So yes, the colors on the sidebar are weird. I fucked around with the css for about an hour between last night and this morning, and I’m giving up ’til I feel like fucking around with it again – which may not be ’til next weekend. You can live with the tan sidebars and comments, … Continue reading “5/4/09”

So yes, the colors on the sidebar are weird. I fucked around with the css for about an hour between last night and this morning, and I’m giving up ’til I feel like fucking around with it again – which may not be ’til next weekend. You can live with the tan sidebars and comments, can’t you?

The big change is that there are now threaded comments – which means you can reply directly to another comment, and your comment will show up indented underneath the comment you’re replying to instead of at the bottom of the comments (though of course you can do that, too. Whatever floats your boat!). Just click on the “reply” link underneath the comment you want to respond to.

Neat, huh? Yeah, it’s the little things that thrill me.

This weekend, it rained. And it rained. Then when it was done? It rained some more. I think Fred came thisclose to losing his mind, because he wasn’t able to go outside and get anything done. Did I mention it rained? I only know this because every time it started pouring, Fred would sob “It’s raining again, make it stoooooop!”

It’s his own damn fault, really. The middle of last week, when things were getting nice and dry, he said “I kind of wish it would rain, the garden could use the water.”

Well, the garden got PLENTY of water. The back forty got flooded too, and plenty of times I looked out there to see George and Gracie wading through chest-high water. Those dogs REALLY like slogging through the water. The good thing is that the water soaked in/ ran off pretty quickly. It’s still wet and muddy out there, but the chickens are able to get out and get around without getting too wet.

I never for one moment have to wonder what the weather report is, anymore. Fred talks about the forecast CONSTANTLY. I can’t decide if that’s an old-man thing, or a farmer thing, the obsession with the weather. I don’t remember the every-five-minute weather reports when we lived in Madison, but it’s possible I’m just not remembering. Surely he had to know what was going to happen weather-wise when he did all that hiking?

We spent most of the day Saturday in the house, watching movies. We finished up Requiem for a Dream (now THAT is a positive and life-affirming movie right there, isn’t it?), watched half of The Stand, and started Beaches. It was actually my original goal to stay in my nightgown all day, but around noon I went upstairs and got dressed because Fred was talking about going somewhere and picking up lunch (I don’t cook on Saturdays. I BAKE, but I don’t cook meals.).

Mid-afternoon, he said “What do you want to get for lunch/ dinner?”

I said, “A cheeseburger from Logan’s Roadhouse sounds good.”

I don’t know why I bother to answer the question, honestly. It’s as if he asks the question just so he can make sure that I do NOT get what it is I’m craving. Maybe I’ll just start planning meals for Saturdays instead of refusing to cook. THE ENDLESS GODDAMN DISCUSSION ABOUT IT DRIVES ME NUTS.

I finally agreed to whatever the fuck he wanted, just to stop talking about it. We got in the car and headed toward Closeville, and he said “How about Steak-Out?” I agreed, and he tried calling to place the order, but as we were in the middle of nowhere at the time, had no cell phone signal.

“Is there anywhere else you’d be willing to eat from?” he asked.

“Let’s just get Burger King,” I said, since Burger King is near Steak-Out.

But of course, it being Saturday, there was a long, long line at the Burger King drive-thru, so without even asking, he drove up to Steak-Out and parked. We walked in, and I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted, and do you know what Douchey McDoucherton did, as I stepped forward to place my order? He decided that I could just get food from Steak-Out and he’d go next door to the shittastic Hardee’s and get a burger from there. So I placed my order, and then we went through the Hardee’s drive-thru to get his meal, and then I got to go back into Steak-Out to wait for my order.

You know. Steak-Out. Where I’d agreed to go just to shut him the fuck up.

And of course the Steak-Out burger was overcooked and tasteless.

Next weekend, when the “What do you want to have for dinner?” dance begins, I’m going to tell him to submit three choices in writing and I’ll make my decision.

Or maybe I’ll just start cooking dinner on Saturday. Grrrr.

PS: He claimed that the Hardee’s burger was the best! burger! ever! I have a knee-jerk dislike for Hardee’s, though, so I don’t believe him.

Sunday, we finished watching Beaches, watched the rest of The Stand, and in and among all that, I did laundry and started fiddling with the updated theme on my site.

Also, we discussed the fact that it was raining.



Speaking of food, I made Brunswick Stew last week using a recipe from the same place where I got the Tomato Soup Cake recipe, and the Brunswick Stew was FABULOUS. Fred didn’t think it was as good as I did, but he still thought it was pretty good. The best part is that it makes a TON, so we had it for dinner two nights, then I froze the rest, which will give us about three more meals.

Other things I made over the weekend: a 7-Up Bundt Cake that was nothing to write home about (the pigs gave it two hooves up, though. They give just about EVERYTHING two hooves up.), and Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies. The cookies were very good – definitely a keeper! They’ve got coconut in them, but not an overwhelming amount, just a taste. They’re chewy and very very good. I recommend them!

Of course, the Cooking Light Chocolate Chip cookies continue to be my favorite.



So on Friday, I took Jasper, Caleb (Troubles), Elijah, Ezra and Phinneas to the pet store. It just so happened Thursday night that the Friday morning cleaner sent out an email asking if anyone could cover for her, and since I was going to be there anyway, I told her I’d do it. I left the house a little after seven with the boys in one carrier, and Ezra and Elijah took turns singing the entire 25 minute drive to the store.

Once inside, I let them out of their carrier and started cleaning cages. They ran around and explored and checked out the other cats while I was cleaning, and then when the other cages were cleaned and all the other cats had been out for a little while and gotten some love from me, I put the other cats up, and opened the cage where the boys were going to be going.

I figured I’d have to shove them all into the cage and then run away before my heart broke as they looked at me sadly, crying and saying “What did we do wrooooong? Why don’t you love us anymooooore?”

It didn’t quite happen like that. Instead, as soon as I opened the cage door and filled the food and water bowls, the boys RAN into the cage and yelled “Hey, toys! Look, toys! Come check out the toys!” By the time I’d tossed a few more toys in the cage, all five of them were in there, playing and fighting and eating. I picked them up one by one to kiss them and say goodbye to them, and they each gave me the MOST annoyed look and waited impatiently until I returned them to their cage.

WELL. Ingrates!

They didn’t get adopted over the weekend, but reports (thanks, Jean and Lisa!) came in that they were completely calm and relaxed and happy, not scared at all.

Beulah and Bessie are adapting to life without their brothers very well. They stay out of their room from the time I get up ’til the time I go to bed, and most of the time they’re sleeping or playing together. Keeping Bessie here to keep Beulah company was a very good idea on my part, I think.

2009-05-04 (1) 2009-05-04 (2)

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Brudderly love.



2009-05-04 (7)
Stinkerbelle in her Safe Place.



2008: No entry.
2007: Do you see what I see?
2006: And I mean that “woohoo!” in a completely sincere and non-ironic way, which is a little sad, but whatEVERRRR.
2005: Did I really write a chapter about my sex life? Eek! What was I thinking?
2004: “YES! Yes, she’s sick! No, she’s not sleeping, she’s SICK, and SHE’S ABOUT TO DIE, NOW WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: It wasn’t until I said “I think she’s messed up in the head” that something clicked for her.