Author: Robyn

Insert witty title here

The nurse just called from the operating room; her back side (and presumably backside) is done. They’ve flipped her and are starting on the front. (Fred)

The nurse just called from the operating room; her back side (and presumably backside) is done. They’ve flipped her and are starting on the front.

(Fred)

5/22/08

Before I leave for the hospital, I’m clearing out my “post this someday” folder, so I have pictures for you. Also, a couple of movies and tons of kitten pics. LUCKY YOU. Every morning, Sugarbutt has a little while where he runs around with his ass afire. I happened to catch him one day last … Continue reading “5/22/08”

Before I leave for the hospital, I’m clearing out my “post this someday” folder, so I have pictures for you. Also, a couple of movies and tons of kitten pics. LUCKY YOU.

Every morning, Sugarbutt has a little while where he runs around with his ass afire. I happened to catch him one day last week.

(Or you can see it here in MPG format.)

Also, another movie of the kittens. At 4 weeks old, they’re wild little things!

(See it here in MPG format.)

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I don’t know if it is or not, but this sure looks like Sarah Jane Morris to me.

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These squirrels drive the cats CRAZY.

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I love spring.

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Wisteria bloomed, briefly.

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Newt approves of my new bedspread.

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Rhode Island Red. These chickens have gotten so big all of a sudden.

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Pretty girl, hateful glare.

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“Hellew.”

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This kitten, I swear to god, loves to lay around with her mouth open. You don’t even have to poke at her or mess with her, she sees the camera, she just lays there with her mouth open.

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See?

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Okay, I’m outta here. See you on the flip side!

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Previously
2007: I am so old.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: More proof – not that you need it – that I am the ruler of the Kingdom of Dumbassery.
2002: I HAVE TO WAIT ‘TIL THE FALL?!
2001: So, Kaycee Nicole never existed.
2000: First off, I just have to say that my husband has the smoothest ass, ever.

5/21/08

We just finished disc 4 of Heroes, season one, and tell me this: Is Niki’s horseshit “power” going to manifest itself as something more interesting EVER, or will she just continue to be a freakishly strong multiple personality? Because I like Ali Larter, but Niki’s “power” is BO. RING. (The other night when she broke … Continue reading “5/21/08”

We just finished disc 4 of Heroes, season one, and tell me this: Is Niki’s horseshit “power” going to manifest itself as something more interesting EVER, or will she just continue to be a freakishly strong multiple personality? Because I like Ali Larter, but Niki’s “power” is BO. RING. (The other night when she broke a billy club in half, Fred said “I’d say that qualifies her as strong.” Indeed.) If Niki and Jessica manifested themselves in separate bodies so that other people could see both of them, that might be kind of impressive.

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Holy mother of god, this is the SLOWEST DAY EVER. If this next 24 hours would just up and pass, I’d be eversograteful.

After poking around Flickr, I found that you can actually send a cameraphone picture to Flickr, which will in turn post it to your blog. Therefore, before I leave for the hospital tomorrow, I’ll set this page up so that several entries can be shown on the same page, and I will surely post a couple of times from the hospital while I’m waiting to go in for surgery. I’d show Fred how to do it so he could post from the waiting room, but he’s not into that sort of thing.

We have to be at the hospital at 6:30 tomorrow, which means we’ll need to leave, I’m guessing, around 5:45ish. Which means I’ll probably get up at 4:30 so I can scoop the litterboxes and take my shower and snuggle with the kittens before we go.

Odd thing, I’ve had this itchy patch of eczema on my arm that’s been driving me crazy for a week or so and it just wouldn’t go away. I used Dial Antibacterial for the past couple of days (instructions from the doctor, use antibacterial soap on the areas that will be operated on for three days before the day of surgery. Ordinarily, I use Dove in the shower.) and the patch hasn’t bothered me since. Hmmm.

Shirley asked in my comments yesterday if I’d still be able to play with the kittens after surgery. I don’t see that there’s any way I could stay away from those babies much past Friday. If I can’t get down on the floor, I’ll make Fred drag one of the recliners in there, and they can climb up into the recliner and snuggle with me. I can’t imagine being in the same house and not spending time with them, it would drive me crazy. As far as I’m concerned, my incisions will be covered with a binder/ corset sort of thing, so they can bite and scratch at me all they want, and if it gets to be too much, I’ll put them in timeout, the little brats.

Oh, and LeighC asked how long I’ll be in the hospital. It’ll be overnight, so I’ll be released Friday morning, probably first thing. It’s technically an “outpatient” procedure, which means I’ll be in the hospital 23 hours. Less hospital costs if it’s not “inpatient”, I guess.

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Yummy things I have recently cooked:

Quick Shrimp Po’ Boys. I found this recipe in Real Simple magazine last summer and thought it looked good enough to try, so I ripped it out, stuck it in my pile of recipes-to-try, and forgot about it until recently. We had them for dinner Friday night, and they were really good. I haven’t had a lot of Po’ Boys in my time (which is kind of surprising to me, since I LOVE shrimp), so I don’t know what “real” Po’ Boys entail, but these were certainly good and worth having again. My only gripe is the amount of bread. I loathe a sandwich that doesn’t easily fit in your mouth (insert (HA HA) disgusting sexual innuendo here), and I think next time I’ll buy a baguette, remove a lot of the bread from the middle and see how that goes.

Monday night I decided to make pulled pork (also known as “Barbecue”, here in the south) because I’d recently seen this recipe. So I put the pork butt in the crock pot as soon as I got up Monday morning, ignored it until a little after 3:00, then pulled it out of the crock pot to shred it. I was dreading this part because I figured it was going to be a pain in the ass, but not SO, my friends. That stuff shredded very, very easily. It took me just a few minutes to shred it, I drained the fat from the crock pot*, mixed the shredded pork with Big Bob Gibson’s BBQ sauce, put it back into the crock pot, and Fred was so hungry an hour later that instead of having it with corn on the cob and yellow squash as I’d intended, we just made sandwiches with the stuff, and it was DIVINE.

We had it again last night, and I said to Fred, “Next year, we can have shredded pork made with OUR OWN PIGS, and we can serve it with coleslaw made from OUR OWN CABBAGE and maybe with a side of bread made in OUR OWN BREADMAKER!” We’re having it again tonight, and I don’t doubt that Fred will have it again for dinner tomorrow night. It makes a LOT, is what I’m saying.

I think this stuff is best saved for Fridays for us, though. I hadn’t realized just how fatty pork butt is (the obvious escapes me sometimes) and I did scrape off all the fat I could see when I was shredding the pork, and I did drain the fat out of the crock pot, but it was so damn good that there must have been 63,000 grams of fat per bite of the stuff. SO GOOD.

And while I’m talking about food, a few weeks ago I made a batch of Not Yo’ Momma’s Banana Pudding, and instead of slicing the bananas, I cut them up in small pieces (like small cubes), and it was really good that way. Next time, I’m going to break the graham crackers up into smaller pieces, too.

*The liquefied fat from the crock pot went into a bowl, and when Fred got home, he dumped it over some leftover moldy bread and fed it to the pigs and they LOVED it. These pigs, I’ve gotta say, are coming in handy as garbage disposals on legs.

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That goddamn mother chicken, I swear to god. She is the dumbest, least caring mother on the face of this goddamn earth, or at least on Crooked Acres, and since I have the BEST MOTHER EVER upstairs in the kitten room who will fuck you UP if you mess with her babies, I know whereof I speak.

The chicks are itty bitty and as such, can easily hop through the fence to the other side. This is generally not an issue, because Momma Chicken clucks as she moves along, and the babies hear her and stay with her and if any protecting needs to be done, she does it.

So yesterday morning I was outside filling up the bird feeders, and as always, when the flock o’ chickens saw me, they ran over to the fence and looked hopefully at me, because after I fill up the bird feeders, I give the chickens a scoop of bird seed and they pick out what they like and leave the rest for whatever birds come along.


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As I filled up the bird feeders, I glanced over and saw that the baby chickens had gone through the fence between the chicken yard and the back yard. Momma Chicken, rather than GIVING A SHIT about her babies was acting like what she is – ie, a stomach on legs – and was standing looking at me and hoping that bird seed would be forthcoming and she was nowhere near her babies.

I looked over in the clump of dead daffodils, which is where Joe Bob likes to hang out, and noted that he wasn’t looking at the baby chickens, was instead looking at the entire other side of the back yard.

I finished filling up one bird feeder and walked toward another, and glanced into the back yard again and realized to my horror that Joe Bob had seen the baby chickens and was low, crawling toward them, and moving fast.

“Joseph!” I said in a stern voice. “No!”

He acted like he couldn’t hear me, a favorite trick all the cats have perfected, and he kept on going. Momma Chicken didn’t even glance toward her babies.

“Joe, NO!” I yelled, and started running toward him. He kept going. “JOE! NO!” I bellowed, and I threw the bird seed scoop at him. It landed near him, he ran off, and the baby chickens stood there and looked confused. FINALLY, Momma Chicken remembered she had babies, and she clucked at them and they ran back into the chicken yard.

I recovered the bird seed scoop and tossed a scoop of bird seed into the chicken yard, all the time swearing up a storm and telling Momma Chicken what a useless dumbass she was.

She didn’t seem to much care about my opinion of her, though. Grrrr.

Fucking chickens.


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Yesterday morning I went into the kitten room to hang out with them before I cleaned out their litter boxes (since the plain clay litter just falls apart when it’s peed upon, I find it easiest to just dump out the litter every morning and replace it with fresh), and as I sat there in my nightgown, River took it upon himself to climb up the sleeve of my nightgown.

I imagine that in the operating room, the surgeon’s going to say “Why is she covered in small cuts [I originally typo’d “small cats“. HA!] from head to toe?”


(pic) Is it just me, or is there an element of “IN YO FACE!” in this picture?

Today’s uploaded kitten pics can be seen hither.

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On the table, the dining room table, the Suggie sleeps toniiiiiiiiiight!

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: We’re off to Memphis.
2003: Possum #2.
2002: Mean mommy.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

5/20/08

*Edited to add: I’m having surgery Thursday, not tomorrow!* On my way to Huntsville yesterday, I decided I wasn’t up for having my eyes checked (I have plenty of contacts and my glasses are fine), so I called and canceled my appointment. I still didn’t get home ’til almost 1:00, what with all the errands … Continue reading “5/20/08”

*Edited to add: I’m having surgery Thursday, not tomorrow!*

On my way to Huntsville yesterday, I decided I wasn’t up for having my eyes checked (I have plenty of contacts and my glasses are fine), so I called and canceled my appointment. I still didn’t get home ’til almost 1:00, what with all the errands I needed to run.

I hit Target, the pet store, Sam’s, and the mall. I spent more time in the mall than I’d intended, but I came out of there with lemon-scented candles, which I’ve been looking for forEVER, so I was happy.

At Target, I ended up buying a couple of oversized (over my size, that is) men’s button-up shirts. I’m going to pair one of those with some big, comfy pants to wear home from the hospital, so I should be all set. Thanks, by the way, for all your dress suggestions. Just ’cause I didn’t use them doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them – and y’all ROCK.

I’ve actually set up Flickr so that I can post pictures from my cell phone, so it’s possible that I’ll be posting a picture or two from the hospital (I’ll leave a link to Flickr at the top of Thursday’s entry, which I will post before we leave for the hospital).

It’s also entirely possible that I won’t do anything but drift in and out of a narcotic-induced haze. Who knows?

As is my way, I’ve had anxiety dreams the last few nights. Not terrible ones, just ones where I wake up slightly freaked out, realize I was dreaming, and go back to sleep. I’m simultaneously looking forward to and dreading the whole thing. If there was a way I could go to sleep and wake up about a month after the surgery, I’d totally go for it. But like I told Fred last night, the only way to get to the other side is to go through it, so go through it I shall.

And I’m sure there’ll be plenty o’ bitching.

Yes, I’m taking before and after pictures of myself in underwear and no, I’m not sharing those. Unlike the underwear pictures I’ve shared in the past over at OneFatBitchypoo (don’t bother looking, I took them down) several years ago after I did a round of Body For Life-style lifting, cardio, and eating, there are far too many people I know in real life reading my sites these days, and I can’t think of a one of them I’d want to see me in my underwear.

I can only imagine the depth of your disappointment. But at least you won’t be reeling around screaming “My eyes! My eyes!”

I will, however, be taking before and after pictures of myself in clothes that I’ll happily share. Those probably won’t be up for a month or two, though, until after the swelling has gone down some.

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In answer to the question Elisha asked in yesterday’s comments, this is the first time I’ve made my own no-waste bird seed. I decided to give it a try because the no-waste seed I’ve been buying (I’d provide a link, but I’m too lazy to go look for it) has become about half cashews. Which is fine and all, the birds and the squirrels like the cashews, but they’re such big pieces that they block up the bird feeders and it gets annoying. Also, there’s no corn in the mix anymore, and I thought I’d just give it a try myself.

It’s not really less expensive than the stuff I’d been buying, but I also don’t have to deal with the cashews anymore, which is more than worth the pain of having to mix my own. Judging by how quickly the bird feeders are emptying, the birds don’t have any complaints.

Probably it would be cheaper next time around if I actually looked and found a local supplier who could get me sunflower chips, white millet, canary seed, and roasted peanut chunks in bulk rather than ordering them online from various places. I would expect that the co-op would carry at least some of that, if not all of it.

I keep the bird seed mix in a 50-gallon garbage can in the garage. It’s covered, so it keeps the mice out.

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I noticed yesterday that the kittens’ eyes are starting to change color. Around their pupils, the color is lightening and starting to turn to green.

Inara has taken to immediately coming over to me and asking to be picked up as soon as I come into the room. She likes to be cradled like a baby, and she likes to pat my face with her paws and then sniff my face and just when I’m about to melt from the cute, she starts with the claws and teeth and I have to put her in timeout. She’s the one who reminds me the most of Maddy.

Speaking of cats, I cannot believe it’s been three years since we got our very first batch of foster kittens. A quick check of my Flickr sets tells me we’re on about our 16th set of fosters. Some of them I remember fondly, some of them I barely remember. Very few of them – THANK GOD – have been returned to the shelter.


Inara makes the goofiest faces.


“You ever get that feeling like someone’s watching you?”


“So, I was mindin’ my own bidness and she climbs RIGHT into the litter box with me and she’s all kicking litter around and I’m all ‘Do you MIND? A man needs his privacy!’ but she just ignored me. I mean, seriously. Have you EVER?”


God, they’re huge.


::slurp::

Tons and tons of cute kitten pictures up over at Flickr.

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Miss Stank has perfected the art of the baleful glare.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: It is, in fact, a happy-go-lucky-shpadoinkle-dy daaaaaaaaaaaaay.
2004: First day with the new brain, you know.
2003: So, Fred got it into his head a few weeks ago that he wanted a kayak.
2002: And further, you don’t get to be indignant and hurt when they act pissed off and boo you off the stage.
2001: No entry.
2000: Yesterday, I sneezed twenty-three times in a row. Fucking allergies.

5/19/08

I had myself a pretty damn busy weekend. It started Friday with me spending a couple of hours cleaning and rearranging the garage. I don’t park in the garage (we’ve had the brooder set up in there for the past several months, between the chicks we got from the hatchery and the ones we hatched … Continue reading “5/19/08”

I had myself a pretty damn busy weekend. It started Friday with me spending a couple of hours cleaning and rearranging the garage. I don’t park in the garage (we’ve had the brooder set up in there for the past several months, between the chicks we got from the hatchery and the ones we hatched ourselves), and we’ve just been tossing stuff in there. A lot of crap had piled up, and after I broke down all the cardboard boxes we had in there and carted them off to the recycling center last weekend, there was a lot of trash that needed to be carted off to the dump. When I was done, there was a nice-sized pile of trash sitting on Fred’s side of the garage and everything else was neatly arranged.

I don’t remember what the hell else I did Friday – hey, it’s been DAYS – but I do remember that I didn’t sit my ass down in front of the TV to watch Lost and Grey’s Anatomy until mid-afternoon, and I never did get around to watching ER. Oh look, a crazy person is holding hostages in the ER. All our favorite characters are in peril. Le yawn.

Saturday morning I got up early (I’d told Fred to wake me up if I wasn’t up by 7:00. HA. I was up before 6:00; I don’t remember the last time I slept past 6:00, actually. Damn cats.) and did my usual morning stuff, spent a little time with the kittens, took my shower, and it was time to leave for the dump. The dump was surprisingly unbusy for a sunny Saturday morning, so we were done pretty quickly there. We stopped by the ATM so Fred could activate his ATM card (after calling to activate the card, you then have to do a “balance inquiry” at any ATM, an action that they charge you 50 cents for. Fuckers.), then over to the co-op so Fred could buy pig feed and chicken feed and a bag of cracked corn (Jimmy did it. I don’t care.) so I could make my very own mix of no-waste wild bird seed for the bird feeders.

I know. I’m a dork.

We got home and I found that the loaf of bread I’d started as soon as I rolled out of bed

(Side note: We got a bread machine for Fred’s birthday (from Fred’s father). Guess who’s making all the bread now? That would be the person who doesn’t really eat much bread. HI. Is this fair? Like my birthday present to Fred is making him loaves of bread WHENEVER HE WANTS? So his birthday gift from me lasts all year? Not fair. Not at all.)

(Side note #2: Actually, it’s not that difficult or complicated. I just like to bitch. DUH.)

(Side note #3: I like bread fine, it’s just that I don’t eat many sandwiches. And even when I do, I consider the bread to be the device that delivers chicken salad (or whatever) to my mouth rather than something to be appreciated for itself.)

was done cooking, and it was lumpy and misshapen and not worth giving to Fred’s father and stepmother, who’d mentioned the possibility of stopping by during the day. We decided to walk down to the dollar store (which recently opened very close by) and see if they had whole wheat flour. We didn’t expect that they would, but it was worth a look.

We were about to head out the door when Fred asked if I had any cash on me. I reminded him that he’d gotten money back at the co-op, which I only knew because I’d been bored waiting for the guys to bring out the feed Fred bought, and picked up the receipt and looked it over. Fred informed me that he had not, in fact, gotten cash back. But we didn’t have the receipt, because he’d had to go back into the co-op to be refunded for the cedar shavings he’d bought and which, ultimately, they didn’t have in stock and they’d kept the receipt.

So we got in the car and drove to the co-op, and Fred pontificated at length about how much he hates this one kid who works there and is slower than molasses and always fucks something up. He was only in the co-op for a couple of minutes. Once the woman working there looked at the receipt, she could see what had happened and she refunded Fred his money.

Since we were so close to town (we’d stopped at the dollar store to check, but they had no whole wheat flour, no surprise) we went to the grocery store, and despite the fact that it’s a full-sized grocery store with a large baking aisle, the only kind of flour they had was white. We talked about it for a minute, decided to get bread flour and make a loaf of white bread for Fred’s parents.

(The doughy, misshapen loaf – which I attributed to “old flour” is being fed to the pigs and chickens.)

We got home and finally got to get started on doing the stuff we’d been planning on doing. I started the new loaf of bread (Fred came in and interrupted me 17 times and I threw up my hands at one point and said “If this bread comes out okay, it’ll be a MIRACLE.” It turned out just fine.) and then helped Fred as he packed eggs for shipping.

I see that big cartoon question mark over your head right now. Yes, eggs for shipping. Turns out, you can sell fertile eggs on eBay for about $1 an egg, and so far Fred’s sold 2 dozen of them (the second dozen is going out in the mail today). What with the price of food these days, it seems that more and more people are raising their own chickens for food. Who knew?

I cleaned up the kitchen, did some dusting, vacuumed the entire house, spent some time with Kara and the babies, and just generally puttered around the house most of the day. At several points I went outside to see what Fred was doing, and watch our new Momma Chicken walk around the chicken yard followed by her babies, and see the toddlers* run around their new playpen. I also mixed up my first batch of no-waste bird seed (25 lb roasted peanut chunks, 25 lb sunflower chips, 25 lb white millet, 10 lb basic canary seed, 25 lb cracked corn), and filled the bird feeders.

So far, the birds seem to like my no-waste mix. Or if they don’t, they’re pretending to. Maybe they’re just being polite.

Sunday, I was up early again due to a cat I’M SURE (actually, now that I think about it, a really loud car going by the house woke me up.) and I rolled out of bed and hit the ground running. I started laundry, cleaned the kitchen, scooped the litter boxes, took my shower, then spent some time with Kara and the babies. When it was almost 8:00, I took my massive grocery list and left for the grocery store.

Too damn much money later, I got home and put the groceries away. I had breakfast, and then at 10:00, I started cooking.

Since I’m going in for surgery on Thursday (plastic surgery in the form of a lower body lift, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention) and won’t feel like cooking for at least a couple of weeks, I wanted to cook and freeze a bunch of meals so that all Fred will have to do is either put something in the oven for a specified amount of time, or take a container with a prepared entree in it out of the freezer and nuke it. I started cooking at 10:00 and wasn’t done until about 3:00.

Now, granted, I took plenty of breaks, but still. That’s a lot of damn cooking!

What I made, for the curious among you: Light ‘n Luscious Lasagna (this will serve as two meals for the two of us, plus several lunches for Fred to take to work), jambalaya (six entrees), chicken and rice casserole (all Fred has to do is put bread crumbs on top and put it in the oven. It’ll make at least four meals for us, plus some lunches for Fred), and beef taco skillet (four entrees). That’s enough food to get us through a couple of weeks, though Fred might have to cook once or twice.

Once the last batch of food was done, I put some laundry away and then headed to town for the recycling center. I stopped by the grocery store for a few things I’d forgotten earlier in the day, then got home, cleaned up the kitchen (I did so many dishes yesterday my hands may never recover), put laundry away, goofed off online, and then it was time to start dinner (chicken fajitas).

Today, I have plans that will keep me out of the house ’til about lunchtime. I have an eye appointment, need to run to Target and the pet store, Sam’s, the mall, back to the eye place to pick up the glasses I’ll pick out after my appointment (it’s a one-hour place), and then hopefully that’ll be all I need to do and can go home and relax with Kara and my babies and stop spazzing about the fact that in a few short days I’ll be sliced and diced.

You know how on South Park the Canadians have those heads where the top and bottom aren’t attached? I imagine that if something goes terribly awry and my stitches give way during a bout of post-op vomiting, I’ll be walking around with the upper half of my body detached from the bottom half. It could be funny if I fart and my lower half goes blowing (HA HA) across the room.

Fred has already received the instructions that if something goes wrong during the operation and they have to use bionic parts to make me better! stronger! faster! he should give the go-ahead. We all already know I’m totally a badass. With my bionic legs and arms I’ll just be able to prove it much more easily.

*We’re calling the 5 baby chickens that were hatched by a buff orpington the “newborns”, the ones we hatched ourselves the “toddlers”, the ones we got from the hatchery back in March the “teenagers”. And I suppose that when the other eggs currently sitting under a buff orpington hatch, we’ll probably call them the “new newborns.”

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As I mentioned up there somewhere, one of the buff orpingtons hatched five eggs last week. She’s a good mother (despite the fact that she was a dumbass for a while there, leaving the coop to eat and then going back in and sitting on the wrong nest) and keeps a protective eye on her babies. Well, unless one of us goes out with food for the chickens, in which case she runs across the yard and those babies are on their own.

Priorities, y’know.


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(pic) Giving her sister the “back off bitch, these are MY babies” look.


(pic) The other chickens seem mostly unconcerned and unimpressed with the babies.

The problem is that now that Momma Chicken has brought her babies out of the coop, she refuses to go back in. When it starts to get dark, she takes her babies under the coop. We tried to force her into the coop and were unsuccessful, so she and her babies have spent the past two nights under the coop. We don’t like it, but we’re at a loss on what to do.

Damn chickens.

(More chicken pictures over at Flickr)

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The kittens are growing so damn fast I swear I can see it happening. I want them to stop growing and be tiny forever! They’re all using the litter box (though Zoe got confused last night and had an accident on a cat bed, poor little peanut) for peeing. I have seen no poo in the litter box, but I didn’t ask Kara any questions about that. Also, hey. Did you know that kitten pee doesn’t smell at all? I swear to god, I picked up a cloth that had been peed upon by them and smelled it to see what the hell it was, and no smell at all. It’s too bad THAT goes away as they get older!

I’ve seen them all drinking water out of the water bowl at one point or the other, but they’re still not interested in the cat food. Some of them – Zoe, especially – like to get into the litter box and chew on litter. I’ll be glad when they stop THAT. We use the plain clay litter for them, and I have to completely empty and refill the litter boxes every day, because you cannot scoop that stuff. I was using the scoopable stuff for Kara’s litter box (it’s bigger, and in the closet), but now that the kittens are exploring a lot more, I don’t want them to eat the scoopable stuff, so I’ve gone to the plain clay litter for her, too.

The kittens are now at the point where they’re in control of their legs, so they zoom around the room and bounce off each other and pounce at each other (I love the way they get low and wiggle and wiggle and wiggle, and then they POUNCE, and go the amazing distance of about two inches). Saturday, all four of them piled on me (Inara up on my shoulder and the other three in my lap) and went to sleep. It was seriously sweet.

Inara, when she’s getting sleepy, will climb up so that she’s resting on my chest and she stretches her front paws out and demands that I kiss her on top of her head.

I love the holy hell out of these kittens.

I don’t have time to go through the pictures I got over the weekend – I’m about to leave for my appointment and errands – but I’ll share with you one picture I took that makes me laugh ’til I wheeze. Poor long-suffering Kara.


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(pic) Miss Momma sure does love to sit on Fred’s lap.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: And we might have expected Mommy/ Whatever to tell the Little Prince “no” and, well, we can’t have THAT.
2005: We’re foster parents.
2004: Because WHY HAD IT NOT OCCURRED TO ME TO THROW MYSELF DOWN THE MOUNTAIN TO AVOID THE CONCERT???
2003: The words “ass ugly” were invented to describe these shoes.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: She hasn’t claimed boredom since.