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8/31/09 – Monday

by @ Monday, August 31st, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

Okay, the new design is done and up. I don’t think I’ll be messing with it any more because I think it looks good enough, you should be able to see the banner at the top of the page, and I don’t know why the links in the body of the entry are in blue and NOT underlined and the ones in the sidebar are black and underlined. I personally prefer the blue/ not underlined look, but after all the help Fred uncomplainingly gave me this weekend getting the fucking page to look the way I want, I’m not going to ask him to do one more thing with it.

(This week.)

The threaded comments – where you can reply directly to another comment if you want to – are back, and that’s another thing Fred fixed for me, making it look like I want it to.

Fred has put up with a lot of shit from me lately. Thank god for patient geeks who put up with difficult women.

I made a few changes in the sidebars. Jake and Elwood are now listed under permanent residents and even have their own page. I moved Mister Boogers’ picture over there to the right under the search box because people keep wandering through, seem to be surprised to find that he’s died, and do searches to find out when and how. If they click on the picture, it’ll take them right to the entry where I wrote about him.

I can’t believe it’s been two months.

If anything looks particularly wonky to you, let me know!

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Why have you not been demanding Jake and Elwood updates, people? Do you not adore the Jake and the Elwood? Have you fallen out of love with their sassy ways?

Well, NOT THAT YOU ASKED, they’re doing just fine. They each have their own little personality. Jake’s a fighter prone to making the Mister Boogers face, and Elwood’s a lover who’ll purr his goofy little head off if you so much as glance in his direction.

We let them out of the guest room for good on Friday (until then, we’d been allowing them the run of the house during the day, then putting them in the guest room at night), and Elwood jumped up on me during the night several times. That was fine, as long as he jumped up on me and went to sleep or just quietly lay there, I had no problem with that. When he decided to attack my feet, though, that was when the can of air came out.

Jake and Elwood have developed a healthy respect for the can of compressed air.

The two following nights, I don’t know where they spent the night, but it wasn’t on me.

They are both such sweet monkeys, love to be picked up and petted and kissed. They’re both verrrrry interested in the foster kittens, and if it weren’t for the fact that the fosters will all be recovering from surgery at one point or another, I’d likely let the Blues boys in to play with them. As it is, I don’t quite dare, and so they have to be happy smacking at each others’ paws under the door.


We calls him… FANG!

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In case you haven’t been over to Love & Hisses, Sam’s the only one who ended up having surgery on Friday. You can read the day-after-surgery entry here and then the day-after-the-day-after-surgery entry here.

So far, Sam’s doing fine. His eyes looked a little rough to me yesterday, and I made Fred come upstairs and swear to me that they looked okay and his eyelids weren’t going to come popping off and go bouncing across the room (also, he referred to them as “eyelips”, and I laughed and laughed). Sam’s acting like he does not know WHAT the fuss is, please stop LOOKING at me and go away lady unless you have food for me.

I still worry that he’s going to not heal right, but so far things seem to be going well so I’m not too worried.

This is how the kittens feel about Mondays.


(My favorite part of this picture: Bill in the background, slumped over with his foot in the air, looking very Bill the Cat.)

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If that’s not a Mister Boogers look on Jake’s face, I don’t know what is.

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: I don’t get the Winehouse lurve, but y’all just rock on with your bad selves, I s’pose.
2006: That part where McMurphy is trying to take off her scrubs and the back of her shirt is glued to her back with dried blood brings me to tears every single time I watch it.
2005: Is it just me, or does Eric Schaeffer play an inordinant number of characters named Sam?
2004: My day, in progress.
2003: This entry is comprised of nothing but cat pictures, because I’m clearing off the memory stick to start September fresh, with an empty memory stick.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: He said “Maybe you’re losing slower than me because you BELIEVE you’ll lose slower than me!”

8/28/09 – Friday

by @ Friday, August 28th, 2009. Filed under CAE, Fostering, Life


Put some money in the jar for the babies. Don’t be a Heartless McGee!

*Edited to add: We’ve received over $2,950 in donations in less than two days! That’s more than enough to pay for the surgeries for ALL of these kittens, thank you all so much! You guys are so amazing!!!

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Warning: I’ll be working on my site design over the weekend, so if things look wonky ’round here, that’ll be why. I’m likely going to go back to the updated version of this theme. I’m having issues with this version because it’s so old, and when I used the updated version a few months ago, my only problem was that some of you couldn’t see the entire banner at the top of the page. I promise you I’ll do my very best to fix that problem, but when it comes down to it, it may just be something you have to deal with. With the current version, I can’t even edit my right-side column because according to the theme editor, there’s no such thing. Grrr.

On the up side, we’ll get back the feature where you can reply directly to another comment! Yay!

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So, this is how my mornings have gone, recently.

I’m generally awakened around 5:30 by Fred, who’s in the downstairs bathroom. He doesn’t intentionally wake me up at 5:30, but he blows his nose so fucking loud that elephants in the deepest parts of South Africa pause, lift their heads and say “Was that Bob?”

Since I’m awake, I roll out of bed, toss on my nightgown, and then go to the bathroom to pop my contacts in. I stumble down the stairs and into the kitchen. Usually by the time I’m to the bottom of the stairs, Fred is out of the shower, and he joins me in my journey to the kitchen. He goes through the kitchen and out the back door into the still-dark morning, while I stay in the kitchen and start preparing medicine.

A few minutes later, he comes back into the kitchen with The Maestro.


The Maestro.

He noticed, about a week ago, that The Maestro was holding one eye closed. When he picked her up to examine her, he realized that she was wheezing pretty badly and had an upper respiratory infection. We started her on a twice-daily regimen of Terramycin in her eye and a liquid antibiotic down her gullet. He always holds her so that I can apply the ointment to her eye – you can imagine how much she enjoys THAT – and then hands her over to me, and I hold her while he shoots the antibiotic down her throat. And I’m sure you can imagine how much she enjoys THAT, too. Then he takes her back out to the coop.

While he’s out putting The Maestro back in the coop, I prepare another syringe of medication. A few minutes later, he comes in with Hjonkie in his arms.


Hjonkie.

Less than a week ago, Hjonkie stopped acting like himself – he wouldn’t make the sound that gave him his name when he saw Fred, and he wouldn’t jump up on Fred’s arm. Also, the feathers around his neck were sticking out instead of laying flat. According to Fred, that’s an issue and he was afraid Hjonkie was getting sick. So he start Hjonkie on a twice-a-day antibiotic regimen, too.

I think you can imagine how a big-ass turkey fights having antibiotic squirted down his throat. I get to hold the damn bird while Fred does the squirting. Then Fred takes Hjonkie back out to HIS coop, and I begin preparing more medication.

Fred comes back inside and wrangles Jake and Elwood, then holds each of them up so that I can squirt medicine down their throats. Elwood’s usually pretty good about it, but Jake acts like an ass, fighting and kicking and make a face like he’s being tortured. (It’s kind of entertaining, to be honest, he’s such a little drama queen.)

Then, while the other cats meow and twine around my feet, I prepare Snackin’! Time! plates for the foster kittens. They’re healthy, but still kind of having litter box issues, and the thing that seems to help the most with that is powdered Slippery Elm Bark, both sprinkled over their wet food (they get a mixture of Gerber chicken and gravy baby food and Iams kitten food in the morning and in the evening with a healthy sprinkle of powdered Slippery Elm Bark mixed in with it all) and some extra given to each of them in a syrup (“syrup” = powder mixed with water and heated until it’s thickened; can be refrigerated for up to a week) via an oral syringe. So I get the syringes and the snacks ready, and then Fred goes upstairs with me to assist. We put the plates down on the floor the kittens surround the plates, and then Fred picks up the kittens one by one and holds them as I squirt the syrup into their mouths.

Then Fred leaves for work and I go off to take my shower and by the time I’m showered and dressed, it’s light enough so that I can open the maternity coop and turkey coop without fear of nighttime predators (possums, raccoons) coming along and eating a chicken or two.

So, that’s the first 45 minutes or so of my morning, every morning for the past week. The excitement yesterday morning is that when Fred brought Hjonkie into the kitchen, he first hissed at the kittens (I had no idea that turkeys hissed!), and then he registered his displeasure by shooting out a great big Turkey poop on the floor.

“Thank god he got it on the floor and not on the rug,” was my only response. And then Elwood ran over and began vigorously sniffing the turkey poop, and I was afraid he’d start eating it (cats are just the nastiest creatures on earth), so while I was holding Hjonkie and Fred was trying to pry Hjonkie’s beak open, I reached out with one bare foot to push Elwood away from the turkey poop. And managed to SCOOP my big toe through the poop and then at the far point of my kicking trajectory, the poop that had attached itself to my toe plopped off and landed on the rug.

Luckily, it was somehow a DRYish kind of poop, and with a cleaning rag and the application of some cleaning spray, you can’t even tell it was ever there.

You know you want my life.

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Will you make turkey bacon from your turkeys eventually?

Though of course I’ve learned to NEVER say “never” (see: “Oh, we’ll never have dogs.” “Oh, we’ll never have more than, say, 20 chickens.” “Oh, we’ll never have more than 5 cats.”), I can say that at this juncture, I do not plan to make turkey bacon.

(At his desk at work right now, I suspect that Fred is cackling and rubbing his hands together. I’m sure he has OTHER plans.)

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Kate is just being phony and playing it up, the left behind, innocent, sweet person who did nothing to make him want to leave. That’s what I see. I can’t see her being that different that easy. Yes divorce hurts and is rough, but I doubt that she is just little miss sweet butt all of a sudden now. Just for the camera of course.

I think that Kate realized that she was coming across as a complete bitch, and decided that she was going to remedy that by being Upbeat! and Positive! and Happy Shiny Kate! and it rings completely false.

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Does Miz Poo “talk” a lot? I have a torti cat {for almost a year, come October}, and she is the chattiest cat I’ve ever met!! I’m wondering if it’s the breed?

Miz Poo is the talkingest cat I’ve ever known. If something disturbs her (and EVERYTHING disturbs her), she’s gotta talk about it. And talk about it. And talk about it some more. She’ll follow you around and howl at you. She’ll pick up a toy and carry it from one end of the house to the other, keening the entire way. It’s been my experience that calicos and tortis tend to be talkers more often than other cats.

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A funny note… I was wondering how “the one who invented blogging” was staying in business because I had not seen an ad on her page for nearly a year. Imagine my surprise when I fired of Firefox and saw all the ads. Also, I didn’t know PW had ads on her site either, they were not showing up on my dinosaur version of IE. I must say, I could do without the ads… especially the ones that scroll down the page as you go. Annoying!

If you read her in Google Reader, you never ever have to see the ads. 🙂

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Our dear older cat, Kitterz, is 19 years old. He’s actually in pretty good shape, has a full set of teeth, sleeps a lot (isn’t that his job?), but can still jump up on to the couch, and he likes to go outside in the backyard to sit in the sun. Eating and drinking are normal.

Last time I took him to the vet for a check-up, I half-jokingly mentioned that I am planning to get new furniture as soon as our cats go to kitty heaven, and the vet said, “Well, don’t plan on it for awhile…”

The only thing is that he has slacked off in the grooming department over the past couple years, and I know that is normal for aging cats. But he smells a little off these days … and I don’t know what to do. It’s not a urine odor (he’s not incontinent at all) and not really a poop odor, just a musty old-man cat smell. We’ve never really bathed him, as he’s always kept himself very well groomed … and I’m afraid if we tried to bathe him now, he’d have a stroke or something.

Any suggestions?

I really like Jen’s suggestion:

We have an older cat with grooming issues too. He’s not as old as Kitterz – a mere 13 and most of Fred’s problems are due to girth. He’s a bit of a chunk and simply can’t reach most of his back. He can get a bit niffy sometimes in summer – though he washes the bits he can get to really well.

Our 3 cats have a ‘loves and cuddles’ session before being shut in the kitchen for the night. I started brushing Fred as well as stroking him and when he’s chilled out, use an old face cloth (folded and stitched so its a bag to put your hand in, like this he can still feel my hand and your body temperature keeps it warm) and dampened with warm water, to wipe him over with. Depending on his mood, I might only get to wash him installments. He doesn’t get soaked and dries naturally. And smells better.
He’s only had one experience in getting wet and soapy- after my son, who was 3 at the time, decided to coat the cat in butter ( a whole pat, rubbed well in – picture toddler and cat loose in the kitchen, lumps of butter everywhere – on child’s PJs, in hair,all over the floor and rubbed well into cat fur – good morning mum, did we wake you? here’s some fun for 5am ). It took 4 baths that day to get it all out. Fred still remembers and won’t willingly go into the bathroom.

I can’t even imagine having to give a cat 4 baths, Jen – you have my sympathy!

Anyone else have suggestions for keeping Kitterz clean?

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Thought of you and wondered if any of your cats would be so patient!

I actually think that Tommy might be pretty patient, at least for a little while.

What’s surprised me in the last week is that Jake and Elwood have gotten the hang of Snackin’! Time! (it generally takes perhaps three days before they completely understand what the Snackin’! Time! call means), and so I’m giving them their own plate of snack. But if I’m not fast enough with their plate, they’ll belly right up to the plate with Kara or Spanky, and I am AMAZED that neither Kara nor Spanky hisses or smacks or reacts in any way. Unheard of!

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So we have a strange situation going on here. Tell me what you think is going on. We are in the process of taking out a Home Equity Loan to do replace our deck and also roll a car loan into the loan for a lower rate. So We get a call from an appraisal company to set an appointment for a walk through appraisal. No biggie, we were expecting it. They are supposed to come today. Last night we get a call from company B appraisal company trying to set up our appraisal appointment. Hmm, we already have an appointment with company A. We called the bank and they do not know anything about company A and only deal with company B. The bank is concerned and company B is concerned and frankly we are really concerned. Anyone else ever have this kind of issue? We are thinking we are getting scammed. Bank thinks so too. Question is, how did company A know what we were up to?

I was all kinds of freaked out on your behalf, Elaine, ready to scream “Fraud!” and “Scam!” and “Identity Theft!” but then Hannah came along and had to be all reasonable about it:

To answer Elaine: Maybe you shopped for the loan with more than one Loan Officer and the one you didn’t choose didn’t know they aren’t doing the loan for you so they ordered the appraisal?

Or, when you applied for the loan, the credit company (Kroll Factual Data) sold the info that you are shopping for a mortgage (inquiries into your credit record what kind of credit you are shopping ie: car loan, revolving credit, mortgage.) It’s common for them to sell this “lead” to a company – this is why you may get people calling you even if you only ever spoke to one company about your loan. Perhaps the appraisal company buys these leads and knew you were shopping. I think the first option is more likely.

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Help me save a trip to the Dr. – Did the Dr. say what to expect from the tendinitis? I imagine the pain patches will help – but will it resolve itself? My elbow has been hurting for several months. I am wearing one of those straps around the forearm and it helps a lot. But man, one day without it and my world comes crashing down from the pain. It probably doesn’t help that it is my ball-throwing arm and I simply can not let down the dog on her weekend runs.

I just don’t know what the Dr. could do other than prescribe more medications. I am ready to amputate! Anyone else have any suggestions (aside from not throwing the ball! Other things make it hurt too – any lifting or grabbing. There are many times when I can not even lift a can of soda. Pathetic!)

She said that wearing the elbow strap would allow the tendon to “heal”, so I assumed (though she didn’t say it directly) that it would resolve itself eventually.

Fred actually stumbled across this article yesterday and told me to order a couple of those rubber bars. He’s got the same issue – he takes an anti-inflammatory for it; I can’t take anti-inflammatories in pill form since I had weight loss surgery – and if a simple exercise will solve the problem, we’re both all for it!

Any other tendinitis sufferers out there with words of wisdom for us?

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Why do they have to have your car for two days? I don’t like being without mine for any length of time either. One time I put it in on Thursday and they were going to try and have it back by Friday. It turned out to be Tuesday! And over the weekend I had a horrible time getting people to come and get me to do things.

They had to keep my car for two days because they had to do an oil change, check to see why I had a leak in the leg area of the passenger’s side (under the dashboard), and checked to see why my engine was running in fits and starts (when you put it in reverse, it almost always acts as though it’s going to stall. In fact, sometimes it does stall.).

We took it to a new (new to us) place just up the road, one run by a couple of brothers, and they did the oil change, fixed the blocked hose that was causing the leak, and told us to put some of that engine cleaner stuff in the gas tank. For this, they charged $60. The “big” place we usually use? We’ve never gotten out of there for less than $200.

I think we’ll keep going back to that “small” place.

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You guys are AMAZING. By 3:00 yesterday afternoon, you had sent donations to Challenger’s House that totaled almost $1,100. When Susan told me that, I was floored. You guys are THE BEST. Thank you so much for your donations and your blog, Twitter, and Facebooks links!

*Edited to add: We’ve received over $2,950 in donations in less than two days! That’s more than enough to pay for the surgeries for ALL of these kittens, thank you all so much! You guys are so amazing!!!

Once the first couple of eye surgeries are done we’ll know better exactly how much the surgeries will cost, but this vet is willing to do them for a very low price, and I think that with the donations Challenger’s House has received, we’re about covered.

And the kitties would like to thank each and every one of you. Or at least they would, if they had any idea what was going on. They’re kind of busy running around like their butts are on fire, though, so I’ll thank you in their place.

Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you!!!!

(I’ll do my best to get you an updated total donations by Monday!)


Did I mention they’re busy racing around like wild things?


Terry can’t decide whether he wants IN the bed or OUT of the bed. He’s afraid he’s going to miss something.


They LOVE to chew on these cat beds. Something about the fabric must feel good between their teeth.


Bill is cross-eyed – which you can never usually tell in his pictures, because 99% of the time his eyes are mostly closed. Doesn’t slow him down, though!


The Beast Between the Pillows pops out to show Sam who the boss is. (Hint: it’s not Sam who’s the boss! In case you wondered!)


All day long, they claw their way up the comforter to my bed. I imagine that one day I’ll pick up one side of the comforter, and it’ll just disintegrate into a million pieces.

Okay, we’re off to the vet, Sam and Hoyt and Bill and I. Keep your fingers crossed that everything goes well, would you? I’ll post over at Love & Hisses first thing in the morning to let y’all know how it went.

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Annoyed Newtles.

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Previously
2008: Who knew we’re such cranky motherfuckers?
2007: On my way back home.
2006: And I thought Fucker, at least they don’t leave me to cool my heels for over an hour without bothering to let me know they’re running late.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: These kids need someone to come organize their lives is what they need.
2002: “What the hell?” I said, amazed. How far could the fucking thing have gone?
2001: Gah. I’ve got that unsettling panic-causing “waiting for the other shoe to drop” feeling, and I don’t know why.
2000: “An E-scort. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of those. I wonder if they’re new.”

8/27/09 – Thursday

by @ Thursday, August 27th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

*Edited to add: We’ve received over $2,950 in donations in less than two days! That’s more than enough to pay for the surgeries for ALL of these kittens, thank you all so much! You’re the best!!!

I have news about the kittens! And that’s all this entry is going to be about today, so if you’re one of those readers who care not about sweet bebbe kittens and have no desire to help them, you just move along, Heartless McGee.

The vet consulted extensively with an ophthalmologist (I can never spell that right, I always have to ask Google how it’s spelled!) who practices in Birmingham, and there is a way to correct the kittens’ eye problem. What they do is, they take a bit of lip from the corner of the kitten’s mouth and graft it onto the eyelid. The kitten would have sutures both on his/ her eyelid and their mouth, poor thing.

The really good part is that I won’t have to put the kittens through the trauma of driving them down to Birmingham (a 2-ish hour drive each way), because the vet is confident that she can perform the surgery herself.

Since Bill, Hoyt & Sam are all over two pounds and big enough to be neutered, they have an appointment to be neutered tomorrow, and the vet is likely going to perform the eye surgery on at least one of the boys at that time, if not all three of them. Once the first surgery is down, she’ll have a better feel for exactly how long each surgery will take, and then she can determine whether the rest of the boys should have their eyes done at that time, or wait until a later date.

Sookie, the only girl, will be spayed, and since that’s a more extensive surgery than neutering, she’ll have to have two separate surgeries. And since Terry has to have his hernia repaired in addition to being neutered, he’ll have to have his eyes repaired in a separate surgery, also, since the neutering plus the hernia repair plus the eye surgery would have him under for too long.

So we have our solution and we’re ready to move ahead!

I don’t have a sum yet as to what the surgeries will cost – the vet is working on that and I should have a number later today – but I know that it’s not going to be inexpensive to reconstruct the eyelids (or part of the eyelids) for six tiny cats, and I know that the surgeries will strain the shelter budget quite a bit.

That’s where you come in (you knew that was coming, right?). If you can spare some money to help pay the vet who will be reconstructing the eyelids of these kittens so that they won’t suffer eye damage as they grow up, it would be very much appreciated.

Challenger’s House accepts donations by mail (check or money order), by phone (Mastercard/VISA), or select the button below to donate through PayPal. (Make sure you make a note to let Susan know that the donation is meant for the True Blood Kittens’ surgeries!)

Challenger’s House
112 Tristian Rd.
Toney, AL 35773
Phone: 256-420-5995







Please help spread the word – feel free to steal either of the banners below, or create your own. Link to the permanent page about the kittens. Every little bit of help for these kittens is very much appreciated.

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“But… I don’t WANNA go be tutored and have my eyeballs messed with!”


Bill thinks perhaps having good eyesight is overrated.


Snuggly Terry.


Got all six of them in one picture for once! Even looking in the same general direction!


I was waving a feather toy over my head to get their attention, and it makes me laugh that Terry (on the back of the chair) thinks perhaps if he stands up on two legs, he can reach the toy.


Bill in silhouette.


Bowl full o’ Sookie.


Terry keeps warm in the sun.


Upside down cat beds are far more comfortable than right-side-up, apparently.

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Previously
2008: “Huh” is very versatile, no?
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I think our cats are as antisocial as we are.
2003: Damn PMS Fairy.
2002: You know, I don’t believe that once you become a parent, every bit of you has to be absorbed into that role.
2001: Dumbass, thy name is Robyn.
2000: No entry.

8/26/09 – Wednesday

by @ Wednesday, August 26th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

I am without my car today and tomorrow – it’s off being serviced – and it’s kind of disconcerting. OMG, what if I need to go get groceries (I don’t, I got them yesterday) or pick up a bag of cat food (I don’t, we’re completely stocked up) or emergency-run a cat to the vet (I’ve never had to before, why start today?)?! Even if the car wasn’t off being serviced, if it was parked in the driveway, I have nowhere pressing to be today or tomorrow, it’s just knowing that if I WANTED to go somewhere I couldn’t that’s annoying me a little.

And I shouldn’t even be annoyed – if I truly wanted/ needed to go somewhere, I could use the truck. I don’t know where the keys are, but I suspect if I called Fred and said “Where are the keys to the truck?” he’d likely tell me. I don’t like to drive the truck, though. In fact, I don’t like to drive anything but my own car. I guess I’m a creature of habit. Or I’m looking for something to complain about. WHATEVER. I don’t even like my stupid car that much.

Hey – now that I think of it, I could take a page from the book of the old man who lives down the road, who drives his riding lawn mower to the post office every day. I kid you not. And he goes pretty damn fast in that thing.

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I will likely be kicked out of the Huntsville area or divorced by my husband when I confess this to you, but it must be said: I think Big Bob Gibson’s BBQ sauce is good, but I’ve found one that’s even better. When we first visited a certain restaurant in the Lawrenceburg, TN area on our way to Amish country, I liked the BBQ sauce on the table so much that I made Fred buy a bottle of it before we left.

Johnny Fleeman’s Legendary Bar-B-Que Sauce is the bomb. THE BOMB. I love the stuff so much that I ordered six bottles directly from them so I wouldn’t run out.

Highly, highly recommended, if you’re looking for a good BBQ sauce.

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My trip to the doctor went just fine yesterday – and boy HOWDY do they have a nice office! She totally remembered me (or at least pretended to), and I was in and out of there pretty quickly. She ordered bloodwork to test my this level and that level, but I have to go to the lab another day, because I’d eaten breakfast before I went to my appointment and I need to be fasting for the blood work to be done.

That mole on the back of my hand is not anything to be concerned about at all, it’s not skin cancer. In fact, it’s so much not skin cancer that she barely glanced at it before she said “Well, it’s due to aging…” When I told Fred later on, he said “DO YOU HAVE A LIVER SPOT?” Fucker.

My elbow? Not elbow cancer. Not a tumah. Tendinitis.

My thyroid? Still there.

I got a prescription for thyroid medication and a prescription for pain patches for my elbow, a hug from my doctor, and I was out of there.

What’s disconcerting is that I discovered that my doctor is the same age as I am – in fact, a little younger. She turned 41 recently. My gastroenterologist is a few days younger than I am. This means that when I’m old and doddering, they’ll be old and doddering too. Who the hell is going to be my doctor when we’re all old and doddering?!

Fred says I’ve now hit the age where when I get a new doctor for something, they’ll be younger than me.

Damn whippersnappers.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Over the weekend, I started letting the kittens have more room to roam. For the first day, I put up baby gates across the hallway – one stacked on top of the other – but the hallway is wide enough to make the gates barely reach, and though the kittens didn’t attempt climbing them, it was only a matter of time, and the weight of a couple of kittens would surely have brought them down.

I talked to Fred, who thought about it, and ended up building something that was sturdier and couldn’t be climbed – basically it’s a light piece of plywood, cut to fit across the hallway with hooks on either side. We call it “the wall”, it’s temporary and can be moved out of the way in the evening. It’s not gorgeous, but it works really well.

In addition to their room, the kittens now have the bathroom to run around with (complete with a big-cat litter box! Kittens, I have found, are just like little kids. You know when you’ve just potty-trained a child and they get to where every time they see a bathroom they have to try it out? Kittens are totally like “Hey! New litter box! Time to kick some litter around, WHEE!”) as well as my bedroom. Like all kittens, they’ve particularly taken to my bed, and most of the time when they pile up for a nap, it’s on my bed.

I let them roam for most of the day (I put the “wall” up at the end of the hallway around 7 am, and then herd them into the kitten room around 9 pm), and go up often during the day to visit and snuggle. Sometimes when they’re upstairs racing around and I’m downstairs, they sound like a herd of elephants.


Sam the charmer.


Tell me it doesn’t look EXACTLY like Bill’s sharing a particularly juicy secret.


“Heyyyy, good-lookin’!”


Hoyt adores laying on his back and having his belly rubbed.


I share this picture not only because you can see Terry’s little pink hernia bulging out (down toward his back legs), but because you can see the wonkiness of his paw.


See? He’s got three pink pads, each one belonging to a “finger”, and then over to the side (toward the top of the picture), he’s got two “thumbs.” It’s unbearably cute.


It looks wet around Bill’s eyes because I’d just put gel in them. It seems to have the effect of making them lick their lips for some reason, and then clean their faces.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 


Stinkerbelle kinda LOOKS like she’s looking at me, but really she’s looking past me. It’s very subtle, but if you look you can see she’s not really looking at me. She’d never lower herself to look AT me. Brat.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Previously
2008: I don’t know why he can’t just call it Demer0l or whatever the fuck other people call it.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I sure do hate the hell out of housework.
2003: When I think of Judge Roy Moore, the phrase “Getting too big for his britches” comes to mind.
2002: If he didn’t do that creepy, over-intense stare all the time, he wouldn’t be so (you guessed it) creepy, but he does, so he is.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

8/25/09 – Tuesday

by @ Tuesday, August 25th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

The funny thing about the whole entry yesterday, regarding the boat, is that as we were driving toward Joe Wheeler state park, I turned and looked suspiciously at Fred.

“How much cash do you have on you?” I asked.

“Uh… twenty dollars, I think,” he said. “Why?”

“Because you spent all morning talking about that boat you saw on Craigslist, and I was just making sure you weren’t going to SURPRISE me with it or anything.”

“Bessie, I would NEVER do that!” he assured me.

He’s no dummy, I guess.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Kathy came and visited for a bit yesterday! She had to be in the area for work, so stopped by and bought some eggs and a couple of chickens.

(No, Kathy and Dreamguy are not starting their own flock, these chickens were from the freezer.)

And damnit, after she left I remembered that I meant to offer her some cherry tomatoes and a bell pepper and completely forgot! Sorry about that, Kathy.

She got to meet Jake and Elwood, and the True Blood kittens, and they all looked at her like “Yeah, and? You are…?” like the rude little brats they are.

At least they didn’t run and hide like Sugarbutt, Kara… pretty much ALL the big cats, except for Miz Poo, really.

We sat out on the front porch and watched the traffic go by and chatted (and watched the hummingbirds flitting around making a big liar out of me because I’d claimed I’d only seen a hummingbird for a brief instant recently, and suddenly they were all over the place). I don’t get a lot of visitors ’round here on a regular basis, so it was nice to take time out of my regular day and visit and I always enjoy visiting with Kathy!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

I have an appointment later this morning for a physical, and I’m dreading it. Not because I don’t like my doctor – I do (unless she’s changed a lot in the past two years) – but because I haven’t been to the doctor in two years at least. I haven’t had anything wrong with me, and now I have a whole list of whiny complaints, and I’m afraid I’ll forget to mention one of them.

Yes, I have written down a list, but what makes you think I’m going to remember to bring it with me? Okay yes, I put it in my purse, but what makes you think I’ll remember I have it with me?

Perhaps I should mention the potential early-onset Alzheimer’s first.

I’ve probably talked about this before (see above about early-onset Alzheimer’s), but this doctor I’m going to see used to be with another practice, and then she left and started her own practice (coincidentally, with another doctor who left the exact same practice a few years earlier. Who was MY doctor until she left, then I moved on to Dr. Cindy. Who then left. Perhaps they left to get away from ME. HA on them – I found ’em!) and I’m pleased as punch that she’s now in a location about fifteen minutes closer to me. I don’t think it’s going to take me longer than 10 minutes to get there AND she’s located near the grocery store. After I have to sit around and tell the doctor all my woes (“Does this mole look funny to you? My elbow hurts. Is this rosacea? Sometimes my shoulder hurts.”) I can then run over and get groceries. Whatta bargain.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

I know I said that I’d watch every episode of Jon & Kate Plus 8 no matter how much I think they should probably stop filming in the interest of their childrens’ mental health and all, but man – is it just me, or has that show gotten mighty fucking boring? Oh, let’s watch Kate take the kids to the beach. Let’s watch Jon pretend to know something about remodeling the kitchen. Let’s watch Jon mumble and slump and act like a bratty teenager.

(Seriously? 20 year-olds are fighting over HIM? Are they aware they could get boys way younger and way cuter, with way less baggage who don’t act like they need to be smacked upside the head REALLY REALLY HARD?)

Also, Kate is on my nerves. Give us a LITTLE of the ol’ bitch, Kate. Please? This Happy Shiny Kate isn’t doing it for me.

I mean, I’ll probably keep WATCHING it, but I’ll be flipping through magazines while I do so. Snoresville.

I’d like to see Kate and Jon in a slapfight. Is that too much to ask? You KNOW she’d kick his ass.

And speaking of TV – Real Housewives of Atlanta? Zzzzzzzzz. The only excitement is watching the show to see if Kim gets so excited that her face almost moves.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

The many faces of sweet little bunny Terry.


Contemplative.


::thlurrrrrrp::


::smile::


::thlurrrrrrp::


::smile::

I weighed the kittens over the weekend – three of them are a few ounces over 2 pounds, one of them (Terry) is exactly 2 pounds, and Sookie and Lafayette are just under 2 pounds. So there’ll be no spaying or neutering this week – I want to have all of them at least three or four ounces over 2 pounds before I take them off to be spayed and neutered, because I don’t completely trust my weighing method (I put a bowl on a kitchen scale and then lower each kitten into the bowl. They don’t want to be on the bowl unless it’s on their OWN terms, so they hop out of the bowl as quickly as possible, so I only have a split second to determine how much they weigh. I really need to invest in a decent small animal scale, I think.)

So – next week or the week after, perhaps. Honestly, I’m in no hurry except that I’d like to have Terry’s hernia taken care of. Not because it’s a problem or because it bothers him, but it kind of ooks me out. And yet, at the same time it’s kinda cute. Go figure.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 


“Spanky to base. I repeat – SPANKY TO BASE. I have located the sun square and will soak up as many sun particles through my super fluffy sun-absorbing outer coating before I return to base and save the universe. Please confirm.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Previously
2008: “I’m trying to recall the many houses we’ve driven by and seen Mennonite children scrubbing down the pigs and cows. Thinking… thinking…”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I haaaaaaaaaate having to deal with strangers.
2003: I guess when your boss (the Supreme Court) tells you to do something and you tell him to go fuck himself, shit tends to fly.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: The thrills and chills around here just never stop, folks.

8/24/09 – Monday

by @ Monday, August 24th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

Holy COW, we had Bacon, Egg and Toast Cups for breakfast yesterday morning, and they were fabulous. I highly, highly recommend them!

You could, of course, make them a little healthier by using whole wheat bread and turkey bacon – not that I did that, you understand – and I accidentally left off the cheese, and don’t feel like I missed out on anything.

Had I made the bread myself, it would have been a completely Crooked Acres-produced meal.

I haven’t tried reheating leftovers, so I can’t say how they’d be (I’ll be reheating one for breakfast in a while, though) – but I suspect it’ll be pretty damn good.

I declared to Fred yesterday, after breakfast, that I think Bacon, Egg and Toast Cups are going to become a Sunday tradition for us!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

“Bessie,” Fred said, late yesterday morning. “I’m bored. Let’s go for a drive!”

I considered, decided I had nothing pressing to do, and agreed. I grabbed my purse, slid into my sneakers, and followed him out the door. We stopped at the dollar store, looked around, and then left. Fred had talked about heading toward Decatur and taking a walk by the river, but changed his mind and we ended up driving toward Rogersville, where there are many bodies of water and a state park.

We made a wrong turn, then backtracked, and got going in the right direction. Along the way there were boats sitting by the side of the road for sale, and we took turns pointing them out to each other. Finally, we turned into Joe Wheeler state park and drove for miles down the road.

Along the way, we saw deer.

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Finally, we arrived at the marina. I figured we’d just drive around the marina and then head home, but Fred parked the car.

“Want to go for a walk?”

It was a beautiful day – Saturday and Sunday were very cool and had not nearly the humidity you’d expect for August in Alabama – so I agreed to walk around the marina and look at the boats. We walked out to the end of a dock that had a pontoon boat tied at it, and watched the boats go by. We walked back to solid ground and continued walking along the water. When we arrived at the next dock, the walkway was blocked off by a gate and a sign was posted on the gate that read “Slip owners only.” I was disappointed, because there were some beautiful boats, and I’d wanted to walk along very slowly and eyeball what I could see of the inside of the boats.

My inner Mrs. Kravitz thwarted again, damnit.

We passed another dock and another – each dock had bigger and fancier boats. The third dock we passed had boats that were big enough to live comfortably on, and I was REALLY disappointed not to be able to see what they looked like close-up. We reached the last dock (the one with SATELLITE DISHES attached to each slip), and then turned around.

As we approached one of the dock we’d passed earlier, Fred looked around.

“Come on!” he whispered, pushing through the gate.

“What are you doing!” I whisper-yelled. “It says slip owners only! They’re going to throw us out!”

He pshawed. “So we get kicked out of the marina. Big whoop!”

His logic seemed infallible, so I followed along behind him and tried to look like I belonged.

We approached the first boat, a sailboat. Fred stopped and regarded it.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he said.

I shrugged. “I guess.” I, personally, had my eye on a big-ass boat parked a few piers down. One that was so big it had a small motor boat parked ON TOP of it. This one:

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And then I gawped at Fred as he stepped onto the boat.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK,” I growled. “Stop it! Get back here! Have you LOST YOUR MIND!” From down the pier, an older gentleman, busy washing his deck, stopped and glanced over at us, then waved and went back to what he was doing.

“Come ON!” he said, beckoning me. “There’s no one here!” He disappeared through the doorway, then popped his head back out, grinning.

I was in the midst of a panic attack, sure that at any moment the cops were going to come running at us and shoot me just for shits and giggles.

Fred waved to me again.

“Fuck NO,” I said. “You get your ass arrested, I’m staying here!”

He disappeared again, then again his head popped back out. He was a regular fucking Pop Goes the Weasel.

“Look!” he said. He waved a hand at me and I thought I was going to pass out. “Keys!”

Once again he disappeared, and a moment later I heard the boat’s engine start. I began backing away from the boat. Clearly my husband, the rule-followingest law-abidingest man I’d ever met, had taken leave of his senses completely.

“Let’s take it out for a cruise!” I heard him holler.

“I’m leaving!” I said, and began to do so.

“Bessie!” he called. “Wait!” I stopped and turned around. He walked onto the deck and held out both his arms. “HAPPY THIRTEEN YEARS IN ALABAMA!”

I stared at him.

“And I bet you thought I forgot!” He had an ear to ear grin on his face.

“Say hello to the Stanley B!”

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People. Please. You really think my husband would really remember an anniversary?

(Besides, if he went out and bought a sailboat without talking to me about it first, I’d be writing about it from his funeral. And I don’t WANT a sailboat. Neither does he.)

SKIMMERS, READ THIS, BECAUSE I KNOW YOU’RE SKIMMING THROUGH THE REST OF THIS ENTRY TO LEAVE ME AN “OMG” MESSAGE.

Fred did not surprise me with a freakin’ sailboat. Please. We can’t afford that shit.

(He also didn’t board the boat. In fact, we didn’t really walk down the dock to the boat, because we are sickeningly rules-abiding folks.)

We can, however, afford this shit:

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Nah, he didn’t buy me a paddle boat, either. In fact, he didn’t surprise me with anything this weekend.

Fucker.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

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Jake and Elwood are neutered and have their vaccinations (they have to go back in September for their booster shots), and they are doing well. Fred let them out Saturday morning, and there’s been very little in the way of hissing and smacking. The big cats, for the most part, sniff them and then ignore them. Kara doesn’t care for them, but as long as they don’t get up in her grill, she mostly leaves them alone.

At this point, we’re keeping them out during the day and just putting them in the guest bedroom at night. I don’t expect we’ll need to do that much longer, though – they’re pretty quiet little things and mostly interested in playing (and snuggling) with each other.

Jake’s a talker and likes to walk through the house howling for no apparent reason, and they’re both pretty cuddly. They’re both fond of hanging out in Fred’s bedroom, and spent most of the day yesterday in there. They also like to hang out on their cat tree in the guest bedroom.

I think having the run of the whole house makes them a little nervous; unexpected noises startle them, and they go flying. I’m sure as they get more comfortable having all this space, they’ll calm down.

Or maybe not – they are kittens, after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

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Wild thang. They LOVE to jump from the top of this little pyramid/ condo to the cat tree.

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“Dear lord, please let me catch the laser light, it’s all I want in this world, thank you. Amen.”

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Can’t decide which toy to play with…

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“Whatchoo doin’ down there?”
“Nothin’. Whatchoo doin’ up there?”
“Nothin’.”

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“I think you’re doin’ somethin’ down there and just not telling me about it.”
“Nope. Just watching the birds.”

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“I was not messing with the lens cap. Nope! Not me!”

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: SqueeSqueeSQUEESQUEE! the bird squealed.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: My computer is getting so freakin’ slow that it’s driving me absolutely batshit, and I’m spending way too much time swearing at it.
2000: No entry.

9/21/09 – Friday

by @ Friday, August 21st, 2009. Filed under CAE, Fostering, Life

I don’t understand the question.

Why do they keep asking me how many cats I have?

What makes them think I have a lot of cats??

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Ha.

That’s eight 40-pound containers of Fresh Step kitty litter weighing down the back of my car. Also known as 320 pounds of litter.

We were down to less than two 40-pound containers of litter, so I decided that a trip to Sam’s was in order, and I stocked UP. Needless to say, I didn’t get away with spending less than $100 at Sam’s this time around – but we’ve got enough litter for at least a couple of months (we don’t go through litter as quickly as you might think, really).

Then I stopped by Target and stocked up on canned cat food. And then I stopped by Publix and stocked up on baby food (which the fosters lovelovelove). Between the litter and the cat food, I should be all set for a while.

Unless someone dumps 30 more kittens on the doorstep. (That is not an invitation, Universe.)

With all that litter and cat food buying, I fully expected someone to give what I was buying The Look and then give me The Look and then say “How many cats do you HAVE?”, and I had a response all ready to go. Actually, I had two.

I was either going to put on my confused face and say “I don’t have any cats.”

OR

I was going to say “Just the one. But she poops a lot!”

But no one asked. Damnit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

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Look what Aly made! It makes me laugh – I very well might have to use that picture to link to Jake and Elwood in the sidebar (whenever I get around to making them their own page, that is!)

Thanks, Aly!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Speaking of swooning, have you watched “Hung” on HBO yet? How is it possible that I have been unaware of Thomas Jane’s existence up until now? I sort of knew he was Patricia Arquette’s husband, but ho-ly crap! That man is SMOKING hot! I don’t even care that his umm…appendage may not measure up to his character’s (although a girl can dream).

I haven’t seen Hung, ’cause we no longer have HBO (we got rid of it because eventually all HBO shows end up on DVD, and we can sit and watch the shows to our hearts’ content), but it’s certainly on my future to-watch list!

I love Thomas Jane. He’s adorable!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Is it just me, or do the kitten’s eyes seem to be improving? I wonder if they could actually sort of “grow out of that?” They certainly look happy and healthy!

Their eyes do look a lot better since they’re not infected and goopy any more – but they’re not going to grow out of their eye issues, they’re all missing at least part of their upper eyelids. I suspect that they won’t all require extensive surgery (still waiting to hear back from the vet about that), but at least some of them will.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Wait, what? I’ve read some of the books that Bones is based on and I’m so sure she was never in a foster home. Did they veer pretty far away from the character from the books, then? (I saw 15 minutes of one episode, and that was all I could take. There were maggots. Apparently I can read about maggots but can’t bear to look at them.)

I read the first couple of Kathy Reichs’ Temperance Brennan novels, but I don’t really remember much about her personal history. In the show, her parents went missing and she and her brother ended up in the foster care system for a short period of time until her grandparents (I think) found out and rescued them. I don’t know why they felt the need to add that into the storyline, unless they thought maybe it added a darker, more tortured edge to the character (though you’d think that having her parents disappear would have been enough…)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

About Firefox…

The new version has something I think they call “tab tearing”. If you click and pull down on a tab, it will “tear” it off into a new window. If you want to turn it off, there’s some instructions here: http://www.downloadsquad.com/2009/07/08/how-to-disable-tab-tearing-in-firefox-3-5/

Thanks for that link!

Several people have recommended Google Chrome as an alternative browser to Firefox. I’m having such issues with Firefox lately that I think I’m going to give Google Chrome a try. I’ll report back on how it works for me!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Never realized how cool grey cats are. Those boys are adorable together. Wish I could see the intro to the general population. I’m sure you’ve done this in the past. Is there much growling, puffing up and hissing? That would be amusing to watch.

There’ll be lots of growling and hissing on the older cats’ part, I’m sure. It’s all going to depend on how submissive Jake and Elwood (I keep wanting to call him “Elroy”) are to the big cats. If they roll over and submit when the big cats get all hissy and smacky, things will probably go more smoothly than if they fight back.

I’ll see if I can’t get a picture or two of the new guys facing off with the big cats. It’ll certainly be an entertaining weekend!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

“We had several hours of good, steady rain yesterday (I’m not complaining – we really needed it)” WOW! After all the rain you had this year, I never thought I’d hear you say that.

I never thought I’d have to say it either! But after that spring/ early summer of rain rain rain, we got a long stretch of no rain at all, so at this point we’ve needed the rain we’ve gotten this week. I’m never happy, you know – either I want it to stop raining, or it to rain!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

I had trouble with my cat “Snickers” chewing on my lamp and telephone cords. I read somewhere on the net that to cure him of the habit to rub Ivory dish soap on the cord. I did that and he hasn’t been back to chew again.

That’s an excellent suggestion – I’m going to pick up some Ivory dish soap later this morning, and treat all the cords with it. With the new guys about to be running wild, I don’t want to lose any more cords to chewing! Fred lost a phone a few months ago because the kittens (Beulah and her siblings) chewed through the cord.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

While I adore the show Bones (David Boreanz!!), I cannot stand Dr. Brennan. She’s gotten better through the seasons (the first two were really sort of awful), but I find her character so annoying I just want to bitch slap her and her wide-eyed, socially retarded self. Because, seriously, how can someone who supposedly knows so little about regular people and how to interact with them accessorize so well? Her nerd-like, research driven, self would NEVER know how to put together the necklaces and earrings she wears.

I never even thought of the accessorizing angle – that’s a really good point!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

You’ve actually given me a boy name to consider – our son’s name is Jackson, and we have another player that needs to be given a name… Samuel perhaps?

I ADORE the name Jack (the only reason George and Gracie aren’t Jack and Diane is because Fred’s stepfather’s name is Jack!), and i ADORE the name Sam.

Now, can I interest you in “Bitchypoo” as a potential middle name, perhaps?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Unless Larry and/or Erica are over 6 ft. tall, I doubt either one of them will respond to Dad. I had to look at “>the pic a lonnnnnggg time to even find the note!

The picture doesn’t really show it, but the post-it is pretty eye-catching. I’m only 5’5″, and it caught my eye immediately as I walked to the post office door.

Maybe I should take some post-its to the post office and write “Larry! Erica! Read this!” and post it at eye level, then draw arrows on a couple more post-its leading up to the note!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

“Life is too goddamn short to sit in the drive-thru for 20 minutes, especially when you’ve got shit to do and kittens at home that need some love.” I read this as “Life is too gd short to sit in the drive-thru for 20 minutes, esp. when you’ve got to shit.” Heh. Thought you were getting a bit personal there.

You are not the first person to misread my “shit to do” as “need to take a shit.”

PEOPLE. I do not discuss my bowel issues, I promise, and further I would not put it in such a rude and crass way. I might primly allude to having to go to the bathroom, but as for details, well, those are better left to the imagination, I think.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Hooray! All kinds of great name suggestions in the comments. I was wondering, though, were the kittens just loose in your yard? Were they just hanging around the cat food? They obviously knew somehow to stay put and wait for their entrance into Cat Nirvana!

One of them was curled up on the door mat, and the other was playing with something under the steps. As we approached the stoop, whoever was under the steps ran out to greet us, and the kitten on the door mat stood up and stretched and came over to greet us. We were concerned that perhaps there were more than just the two, but we didn’t see any more of them in the vicinity, and no more have shown up (thank god).

You’d think they would have put the kittens in a box, wouldn’t you? We’re pretty close to a busy road, and Jake and Elwood are young – they could have gotten seriously hurt!

Now I’m getting pissed off again, just thinking about it.

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Robyn – Forgot to give my own suggestion for a podcast to listen to. One of my favorites is called
How Much Do We Love – its about 2 BFF’s who talk about things they love. Ive found so many great things I like just from hearing these 2 talk about them.

It just so happened that I got this comment at the perfect time – when I had time to go check out the website and download a few podcasts – and I like it a lot! I’m slowly working my way through the archives (I think I’m up to show #15), and it’s the perfect podcast to listen to when I’m doing housework or driving somewhere.

Thanks for the recommendation!

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We went to see Julie and Julia this weekend. It is about a blogger who decides to cook everyone one of Julia Child’s cookbook recipe in one year. This is her first time blogging and I thought about you when she was starting her blog. Did you get crazy or kinda freaked out when you got your first comment?

Way back in the dark ages of 1999, I don’t believe there were such a thing as comments on journaling sites, though some people had forums to encourage discussion of posts. I’m pretty sure that a few weeks after I started my site, I asked if anyone was reading (though I knew there WERE some people reading – I kept an eagle eye on my stats via Sitemeter) and got two or three emails from readers. And I was THRILLED.

I read every comment I get, and I still love getting comments. I’m not so great at responding to them, because I suck, but I love getting them!

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75 things you can compost, and thought you couldn’t.

Plus, have you ever tried ‘Chicken Poop Lip Balm?” Google it, I think it is funny.

The only thing that really surprised me about things you could compost was urine. I had no idea! I don’t know that I’m going to start collecting my urine in a jar to toss on the compost pile or anything, but it’s certainly interesting.

That Chicken Poop Lip Balm cracks me up!

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Have you watched A&E’s new series, Hoarders? If not you can see it on their website. There is a woman who hoards food, if you wanna get into “should I eat this” I really really encourage you to watch. It’s a trainwreck!

I haven’t – A&E is another channel we no longer get – but I’m definitely going to check it out! It sounds like my kinda show.

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Looky looky who’s about to go be tested, vaccinated and neutered!

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Look at that smile and those long monkey toes!

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Craaaazy kittens!

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Bath time for Sammy.

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I don’t know which I love more – the folded-back ears on the kitten in the back (Bill, I think), or Sam’s thrown up “I surrender!” paws.

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Annoyed Sam.

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Wild Hoyt.

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Is it wrong to love it when they fight?

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Kitten in a bowl!

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Lafayette’s all “I’m trapped! I’m in prison! I can’t get out of here!” and Terry’s all “Hold on, brudder! I’ll break you out!”

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Spanky does not approve of this business where he’s inside and his people are outside. He sits at the door and watches us, and occasionally he howls his displeasure.

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Previously
2008: I am SO PISSED at myself, because I do fumble-fingered shit like that all the damn time.
2007: No entry.
2006: Pictures, you ask? Why of COURSE I have pictures.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: You say tomato, I say fuck you.
2002: “Cats don’t have lips, you freak.”
2001: “…and we’re willing to give this to you – coupons worth two HUNDRED and twenty-five DOLLARS! – for only $19.95!” he said, aflutter with the thrill of it all.
2000: Does the phrase “Through a lovely laxative effect” strike fear into your heart?

August 20, 2009 – Thursday

by @ Thursday, August 20th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

Look who’s turning 18 today!


(From 3 1/2 years ago – still makes me laugh every time I look at it.)

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(From this past Christmas.)

Happy birthday, Brian – not that you’re hovering around your old auntie Rah-bah’s web page or anything. I hope you’ve got better things to do. 🙂

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One of the newest adds to my online reading list is the LiveJournal community Can I Eat This?

Sometimes when someone posts something like “This yogurt is a little green, it’s past the date by three months, should I chance it?” I want to say “Do it! DO IT!”

Maybe someone should start a community, call it “I’m Going to Eat This”, then post about the nasty-ass stuff in their fridge they’re going to eat, then post again to report how sick it made them (if at all).

There might be something wrong with me.

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We had a special visitor yesterday here at Crooked Acres. Katherine (who I’ve mentioned many times before as the one who adopted Kara’s babies River and Inara, who are now Nate and Dora – and hey, look at that! It’s been a year since she first met them!) stopped by to see the garden and meet the large number of new kittens we have on the premises.

She didn’t come empty-handed though, she brought a picture for the kitten room!

Before she showed me the picture, she said “Do NOT feel like you have to take this if you don’t like it!”, and so I promised not to feel obligated.

Then she showed it to me, and for a few moments I was like… “Do I like this?” and a few more moments went by and I was like… “Hey. I like this!” and then the day passed and by the time evening came around, I was like… “I REALLY like this!”

I think it’s adorable, and even Fred said “I’ve seen uglier pictures”, which coming from him is high praise, indeed.

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(Not the whole picture, because I was too lazy to get up and walk across the room to get a shot of the whole picture.)

I think it’s perfect for the kitten room – and I’ve got the perfect wallspace for it. Did I mention I’m going to whip that kitten room into shape?

She had the picture hanging in her daughter’s room, but apparently her daughter was not so attached to it, and in fact her mother didn’t like it either. Katherine and I might well be the only two people on earth who love it.

She met Jake and Elwood (this was me: “I… think this is Jake. No… wait, yes. Yes it is. And that’s Elwood. Unless this is Jake. I just call them the Blues.”), who didn’t embarrass themselves too terribly. Then I took her upstairs to see the True Blood kittens, who sniffed wildly at her shoes and her pants and her shirt, and then raced around like the wild things they are.

And she agreed that they’re the cutest kittens on earth. Or maybe I just heard it that way. Heh.

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I don’t know how they do it – that cat bed Sookie’s laying on, which is flipped upside down, must weigh as much as two kittens. Every time I walk into the room, it’s upside down (and someone’s laying on top of it). I flip it over so it’s the right way, then the next time I come into the room, they’ve flipped it over again. They must work together to get it flipped – I can’t imagine one little kitten flipping it alone!

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“Wah! Make him stop messing with my taaaaaaaaail!”

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Happy Sookie.

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“Pardon me, Madame, might I have a snuggle?” (Sam)

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For a brief moment in time, the cat bed is right-side-up, and Sam lounges in it.

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They hate to get in the bowl to be weighed (I put it on a kitchen scale), but when the bowl is just sitting in the middle of the floor, they can’t WAIT to jump into it.

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They are obsessed – OBSESSED – with the hem of my shirt. They take turns sniffing it, smacking at it, and fighting with it. Doesn’t matter what shirt I’m wearing, something about the hem amazes them.

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Smilin’ Bill.

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Every evening, we let Sugarbutt out of his two-collar system for a while.

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He licks himself.

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And then he rolls around.

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And then he licks himself some more.

He’s been behaving himself for longer and longer periods of time, but inevitably he starts licking his bad toes (“His Bad Toes” would be an excellent band name), which means it’s time to collar him up.

I wish his friggin’ toes would HEAL already, and I wish he’d leave them the hell alone and I wish we could EXPLAIN to him that if he left his toes alone we’d let him stay out of the collars, but he will not be reasoned with. Grrrr.

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Previously
2008: So Fred said “Well, they can’t ALL be your favorite, and besides we agreed we wouldn’t be keeping any of them.”
2007: HAPPY BARFDAY, BRIAN!!!!
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: While your average man might have grown frightened, apparently it wasn’t the first time that morning Mike’d heard Satan’s voice howling his name.
2003: It’s kind of like a samba.
2002: I saved someone’s life this morning!
2001: Thus the reason we never get telemarketing calls.
2000: No entry.

8/19/09 – Wednesday

by @ Wednesday, August 19th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

Confession: I adore stories that talk about what a pain in the ass Gwyneth Paltrow is, and I always cackle when Dlisted refers to her as “Fishsticks Paltrow.”

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We’re working our way through Season 2 of Bones, and I have to say that I am getting MIGHTY FUCKING TIRED of Bones and her “I was a foster kid! I was in the system! I feel your pain!” shtick.

She was in the fucking system for what, two days before her grandparents (or aunt or whothefuckever) found out and came to rescue her? I mean, I know that must be terrifying for a kid, but TWO DAYS is not YEARS AND YEARS, Bones.

I much prefer Bones when she acts like Chloe from 24.

The other day Fred said something to me, and I said “I don’t understand” and he laughed and told me I sounded like Bones.

(TJ Thyne is my secret boyfriend.)

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Someone HELP ME PLEASE. I upgraded to the latest version of Firefox, and now RANDOMLY, for no reason I can discern, sometimes when I open something in a new tab, it will OPEN in a new tab and then reopen SUDDENLY AND RANDOMLY WHEN I HAVE DONE NOTHING AT ALL in a new window. Now. If I wanted the goddamn thing to open in a new WINDOW, I wouldn’t have opened it in a new TAB, would I?

NO I WOULD NOT HAVE.

Is anyone else having this issue? Anyone know how to MAKE IT STOP? Because it doesn’t happen often, but when it does it’s like my computer is all “Oh, you need to have this open in its own window LET ME DO THAT FOR YOU WHETHER YOU WANT IT OR NOT!” and it makes me feel like stabbing something. Repeatedly.

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After spending the last month and a half collecting all the decent, unblemished big tomatoes that came from the garden, putting them in a bag and sticking them in the freezer, I finally had enough to make a batch of tomato sauce. I ran them through the food mill, tossed the puree into a big pot, and let it simmer all day long.

I ended up with about 10 cups of tomato sauce.

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I’ve got another couple of big bags of tomatoes to run through the food mill, and that might give me another five cups or thereabouts.

I guess this weekend I’ll be canning tomato sauce!

(And it’s just straight tomato sauce, no spices or veggies added. I can add that stuff to it when I need to, I figure.)

We’re practically at the end of the summer, and I highly suspect that three quarts of tomato sauce is about as much as I’m going to get this year.

Have I mentioned it hasn’t been a great year, tomato-wise? The chickens, turkeys, and pigs are making out like bandits, though, with all the half-rotted and split tomatoes we toss their way.

I guess it all works out in the end.

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Remember the chair I got at the yard sale for $15, to put in the foster kitten room? Sure you do.

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The kittens, as suspected, really liked the fringe around the bottom of the chair.

However, I didn’t foresee that they’d pull the fringe strings off and try to EAT them. The day I walked into the room and saw Sam with a fringe string hanging out of his mouth is the day that fringe went bye-bye.

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I can’t say removing the fringe helped make the chair any better looking, but at least I don’t have to worry about the brats swallowing strings and getting their intestines in a bind.

(And still – $15 for a chair that’s in decent shape. Can’t beat that!)

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We had several hours of good, steady rain yesterday (I’m not complaining – we really needed it), and since Fred couldn’t work in the garden, I requested his presence inside, doing a few things that needed to be done.

He put a hook in the back of my bedroom door, a hook in the back of the guest bedroom door, and put up the lamp in the kitten room.

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I like the lamp, it’s exactly what I wanted for that room. The only problem is that kittens just ADORE chewing on cords and even though there’s a hook in the wall holding the cord up out of the way, there’s still a cord there, so I had to find something to cover the cord, preferably hold it against the wall at the same time, and after some Googling around, found the perfect solution.

My next step in the kitten room will be to get shades for the windows and have Fred put them up. Anyone who walks or drives by the house at night and cares to glance up can see any number of kittens hanging off the cat tree by one claw, squealing angrily and swatting at each other.

(I half suspect that’s the reason we now have two more permanent cats, because someone saw all the kittens coming through the foster room and realized we’re cat lovers.)

Slowly but surely, I’m whipping that kitten room into shape!

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Guess who’s going to be tested and neutered and vaccinated Friday morning?!

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And guess who’s most likely going to be released into Gen Pop Saturday morning?!

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They’re SO looking forward to it.

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“HI lady. You got snacks for me?” (Hoyt)

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I love the way Terry’s standing, staring up at that stick like “What is THIS happy horseshit?!”

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“I needs a snuggle!” (Hoyt)

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Plastic packing strap: best cat toy ever!

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I love it when kittens get annoyed and stomp around with their ears back.

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“I wanted to play on the cat tree, and Lafayette pushed me OFF and he said I can’t play with the BOYS because I’m a GIRL and girls are STINKY and it’s not FAIR, he’s always so MEAN to me!”

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:::Slurrrrrrp:: (Bill)

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“Ah, my adversary, it appears that with each of us holding the other at arms’ length, we have reached an impasse.”

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“I is the boss, Teddy! I chomps on your nose and I kicks your butt and you will bow down before my superior strength!”

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“I was just kiddin’, Teddy. You’s my best friend. You still wubs me, right?”

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“Is it Snackin’! Time! yet?”

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Previously
2008: Or… is that how learning curves work?
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: she’s got the skank lines rolling off her, doesn’t she?
2004: Fred is just amazed that one portly cat can have so many health issues.
2003: ::Sproing!:: he went, leaping at least a foot in the air, and I watched, impressed that he’d contained that much energy in his dry and dead-looking little body.
2002: “TUBBY GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” I ordered, and grudgingly he did.
2001: No entry.
2000: Being completely, one-hundred percent useless in the slightest emergency, I slapped my hands to my cheeks and let out a horrified scream.

8/18/09 – Tuesday

by @ Tuesday, August 18th, 2009. Filed under Fostering, Life

I think I’ve killed 300 flies in the past three weeks. You know, if the fucking things didn’t insist on congregating on the windows right by my monitor, I wouldn’t get so annoyed by them, and they’d probably live a longer life.

Well, that’s not true. Flies in the kitchen drive me absolutely nuts, too, and I go after them as soon as I see them.

I loathe flies. Fucking things.

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At the dollar store. Does the pretty printing make the misspelling okay? You know, I think it just might.

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This post-it has been stuck to the post office door for at least a week and a half now.

I’m surprised that it’s actually lasted there this long, that no asshole has come along and pulled it down.

I’m very curious whether Larry and Erica did, in fact, let him know where they are. Or if they’ve even seen the post-it. I’d like to know what the story is, there.

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2009-08-18 (13)

Thanks, you guys, for your name suggestions for the new guys. I really liked Loki and Bart, but Fred did not. I am very enamored of the names Ham and Egg, but Fred is not.

Since they’re really his boys (he really does call them “My boys”, but then I always say “I’m going to hang with my homies” when I’m headed upstairs to hang out with the foster kittens. I’m not sure what my point is here. Maybe that I’m a freakin’ dork.), I gave him final say on their names (as long as I don’t HATE them – he wanted Remus and Romulus, but I nixed that right quick). I thought we should just give them the same name, or similar names that could have the same nickname, because I cannot tell the two of them apart.

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He suggested Grey’s Anatomy names, then said we could name one of them McDreamy, and I said we could name the other McSteamy and call them both “Mick.”

I also really like Bubba and Gump, but Fred doesn’t (odd, since that’s his favorite movie). I suggested George and Lenny (Of Mice and Men), Stu and Larry (The Stand), Fred suggested Javert and Valjean (Les Mis) or Jesus and Judas (heh).

He did suggest Frick and Frack, which I kinda liked.

Lisa suggested Thing 1 and Thing 2 in my comments, which I liked a LOT, but Fred did not.

What I really really REALLY liked and couldn’t convince Fred of, was that Samuel and Jackson would be EXCELLENT names. Sam and Jack! How perfect is that?

But, last night, we found names that we could agree upon, at least for the time being. (It took a long time before Mister Boogers’ name came to be. He started out as “Stanley”, became “The Bean” for a while, turned into Mr. Boogers before he finally became Mister Boogers. I don’t know that the names we’ve given these two will stick, but we’ll see.)

They’re blue.

They’re brothers.

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They’re Jake and Elwood.

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The kittens are doing well. They recognize the sound of me walking down the hall toward the kitten room, and when I open the door all six of them are lined up waiting for me, and begin howling for attention. A couple of them invariably make a run out the door, but I have a fireplace screen across the door (I call it “the airlock” so they don’t get far.

Today marks two weeks since they came here, they’re all very good about using the litter boxes, and the diarrhea appears to be almost completely gone. I very well may begin to allow them the run of the upstairs in the next few days.

Have I mentioned that Sam is a back climber? He’s the only one who consistently climbs up my back, sinking his needle-sharp claws into the skin of my back, and then perches there (as I lean forward so he won’t tumble off). Sometimes he chews on my hair.

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He likes to sit in my lap, too. I guess what I’m saying is that Sam is a people person.

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:::slurrrrp:::

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For a few days, Lafayette would get up on top of the cat tree and then cry and cry and cry for me to come rescue him. He figured out how to get down on his own, finally, and now he races up and down that cat tree faster than you’d think a little kitten could move.

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Sookie thinks you’re FUNNY.

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Previously
2008: YES THAT’S RIGHT I SAID SIX-THIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME.
2007: No entry.
2006: He truly amazes me.
2005: If I insert a brillo pad into my ear, will it eventually get to my brain and scrub that song out, or is that an urban myth?
2004: You know, I’m getting PRETTY FRICKIN’ TIRED of finding cricket legs all over the damn place.
2003: “Mother,” said the spud, “That is an excellent idea, for I am going to melt into a motherfucking puddle of goo in about 10 seconds.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: In the future, the spud will be cleaning her own bedroom, since I took one look at her room and said “Fuck THIS.”

[Bitchypoo is peeing-her-pants excited to be powered by WordPress.]