thinking about getting a couple of boxes with covers on them (you know what I mean – they have the opening in the front, but the sides and back are solid), but wondered how you dealt with it. Do those work? Or did something else work for you? Spanky is a rat bastard who pees over the side of the litter box, but he’s a model And3rson cat in all other regards, so I let him live. For the longest time I was dealing with the issue by putting the litter box in a bigger plastic box. The bigger plastic box had a “doorway” cut into it so that the cats could get to the litter box. Every morning when I’d clean out the litter box, I’d spray cleaning stuff on the bottom of the bigger plastic box and wipe up the pee. This, as you can imagine, got kind of old, so I bought a big covered litter box. Spanky will pee up the back of the inside of the litter box (I have NO idea what his issue is, goddamn cat) and I was having a problem with the pee dripping through the crack where the top and bottom of the litter box meet until I thought to start laying a single sheet of paper towel there. Now, he pees up the back of the litter box, the paper towel absorbs it, no pee gets outside the litter box, and we’re all happy. I just throw the paper towel away when I clean out the litter box in the morning, and replace it. (If any of this doesn’t make sense, let me know and I’ll take pictures for you!)
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I don’t SKIP showers. I just don’t take them every day. Whatever you say, Stanky. I KID! Obviously, I kid. I don’t think I particularly need to take a shower every morning, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.
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Big Love spoilers in this section! So now that Big Love is over for the season, what do you think is going to happen in the next one? I am so hooked on that show, and I can’t wait! I asked my husband if he wanted more than one wife, and he gave me this look and said, “Enough problems come with having one wife. I don’t need any more!” Then, of course, he said he loves me. I don’t remember, but did you ever ask Fred his feelings on polygamy? Big Love has me SO STRESSED OUT! The first season, it was all about hush-hush, keep it quiet, no one can know we’re polygamists, don’t tell anyone! And now Barb’s running around telling every damn body about it, what the FUCK?! Isn’t it still supposed to be a secret? Bill still owns the big wholesome family store and if the news reports that he’s a polygamist, won’t his business suffer and won’t there be a problem? Why’s everyone running around spreading the news? That makes me nervous! God knows what the next season is going to bring – I want to see what happens with Barb’s kids, now that they’re old enough to make their own decisions. It’s obvious Barb doesn’t want her kids to live “The Principle”, but how does she handle the hypocrisy of that? I cannot EVEN believe Roman got arrested and that slimebag Alby got away with it. The actor who play Alby must be one hell of an actor, because he absolutely gives me the willies. I don’t know that I’ve ever asked Fred about his feelings on polygamy before, so I just now called and read your question to him. When I read what your husband said to you, he laughed and said “My feelings are: what HE said!” (And like most things, Fred doesn’t give a shit if other people practice it, but he’s not interested in it personally. Which is a good thing ’cause he knows I don’t share my toys well with others.)
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“the usual underwear.” Okay, this begs the question, do you change your underwear? The usual underwear implies that you have just one pair. (*seriously big grin!*) No, smartass, I just didn’t want to have to do the “beige panties and beige Olga’s Perfect Fit Bra” description because it is SO BORING. I think next time I’m going to claim to be wearing a Victoria’s Secret thong and Victoria’s Secret push-up bra (under my t-shirt and shorts) just to see if anyone’s paying attention.
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Is Fred jealous of Stinkerbelle’s apparent crush on Tommy? Since Fred was allowed to bring a new kitten into your household, will you be doing the same also? Billy Bumbler is so cute 😉 he looks like Sugarbutt. Fred’s not so much jealous of Stinkerbelle’s crush on Tommy – Tommy’s one of Fred favorites, too – as annoyed that he can’t get her to snuggle with him the way she snuggles – or wants to, anyway – with Tommy. She’s still so skittish that if we approach her, she’s just as apt to run away from us as let us pet her. If you approach her slowly enough, she’ll let you pet her, and might even insist that you scratch her ears, but that doesn’t happen a lot. Obviously she’s very much improved over how she was when we first got her, but I suspect that she’s always going to be skittish. Spot’s in his teen years, and he still runs off if we walk in his direction (unless, of course, we have food). There are no plans to bring another kitten into the house on a permanent basis, but I do like having the “Oh, you HAD to have Stinkerbelle!” to hold over Fred’s head in the future, in case I need it.
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Is it wrong to find a serial killer so attractive, do you think? Heh. Nah. Everyone loves a bad boy. At least he’s using his psychopathic nature for the common good!
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Do you give your cats baths? Why or why not? If so, how often do you bathe them? (Just curious) The only time I’ve – we’ve – ever given a cat a bath it’s because he got into something (usually of a fecal nature) and can’t seem to clean it off himself. Examples: Fancypants, being a long-hair, once got poop stuck in his fur, and we had to give him a bath (and that, believe you me, was a real TREAT). Sugarbutt, when he was a kitten and having his poop issues, had to have a bath almost every day for the first few weeks. Other than that, I don’t really remember any cat-bathing. I know there are people who bathe their cats on a regular basis, but I was always told that cats keep themselves clean and don’t need to be bathed. So far as I can tell, they do a pretty good job of keeping clean, so I’ve never felt the need to bathe them. Which is FINE with me – cats don’t much care for being bathed, surprisingly enough.
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I think you should put a couple of jars of your canned goods on Ebay! I am sure a couple of your readers would bid on them! I know I would – I would love some fresh canned salsa – or jalapeno or whatever you are willing to put on there!!!! Pleazze think about it?!?! The problem with selling canned goods on eBay is that (1) Then I have to worry about shipping glass jars through the mail, and doesn’t THAT sound like fun, (2) This is my first year of canning, and I fear that round about mid-December, everything I’ve canned will decide I did it WRONG and will begin botulism-izing, (3) I know Fred likes the salsa I make, but not everyone would, and (4) If I go selling that stuff on eBay, what are we supposed to eat this winter? (However, I might end up with so much jalapeno jelly that I’ll give a few jars away. Stay tuned on that.)
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Clearly you do not have enough cat beds in your house. I can still see several feet of free space in those pictures. Oh the shame you must feel! You have no idea how hard it is for me NOT to buy a couple more cat beds every single time I go into the pet store. I don’t because, honestly, there’s just nowhere else to put the damn things! I think we probably have at least two cat beds for every damn cat in the house, and the ungrateful bastards never have to go more than two feet to find a place to sleep.
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I have a question for your next question day. (I thought of it because you mentioned loose skin now that you’ve lost weight.) Are you going to have a tummy tuck or any other plastic surgery? The reason I wonder is because I had a tummy tuck almost a year ago and prior to that when I was doing all my research and looking at MILLIONS of before and after pictures, all I heard was how painful the surgery was going to be. I heard over and over that a tummy tuck was one of the most painful surgeries there is. I am absolutely going to get, at the very least, a tummy tuck. I’d prefer to actually get a lower-body lift (that’s where they cut all the way around so you end up with a sexy belt-like scar), but we’ll have to see how much that’ll cost versus the “after” shots I see. In addition to a tummy tuck (or lower body lift), I am absolutely going to get a breast lift (NOT implants – I’ve had big boobs my entire life and I am OVER them, thanks) and a chin.. tuck? Whatever the hell they have to do to get rid of my damn wattle, that’s what I want. Those are the plastic surgeries I’m absolutely going to be getting. In addition, I might get a thigh lift and an upper arm lift, but I don’t know that I’ve heard one single person say that they were glad they got a thigh lift, so I’m not married to the idea. And while I’d like to get an upper arm lift, I’m not married to that, either. I don’t wear sleeveless shirts, and I doubt that even if I did have an upper arm lift I’d suddenly start, so why bother? We’ll see.
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Rescue Me spoilers in this section. In any event, anyone who loves him [Denis Leary] and that show [Rescue Me], is aces with me. So…what did you think of the season finale? These season finales are going to be the death of me. At least there was no cliff-hanger like in previous seasons, but seeing Tommy sitting at the ball game with his dead father made me tear up like a motherfucker.
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Dear Robyn, You never answer any of my questions and it’s starting to hurt my feelings. And don’t say it’s because I never submit any. That’s no excuse! Love, Catie And I was TOTALLY going to come up with answers to Catie’s unasked questions, but then Elayne jumped in with: Catie, Never fear, I will answer your questions! Yes, four, Nebraska, NEVER (you pervert), and orange. And really, what could I possibly add to that? I myself would have said Oklahoma, but that’s really a subjective question anyway, and there’s not really a wrong answer.
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Are you doing anything for Halloween? Do you celebrate it? What’s your favorite costume? I’m doing nothing for Halloween except buying candy, turning the front porch light on, and seeing if anyone shows up. There aren’t a lot of kids around here so I’m going to suspect that no one’s going to ring the doorbell, but we’ll see. My favorite Halloween costume would have to be one of these: That’s me on the left, the spud on the right. Oh, you know what? One year I celebrated Halloween by getting married, so you’d think that Halloween would be a big day o’ celebratin’ for us, but not so much. We’re boring stick-in-the-mud homebodies, so no big fancy dinners out or anything. I might get out of cooking that day, though, if I’m lucky!
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1. Have you read the new Charlaine Harris/ Sookie Stackhouse (too lazy to look up the title) book yet? If so what do you think of the series at this point? I just finished reading All Together Dead the other night, actually – stayed up ’til after 1 am to get to the end. I still like the series, but this last book (WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS) kind of tested me a bit. There are times when I couldn’t remember who the fuck was who; when there are so many characters in a book and it’s hard to keep them straight, it makes the story less enjoyable because you’re spending so much time trying to remember who’s who. And at this point, it seems like we’re headed for Sookie to become a vampire, maybe bit-by-bit but I think that’s going to be the final result. I will, of course, keep reading, because I want to know what happens! 2. You used to mention driving around to various stores a lot – Sam’s, etc. etc. Do you do less of that now that you are out in Smallville? I don’t really think I visit those stores any less. I still visit Target every Monday morning after my stint at the pet store, and I often end up stopping by there another time during the week. I still put off going to Sam’s until we’re completely out of something I need. The difference now is that I don’t run to Target at the drop of a hat – it’s more like “I have to go to the pet store, and I need this thing at Target, and since I’ll be going right by it, I should stop by the post office, and then I can swing by Publix and pick up this other thing and let me see if Kohl’s has that thing I was thinking about getting…” and so on. So no more quick runs to Target, but I don’t think I’m there any less than I ever was. In fact, I need to run to either Kohl’s or Target later because I need to get a blender, and since I’m headed out that way, I might as well swing by the pet store and see who – if anyone – has been adopted, and pick up some cat food because we’re almost out, and I need to pick up cat snacks while I’m at it, and I might as well check the post office box while I’m at it. And that’s generally how it goes.
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Do you end up paying the vet bills for the foster kitties, or does the shelter do it? I admire you for taking in the homeless, but man, that’s gotta get expensive after awhile. The shelter pays the vet bills. Fred is a tolerant man, but if I approached him with the idea of not only bringing foster kittens into the house but also paying their vet bills, I suspect he’d have me committed. Before any shelter cat is adopted out, it’s brought up to date on its shots, it’s spayed or neutered, and it has an ID chip implanted. In addition to that, it seems like 9/10s of all cats turned into the shelter have diarrhea and/ or goopy eyes, and so they need to be treated for that. The adoption fee for the cats is $100, and when I was at the pet store leaving Jake, Roland, and Eddie Dean (last week, before they developed diarrhea and had to come back here), a woman asked how much the adoption fee was. When I told her it was $100, she said “And what does that include?” I said “They’re spayed or neutered, up to date on their shots, and have an ID chip.” She looked at me as if to say “And what else?”, like she thought maybe there was a free year of cat food thrown in for that $100, and I wanted to snap “It includes the CAT, lady! You get a healthy cat who won’t birth you a litter of kittens and if it runs away and someone finds it, they’ll call you! What more do you want for $100?”, but I just smiled and went back to what I was doing. The $100 adoption fee offsets the cost of all that, but oftentimes I think it probably doesn’t come close to covering the costs of getting the cat healthy. The shelter relies on donations from individuals and businesses to help cover it the rest of the way. ************************************** Fightin’ siblings. Jake’s got the crazy eyes going on. He’s a total sweetheart (when he’s not biting my toes, that is). Trying his paws at mind control. I… want… to… give… him… snacks… Again with the crazy orangutan arms. Did I get a defective bunch of kittens? Eddie Dean, pretty boy. ************************************** Tommy tries out his Matrix moves. Four of the seven (nine).
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Previously 2006: Photographic proof that I met a (Not So)Scary Internet Person and lived to tell the tale! 2005: I mean, it’s not bad enough the man has road rage, he’s got to have fucking walking-through-the-house rage too? 2004: “No, this is real time!” Fred sighed. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Written by hand. 2000: No entry.]]>

9/20/07

This blog is to help her get to Disneyland. You guys, how awesome would it be if we could help raise enough money to send Aaron to Disneyland? You realize that every little bit helps, I hope – if you can spare some money, pleasepleaseplease go donate!

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Happy, happy birthday, Say!!!
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Tomorrow’s the weekly comment-answering extravaganza! Got a hot question? Ask it in the comments!
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Poor Sugarbutt. Sunday, his eyes were fine. Monday morning, Fred said “Would you look at Sugarbutt’s eyes and tell me if they look bad to you?” I looked, and yes – they were awful. I got a tube of Terramycin out of the drawer and we put ointment in his eyes, which he SO didn’t appreciate, and then spent half an hour cleaning his face. We put Terramycin in his eyes again when Fred got home, and again at bedtime. Sugarbutt’s eyes didn’t improve, so we moved on to the other ointment I had, and that didn’t seem to help, either, so I called and made an appointment at the vet’s. Come 10:00 yesterday morning, Sugarbutt just happened to be in the house, so I bent down to grab him, and something in his little brain connected the fact that I’d brought the cat carrier into the computer room with the fact that I was leaning down to grab him, and he ran off upstairs. Luckily, Sugarbutt might be pretty, but he’s not the brain trust of the And3rson cat community, so when I went into the kitchen and opened and closed the refrigerator a couple of times, he came running back in to see if maybe it might be Snack! Time!, and I grabbed him and popped him in the carrier. Oh, the look of betrayal he gave me! It’s enough to break a Momma’s heart. Except that I’m hard-hearted so I wasn’t too heartbroken. Besides, it’s not like I was throwing him in the carrier for the fun of it. He needed to go to the vet! The vet put drops in his eyes and shone a black light at his eyeballs to look for scratches (there were none), remarked that his nictating membrane was quite swollen and inflamed, and ultimately gave me ointment with a hydrocortisone, told me to stop giving him his twice-daily dose of chlorpheneramine (for his neck) for at least a week. Once his eyes are under control we can start back with the chlorphenwhatsis if we need to. Given that his neck is almost completely healed, I think we all know what the next seven days will bring: his eyes will clear up completely and he’ll start digging at his neck again, leading to a big, gaping wound that will need to be covered by a bandage. It’s a good thing he’s so cute. I guess no one told him that the “money pit” role was being played by Miz Poo in thishere household. *************************************************** The clock on my computer runs fast. I’ve reset it several times, but it always gets out of synch within a couple of weeks. I don’t know exactly how fast it’s running – ten minutes or so, I think – but I kind of like that it runs fast. Many times I’ll be sitting in front of the computer, look at the clock, think “Oh, it’s 10:00! I need to (whatever)!”, get up and do whatever, then go into another part of the house, do even more stuff, and then eventually look at the clock to find that… it’s not even 10:00 yet. It’s like my own little time machine – I’m in the computer room, I get up and go to another part of the house, and I get those ten-ish minutes that I just spent sitting on my ass aimlessly surfing back again! It’s a miracle! Part of the reason I don’t want to know exactly how fast the clock is, is because then I’d do the “It says 10:28, but it’s REALLY 10:16!” thing, and that’s just too goddamn much math and it would ruin the whole time machine thing. Let me have my dorky fantasies.
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*************************************************** Did I mention that I’m a dork? I know, probably you’re thinking to yourself in shock and dismay, Robyn? A dork? Unbelievable! But the older I get, the more I find that I really like to know what the temperature outside is. Is that weird? I mean, I ALWAYS want to know the outside temperature, every single morning. I check out weather.com first thing when I get up. What do I do with this fascinating information? Why… nothing. In fact, ten seconds after I’ve looked up the current temperature, I’ve most likely forgotten the number. So when I was in Maine and we were in LL Bean, I bought a handy thermometer that displays the inside AND outside temperatures (it came with a sensor for outside that I hung on a tree about twenty feet from the side door), and every morning when I get up – and various points through the day as well – I check the inside and outside temperature. Sometimes I have brilliant comments to share with the cats. “Hmm,” I say to Mister Boogers. “It’s almost 80 outside, but only 74 inside. Imagine that!” Says Mister Boogers: Life here at Crooked Acres? It’s fascinating and filled with excitement, every single moment of the day. You KNOW you wish you lived here! *************************************************** The kittehs sing the blues. I look at this picture, and I cannot stop laughing. What is up with those freakishly long orangutan arms? “I’ve got the I-needs-me-a-snuggle bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuues.” *************************************************** Fear him. *************************************************** Previously 2006: You really don’t want to fuck with the Plumbing Mafia. 2005: “GodDAMN you, Mister Boogers!” I yelled. 2004: “This book makes me want to have a baby!” I said to Fred when I was about halfway through the book. “Let’s have a baby!” 2003: No entry. 2002: Gag city. 2001: I think you know what I’m thinkin’. 2000: I’d like to return to my regularly scheduled life, please.]]>

9/19/07

This blog is to help her get to Disneyland. You guys, how fucking awesome would it be if we could help raise enough money to send Aaron to Disneyland? You realize that every little bit helps, I hope – if you can spare some money, pleasepleaseplease go donate!

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I got a text message with a picture from the spud late the other night. She went and had her hair cut for the first time in a long time, and wanted me to see how it looked. She’s always had really pretty curls, but tended to wear her hair pulled back so you couldn’t really see ’em. I like the way this cut really shows them off. She has such pretty hair, doesn’t she? (Still doing well, working two part-time jobs (having a hard time finding a full-time one right now), has a boyfriend.)
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First, a meme. Then the best picture ever taken on the face of this planet. (And for those of you who can’t see the pictures I’m uploading, a link to the same picture on Flickr underneath it.) THEN I’m going to go off and watch the second episode of Tell Me You Love Me. I watched the first episode and really liked it despite the rampant nudity – and my only gripe with the rampant nudity is the balls flying around. I understand now why they’ll show women naked all over the place and not men: it’s ’cause women don’t have BALLS FLYING AROUND. No one needs to see that, really. Anyway. I stole this meme from Kinzie a while back. 1. Where were you 1 hour ago? In the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher and fighting off the advances of Princess Stinkerbelle, who thinks that someone in the kitchen equals Snack! Time! 2. Who will your next kiss be with? Fred, or a cat, I’m sure. Probably one of those brown tabbies upstairs. 3. Do you kiss a lot of people? Just the one. 4. Are you wearing socks right now? I’m not, and my feet are cold. I’d turn around and put my slippers on, but I can’t be bothered. 5. When was the last time you went out of state? In August, when I went to Maine. 6. Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days? Nope, I haven’t been to the movies since I was in Maine. Fred’s not much of a moviegoer. 7. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water. 8. What are you wearing right now? An Oscar the Grouch “S is for Scram” t-shirt, gray cotton shorts, the usual underwear. 9. What was your last purchase? I bought some.. stuff… at Target yesterday. OKAY! Cat toys! I bought cat toys! I couldn’t help it, they were Fat Cat toys and the cats ADORE the Fat Cat stuff! 10. Last food you ate? Half a bagel with peanut butter last night at snack time. 11. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? The person who answered the phone at the vet clinic (Sugarbutt’s got red, weepy eyes (perhaps he’s just feeling Emo?) and terramycin and triple antibiotic didn’t help, so I think he needs to be seen. It’s always something with him.) 12. Have you bought any clothing items in the last week? Nope. I almost bought a yellow t-shirt at Target yesterday, but I have enough t-shirts, and I’m not buying anymore round-neck shirts. They annoy my wattle. 13. Do you have a pet? One or two. 14. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Well, this would be stretching “sporting event” quite a bit, but the other day I watched Ekaterina Gordeeva’s performance from Celebration of a Life on YouTube the other night. All these years later, it’s no less heartbreaking. 15. Are you a pirate? I have not yet attained the level of dorkitude that would allow me to answer “yes.” 16. If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be? Right where I am, actually. 17. What is the last thing you purchased online? Uh. Good lord, it’s been a while, I think. Let’s see… Oh, of course! The second season of Weeds, from iTunes. 18. One thing you hate about yourself? I’m a master procrastinator. Also, wishy-washy. Well, wishy-washy until I feel I’m being bullied, then I pick a stance and stick to it. 19. What’s your favorite soup? Homemade chicken and rice – but I’m not usually much of a soup fan. 20. Do you miss anyone? The spud! 21. Last play you saw? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a play, actually. Do musicals count? Because if so, it’d have to be Hairspray. 22. What are your plans for the day? Sugarbutt’s got an appointment at the vet’s at 10:30 and I need to run the stuff to the recycling center, but other than that, I have no real plans. I might chop and freeze the green peppers, and make a batch of jalapeno jelly (thanks, those of you who mentioned it. I’d forgotten I wanted to make some!), but then again I might put that off ’til tomorrow or this weekend. 24. Ever go to camp? I attended various day camps, but never sleepover camp. 25. Were you an honor roll student in school? Not in the least. 26. What do you know about the future? I try not to think about it too much. 27. Are you wearing any perfume or cologne? No, I didn’t put any on this morning. I tend not to, most of the time. 28. How is one to classify? However one wishes. 29. Do you have a tan? I do not. I’ve got plenty of freckles, though! 30. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I was 20. Hopefully the spud will be MUCH OLDER when she has hers. 31. Last person who made you cry? Margery Williams: Does it hurt?” asked Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real, you don’t mind being hurt.” “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?” “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” 2. Do you have any tattoos or piercings? My ears are pierced (given how long I tend to go between the times I bother to wear earrings, I can’t believe the holes haven’t grown closed). I don’t have a tattoo yet – but I intend to, one day. I suspect it will be cat-based. 32. Have you ever drank your soda from a straw? Yes. Is that a strange thing? And is that a grammatically correct question, up there? Because it seems like it’s not so much. 33. How do you like your soda? Sweet and fizzy, JUST LIKE AH LAHK MAH MEN. 34. Do you like hot sauce? Not at all. 35. Next time you’ll take a shower? Tomorrow morning. I shower every single morning; I can’t even remember the last time I skipped a shower. 37. What is your mood? Gassy. Is gassy a mood? 38. Are you someone’s best friend? I believe so. 39. What did you want for Valentine’s Day? Uh. Dinner out, probably. That’s what I usually want for any kind of occasion. 40. What are you doing right now? That’s a stupid question, and I refuse to answer it because the answer is OBVIOUS.
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The best picture ever taken on the face of this planet.
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Previously 2006: “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “That’s the monkey (ex-boyfriend) gave me. She can crap all over it if she wants.” 2005: We meet Sugarbutt, Tommy, and their siblings! 2004: No entry. 2003: Since he’s a year older than me, that’ll give me two years to theatrically take to my bed and waste away. Sounds about right. 2002: Obviously whoever lives at 308 belongs to the Bitchypoo “If I don’t know you, I ain’t answerin’ the door” school of thought. 2001: I hate you, Mr. Mailman. 2000: Only US Magazine would consider it newsworthy that Michael Douglas is changing diapers he hasn’t been wearing. ]]>

9/18/07

* * * When I was in Maine, I saw this card, and it made me laugh out loud, so I bought it: Front: Inside:

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The last several nights, after Fred goes off to bed, I’ve been settling down in my own bed with BobPod for a little quality one-on-one time. I finished the last half of Weeds Season 2, and it ended on such a cliffhanger that I got my laptop and watched the first episode of the new season. Might I say that it is utterly ridiculous that they bleeped all the bad language? For the love of god, they’re okay with people watching a show about a suburban mother who sells pot, but horrors! God forbid they hear the “f” the “s” the “gd” the “a” or the “p” words! Also, I object. I OBJECT. I strenuously OBJECT the fact that each episode is NOT available on iTunes after it’s been broadcast on Showtime. There’s just no way on earth I’m going to convince Fred that we need to subscribe to Showtime for one (okay, if you include Dexter, two) shows. I could probably badger him into it, but I don’t particularly want to subscribe to Showtime for one (two!) shows. We already have a thousand fucking channels we never watch; I don’t need another one. So I suppose I’ll have to wait ’til Season 3 comes out on DVD. Fuckers. Speaking of Dexter, Fred and I started watching it last week (we got the first disc of Season 1 from Netflix) and we’re enjoying it (I think the actress who plays Deb is annoying, though). Fred might be relating a little too much to it, though – halfway through the second episode, he said “Do you think they write it deliberately so that people will start to worry that they might be psychopaths, too?” I think the show is better than the books. I don’t much care for the way the books are written, but I keep buying and reading them because the premise is so interesting. (And I just discovered the third book is released today.) Speaking of watching things, we watched some movie with Halle Berry and Bruce Willis (Perfect Stranger, IMDB reminds me), and it was pretty boring. It had a nice little twist at the end, but even the most interesting twist doesn’t make up for a movie that spends 90 minutes boring the shit out of you. I wasn’t really even paying attention after the first half hour, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss a damn thing. Has Halle Berry always looked so much like Sandra Bullock, or is that new?
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When I go into the foster kitten room, I am surrounded by the most adorable little monkeys, and my tongue – I believe I’ve mentioned – is constantly sore because I bite it so I won’t squeeze the stuffing out of the kittens. Whether it’s Jake and Eddie Dean climbing into my lap and flopping over, or Billy Bumbler batting at my face when I pick him up, or Susannah fighting wildly on the other side of the room, I am bathed in the glow of the cute. I end up spending at least 45 minutes in there every time I go in, and when I walk out, I’m as relaxed as if I’d had a massage. This bonding-with-the-kittens thing could totally turn into a business. People would pay $20 for half an hour of kitten bonding, wouldn’t they? The three orange kittens (Callahan, Susannah, Billy Bumbler) will be going to the pet store today (but there’ll be pictures of them for the rest of the week, because I have so many in the queue on my memory stick) and the three brown tabbies will be going on Friday. Think happy adoption thoughts, y’all! I’ve developed a little crush on Billy Bumbler, because y’all KNOW how I love the orange kittens, and also, when I pick him up and look at him, he does this little swiping-at-my-face thing like “I are a badass! Le grrrr!”, and it’s severely cute. Also, he’s a porky little thing, and who doesn’t love a porky little kitten? *************************************** “Please, can we have the snuggles now?” “NO.” “So…no snuggles? At all? Not a little bitty snuggle?” “NO.” “No snuggles… ever? Or just not right now? Because if I have to be patient for the snuggles, I can be. I’m a patient little girl, and if I know that there will eventually be snuggles, I can chill out and back off. You just say the word, boyfriend.” “Oh lord, how much more must a poor kitteh suffer? How much longer, lord?”
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Previously 2006: *Of course I want my daughter to be in a relationship with someone who treats her well, isn’t a criminal, and is carrying no communicable diseases. But I flat-out do not care whether that person has a penis or a vagina. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Dirk is a happy, happy man. Dirk is very close to orange. 2002: Instead of finding it cute and amusing, I am, instead, bitter that I’ll never get that 94 minutes of my life back. 2001: (he’s a dumbass, she’s a dumbass, they’re dumbasses, wouldn’t you like to BE a dumbass too?!) 2000: No entry.]]>

9/17/07

* * * I don’t think I ever mentioned this, but the lady who bought the house next door moved in – she started moving in while I was in Maine, I think, and completely moved in a few days after I got back. She has, in the past few weeks, been a GREAT neighbor. Waves and calls hello, but not all up in my shit. (Probably my shit is not quite as fascinating to others as I might like to think, ya think?) A couple of weeks ago when I was mowing the lawn to surprise Fred*, she came over and asked if she could use the phone, because she’d locked herself out of her house. We went inside so I could look up the number of a locksmith for her, she called them, and then we talked for a few minutes before she went back over to her house to wait for the locksmith, and I went to finish mowing the lawn. She’s quiet, she keeps her lawn mowed and her deck is lovely to look at, and all in all I don’t believe I could have asked for a better neighbor. The only problem – and it’s certainly not her fault – is that my kitchen window looks directly into her back yard, and she spends a lot of time on her deck. Now, I didn’t think I spent all that much time in the kitchen, but since she’s moved in, it feels like I’m CONSTANTLY in there, either canning something or washing something, and of course if I’m at the sink I look out the window, and I know that several times she’s seen me standing in the window looking at her, and probably she thinks I’ve got nothing better to do than stand and watch her (I like what she’s done with the deck, by the way. Lots of plants and a pretty baker’s rack). What I need to do is plant something bushy and fast-growing that will grow enough so that it will block my view of her back yard, but not so much that it’ll block the morning sun. I’m in Zone 8, people – I’d like something that stays green and bushy year-round (I thought of butterfly bushes, but they lose their leaves in the winter and are supposed to be cut back). Suggestions? (Don’t forget – fast-growing is what I’m looking for, not something that’ll take 10 years to get big enough to do the job.) *I don’t know what you do to surprise your husband – lingerie, or a gift from the local “adult” store, perhaps – but I know the direct way to Fred’s heart, and mowing the lawn so he was free to come home and work on his shed instead of having to mow the lawn made him one happy man.

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Friday evening Fred and I were sitting in the living room watching TV, when the phone rang. It was the manager of the no-kill shelter I volunteer for (you know, the shelter that provides me with an unending stream of kittens. Suckers!). She asked if I wouldn’t mind going to the pet store to pick up Jake, Roland, and Eddie Dean the next morning. They’d developed, as she put it, “yellow poop.” Y’all KNOW I wasn’t going to turn down the chance to bring them home for a few days, so Saturday morning I went and got them. They might be poopin’ yellow (you weren’t eating, were you?), but they’re just as active as they ever were. They all three come over and look for love (they really like being held like babies and have their bellies rubbed), but they also spend plenty of time racing around like howler monkeys. When I walked into the foster room and put the carrier down and opened it, Susannah looked at me and said “NO! What is THIS?!”, and Billy Bumbler and Callahan said “Woohoo! Playmates!” and jumped on them. After a couple of days of medication, they’re doing better. I don’t know if there’s going to be room at the pet store tomorrow or not but if there is, I think I’ll take the three orange tabbies to the store and let the brown ones stay here ’til the end of the week so I can make sure they’re completely over the diarrhea. ****************************************** With the cooler weather, the jalapenos, habaneros and bell peppers have really taken off, and they’ve been piling up in the refrigerator, so I finally decided to do something about it. First I made a batch of habanero hot sauce (no pictures), and when the hot sauce was all mixed up, Fred took a little dab of it and put it on his tongue, and reported that his tongue burned for five minutes afterward. He doesn’t know that he’s going to use an entire batch of the stuff in this lifetime, but it’s good to have around in case he wants to add heat to something, I suppose. Then I took care of the jalapenos: I ended up with two jars of whole pickled jalapenos, three jars of sliced pickled jalapenos, and since I had room in the canner, I did a jar of whole habaneros (when he saw the jar of habaneros, Fred just looked at me like he thought perhaps I’d lost my mind). I use this recipe for the pickled jalapeno peppers, but I don’t use the pickling spice (Fred doesn’t like the peppercorns) or the bay leaves. And I used this recipe for the Habanero Hot Sauce (scroll down). Oddly, that recipe is the exact same as this one, but the one I didn’t use calls for 1 1/2 cups of white vinegar. That might explain why my hot sauce ended up being so thick. I think I need to go add white vinegar to the stuff I made, and see if that works a little better. Once those were done and cooling, I did what I’d been meaning to do for quite some time: I made and canned spaghetti sauce. My recipe: Approximately 12 cups of tomato sauce (made and frozen at a previous date by moi); a small can of tomato paste; a package (8 ounces, I think) of mushrooms, chopped coarsely; 1 medium onion, chopped coarsely; a couple of cloves of minced garlic; a generous sprinkling of Italian Seasoning, and plenty of salt (I thought I’d added too much, but a taste test told me that I absolutely didn’t). Mix together, bring to a boil, turn it down to a simmer and let it simmer for about an hour, or until it’s reached the thickness you desire. I ended up with three quart jars of spaghetti sauce, and I tell you what – this stuff was GOOD. I processed it for 25 minutes in a steam pressure canner (at ten pounds) and let the jars sit overnight. One of the jars didn’t seal, so rather than re-process it, we had it last night with leftover meatballs, over angel hair pasta. I thought it was really good, but Fred especially sang the praises of the spaghetti sauce. One caveat: I didn’t know until after I’d canned the spaghetti sauce that onions and garlic aren’t particularly recommended in canned spaghetti sauce, because they can turn bitter. Had I realized that, I would have frozen the spaghetti sauce instead. The sauce we had last night wasn’t bitter at all, but I don’t know if it’s the canning process that’s supposed to turn them bitter, or sitting in the jar for a long period of time. ****************************************** “Hey! Take a picture of me! A picture of me and Da Boog! Like this! Take a picture of me and Da Boog!” “You might have mentioned that I looked like an idiot before you snapped the picture. Is my head really that big?” ****************************************** Fred took this picture a few weeks ago, and since he hasn’t used it yet, I’m claiming it for my own journal. I honestly didn’t expect this to come out so well – I snapped it through the window (that white string hanging down goes to the blinds). ******************************************
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Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: How’d you like to wake up in the dark and see the Baldwin noggin coming toward you? I bet your life would flash in front of your eyes. 2003: “Freakass freak” is two words. 2002: As I pointed out to Fred this afternoon, it makes me uncomfortable when Dr. Phil is nice. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry.]]>