Home

Archive for February, 2011

2/28/11 – Monday

by @ Monday, February 28th, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life, medical crap

Behold, I continue to live!

I saw the plastic surgeon on Friday, and had all my stitches and staples out. The stitches weren’t too bad, and MOST of the staples weren’t too bad. The staples that were in my scalp, for instance, weren’t bad. A few of them hurt coming out, but only momentarily. The staples that came out of my armpit, on the other hand, hurt so much as they were coming out that I about levitated up off the table. Like I told a few people, I wasn’t looking forward to having them taken out, but I was looking forward to having them gone. Now that they’re gone, I can say that the staples in my arm pits were responsible for about 75% of the pain I was having. It is NICE having the damn things gone, so that in the event that I move my arm or even THINK about moving my arm, there isn’t a warning pain from my armpit.

Since I still have swelling under my chin, I have to continue wearing the face compression garment. Since my ears have been hurting like crazy from rubbing the inside of the garment, Fred cut ear holes in the sides so that my ears stick out. It’s quite the fashion statement, I’m sure you can imagine. It’s probably a good thing that I have to continue wearing it, since there are scabs on my scalp (around where the staples were) and I cannot help myself but pick at them if I have access. With the garment on, I can’t get to the scabs, which can only be a good thing.

My arms are still swollen, so I have to keep them wrapped in Ace bandages (or rather, Fred has to wrap them for me) for a few more weeks.

The good thing is that since all my incisions are healed and not draining, we were able to stop with the daily antibacterial ointment-dressing with gauze thing, and go to using gauze only when I need to protect my incision lines, such as when I’m wearing a bra.

So naturally I said to him “So, should I start wearing a sports bra?”

He stopped, considered, and said “Sure, you can if you want to.”

I wondered later why the hell I was instructed to buy a sports bra if they weren’t going to tell me to start wearing the damn thing. Because not only did I buy a sports bra, I bought about 10 of them because I was so concerned about having one that would work for me.

After the nurse removed my staples and stitches, she rewrapped my arms.

“Is that too tight?” she asked.

“No, that’s just perfect,” I said. And at that moment it was. As we headed out of the exam room and waited to make my next appointment, I came to realize that the wrap on my right arm (which is more swollen than the left) was actually a bit too tight. Okay, maybe WAY TOO FUCKING TIGHT. By the time my appointment was made and we were in the car, my right hand was tingling and going numb. I ended up taking the wrap completely off for the ride home.

“I guess it was a little too tight,” I said to Fred.

“Well, she was practically hanging off you as she came to the end of the wrapping,” he said.

So I don’t see the surgeon again for two months, which I thought was odd, but they were quick to tell me that I could call the office if I had any questions or problems or thought I needed to see him again.

With the staples out, I’m having a lot less pain and have switched to Ibuprofen and Acetaminophen during the day, saving the narcotics for nighttime.

In the past couple of days, I’ve noticed that my forearms are hurting – if I touch them, they feel bruised. Luckily, I’ve done enough reading online to know that that’s normal and will go away in time.

After my shower Saturday morning, I put on a sports bra (one of the cheap ones I got from Walmart). It got to be uncomfortable, though, so I took it off after a couple of hours. After my shower Sunday, I pulled out a white t-shirt, turned it inside-out so the seams were on the outside, pulled that on, and then put the bra on over it. That turned out to be pretty comfortable, and so that’s how I plan to wear it from here on out.

I’ve still got a lot of swelling going on – I measured myself on Sunday just for shits and giggles, and determined that if I were shopping for a bra right now, I’d need a 34G.

“They don’t look like they’re a size G,” Fred said helpfully. As if HE’d know. A lot of the swelling is under my arms, too, which of course effects the measurement.

So, to recap: I’m still pretty swollen, I have to wear the head compression garment for the next little while AND keep my arms wrapped. I have a scabby scalp. I’m mostly off the narcotics. And I’m feeling very little pain now.

If you’re going to have any kind of plastic surgery, I have two bits of advice for you:

1. Keep the hell away from that scale for at least a month. I weighed myself last week and found that I was up TEN POUNDS from the day before surgery. I am fully aware that I haven’t gained real weight – that it’s due to all the swelling. And yet, seeing ten extra pounds on the scale was a nasty surprise.

2. Don’t look at yourself in the mirror for at least a month, preferably two. Before that, you just look like a big swollen beast, you’ll obsess over how your boobs DO NOT LOOK LIKE BOOBS and your arms OH MY GOD ARE STILL SO BIG and I STILL HAVE A DAMN DOUBLE CHIN, and really. No good can come of looking at yourself in the mirror. Trust me.

Oh, and a bonus third thing I just thought of:

3. Fiber is your friend. Stool softeners are your friend. ESPECIALLY if you’re on narcotics, because if you’re not on top of things, you will be a hurting unit, trust me. Get as much damn fiber down your throat as you possibly can, or you’ll be sad. Fred made a huge pot of red beans and rice for dinner yesterday, and there’s so much left over that we’ll both be eating it for lunches all this week.

Speaking of narcotics, Fred went digging in the cupboard in the kitchen where we keep some of the spillover from our medicine cabinet, and found not only a half-full bottle of Percoset left over from my hysterectomy last year, but also some from my gallbladder surgery 4 1/2 years ago. AND some Lorcet from…. I don’t remember. Maybe my lower body lift? We always tend to save the leftover pills “just in case”, and then they sit there for years.

We’re not very good druggies, I guess.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Aw, look what I found on my hard drive!


Rhyme and Corbie, out exploring the back yard!

Good ol’ Rhyme. (And good ol’ Corbie, too, of course!)


Bath time for Corbie.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


I like how, despite the fact that there are two perfectly comfy, totally empty cat beds on the table, Newt has decided instead to flop across the table itself.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Alice, trying to decide whether Loony Jake needs company (she ultimately decided that he didn’t, and went off to find more inviting places to sleep).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Miz Poo, in the foster room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: Damn those cats and their Snackin’ Time.
2007: Who knew that Hellcats enjoy ripping eyeballs from your face and then batting them around the room?
2006: Yeah, one of those days.
2005: So sue me.
2004: Always.
2003: What keeps me sane.
2002: No entry.
2001: Plants.
2000: Translation: I’m going to get a gown that will cover your fat ass.

2/22/11 – Still alive!

by @ Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life, medical crap

Poor sweet Muffin has a twisted paw that needs surgery ASAP. Please help out if you can, and if you can’t donate, help spread the word, would you?

Muffin’s ChipIn page.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Hi, y’all. Just a quick one to let you know that I am, in fact, still alive. I’m just not spending much time in front of the computer. Right now, I’m spending 99% of my time in the recliner either watching TV or snoozing through a TV show. I’ve spent a lot of time snoozing through cooking shows, and I have to say that the only cooking show hostess I can remotely stand is Giada. Everyone else annoys me.

(Well really, Giada annoys me kind of too, but she annoys me the least of any of them.)

Why, you ask, am I spending so much time watching cooking shows if they annoy me? That is an excellent question, and I don’t know. Just ’cause, I guess. If I’m gonna be cranky anyway (and OH I am plenty cranky), why not have something to blame the crankiness on?

The pain is one million times better than it was last week. I’m keeping on top of my pain medication and yes, I’m icing my sore spots occasionally, but mostly I’m just in a state of stasis where I’m waiting to be past this ridiculous healing stage and back to life as normal.

I can unequivocally tell you that if I had just had the neck lift and the breast lift, I would likely be flitting around here like nothing had happened. The biggest part of the pain I’m feeling is coming from my arm pits. I don’t know that I mentioned it before, but my arm lift was an “extended” arm lift, and so the incision on each side goes from my elbow, up my arm, through my arm pit, and down to meet the incision under my breast. As I’m finding out, there are a LOT of damn nerves located in the arm pit, and between the zings of pain my arm pits are sending out and how swollen the tops of my arms are, that’s where I’m having the biggest issues.

There are several staples at the top of each arm that will be coming out Friday, and believe you me, I’ll be taking drugs before THAT appointment.

But on the good side, the pain medication is helping (though I had to call yesterday for one more refill, and didn’t I feel like the drug-seekingest drug seeker on the planet), I’ve been taking a shower every day (even though touching my incisions to clean them still ooks me out), and every day I move a little more easily.

I’ve been sleeping in my bed since, I think, Sunday night. Maybe Saturday. There seems to be a pattern where I have a decent night followed by a bad night, then another decent night, etc. Luckily I can make up for the bad nights by snoozing in the recliner.

(The people next door brought home a dog around Christmas. They tied him or her outside, and that dog lives outside, chained up, 24/7, just a dog and his/her dog house. S/he likes to start barking at 3:00 every morning. Before surgery, I was able to sleep through it. Since surgery, since it’s directly outside my bedroom window for the most part, it wakes me up. Some mornings I just doze back off, and some mornings I fume. I don’t for the life of me understand the point of getting a dog if you’re going to just tie it outside, never take it for a walk, never let it off leash to run around. For god’s sake, it’s not like the dog could defend against home intruders or anything – anyone wanting to break into the house next door isn’t going to be stopped by that dog, since the dog can’t get even close to the house.)

Cara asked if the entirety of my neck lift was the incision under my chin. No, the incision under my chin is where the surgeon did liposuction (and now, a week and a half later, the skin at the bottom of my neck is still bruised, though it’s mostly gone). There’s an incision in front of my ears, seen here (okay, you have to look kind of close, I guess):

and then the incision goes around behind my ears, and off into my hairline, held closed by staples.

I’m still wearing the headgear on my head all the time unless I’m in the shower, and I’ll continue wearing that ’til I see the surgeon again on Friday.

I’ve got ace bandages around both of my upper arms.

I’m not wearing a sports bra at this point, but I expect that the surgeon will direct me to start wearing one when I see him on Friday.

So, that’s me. I’m healing, I’m snoozing, I’m doing fine. I don’t know when regular posting will resume again, but I would guess maybe next week, at least in a limited fashion.

Thanks, you guys, for your well wishes. They definitely help!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Reacher and Corbie, before Reacher went home with Kathy.

So Reacher went to his new home, what, two weeks ago? Yeah, I guess tomorrow makes two weeks. I really and honestly thought that he’d be scared for a couple of days, and then overcome his fear because he’s always been such a lovebug.

It hasn’t quite happened like that. Kathy’s kept me updated on how Reacher’s been doing, and he’s proving a hard nut to crack. He is FINALLY letting her pet him in the past few days.

You can read the details over at Kathy’s site.

I feel so bad both for Reacher and for Kathy and her husband and their cat Beau (who is drop-dead gorgeous, by the way). I never thought it would take so long for Reacher to come around, but what I’m learning is that I know NOTHIN’. I’ve told Kathy repeatedly that Reacher will always have a home with us if it doesn’t work out, and I was starting to think that he needed to come back here, but now he seems to slowly thawing. I hope that he really does thaw, that he starts to love them and allows them to love him. That he shows them his real lovebug nature and realizes that hey – they’re pretty awesome people and he ended up in a really good situation!

Fingers crossed!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I found a picture of Clairee and a picture of Drum on my memory stick this morning!


Silly Clairee.


Sweet Drum.

I forgot to tell y’all, but Clairee and Drum were adopted two weeks ago (the Tuesday before I had surgery) – together!!!

Yay, Drum and Clairee!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Loony Jake and Corbie, taking advantage of the weather.


Gorgeous Corbs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Miss Alice, bird watching.

Can I just tell you that I think the addition of Alice to our permanent residents was a really good decision. She’s such a little character, and I know I’ve mentioned it before, but she really seems to have brought Miz Poo out of her shell. Every day, several times a day, I catch Miz Poo PLAYING with Alice. PLAYING. Miz Poo does NOT play with other cats, so you can imagine how amazed I am by this! And as often as not, it’s Miz Poo instigating the play!

Alice’s tiny size does not hold her back at ALL. She might be half the size of the other cats, but she can jump from the floor to the kitchen counters with no problem at all. Last week she discovered the walkway and the platforms in the kitchen, and she’s been spending plenty of time curled up in the cat bed on the platform. I’ve seen Stinkerbelle looking at Alice many times, as if she can’t quite decide what Alice’s deal is.

Alice is friendly enough to me, but there’s no doubt on earth that she’s a daddy’s girl. Every day, 10 minutes before Fred gets home from work, Alice wakes up, stretches, eats, uses the litter box, and then waits for her daddy to come home.

She lubs her daddy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: Until then, may all your tunes be loony.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: I’d hate for him to be able to CLIMB things.
2006: HOT MONKEY SEX, that’s what.
2005: I can tell you this – I’m not terribly fond of my mailman right now.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: Not bad, since it’s been ten years or so since I read the play, eh?
2001: Resolutions for 2001.
2000: Well, apparently “coke” sounded like “coffee” to the Einstein taking my order.

2/18/11 – Hellooooooooo

by @ Friday, February 18th, 2011. Filed under Life, medical crap

Hi y’all!

Just a quick post to let you know that I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m grumpy, cranky, and swollen. 2008 Robyn (who recovered from the lower body lift) might disagree, but I think the recovery from this surgery is harder than that one was. I’m having a hard time getting comfortable because so many body parts are involved this time around, and because I’m an absolute idiot, I thought it prudent to take myself off the narcotic painkillers earlier this week. By the time I realized that Tylenol and Advil weren’t doing the job, I had a hell of a time getting back in front of the pain with the narcotics, and then Tuesday night I developed lower back pain so severe that I actually woke Fred up and asked him to take me to the emergency room. He suggested I call and talk to the surgeon, and in the ten minutes the surgeon talked to me, the pain pretty much went away. It came back briefly a few times, but never as bad as it was, and as of Wednesday morning it’s been completely gone. I’m going to say that chances are good that it was caused by spending so much time in the recliner, which isn’t as comfortable as it oughta be. Putting a pillow behind my back helped some, but I spend a lot of time shifting because after an hour or so, my tail bone starts hurting.

Basically, my days look like this: snooze in the recliner in front of the TV for a while, get up and move around, take a pill every four hours, drink lots of water, settle back in the recliner, rinse and repeat.

Yesterday I showered and that was nice although it was so exhausting I required a nap afterward. I tried to sleep in my bed last night, but couldn’t get comfortable, so ended up back in the recliner. After a bad night, I tried the bed again after Fred went to work, and was able to doze for about 3 hours. That helped, but I am cranky and swollen and ready to feel better RIGHT NOW PLEASE.

I’m still not far enough out from surgery to know exactly how happy I’ll be with the results, but I suspect I’ll end up pretty happy. We took the dressing off from around my head Sunday (at the surgeon’s instructions) and I was able to see my neck. Despite the swelling, it looks good to me (ignore the Ed Grimley hair).


Higggggggggggggggggggh.

I saw the surgeon on Wednesday. He said everything looks good, and I had some stitches removed. I got me some fancy headgear that I need to wear for at least the next week so that my underchin area doesn’t swell up and stretch the skin. I’ve also got ace bandages around my upper arms. Nothing but dressing on my boobs, though, which surprised me. I had expected I’d be wearing a sports bra, but not yet (which had me a little relieved, actually, because I can’t stand the idea of pressure on them at this point.)

Speaking of my boobs, they are lower and further apart than I expected, but I believe my surgeon knows what he’s doing, so there you go. I haven’t taken a good look at everything, because due to the swelling and the stitches, nothing’s going to look like it will eventually, so why stress myself out?

This was me Wednesday. Aren’t I stylin’?

(That shirt is a men’s 5x, left over from Fred’s fat days. Thank god it’s so damn big, because I’ve got limited motion with my arms and I can’t fathom trying to put on a smaller shirt at the moment.)

The cats are being very sweet – I had to shake the can of compressed air at them a few times after I got home Saturday, but for the most part they’ve given me a wide berth. I think seeing me walking through the house with my arms held in front of me all zombie-like freaks ’em out a little. I did wake up to find Corbie nibbling gently on my finger tips the other morning.

Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to post this, take a pill, and get back into the recliner. I’ve got 20+ episodes of House on the DVR that are calling my name!

I don’t expect posting to resume anything soon – I’m spending very little time in front of the computer these days, though I check email and Twitter and Facebook every so often from my iPod – but that could change. Just wanted to let y’all know that things are fine (and I’m cranky and swollen and slightly miserable, but I know I’ll get through it okay.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Elwood would like you to know that he’s the king of the trash can!


“I’m the KING! OF! THE TRASH CAN!”


“King! Of! The! Trash! ::slip:: ”


“I meant to do that.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: Gone for a week and a day and THAT GODDAMN UTERUS is still makin’ my life difficult!
2009: I held up four fingers. “I. Have. A. TOTAL. Of. Four. Buckets. Of. Litter.” I said slowly.
2008: This is my “What the fuck am I supposed to do here with this board that isn’t as tall as the others?” face.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Amazon is the Jonathan Baker of boyfriends.
2004: I could have crowned myself “The Queen of Fuck.”
2003: Because M&Ms rock, and so does my husband.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Have I mentioned that three-day weekends rock? They surely do.

pic021411_1.jpg

by @ Monday, February 14th, 2011. Filed under Life


pic021411_1.jpg, originally uploaded by RobynAnderson.

This is an MMS message.

Easy listening songs of the 80s? Yes, please, Time Life!

Home

by @ Saturday, February 12th, 2011. Filed under Life

Robyn is home, doing well, and hopes no one was worried because her husband forgot to post an update yesterday.

2/11/11 – Friday

by @ Friday, February 11th, 2011. Filed under Life, medical crap

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Woohoo, the day is finally here!!!!

I’m leaving here in a bit to go have all the droopy parts of my body relocated to their correct locations! AND ABOUT TIME, I SAY!

(Skimmers: I am about to have plastic surgery: neck lift, breast lift, upper arm lift. Resume skimming.)

I don’t have any idea when I’m going to feel like posting again – the upper arm lift may very well make it uncomfortable for me to spend much time at the computer. Then again, I may do nothing BUT sit at the computer. Who the hell knows?

Your best bet is to keep an eye on my Twitter – I imagine I’ll be posting there more than anywhere else. If I recall correctly, I posted on Twitter many times while I was recovering from my hysterectomy last year, and only stopped because my battery ran down. Here’s you a widget if you don’t want to haul yourself over to Twitter; you can just keep coming back here and checking.


I very well may post entries from the surgery center, too – I posted some with awful, blurry pictures last year via Flickr. If this overnight goes like the last two overnights-after-surgery that I’ve had, I’ll doze, wake up, Tweet, change the channel on the TV, doze, wake up, Tweet, watch TV, peer at the clock to see if it’s almost time to go home, see I was only dozing for five minutes, and so forth.

So, in summary: off I go, I’ll see you when I see you, and I’ll be 347% perkier!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Is it my imagination or is Fred’s hair longer and/or darker in that picture?

It’s longer, but the color hasn’t changed since then. It was from a picture taken a few years ago. This one, to be exact (which explains the smug look on Fred’s face) :

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Awesome video for you. Hope you haven’t already seen it!

I hadn’t – and I love it!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Is Miz Poo still your favorite cat?

Of course she is! She’s my BABY. Speaking of Miz Poo, I don’t know what’s going on with her lately, but she appears to be feeling GOOD. She’s running around playing, she’s jumping up on counters and other high places (she’s never been much of a jumper), she’s dragging toys through the house keening at the top of her lungs. It’s like she’s hit her second kittenhood!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

You do realize that you now have 13 permanent residents. I’m not a particularly superstitious person but, I think this may give you the ammunition you need to make Corbie a permanent resident too :-). Fourteen just sounds sooo much better. Enjoy your new girl!

I’m not going to argue that we need to keep Corbie – but I will say that we don’t see Coltrane all that often. He’ll spend the night inside if it’s particularly cold out, but for the most part we only see him for a little while in the afternoon and evening. I don’t think he necessarily TRULY belongs in the “Permanent Residents” category, but if he showed up at the door with one eyeball hanging out, we’d take him to the vet. So if feeding him, letting him in the house, and taking him to the vet when necessary makes him permanent, I guess he is. (But he really isn’t.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

One of my cats looks astonishingly like Stinkerbelle – and my cat is a frightfully hefty young lady. She has a little tiny delicate head, pretty petite princess paws, but when she walks down the hallway her gut swings from side to side, and when she sits in the position Stinkerbelle is in, her hind feet have to be sprawled to accommodate the belleh. She has never been fed any more or any different from the other cats, and I don’t see her spending all that much time at the trough.

I had another cat (years and years ago) who also started out nearly completely white and grew into her soft, smoky colors as she got older, and also with the lovely blue eyes, and that cat too was a massive beast. I mean, like, she had her own gravitational pull, she was so fat.

All of which leads me to wonder: Is Stinkerbelle on the plus-size-side too (she kind of looks like it in that picture but it could just be the angle) and if so, do you think it could be linked somehow to that particular type of coloration? Anyone have any more data points?

Stinkerbelle is actually not a fat cat – she’s rather small in stature, and I think her weight fits her size just about right. These pics were taken in the last week or two.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I have something interesting I learned today and was hoping you would share with your readers. Long story short, due to my husband’s illness this year (throat cancer) he had a g-tube (stomach tube for feeding liquid food through. He weaned himself off the tube YAY! and is eating by mouth again. So what to do with the 300 + cans of Jevity 1.2 that were left? We called Hospice, the hospital and Doctor’s office (That stuff is EXPENSIVE!) and we couldn’t return it to the home medical supply store. Hospice took some, the hospital took some but they directed us to the local humane society! Apparently they feed the liquid nutrition food to puppies or kitties and nursing mothers! Who would have thunk it! (This is NOT the Ensure or similar type drinks you buy on a shelf at a pharmacy or Target, this is usually from a home medical care supply facility filled by script.)

Not that I wish ill on any of your readers or their loved ones or their neighbors or friends, but people get sick, have stomach tubes and then get better or pass on and loved ones are stuck trying to figure out what to do with all the leftover stuff (Hospice took all the other sealed medical supplies btw). So, that might help both the animal babies and people trying to do the right thing. Because it usually expires within 6 months or so, many medical facilities cannot use it quick enough and if someone is unlucky as we are to wind up with so many extra cans (he, thank goodness, recovered quicker than anticipated!) they might could do the same. So, we were able to share with people and animals today! Just a thought that I thought your readers might tuck away in case they ever were in a position to need to know something like that.

I’m glad to hear that your husband is doing well – and thanks for the tip, I’m glad to share!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I figured it out (before the giveaways in the comments, heh), but I have to admit it’s a little bit of a let down. Not that I didn’t figure it would happen and not that I’m not happy for y’all and for Alice, but… well, with all those exclamation points, I honest to God was looking oh-so-carefully at the books listed in your Goodreads section, and checking out every link in the “me, elsewhere.” I was certain you’d gotten a book deal of some sort and had been keeping it hush-hush until it was in print, and it had debuted on Friday and made the NYT Bestseller List over the weekend. Or that now that she’s got her own network, Oprah decided to do a reality show about animal foster parents, and you had signed a contract for a minimum of 30 episodes (Oprah having paid you significantly more than the other cast members, because you could also bring in those viewers with an interest in cooking, WLS, the necessary surgical touchups after WLS, and chickens).

I’m still HAPPY and all, it’s just… the NYT Bestseller list! and Oprah! There is a bit of mindset-adjustment that needs to happen before I can be properly excited, is all.

From your mouth to god’s – uh, I mean OPRAH’s – ear! 🙂

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

NO!!!!!!! I wanted Alice! Damn. Now I have to be all jealous every time you post a new picture. I know…she’s better off there, etc. etc., but I can still be sad. Congratulations. humph.

You gotta move faster than that if you want a Crooked Acres kitty! May I offer you Elwood as a consolation prize?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Clearly you are a saint because I almost crucified the Bunny for pissing/shitting in the dog’s bed last night. If he starts spraying, I may actually get out my tiny hammer and my tiny cat-paw-nails out! *Gives evil eye to ancient pain-in-the-ass old cat!* There are few things in this forsaken world I hate more than the laundromat, and I had to spend the whole morning there, washing a goldang dog bed. You are a saint for not murdering Spanky on the spot when you saw him saunter up and lift his tail. If I see the slightest tail twitch, I’m hollering and stamping my feet like a lunatic.

Gah! I hate cat piss!!!

I am no fan of cat pee, but with the ungodly amounts we were dealing with, I figured I’d better learn to sigh, clean it up, and move on or I’d have a stroke.

(I really thought I was going to have a stroke when Spanky peed RIGHT IN FUCKING FRONT OF ME.)

Following a couple of suggestions last week, I put a litter box back in the guest bedroom, and I put calming collars on Joe Bob and Spanky. The amount of spraying has dropped considerably. I’m going to put calming collars on Sugarbutt and Elwood (I don’t know that Elwood’s one of the offenders, but he’s been picking on Kara and just generally acting like an asshole, so I figured a collar probably wouldn’t hurt) and hopefully between the collars, the litter box, and the Feli-Way, the spraying will stop. Fingers crossed!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stephen King had some comments about the news of the big screen version of The Stand:

10 Things I Know about the Remake of The Stand.

Have you guys started mentally casting it? I don’t get casting older men for Trashcan Man; I always pictured him to be fairly young, as in less than 25!

I thought Matt Frewer was a decent Trashcan Man, but you’re right, he needs to be younger.

We have not begun our casting sessions as of yet. But did you hear that Javier Bardem was offered the role of Roland of Gilead? I’m actually okay with that casting – and I also think Viggo Mortensen would have been a good choice as well!

Miz Poo is hoping she’s up to play Musty in The Dark Tower.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

My cat, Kiefer, loves my fleece blankets. I now have two throws that I use to sleep in my recliner. Don’t ask why I sleep in a chair!! Anyway, he makes biscuits and does unmentionable things to the blankets even while I’m under them! I saw a fleece snuggle sack at Petsmart and I bought it immediately.

Problem: All the cats totally ignore it. I tried spraying catnip on it. The fleece is exactly like my blankets. I’m going to sleep with the sack next to my body tonight thinking it just doesn’t smell right.

Anyone have any ideas how I can entice Kiefer to make his biscuits on the snuggle sack?

Do you have any catnip – not the spray, the dry crumbly herb? I’d try sprinkling that on it just to get them to give it a try, and I think your idea of sleeping with it next to you is a good one. It may just take time – sometimes when I bring something new home, the cats act like I’ve brought home some sort of torture device, and they won’t go near it. Then time goes by and all of a sudden they all LOVE it.

How about it, readers – anyone got suggestions for encouraging Kiefer to do his kneading on the snuggle sack?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

She only really counts as half a cat right? Since she is so tiny:) One of my 3 is a teeny cat too, about 5 pounds and 6 yrs old, and she rules the roost here.

and

Alice is a fractional cat, so if you round down….

Alice is a fractional cat, and Coltrane’s only here a fractional amount of time – between the two of them, they make one cat. Which means we really only have 12 permanent residents? No? 🙂

Seriously, with Reacher and Rhyme gone, it’s ridiculously quiet around here. It’s been almost a year since Fred brought home the Bookworms (mid-March is when that happened), and so for the better part of the year, we’ve had at least the four Bookworms plus whatever other fosters we had. At the moment, we’re at the lowest number of cats in residence in almost a year.

And it’s QUIET.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Kara would like me to know that she’s got her eye on that smug little princess brat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: I always forget how much I enjoy Roseanne.
2009: I expect to see Jack Bauer sidling across the background wearing his man purse.
2008: We watched as fucko stopped, picked something up, and went back to his own property.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Why she felt the need to ostentatiously walk up and down the property line so many times instead of just coming over and talking to Fred, I have no idea.
2004: Interesting how that works, no?
2002: Woulda made a good picture.
2001: No entry.
2000: Have you ever noticed that if you read or say the same word over and over, it ceases to make any kind of sense?

2/10/11 – Thursday

by @ Thursday, February 10th, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Yesterday was apparently my heavy lifting day. I went up into town and stocked up on bird seed, and then I stocked up on Diet Coke, and then I stocked up on cat food. That won’t get us all the way through the next six weeks ’til I can lift all that heavy stuff again, but it should buy us a few weeks.

Every time I go in for surgery or am going to Maine (or Pennsylvania), I get into this kind of obsessive mindset and decide that there’s one thing that I ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE RIGHT NOW.

This time around, that one thing was a travel pillow – you know, those u-shaped pillows that support your head when you’re sleeping upright? Well, I’ll be sleeping in the recliner for at least a while, so I absolutely HAD TO HAVE one of those pillows. Tuesday when I was on my way home from the recycling center, I stopped by Walmart to see if they had any. They had one, a memory foam pillow, but it was in a box I couldn’t open without breaking the tape, and I wanted to try it on for size and make sure it wouldn’t be too tight around my neck or bother my ears or anything.

(I’m going to have incisions around my ears, and I imagine that having a pillow squeeze on those would be annoyingly painful.)

Yesterday, I ran to Kohl’s to see if THEY had one of those pillows. They’re renovating the store, so I wandered around the pillow section for a while. I had just decided they didn’t have any of the travel pillows and was about to walk out the door when it hit me that – dur – I should maybe look in the section with the suitcases and such. I did, and they did have a couple, so I bought one.

NOW what’m I gonna obsess about ’til tomorrow morning?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Okay, so, the story on Reacher.

First, I have to tell you a sad back story. Do you remember Maura? We had her about a year ago, got her while I was recovering from my hysterectomy. We thought she was pregnant, but as it turned out, she was never pregnant, was just a bit tubby and enjoying the attention and extra food she was getting from we morons who thought for sure she was going to drop those babies ANY moment.

Kathy adopted Maura in May and took her home to Birmingham. Maura settled in quickly, and things were going just fine (Maura was a total lovebug). And then, sadly, Maura passed away unexpectedly while I was in Maine last July. I got the email from Kathy while I was in Maine, and I intended to write about her when I got home, but I never did.

So that is very sad news, but it does lead to good news: Kathy and her husband decided that they were ready to adopt again, and I suggested Reacher because I fully believe that once he’s past his fear of being in a new home, he will reveal his sweet loving nature – like I’ve told Kathy repeatedly, Reacher is a lover of people AND cats; not surprising, since he’s grown up in this house where kittens come and go regularly. Kathy has a boy cat, Beau, who needs a friend, and I think that once things have settled down they’ll end up the best of friends.

And, of course, if for any reason it doesn’t work out, Reacher will always have a home with us.

The good thing about this, of course, is that I can harass Kathy for updates on how Reacher’s doing! And you know I’ll be sure to pass it along to y’all.

Kathy arrived around 7:30 last night to pick up Reacher. As soon as she stepped through the door, Reacher vamoosed. I sent Fred upstairs with the carrier to get him while Kathy signed the adoption papers. We talked for a few moments, and in that time Reacher went from trying to dig his way out of the carrier to laying down and looking fairly relaxed.

I missed him as soon as he was gone, but I know he’s going to a great home and I think he’s going to be very happy.

I snapped a few last pictures of him, of course.


A last snuggle with the princess.


Tommy makes sure he’s spiffied up for his new mom.


Snuggling with Tom.


And an absolutely terrible picture I snapped, right before they left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


And then there was one (Bookworm). Corbie wonders if this means he gets Reacher’s snackin’?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Princess Alice of Smugonia, hoggin’ the Permanent Residents section of the posts. Smugly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: GOODBYE, ORGAN THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED! DON’T LET THE CERVIX HIT YOU IN THE TUBES (?) ON YOUR WAY OUT!
2009: Usually, Fred’s Ross and I’m Chandler. Or Joey. Except that I’m kinda ditzy like Phoebe. I am an amalgam of Friends characters!
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Unless maybe it’s a magic leotard and the source of all her powers?
2005: “Life’s too fucking short to read books that suck.”
2004: Damn you, DVR! I WANT to love you, but you’re toying with my emotions!
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I’m not sure what effect, if any, it had on her.

2/9/11 – Wednesday

by @ Wednesday, February 9th, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Where’s my Mama?”, starring Reacher.


“Is that my Mama? Oh. No, that’s a bird.”


“Is THAT my Mama? Oh. No, that’s the dog who lives next door. Where’s my Mama?”


“My Mama is NOT behind this bucket.”


“My Mama is NOT over in that corner of the yard chattering at squirrels. That’s Corbie.”


“My Mama is not IN the bucket!”


“Dude! She’s not up here!”


“I’ll take a nap while I’m waiting. Then I need to get gussied up in my finest finery!”


“Hm. This seems a little small. Perhaps I’ve gained a little weight since I had my special going-home outfit commissioned!”


“Maybe I need to eat a little and let my super-special going-home vest stretch a bit.”


“I just don’t get this high-fashion nonsense. Is it supposed to fit like this? I guess so…”


“Okay, Mama! I’m ready for you!”

Patience, Reacher-Creature. She’ll be here before the end of the day, weather willing!

I forgot to mention that Reacher and Corbie turned one yesterday. Happy birthday, sweet boys!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


“I don’t know who his Mama is, but he can’t have MY DADDY.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: The worst part of having surgery is having to wait for it to be time to HAVE the surgery.
2009: “They’re rejects from the nursery!”
2008: No entry.
2007: Beach Roses (fiction).
2006: Giggling like that is EXACTLY something Fred would do.
2005: Taking the day off.
2004: I don’t believe I mentioned that the Bean has tapeworms.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: And I yelled “Any fucking thing else?!”, addressing, I guess, God.
2000: Okay, so I don’t have much to say today.

2/8/11 – Tuesday

by @ Tuesday, February 8th, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I spent this past weekend in a flurry of cooking. We should now be all set for dinners for at least the next month, if not longer. The freezer is packed with dishes that Fred only has to let thaw and then bake for a specified amount of time, since I won’t be able to lift anything for a while.

(Funny enough, my entry from a year ago talks about how I spent the previous weekend cooking meals to freeze so Fred wouldn’t have to cook while I recovered from my hysterectomy! My hysterectomy was on 2/10/10. My surgery this year is on 2/11/11. I wonder what’s in store for 2/12/12??)

The house will be cleaned from top to bottom on Thursday, including litter boxes, and what laundry there is will be done. I’m going to move my couch to the other end of the room, and Fred will bring the recliner down from upstairs for me. I suspect (if past surgical recoveries are anything to judge by) that in the recliner is where I’ll be sleeping for at least the first week.

Now if Friday would just GET HERE already, I’d be happy!

We went up into town Saturday afternoon to visit the liquor store. I ordered some fancypants vanilla beans from Penzey’s a few weeks ago, because I wanted to make my own vanilla extract. I’ve done it in small bottles in the past and loved the result, but I bake a lot and go through vanilla pretty quickly, so I wanted to do the big-bottle version of it.

I don’t drink, I’m sure I’ve mentioned. I haven’t had any alcohol since before my weight loss surgery in 2006, and it was probably at least a couple of years before that that I’d had any. In theory I like the occasional strawberry daiquiri, but after I had weight loss surgery, I was at first worried what the effect would be on my system, and these days I’m not interested enough in it to give it a try.

That said, I have to say that when we walked into the ABC store to buy a bottle of vodka, everything in there looked like it would be VERY tasty. I was walking around thinking “We should get some of that! And that! And that!” before Fred dragged me over to the wall o’ vodka. I have zilch experience with buying liquor, so we had to have a long discussion about which liquor was better and which was the rotgut stuff. We ended up getting a bottle that wasn’t quite top end stuff, but close to it.

(I’d tell you the name brand, but I don’t remember and I don’t want to get up and look.)

I’m suddenly reminded that once upon a time – I must have been… maybe 26? – I decided that I needed to have a signature drink. And I’m a badass, right? So one evening when my sister and I went out for dinner, I ordered scotch on the rocks.

Ugh. Gad. NAS-TAY.

I think I’ll stick with Diet Coke, thanks.

ANYway, I got my big bottle of vanilla extract made, and now it’s steeping in the cabinet for about three months, needing to be shaken every so often. I put reminders in my Google Calendar so I’ll remember to shake it at least once a week.

Speaking of, I had forgotten what kind of alcohol I needed in order to make the extract, and so I did a Google search, and someone had instructions on how to make extract to give for gifts. The last step in the process, after letting it steep for a few months, was to pour the liquid through a filter to remove the specks of vanilla from the extract.

Really? REALLY? There are people who’d take the vanilla specks OUT of the extract? So if I make extract to give as gifts, should I filter the vanilla specks out? Because that seems odd to me. My favorite part of home-made extract are those tasty little flecks!

What say you guys? If someone gave you a bottle of homemade vanilla extract and there were specks of vanilla floating around, would you be all “Ewwww, vanilla specks!” or “Vanilla specks! Awesome!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

We are working our way through Sons of Anarchy, currently about halfway through the second season. Last night we were watching the one where

SPOILERS IN THIS NEXT LITTLE SECTION

the guys are in jail, and Clay and Jax are fighting, and what the hell was that dance Jax was doing? He’d punch Clay and then go reeling away from Clay and stumble around and then go back at Clay. I called it his “Gumby dance”, and Fred and I guffawed through the rest of the scene.

SPOILERS OVER

So Tara was angry or upset about something – which is not uncommon for Tara, amiright? – and I’ve been thinking all along that she really reminds me of someone, and finally last night it hit me just who she looks like.


Resemblance is uncanny, no?

(Note: I did not like Tara at ALL during the first season, but she’s really growing on me during season 2.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Okay, most of you guessed the exciting news!

Last week, I talked to the shelter manager about Alice. We had put her on Prednisone to see if that would help the wheeziness. It didn’t, and the vet said that likely the scar tissue that was spotted at the top of Alice’s trachea was responsible for the occasional congested-sounding noises Alice was making. Since it didn’t bother Alice and the Prednisone wasn’t helping, there was probably nothing to be done.

I told her that Alice had had all her vaccinations and we decided that Alice was ready to go to Petsmart. But I knew that Fred had gotten attached to her, so I said that I’d double-check with him, and let her know what the deal was with Alice.

Long story short, I talked to Fred and we dithered back and forth over whether to add Alice to the permanent residents. I wasn’t resistant to the idea, honestly, but I wanted to know, one way or the other. He wouldn’t commit – wouldn’t actually say “I want to keep her”, and in fact said that if she were being adopted directly from our house and was going to someone else’s house without having to spend time at Petsmart, he’d be okay with that – and so I emailed and said “Alice is ready when there’s room.”

Well. There was room for Alice on Friday! So I packed her up and brought her bed and her stuffed Tigger, and took her to Petsmart. She was glad to see Rhyme, and she ran and hid when I first let her out of the carrier, but after a few minutes she was walking around exploring, her tail straight up in the air.

When Fred got home from work that afternoon, he immediately began saying I should go get Alice back and bring her home. WELL. I figured if he was THAT desperate to get her home again, he could very well go into Huntsville and get her himself! We talked, we dithered, we went back and forth, and then we went to bed without having made a decision.

The next morning, we dithered some more. And then finally Fred said “I think we should go get her.”

And so we did. Alice Nelson – just “Alice” for now – is the latest permanent resident to join the Anderson household. She loves Fred with a passion (but if he’s not around, she’s friendly enough to me, too) and he loves her back.

This is the EXACT same way we ended up with Stinkerbelle, by the way. As several people have pointed out to me, apparently the way to stay around for good is to suck up to Fred!

(Those of you who weren’t able to figure it out, you’ll note that Alice’s picture was moved out of the “fosters” list, and in fact if you went to the foster page about her, it says at the bottom that we’d adopted her on the 5th. She has her very own Permanent Residents page, too.)

Yes, I did say last week that we needed to reduce the number of cats in this house. HOWEVER, if you consider that at one point last Fall I was 99% sure we were going to end up keeping all four Bookworms, this means we’re actually DOWN from where we were.

(Fred calls that “Robyn math”!)

(Also, we didn’t have a calitabby yet. We needed one for the collection!)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

So. Aaaaaactually, there wasn’t just one thing that was AMAZING news this weekend. There were TWO things.

You know the first one, that we decided to keep Alice.

The second? Reacher will be going to his forever home later this week. I’m not going to give you the details yet, because I don’t want to jinx it. You know how I am. Suffice it to say that he’s going to a great home and I know he’s going to be spoiled rotten. I’ll give you more details once he’s gone home.

With Buster being adopted last Fall and Rhyme being adopted last weekend, this leaves us with one Bookworm, Corbie.

At the moment, Corbie is still our foster. I don’t think it would surprise any of you if he ended up staying permanently – but for now, he’s still classified as a foster, he’s still available for adoption, and he’s post on Petfinder.

We never expected someone to see Buster’s picture in the book at the adoption center, so it’s possible it could happen with Corbie, too! We’ll see.


Corbie and Reacher, fighting.


Reacher is not a small cat – he’s a big chunk of man. I told the people who were thinking of adopting Rhyme and Corbie last month that I called them Small (Corbie), Medium (Rhyme) and Large (Reacher). Fred says Reacher is shaped like a Who in Whoville (that’s a How the Grinch Stole Christmas reference), which led me to dub him Reachie Lou Who.


Brudders.


::thlurrrp::


Corbie’s face cracks me UP.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


She might be little, but it doesn’t stop the princess from getting where she wants to go. She climbed into the utility sink to sniff around.


“What?”


“You’re not my daddy. YOU can’t tell me what to do!” Brat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

You’ve heard of Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice?

(Just say “yes”)

Meet…


Corbie & Robyn & Fred & Alice.

(Thanks to Jean, who was inspired and whipped this up over the weekend. It cracks me up every time I look at it, particularly that smug look on Fred’s face!)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: I don’t know how on earth we’re ever going to dig out from under all that.
2009: No entry.
2008: Which of your cats, if they were human, would you actually want to hang around the most?
2007: I judiciously left off the “You fucking motherfucking asshole.” part.
2006: And then the spud said “Is he trying to go to Narnia?”
2005: I’ll take my anonymous life, thank you.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: “What?” he said. “I WASN’T geeky!”
2001: No entry.
2000: Tomorrow, I’m going to go see Dr. Judy for my ear, out of which I still cannot hear anything but constant white noise.

2/7/11 – Monday

by @ Monday, February 7th, 2011. Filed under Fostering, Life

Okay, just a super-quick one this morning. I got stuff to do! It was a VERY good weekend!

Alice and Rhyme were both adopted on Saturday!

Drum and Clairee were not – but there was some interest in them, so they may very well be adopted on Tuesday. Fingers crossed.

Here are the rest of the Drum and Clairee pics I took. I’m telling you, these cats are so lovely, I couldn’t stop taking pictures of them!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I have NEWS!!!! for y’all, but I want to be able to take my time writing about it, so I’m saving it for tomorrow. HOWEVER!!!

::waving hands wildly::

if you look around carefully and pay attention to your SURROUNDINGS, so to speak, you may be able to figure it out.

::cutting eyes to the left and right::

(Those of you who already know, don’t spoil it! You may, however, do a “Nyah, nyah, nyah, IIIIIIIIII know what it is!” dance in the comments if you’d like!)

Here, have some more exclamation points!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

See you tomorrow!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 


Miz Poo, in the foster room. That is the BEST room in the house for fosters, it gets lots of morning sun. And when there are no fosters in there, the permanent residents like to hang out and soak up the sun.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Previously
2010: Petsmart kitties.
2009: “IF I GET PIG SHIT ON ME, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!”
2008: Please don’t tell me she’s a flighty mess in real life.
2007: She became entirely liquid somehow, and flowed through my fingers and across the room, ending up under the bed.
2006: I think that the next thing Apple should create is a cell phone/ iPod player.
2005: Yes, I use the same kind of lotion as my CAT.
2004: No entry.
2003: Anyway. Enough about my underwear.
2002: You’ve been warned, skank hos out there who would swoop down upon my husband in his grief and get him to marry you.
2001: Yeah, that’s me, not giving a shit if they can see me or not…
2000: Really, what other journaller will thrill you with pictures from the litter box?

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