This is Sophie. She belongs to one of my sister’s neighbors. She had a litter of kittens earlier this year, and recently went into heat, causing her owner to toss her outside in a neighborhood where at least two unfixed male cats roam. (I have no public comment on this, but I think you can imagine the comment I’d have if I did. Imagine a lot of obscenities.)
Luckily, A Paw in the Door stepped up to help with having Sophie spayed so that she won’t end up bringing any more unwanted kittens into the world.
A Paw in the Door is a non-profit, all volunteer organization that is completely supported by donations and fundraising events.
If you could spare some money, I know it would be very much appreciated. They have a paypal link on the sidebar of their web page, or if you’d rather send a check, their address is also in the sidebar. A Paw in the Door is a 501(c)(3) organization, which means your donation is tax deductible. Remember, it doesn’t have to be a lot – every little bit adds up, as y’all well know.
Just tell them Sophie sent you!
Hey, it’s the 13th. As of today, I’ve lived in Alabama for 14 years!
Okay, first pictures from my trip to Pennsylvania, then the answering of a few questions. I find myself amused by the fact that I was surprised to find that since comments were down for most of the week, there were no comments and thus the comment-answering extravaganza consists of maybe three comments.
By the way, last year when I was in Pennsylvania, BlogHer was going on. This year, same thing. I swear we didn’t plan it that way!
Pictures from NebBitchyCon 2010!
I must have taken 30 pictures from the plane. This is why I always sit by the window.
Julie is NOT sitting on the table. I just photoshopped it to look that way.
We had grilled corn (this is the corn before the grilling) and barbecued chicken. Did I get a picture of the chicken? Of course not. But DAMN it was good.
Felina and her chew. She tried to hide it in my mouth later that night.
We went grocery shopping. This place was HUGE. Neat, but overwhelming.
HOLY CRAP these things were good. I checked at the grocery store yesterday to see if they had any. Unfortunately, Publix does not have much (if any) of a Polish section. I bought some Pim’s cookies that were the same idea, but they weren’t nearly as good.
We had pizza on the grill one night. Nance was all “Come make your damn pizza!” and I was all “I’m a guest! I don’t have to make my own pizza!” Then Rick made my pizza and I was like “WHY does this not work for me at home???”
Wee baby bunny, living in the garden. I got too close to him and he ran away from me, though.
I thought they were good (I was the only one who thought so, apparently), but I should have only taken a few bites. I was in a sugar coma for the rest of the day.
Frog in the garden. Or toad. Whatever. Croaking, hoppy thing.
Waldo. He’s such a sweet boy. He cracked me up, because he LOVES Trey, and he follows Trey around, gazing at him with eyes of devotion.
Cupcakes. Nance thought they were “too floury”, but I thought they were fabulous. In fact, on the way to the airport Wednesday morning, I was kicking myself for not eating one for breakfast.
JANE! It’s the devil weed!
Felina has her own chair, with her own blanket on it, and when she’s not sitting in Shirley’s lap like a little princess, she’s curled up in her blanket.
Bridge to Canada. HI CANADA! Tuesday, we went to Niagara Falls. We left at 6 am and got back home at 1 am. It was a lonnnnng day, but fun.
Nance and Trey and the falls.
Rick and Trey and I climbed to the top of those steps. It’s not as bad as it looks.
We ate at Buzzy’s and it was really, really good. We had fried ravioli, which I have never had before, wings, and pizza.
So yeah, originally we were supposed to go to Kennywood, but we started talking and I mentioned that I hadn’t been to Niagara Falls since I was very little (and to be honest, I’m not sure that I was really there – or if I was on the US side or the Canadian side, but I have a vague memory of some mist) and we decided to go there. We saw the falls, we walked around, we people-watched, shopped, ate, and people-watched some more. I sweated so much that I was kind of glad we hadn’t gone to Kennywood, because I think we would have all been flat on the ground from the heat.
We didn’t go over to Canada, because I didn’t have my passport with me, because I don’t have a passport, so don’t go offering me an all-expenses paid trip to Scotland for next week or anything.
Other than that, we stayed at the house, babbled at each other, stuffed our faces, and had a blast. We talked about doing a podcast and Nance even had Alex bring his recording equipment over, but when it came down to it, we froze and ended up not getting much. I don’t know why, but I had a harder time talking when it was just a microphone in front of me instead of the camera we used to do the video podcasts last year.
There you go – your NebBitchyCon recap for 2010!
After recently reading a particularly horrific airline travel tale on a Childfree board, I’ve decided that I’ll never fly coach again. If first or business class is too expensive, I just won’t go. We always, ALWAYS get seated near screaming children and, apparently, the airlines are still doing nothing about them.
If I ruled the world, any and all unruly airline passengers would be quickly jettisoned. No one agrees with me on this, though. 🙁
I have to tell you that when I was boarding the plane from Pittsburgh to Charlotte, NC, there was this little girl who was having the meltdowns of all meltdowns. This child was screaming, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that she screamed at the very very very top of her lungs all the way down the terminal, for the ten minutes before the flight boarded, all the way down the jetway onto the plane, and for the first 10 minutes of the flight.
I have to admit that I thought it was HILARIOUS. I felt bad for her father (he honestly was trying to get her to shut up, but when kids hit that state of meltdown, there’s little you can do), but I was impressed by her stamina and the fact that this apparently all started because she took her shoes off and couldn’t get them back on by herself.
I’m sure that if I was flying on very little sleep (like the passenger ahead of me), I wouldn’t have found it nearly as amusing, but I swear to you, I was laughing out loud at that child. I’m also sure that part of the amusement I felt was due to relief that she wasn’t my kid.
I flew with the spud a few times when she was tiny, and you know, it’s a long, boring plane ride from Maine to California and we had a few instances where I’m sure she was annoying to other passengers, however briefly, but I have one hell of a Mean Mommy face that worked pretty damn well on her.
Apart from the fact that this picture makes me giggle like a fool, I also think it’s the pig equivalent of your Skimmer! photo.
I agree completely! That picture cracks me UP.
On a side note, don’t you love Lisa? She takes the most amazing pictures, I love checking out her Flickr uploads every day!
For Friday-do you think the flight attendant is a hero?
I think “hero” might be overstating it, but who of you who have real jobs have NOT fantasized about telling off the assholes around you, grabbing a beer, and jumping out the emergency exit, before going home and climbing into bed with your significant other before the cops show up to arrest your ass?
Pity me, ’cause if I were to have a Steven Slater day (in my version, I wake up, walk through a cold pile of cat barf, am slapped in the face by the smell coming from the litter box, drop my toothbrush on the floor, have to wrestle it back from the cat, almost fall down the stairs because Bolitar loves me so much he rubs against my left calf, then my right, then my left, all the way down the stairs, have to scoop 7 litter boxes, then have to scoop again because my cats LOVE THEM A LITTER BOX, stand in despair in the garden, glaring at my barely-producing tomato plants, tell the dogs multiple times to stop barking at whatever they’re watching in that other dimension, shoo several chickens away from the neighbor’s yard, and on and on and on) I can’t escape my workplace! I live here! (Yeah, yeah, woe is me.)
So THAT’s where it is!
Unfortunately, Elwood fled the crime scene before Homicide Detective Maxi’s backup, Detective Coltrane, rolled up onto the scene. Rumor has it he was off rolling around in catnip. Has a ‘nip problem, that one, and you’d better believe Internal Affairs will have a field day with this one!
Tommy, hanging out in the back yard. This platform (which Fred made, specifically for the cats to hang out on in the back yard. It looks like the fence is very close, but it’s not at all – they can’t jump from the platform over the top of the fence, believe me.) is about eye-level for me. Tommy seems to think I can’t reach him when he’s up there, so if I need to give him medicine or clean his eyes or whatever, he flees to the platform. Then he’s AMAZED when I grab him.
2009: Another 13 years, maybe I’ll take up tea drinking and swanning about with big Southern hair.
2008: In lieu of a real entry today, sights and scenes from around Crooked Acres.
2007: “It’s not a tumah,” he said, as is standard.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Give me time, I’ll have fifteen different versions of “Xanadu” in my music folder.
2003: MY ARM HURTS.
2002: I think no one ever told Billy Bob that if you ANNOUNCE you’re taking the high road, then you aren’t taking it.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.