So, I’m going to try something new. I’m going to post at night, Sunday through Thursday, just for shits and giggles, and see how that works for me. As it is, I’ve been writing the majority of my entries the night before and then posting them the next morning anyway, so why not just post … Continue reading “2-17-08”

So, I’m going to try something new. I’m going to post at night, Sunday through Thursday, just for shits and giggles, and see how that works for me. As it is, I’ve been writing the majority of my entries the night before and then posting them the next morning anyway, so why not just post them after I write them, and those of you who start up your work days with a quick perusal of what’s going on with the crazy cat lady are all set. KnowwhatImean?

I reserve the right to change shit back the way it was before if I wanna.


Yesterday, Fred got almost everything he needs to make a pig shelter and pig yard. It’s a bit closer to the house than I thought it would be, but it’s not too close, so I hope it won’t be too bad. I’ve already told him that if my laundry smells like pig shit, there’s going to be a temper tantrum the likes of which he’s never seen before.

So he spent the morning digging holes for the fence posts, and then he came inside for a break, and I asked if he wanted help. He said that if I wanted, I could drive the truck from fence post to fence post so he could take a bag of cement (mix) off the back of the truck and leave one at each fence post, and that would make it easier for him, so he wouldn’t have to drive, stop, get out, get the bag of cement (mix), get back in, drive to the next fence post, etc.

I followed him out to the back forty and he started loading cement (mix) bags onto the back of the truck.

“If you want to help me with this, that’d be good,” he said, and I walked over to the pile of 80-pound cement (mix) bags, and leaned over, and with much grunting and effort, I lifted one up, staggered over to the back of the truck, and put it alongside the bags he’d already put there. And then I went back for another one, and I tell you what, I could not lift a second 80-pound bag of cement mix to save my LIFE. I finally gave up, and Fred did the rest.

Apparently I need to start lifting weights again for real. There’s no damn reason on earth I shouldn’t be able to lift 80 pounds if I need to!

Fred spent the afternoon mixing cement around the fence posts (which was fairly easy, since the majority of the holes were filled with water because of all the rain we’ve had lately), and then he went down the road to talk to the lady who owns the horses that run around on the property that touches ours. When the guy was clearing onto our land last weekend, he also took the fence up (because they’re going to have a better fence put up) and the horses aren’t fenced in, and apparently like to wander onto our property and nose through the compost heap. Which we only realized because we found hoofprints all over the back forty.

So Fred went down to talk to the neighbor under the guise of being concerned that they might get into something they shouldn’t in the compost heap and get sick. The neighbor in question is an older lady, and she has an “assistant” who answered the door, remembered Fred (“The one with all the cats!”), and said she knew they’d been getting into our property. They’ve started putting the horses up at night (which I guess is when they’ve been getting onto our property), so it shouldn’t happen again.

“Did she apologize?” I asked later.


Alrighty, then.

Not that the horses are doing any kind of damage, really, but it’s kind of a “Hi there, this is our property, pls stay off, thx!” sort of thing. We’re very protective of our property, if you couldn’t tell.

After his hard day of physical labor, Fred was more than ready for bed by 9. I hadn’t done a lot of physical labor, but I did do a lot of house cleaning, so I stayed up and read for about half an hour, then was ready for bed myself.


This morning, I hit the ground running, cleaned out the litter boxes, cleaned the kitchen, took a shower, and went to get groceries. It’s been my pattern, recently, to get groceries on Monday mornings after I go to the pet store, but that’s a big pain in the ass because I find that once I’m done at the pet store, I just want to get home. So I’m going to start getting groceries on Sunday (it’s a 15 minute drive to the good grocery store, and I find there aren’t a lot of people there at 9:00 on a Sunday morning, go figure) and see how that works out for me.

When I got home, I made breakfast for both of us, and then Fred and I went for a long drive into the country so he could figure out where the sawmill he’ll be visiting tomorrow is, as well as the place where we’ll be getting the pigs in a couple of weeks.

It was an area we’ve never driven through before, and it was pretty entertaining to see all the livestock people had, especially the cute little goats (no, I haven’t changed my mind; I still don’t want goats. I can admire something without wanting to own it myself, damnit!).

We never did find the sawmill, but we did find the guy with the pigs, so it wasn’t a completely wasted trip.


For those of you who suggested the possibility – yes, I like Ellie-Belly quite a lot, but no, we’re not keeping her. I know I complain about what a bad boy Joe Bob is, but he’s really not such a bad boy, especially now that we’ve figured out how to keep him from getting out of the back yard. He’s a loverboy, and if you say something to him, he squints his Love Eyes at you, and when you pick him up, he purrs and purrs and kneads and purrs. He’s a sweet boy – just, someone’s always got to be the Bad Boy scapegoat, and Mister Boogers needs a rest from that title, I think.

Elle and Skittles are going back to the pet store tomorrow, because it’s been a month since we switched Punki and Felicia out for them and it’s time for Punki and Felicia to get a rest from being in the cage.

I absolutely do not get why no one is adopting these girls. They are SO sweet and SO cute, but people just don’t seem to be looking at them twice.

Poor girlies.

Elleh-Belleh, asleep in Fred’s chair.

Elleh-Belleh, yawning in Fred’s chair.

Fred put his lunch down on his desk and went off to get something to drink. What happens when you leave a tuna fish sandwich near a cat? (Yes, he ate it anyway.)


Joe Bob’s favorite place to hang out in the house: under the stairs near the window in the computer room. Fred says he’s getting in touch with his inner troll.


2007: No entry.
2006: Don’t call me paranoid – it happens to me ALL THE TIME.
2005: I feel like every time I run an errand in the Jeep I’m tempting Fate.
2004: I am blogrolling’s bitch.
2003: We figured if nothing else, we’d just start killing and eating cats.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: ***Warning! Adult language and situations ahead! Skip the first three paragraphs if you’re easily offended***