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7/19/12

by @ Thursday, July 19th, 2012. Filed under Life

Y’all, talk to me about garlic. Burpees tells me it’s time to start thinking ahead about Fall crops, and as garlic is supposed to be planted in the Fall, I’m thinking about it. (I’m very obedient.) Do I want hardneck or softneck? I’m thinking hardneck because I read somewhere that it stores longer, but then I read that softneck lasts longer, so what the hell? I know zilch about garlic aside from the fact that I like it, and I’m not planning to go hog wild with the growing of it, just want to plant some for my first try at it. So my ears are open, give me some advice, and if you have a favorite variety, let me know. I’m willing to try anything!

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Look. I know you probably can’t tell this, but I try not to be a snob. I really really try. But when it comes to things like casting the tiny Tom Cruise as Jack Reacher, I can’t get on board. I mean, COME ON. Jack Reacher is a huge hulk of a man. Tom Cruise is a tiny, elfin thing.

(Okay, I exaggerate. But seriously, he is neither huge nor hulking.)

I hoped and prayed that I’d be proven wrong – I wanted to be proven wrong, I did! – but after viewing the trailer, I’m concluding that Tom Cruise is no Jack Reacher. Not only is he too small, but his voice is too high, and he’s trying too hard when he says “Remember, you asked for this.” He’s too obviously ACTING, because Jack Reacher would say that sentence without trying to make it sound menacing – and it would make you shit your pants. When Tom Cruise says it, trying too hard, it just makes me want to boop him in the nose, all “Oooh, little man, who’s the little man? Who’s going to kick my ass? I’m soooooo scared!”

David Morse would have been an excellent Reacher (though I think he’s probably too old for it now). Now THERE is a man who can be menacing without having to work at it.

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Recently, after being repeatedly warned that Dish Network would no longer be carrying AMC, and knowing that one of the best shows ever – Breaking Bad – airs on AMC, we switched from Dish Network to DirecTV (or however the hell they capitalize it).

What a friggin’ undertaking. When Fred called DirecTV to sign up with them, he was on the phone for something ridiculous like 45 minutes. He finally got done with that call, which was basically just setting up the appointment to have it installed, and from then on the phone rang what seemed like constantly. An automated call to let us know that we’d set up the appointment for this day and this time. An automated call to remind us again. Another automated call to remind us that the appointment was the next day. A call in the morning to make sure someone would be home. The installer called later in the morning to let us know what approximate time he’d be here. A call when he was on the way. And then? A call to ask if the house number was on the mailbox. (At that point, I was able to say “You should be able to see a man in a red shirt mowing the lawn. That’s the house.”)

They got it hooked up and the guy left and then we discovered that the DVR they’d installed, rather than being the one that can record five (!) things at once, was the regular, boring two-things-at-once DVR. I was not having this, not because we necessarily need to record five (!) things at once, but because there have been many times when we’ve needed to record three things at once, but couldn’t and thus had to decide which show to skip. So Fred had to call and make another appointment for another installer to come out. Cue the incessant phone calls.

In the meantime, since we had our DirecTV service set up, Fred called Dish Network to cancel. Weren’t they so very sad, Dish Network was, that after they gave Fred the BULLSHIT spiel about how Dish wasn’t REALLY going to drop AMC, they were still in negotiations, blah de blah (which is total bullshit, as they do NOT carry AMC any longer), to find out that Fred had already signed the contract with DirecTV and there was nothing Dish was going to be able to say to change that. So they told Fred that they’d send a kit to us so we could send the DVR, remote, and something else from the satellite dish back to them.

For the next week, we got calls from Dish letting us know that our mailing kit was on the way and that if we didn’t send their shit back to them within 30 days, there’d be a charge. Every fucking day, multiple times a day.

I started referring to Dish as “our psycho ex-boyfriend” and DirecTV as “our insecure new boyfriend.” After Dish called, I’d hang up and say “That was our psycho ex-boyfriend letting us know that he still wants his shit back.” After DirecTV called, I’d hang up and say “Our insecure new boyfriend wants to make sure we’ll really show up for our date.”

Of course, as soon as DirecTV got the new DVR installed, we started getting the “How’d we do?!” calls. And once Dish got their shit back, they stopped calling, though they’re still sending letters in the mail trying to woo us back. “Dear Fred Anderson, We’ll do anything to get you back!” they say. Yeah? Okay, buy out our two year contract with DirecTV, start carrying AMC again, and give us the cool five-tuner DVR. Somehow when they say they’ll do “anything”, they mean “anything but that.”

Do I love DirecTV more than Dish? Well, the DVR that records five things at once is cool, as is the three months of free HBO, Showtime and Cinemax (I think Starz, too, but who the hell watches that channel?), but I think in the scheme of things they’re all the same.

Alls I know is that Breaking Bad premiered this week, and we were all OVER that shit. Love that damn Jesse Pinkman. Bitch.

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Previously
2011: Probably the early-onset Alzheimer’s.
2010: Things on my recent list of annoyances.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Goddamn squirrels.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: OR I may have thought to myself, well, every author is entitled to a horrid piece of excrement or two.
2001: I’ve been packing in a desultory and lazy fashion this week, and have about half the upstairs done.
2000: I think if any of the kitties lose their mind and go on a human-throat-gnawing spree, it’ll be her.

7/12/12 – Placeholder.

by @ Wednesday, July 11th, 2012. Filed under Life

Just to get the bug pics off the front page. Better, Bonnie? 🙂

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7/6/12 – Friday

by @ Friday, July 6th, 2012. Filed under Crooked Acres, Life

Warning: There are bugs in this section. Skip to the next section if bugs bug you. HA.

So, we don’t have a cap on the chimney in the front room. Actually, we did, but it blew off and then the company that put it on in the first place went out of business, and we haven’t had any luck finding someone to do it. So we put a piece of styrofoam across the bottom of the chimney and have successfully ignored the issue. Last week, Fred came downstairs in the morning and found that a big piece of a nest had fallen down the chimney with three little birds inside. They, unfortunately, were beyond saving when he found them. The nest and the baby birds were heavy enough that when they hit the styrofoam, they knocked it out of the chimney.

I should add here that there are two litter boxes in that fireplace because we needed a place for litter boxes, and we don’t use that fireplace.

The next day, I came downstairs and went into the front room to scoop those litter boxes. And then I squinted down at the litter boxes, and I said “Well, that doesn’t look right.” I turned the overhead light on, and saw the ugliest bug I’ve seen in a while, laying in one of the litter boxes (the one directly under the chimney opening).

I don’t know what it is, but I hope I never see one alive. Anyone know what it is? (I know I could search on What’s That Bug?, but I cannot look at that site without feeling like something’s CRAWLING on me for the rest of the day.)

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Just, GAH. If one of these comes flying at my face, I will tip over dead of a heart attack immediately.

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Delores, the Orb Weaver who lives in the front flower bed. I think she’s about doubled in size since she first showed up a few weeks ago.

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I know not what this is, but I think it has really pretty colors.

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I hope y’all had a fabulous 4th of July. Ours was nice – very relaxing – until the sun went down and the douchebags came crawling out of the woodwork. What is it about fireworks that attracts assholes so much, do you suppose? Some fuckwads in our area set off fireworks until MIDNIGHT. Now, Fred didn’t have to work yesterday (he took Thursday and today off so he could have a nice long stretch of time off), but surely there are SOME people in this area who had to get up early? What sucked the most was that there’d be a long enough period of silence that we’d think that they were done, and then they’d start up again. Grrr.

Combine that with the fact that Tom Cullen settled into bed against me and proceeded to spend AN HOUR licking his ass – and he is not a small cat, so when he grooms, the entire bed shakes – and it’s kind of amazing that something didn’t get shot last night, I was so irritated.

Of course, that well-known holiday July 5th follows July 4th, so we were treated to another evening of sporadic fireworks.

It sucked, but when I think of living in Madison and walking out the front door the morning after July 4th to find that the douchebag neighbors, who’d been setting off fireworks the night before, left all their fucking fireworks shit all over our front lawn, well.

I guess I can handle a little lost sleep.

(However, I don’t think it’s fair that Madison waited for me to leave to put in that Target literally 3 minutes from where we used to live. HMPH.)

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For those of you who wanted to see the “redneck” (according to Fred) pool, here it is.

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Also, the pond as of last week:

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Now that it’s full enough to keep the catfish alive, I’m trying to convince Fred that we need an aerator out there to get rid of the green crap. He doesn’t seem to agree with me that we need to do anything – of course, what will probably happen is that he’ll present the idea of an aerator for the pond to me as if he suddenly thought of it himself, and we’ll have to immediately go out and get one.

Whatever works, I s’pose.

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