Time to let me know if you want a holiday postcard! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to email@example.com .
I’ll take names and addresses until December 20th.
If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.
I share this picture of yours smugly (please ignore the desperately-needing-to-be-colored hair) so that Nance can be horrified at the size of my earrings, which I bought solely to horrify her (well also, I like them). I think for Christmas, I’ll just bedazzle a couple of kittens and hang them from my ears and call it done.
Okay, just a quick one. A few pictures from Thanksgiving Day, and then some pictures (with captions) from a reader who cracked me UP, and then I bid you adieu ’til Monday. Sound good?
We went to Fred’s sister’s house for Thanksgiving. Their Dad and stepmother were there, too, as well as Fred’s nephew, who’s in his 20s. We got there around 10:30, and were home by a little after 2. We would have stayed later, but we were seriously ready to fall asleep after dinner.
Fred’s sister has two little long-hair dachshunds who are super cute, but all kinds of wiggly and it was hard to get a decent picture of them. The bigger of the two was pretty amorous and apparently really liked my leg. Like, seriously. I think my leg is engaged.
It would have been more annoying if the amorous dog was a Great Pyr or some other large breed (no, George doesn’t do that. He’s a gentleman!), but in this case I was able to just kind of push Amorous Andy off me with very little effort.
Then we came home and did this for a couple of hours (which is what Thanksgiving afternoon is FOR, after all) :
and that was our Thanksgiving, in a nutshell.
It is my plan to not step one single toe into a store until sometime next week. You loons who are hitting the Black Friday sales today, good luck to you.
I got an email from reader Robin the other day that cracked me up.
Read your blog every day . . . you make me howl!
But since I’ve been reading you blog we’ve added 3 cats ! Which takes us up to a grand total of 6! I know, I know . . . only half of what you have but dang!
So . . . . with that being said . . . last month we travelled to NC to watch our daughter ride. (she is in college and competes on the western team). I called her one last time to see if has remembered anything else she forgot and wants us to bring. After a couple minutes of chit chat, I ask the question and her response . . .two words . . . cat carrier. My thoughts . . . . FUCKME. I say nothing to her dad . . the less said the better. Cat carrier makes it to the truck and he says ” what’s that for?”, i say “what’s what for?”, he says “the cat carrier”, i say “what???” He’s not dumb, we’ve been doing this dance for 25 years and he knows. In one last feeble attempt he says “we’re not keeping it . . . . right?”, I say “right”. AHAHAHAHAHAHA
My plan was to have it vetted and hand it off to our friends a few farms down for their barn. It’s been six weeks and we are the proud owners of Dr. Perry Cox, TM (trouble maker) Light of my life, pain in my ass, cock bird to our hen house! He’s not going anywhere, I’ve nursed him back to health and I think the boys like the extra testosterone (even though they won’t admit it) that is currently coursing through the sea of estrogen that is our house . . .
Below are a couple pictures of Dr. Cox . . . thought you might enjoy.
Dr. Perry Cox, if the name doesn’t ring a bell, was the Scrubs character played by John C. McGinley. I loved that show – at least until the last couple of years, when the entire cast left.
Thanks for sharing, Robin!
Lest you forget the beauty of young mister Corbie:
(Ahem, Andrea, you’ll note that Corbie fits nicely in a medium flat-rate box. Which leads one to believe that Charlie would fit nicely and there would even be room for a tiny litter box and maybe some food! Just saying.)
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: Unhappy because I hadn’t found any curtains, I actually texted “Curtains, Huntsville, Alabama” to Google, who texted me back, in essence, “Wtf?”
2007: I am vowing to be more organized in 2008.
2006: No entry.
2005: All I can guess is that with the holiday season coming on, our defenses are low, and we go a little crazy with the kitten love.
2004: No entry.
2003: I think our kitchen is cursed.
2002: Me, behind the wheel of a minivan? Watch out, Nashville!
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: So, I got a kitten.