Robyn – Page 95 – Bitchypoo

11-6-08

Hi All, Many of you have helped me in the past (2000 & 2004) when I did this with my class and I’m hoping that you may be able to help us out again this Presidential Election year. My students are going to compare the front page headlines from around the United States (and maybe … Continue reading “11-6-08”

Hi All,

Many of you have helped me in the past (2000 & 2004) when I did this with my class and I’m hoping that you may be able to help us out again this Presidential Election year.

My students are going to compare the front page headlines from around the United States (and maybe beyond?) on the day after Election Day.

Therefore, if you can, would you please send me the front page only of your local newspaper dated Wednesday, November 5, 2008.

Most of the stories will probably be about the outcome of the Presidential election, with some local election coverage thrown in as well.

We have had a great discussion about the headlines in the past, and we hope to have just as much success this year.

If you are able to help, please send the front page to:

Mrs. Dissek’s 4th Grade Class
Pratt Elementary School
1628 Quaker Road
Barker, NY 14012

Thanks so much for your help!!
Phyllis

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I’m glad y’all enjoyed yesterday’s entry – I had probably too much fun posing for the pictures.

And yes, I was wearing a shirt that FIT. I told Fred that if I wore my usual slobby around-the-house couture, I’d catch shit from you bossy motherfuckers, so I dug around in my closet and found a shirt I bought at Wal-Mart recently.

It was surprisingly comfortable. I might have to try wearing clothes that fit a little more often.

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So, the Crooked Acres election results are in! Your Crooked Acres elected officials are as follows:

Senator-Elect Sugar J. Buttocks

Sheriff-Elect Maxi “Outside Mama” J. And3rson

President-Elect Thomas J. Cullen

All three races were pretty close, but I don’t think there was any hanky-panky with the voting, so Suggie, Maxi, and Tommy should all take their posts in January with no problems.

I see from the comments on the various polls that y’all are dying for Miz Poo to get into politics. She didn’t this time around due to health issues, but I think you might expect to see her gear up for a run at the presidency in 2012.

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By the way, the whole candidates-pictures-banner thing would have been a little more involved (with vice presidential candidates and much better photoshopping), but I didn’t come up with the idea until this past weekend, and didn’t actually get started on the entry (and the pictures and the polls) ’til mid-day Monday. I’ll try to do better in 2012!

Miz Poo also might have been a candidate this time around, except the opportunity to have the old white guy run against the young black guy was too perfect to resist.

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BREAKING NEWS! BREAKING NEWS! BREAKING NEWS!

Newly elected Sheriff Maxi “Outside Mama” J. And3rson is under investigation for nasty campaign tactics. Sheriff candidate Kara “Upstairs Mama” J. And3rson was reported missing mid-day yesterday. A search crew was dispatched to look for Upstairs Mama in all her usual locations, but after looking in the front room, the shed next door, the chicken yard, and all points across the back forty, possible foul play was discussed. She was eventually located in the upstairs cedar closet.

“But she never goes in there, I don’t know how that happened!” her mother cried before sweeping her up for a flurry of kisses atop the head.

Sources close to the investigation state that doctors have declared Upstairs Mama perfectly healthy, but that she received a blow to the head and cannot remember how she ended up in the closet, bound and gagged.

A source deep inside the Outside Mama campaign

“What?”

declared that Maxi “Outside Mama” J. And3rson was heard grumbling about how much easier life would be if Upstairs Mama were to be “disappeared.”

We’ll share more about this horrifying story as details emerge.

And3rson continues to be confused and addled about her terrifying ordeal, as well as slightly depressed over losing the election.

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I don’t know what on earth made me think that going to do my Thursday morning stint at the pet store followed by a 9 am hair cut and color, followed by an 11:15 appointment with the gastroenterologist (my usual six-month visit) would be a good idea. I think of all that running around, and it makes me want to take a nap.

Ah well. At least I can go out and get it all done and don’t have to make a special trip for the hair appointment or the doctor appointment, right?

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Miz Poo went to have her drain out on Monday. She has been such an angel throughout the whole process. Every night when we sit down to watch TV, she climbs up onto the pillow on my lap, and I take her no-cone collar off, and she spends the next hour or so grooming herself, then she naps until bedtime. At bedtime, Fred puts the collar back on her, and she settles in her cat bed and as far as I know, she spends all night there.

When she had the drain in, every single night she’d get one good bite at the drain before I stopped her, but when we went to the vet’s on Monday, it was still well in place. In fact, there was some scabbing around it, and the doctor had to take some time before he pulled the drain out.

I couldn’t stand the thought of watching the vet take the drain out, so I hid behind the vet tech ’til it was over. Miz Poo was a champ – she always is – and didn’t fight much. She goes back on Friday to have her stitches out, and she has to keep the collar on for a few days afterward, so I’m planning to take the collar off her for good Monday morning and see how it goes.

I expect she’ll be licking her back end all day long.

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The foster kittens continue to do well. After their scary experience last week, where I left the door to their room open and Delmar and Marion got lost in the house, I decided to take it a lot slower. For a couple of days I put baby gates across their doorway so they could see out of their room, but they couldn’t get out (and none of the other cats could get in). When I’d go into the room, I’d move the lower baby gate out of the way, and on Tuesday when I was hanging out with them, Lem said “Hmm. I wonder what’s out here?” and went exploring.

(View from the kitten room, down the hall.)

I moved the gates down the hallway so they could get into my bedroom and the bathroom if they so desired, and at some point later that day I went upstairs and couldn’t find Lem or Marion. After much looking around, I found them hiding up inside the recliner in my bedroom. I poked them ’til they came out, and they ran back into their room. They come out of their room occasionally to look around, and yesterday Claudette actually went out and looked around for quite some time.

When we get to the point where they’re all wandering around the entire upstairs and not looking scared while they do it, and hanging out in my room, I’ll think about moving the baby gates to the bottom of the stairs.

The only problem with the baby gates is that Kara likes to hang out on my bed, and if there are baby gates blocking her access to my room, she gets worried. I let her through the gates if she looks like she wants to go in there, and she doesn’t seem to mind being locked in there with the kittens (and there’s water and a litter box in the bathroom if she so desires), so I guess it’s not a big deal.

More pictures over at L&H.

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Newtles makes himself at home. (Please do not look at the nasty window behind him. Mister Boogers had a sneezing fit all over it yesterday, and I haven’t had a chance to clean it.)

Also, to the person who asked in the poll comments: Newt does not believe in politics. Also, his past as a serial killer might come under fire, and he doesn’t want to subject his family to the harsh media coverage that would ensue.

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Previously
2007: Goddamn bossy fucking cars.
2006: With a squeak, she fell into the tub and just sat there for a moment with a look that very clearly said “Do you believe this shit?”
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: So, Jackie, how’s the weather up there in Vancouver Washington?
2002: My life. So very exciting.
2001: Instead, when the question was posed to him, he looked at me as if I were perhaps mentally deficient.
2000: Have I mentioned that I love that man?
1999: And when you’re not good at something, unless you’re hugely delusional, you pretty much know that you’re not good at it. Even if you don’t know, there’s always someone more than willing to point it out to you.

11-5-08

I blame Joe Bob for my current visitors! I had a dream Monday afternoon (my husband works 3rd shift and we have a new baby, so I sleep during the day) that you had posted a blog entry about giving Joe Bob away due to his neurotic behavior. Monday evening we had THREE stray cats come up on our porch. We haven’t had strays around here since we moved in back in 2000. We live a couple hundred feet from a 70mph highway, and there was no way I could leave them out there…especially when I saw that one was declawed! So now we have 23 month old twins, a 3 month old, a (small) dog, 11 resident cats, and 3 temporary fosters while I search for non-kill alternatives. Is it a coincidence that Vistor #1 (I call him Joss) is grey and white? I think not! Anyone in Michigan looking to adopt some adult cats? Photos at my blog!

I blame Joe Bob, too. Everything’s his fault, the little bastard. (Good thing for him that deep down inside he’s really a good boy, I suppose!)

Michiganders? Need a cat or two or three? They’re awfully cute!

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Several weeks ago, I decided that the leaves in the side yard needed to be raked up and carried (via the tractor) to the compost heap. Fred brought the tractor around, and I scooped the leaves up into the tractor… scoop… thingy.

It was a pain in the ass, using my hands and the rake to scoop up those damn leaves.

Not long after, as if a sign directly from the Gods of Gardening, I happened to be leafing through a catalog – Gardener’s Supply Company, to be exact – and I came across an item that would surely make my life easier.

Leaf Scoops!

Big scoops that are made to fit over your hands, with which you can pick up leaves and debris! And they only cost $12.95. I KNEW I had to have them. I ordered them, and they arrived on my front porch lickety-split.

And then I ignored them. Because I’d already taken care of the pile of leaves and I felt no sudden urge to do any more raking. So they sat there on the dining room table. And sat there. And sat there. Then I moved them out to the garage, and they sat there. And sat there.

Then one day, after Fred moved the littlest chickens from the brooder to the small chicken coop, we went out at dusk to herd them into their chicken coop. Little chickens are not born knowing that they’re supposed to go back into the coop when it starts to get dark, so it takes a few weeks of teaching them to go back in. They eventually get the idea and start going in on their own, but the two weeks of teaching them to go in the coop at dark is a killer.

Herding chickens is not so much fun, especially little chickens, because they’re tiny and can slip through the space between your hands before you’ve realized it.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

One evening, after too much time spent chasing the little chickens around and putting them in their coop, a light bulb went on over my head, and I thought “Hey. Those leaf scoops are kind of big. I wonder if they’d be any help?”

Yes INDEED they were helpful. They were VERY helpful. They were, as they say, the best thing since sliced bread. With the help of the leaf scoops (or, as I started calling them, SCOOP HANDS) we got those baby chickens herded and put away in no time flat.

So I present to you, dear readers, a pictorial to answer the burning question:

WHAT CAN YOU DO WITH SCOOP HANDS?!

As mentioned, you can herd the hell out of baby chickens with SCOOP HANDS!

You can ALSO herd ADULT chickens with SCOOP HANDS!

You really CAN scoop up leaves like a motherfucker with SCOOP HANDS!

You can swat at wasps that dive-bomb you with SCOOP HANDS!

You can scratch pigs behind the ears with SCOOP HANDS!

You can deflect Het Rays from stumpy little gray cats with SCOOP HANDS!

The SCOOP HANDS, as you can see, are multi-functional. They are inexpensive, they are light, they are AWESOME. They are not, however, perfect. There are many things you cannot do with SCOOP HANDS!

So with this incomplete list, I answer the burning question:

WHAT CAN YOU NOT DO WITH SCOOP HANDS!?

You cannot pick carrots with SCOOP HANDS!

You cannot pull a wagon with SCOOP HANDS!

You cannot help build a chicken coop with SCOOP HANDS!

You cannot open a gate with SCOOP HANDS!

You cannot stop yourself from getting smutz on the front of your shirt with SCOOP HANDS! SCOOP HANDS are not MAGIC, and if you are a klutz, you’ll be a klutz with or without SCOOP HANDS!

You cannot stop your husband from taking a picture of your ass unexpectedly with SCOOP HANDS! Well, you could if you knew he was going to do it, but SCOOP HANDS are not all-knowing. SCOOP HANDS have no intelligence of their own. If you want to protect your ass from unwanted pictures, you have to direct the SCOOP HANDS to cover your back end!

The list could go on (don’t groan and roll your eyes at me!), but the list of things you both can and cannot do with SCOOP HANDS is infinite. You could probably come up with a new thing to do and not do with SCOOP HANDS every day (Come back! I won’t. I promise!), but I think you should know this, without a doubt:

SCOOP HANDS rock!

(Though if you don’t rake leaves or herd chickens, they might not really be worth your time. They still rock, though!)

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We’ll discuss the Crooked Acres election results (and how one sheriff candidate is under investigation for locking the other in a CLOSET) tomorrow. Maybe Friday, depending.

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Previously
2007: I thought if the remote was lost, you were screwed.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Did you think I was writing this from The Great Beyond?
2003: Wonder if I appear too old and feeble to help with the loading of the groceries.
2002: That’s your trivia fact for the day. You’re welcome!
2001: Amish country.
2000: No entry.
1999: Hey, this is some exciting stuff, isn’t it? What will I talk about next, dryer lint? Woohoo, somebody stop me!

11-4-08

Okay, those of you who live in the US, it’s Election Day. Didja vote? Didja vote? Didja vote? Are you gonna vote? You’re gonna vote, right? You know there’s an election today? Didja vote? Feel free to steal this picture (get it here at Flickr) and use it wherever the hell you want. Link back … Continue reading “11-4-08”

Okay, those of you who live in the US, it’s Election Day. Didja vote? Didja vote? Didja vote? Are you gonna vote? You’re gonna vote, right? You know there’s an election today? Didja vote?

Feel free to steal this picture (get it here at Flickr) and use it wherever the hell you want. Link back to this page (or don’t, I don’t care that much, really.)

I have a special offer for those of you who live in the US. Every person who votes gets their VERY OWN Crooked Acres cat! Want Mister Boogers? Miz Poo? Sugarbutt? Kara? The list goes on? Want one? You gotta vote!

(This is not a valid offer and you can’t come claim one of my cats. Except Joe Bob.)

(I kid.)

(Or do I?)

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Here’s some Election Day fun! (These polls are absolutely anonymous, so don’t worry that The Man will come bust down your door and carry you away!)

Who are YOU voting for?

Who do you think I’m voting for?

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Here at Crooked Acres, we have our own elections going on.

Senatorial Candidates

Repurrblican Candidate (incumbent) Stanley J. Boogerton.

“I has been your Senator for a long, long time, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Ah hets being a Senator, but I’m so durn good at it that I cannot bring myself to find another job. Vote for me, fuckers. Don’t make me get mad and bite Suggie on the neck. We’s good friends and all, but I WILL BITE HIM ON THE NECK IF I HAVE TO.”

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Democat Candidate Sugar J. Buttocks.

“I promise a half-eaten field mouse in every paw, a snuggle every night at bedtime, and if Joe Bob comes around and bothers you, I will HAPPILY kick his ass six ways to Sunday!”

Vote!

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Candidates for Sheriff

Incumbent Maxi “Outside Mama” J. Anders0n.

“I have been the ass-kickingest sheriff this farm has ever seen, and I don’t intend to let some little upstart sashay in here and take over my territory! While she prefers to hide her head in the sand upstairs and pick on the little kittens who come wandering out of their room MINDING THEIR OWN BUSINESS, I only pick on the little kittens who get all up in my shit. I am tough but fair and I don’t pick on the underprivileged homeless kittens!”

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Kara “Upstairs Mama” J. Anders0n

“Contrary to what my opponent states, I do NOT spend all my time upstairs with my head in the sand. I occasionally retreat to the big blue bed to consider my options and how my skills as THE BEST ASS-KICKER IN EXISTENCE can be utilized in ways that will benefit Crooked Acres. I will keep unwanted elements out of the back yard, I will keep my eye on the known “bad” elements of Crooked Acres, I will break up fights between cats who do not get along (HELLO SUGARBUTT AND JOE BOB and TOM CULLEN AND JOE BOB and EVERYONE AND JOE BOB) and if someone looks suspicious I will make sure they know I have my eye on them! The Incumbent might prefer to think she’s a claws-on sheriff, but she spends all her time hiding under the stairs fending off attacks from Crooked Acres residents who CLEARLY know that she’s NOT the cat for the job of sheriff!”

Vote!

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Presidential Candidates

Repurrblican Candidate Lester J. Spankenstein

Looking Presidential.

Laughing to show that he has a zany and madcap side.

(Pardon the lack of PhotoShop skillz.)

“The one thing you need to know about me is that Snackin’! Time! is very important to me. Snackin’! Time! should be as important to all Crooked Acres residents, but my opponent – despite his size – claims that Snackin’! Time! is not foremost in his concerns. Well let me tell you something – if there’s no Snackin’! Time!, what have we as a country fought for? What’s the POINT of a life without Snackin’! Time!? As the more experienced candidate, I will tell you that Snackin’! Time! is what will keep this country strong and I will fight to keep the Snackin’! Time! troops fighting for our rights to Snack! if it takes 100 years of warfare!”

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Democat Candidate Thomas J. Cullen

Looking Presidential.

Showing his madcap and zany side.

(Ditto on the lack of Photoshop skillz. Maybe I’ll work on that between now and the next election.)

“While my opponent worries about things like Snackin’! Time!, it is, of course, more important to we Crooked Acresans that Change(ing The Litter Box) is the only way to go. How can we face our problems head-on when we carry around the stink of old litter? It’s time for CHANGE(ing the Litter Box) you can relieve in. I am not the status quo, I am young and am I here to invigorate the great citizens of Crooked Acres. CHANGE(ing the Litter Box) has been a long time coming and only YOU can ensure that CHANGE(ing the Litter Box) will happen!”

Vote!

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“Wait. Which candidate supports the legalization of catnip? Someone told me, but I was high on the ‘nip and now I don’t remember.”

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Previously
2007: Good thing they’re not our cats, huh?
2006: No entry.
2005: Well, well, well. Look who’s a big tough talker, but when the can of whoopass is opened and a little orange kitten gets to smackin’, Mr. Badass cowers like a great big girly-man.
2004: Apparently I had nothing to write about last year, either, ’cause it’s all meme and comment-answering.
2003: No entry.
2002: Now, THAT is a church name!
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: She thought “gauze” was plural, so obviously the singular would be “gau”!

11-3-08

New month, new banner! (You might need to clear your cache if you don’t see it up there at the top.) This was created by Aly, who has created so many of my banners in the past. Thanks again, Aly – you rock!!! & & & & & & & & & & & & … Continue reading “11-3-08”

New month, new banner! (You might need to clear your cache if you don’t see it up there at the top.)

This was created by Aly, who has created so many of my banners in the past. Thanks again, Aly – you rock!!!

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Site housekeeping stuff:

Over there in the right column at the bottom is my “currently reading” widget from Good Reads. I don’t know why I felt compelled to add that to the sidebar, it’s just that the right and left sidebars are way unbalanced and it was bugging me. I might just move everything not cat-related from the left sidebar to the right to make it work out right. We’ll see. I’m not currently feeling the urge to houseclean the page, but I can feel it coming.

Over in the left sidebar, in case you hadn’t noticed, Kara’s been moved to the “permanent residents” list and the new fosters have been added to the “fosters” list.

Hmm…. I thought there was more, but it appears that that’s about it.

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I woke up Saturday with an aching hip. Ever since I painted the shed last week, my hip had been aching, and it got worse Friday and Saturday instead of better. So I limped around, swearing to myself that I’d make an appointment with my doctor as soon as possible.

(And then of course Sunday morning I woke up with it much improved, so now I’m going to put it off ’til after my visit to the gynecologist next week!)

Fred came upstairs after I got out of the shower to ask where I keep the cleaning rags (I’d make fun of him for that, except I just moved them. This is like the fourth time I’ve moved where I keep them since we’ve lived in this house. I don’t know, I just can’t find the perfect place, sue me!) because Joe Bob had gotten into the litter box I’d put in the guest bedroom for Miz Poo, and instead of peeing IN the litter box, he peed straight back and hit my cedar chest and left a big nasty puddle of cat pee on the floor.

Thus would begin my own personal HELL DAY wherein I must have cleaned up ten zillion Joe Bob sprays. I don’t know what the holy fuck is going on with him, but he walked over to a bookcase and sprayed it while we were RIGHT there, he peed on the table, he peed on the floor, he peed on the rug by the back door. (Poet! Knowit!) I got so over-the-top pissed (PUN INTENDED) off at him that I yelled at him to get out of my house, and when he obeyed by running out the cat door into the back yard (don’t be too impressed – he was headed for the cat door before I yelled, so it’s not like he UNDERSTOOD what I was saying, but my yelling certainly sped him on his way) I shut the door and left it shut for an hour.

(Don’t GIVE ME that look. It was warm outside and there’s a bowl of water out there. If he’d stayed inside, I might have ended up throttling him.)

Fred’s going to be taking him to the vet this afternoon so they can find out if there’s something physically wrong with him. If there’s nothing physically wrong with him, we’re going to see about getting him some medication to calm him the fuck down and STOP THE GODDAMN PEEING.

This makes me despair. We’d gone a good long time without anyone peeing anywhere, and then Fred had to say “It’s been a while since we had any peeing incidents, huh?”, and the NEXT DAY? Cat pee.

Grrrr.

So I thought that perhaps His Highness (Joe Bob, that is. Not Fred.) was objecting to the cleanliness of the litter boxes. It’s been a long time since I emptied, scrubbed, and refilled them, even though I make sure I add fresh litter regularly, and the litter boxes get scooped twice a day (we are not MONSTERS, you know!). I emptied them one-by-one, scrubbed them out, let them air-dry and refilled them with clean litter. (I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell you that I filled them with clean litter. It’s not like I would have put the old nasty litter back in the clean boxes. I WOULDN’T.)

Then I decided to move stuff around in the laundry room. For one, the cat fountain is in a location where there’s no nearby plug, so I’d run an extension cord behind the litter boxes (and in front of the door where the water heater is), and it just bugged me, having it set up like that. So I moved it so it’s near a plug, moved the storage containers holding the extra cat food over by the food bowls, dusted and straightened the storage unit in the laundry room, vacuumed the entire room and scrubbed the spot (in the middle of the laundry room) where Stinkerbelle and Mister Boogers share their Snackin’! Time!, because they tend to knock some food on the floor and then tromp through it.

In and amongst all this cleaning of the laundry room, I did laundry, made lunch, and hung out with the kittens.

At one point, I went out to take popcorn to the chickens, and Fred asked me to give him a hand. Some piece that holds implements onto the tractor was stuck, and he needed to hold one end and have me pull the other end to get it out.

(THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!)

“Be careful,” he said. “You’ll have to put all your weight into it, but it’ll probably let go suddenly.”

It did, and seeing as I’m the ungraceful sort, I landed on my ass on the driveway.

(Later that night, he stepped onto a cat toy on the rug in the kitchen and bitched about how much it hurt. I gave him the bug-eyes and said “I FELL DOWN on the driveway, and got a mild “Are you okay?” You probably shouldn’t expect too much SYMPATHY right now, big baby.”)

The biggest part of the weekend, though, was spent dealing with the GODDAMN LADYBUGS. Apparently it’s time for them to hibernate, so they’re coming into my house in DROVES, all “No, that’s okay, we can find out own hibernating spot, let me buzz by your ear on the way across the room to scare the shit out of you, ‘k?” I vacuumed up several hundred of them Friday and Saturday. By Sunday morning I’d had it, and went to L0we’s to buy something that would kill them. I don’t particularly want to kill them, I just want them to stay away, but I found nothing that claimed to be a ladybug repellent, so I opted for an indoor/ outdoor spray that would kill them on contact. It seemed to work okay, but I still had to vacuum up a ton of dead ladybugs. At least they were dying near the windows instead of spreading out throughout the house.

The worst infestation of ladybugs was upstairs in the garage, where the windows were open a little bit to allow air circulation in the garage. The window facing the street was just COVERED in ladybugs and wasps, and I took great pleasure in spraying the hell out of them Sunday afternoon.

Seriously, though. I really would prefer to repel them rather than kill them. Anyone out there have a good ladybug repelling trick, something that has worked for you personally? Do share!

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After all my making fun of Fred in my Friday entry, I ended up deciding that we should just pick up Chinese food and eat dinner at home. I didn’t want to have to change my clothes, y’see, and I was dressed like a slob. So we got Chinese food and I ended up eating too fast and getting sick and spent some time hanging over the toilet.

(Good to see that the tool is still working as it should, almost three years later!)

We watched The Devil’s Advocate, which neither of us had seen, and despite the fact that we’d stopped to buy candy at the dollar store just in case, not a single kid knocked on the door.

While we were watching the movie, I fired up the laptop (which I keep in the living room – or I guess I should say I did until Sunday, when I decided I was spending too much time online in the evenings, so I packed it away in its case.) and surfed to Flickr, and then I thought “Hmm. It’s been a while since I went through my Flickr inbox, hasn’t it? I should clear that out.”

For the uninformed, every time someone adds you as a “contact” on Flickr, you get an email in your Flickr inbox (well, I do, I can’t speak for you. I’m just assuming. I’m using a lot of parentheses in this entry, aren’t I?) and when someone adds me as a contact, I go and check out their pictures, and if I think I might be interested in seeing their pictures on a regular basis, I add them as one of my contacts. But like I said, it had been a while, so I started with the most recent emails and worked my way back.

Yeah. It’d been a while since I clean out my Flickr inbox. TWO YEARS since I’d done it.

I know, I suck. I’ll try to keep on top of it from here on out. Don’t hold your breath.

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I made a mistake Friday night with the foster kittens. I thought it would be a good idea to just open the door to their room and leave it open. I sat in there for a while and petted Delmar, but Lem, Marion and Claudette sat atop the cat tree and nervously eyed the open door. After a while, I decided to just leave them alone, hope they’d decide to explore on their own, and get comfortable being out of the room.

Then I got distracted cleaning the kitchen, going out to give the pigs their nightly snack, and locking the chicken coops. By the time I got back inside and Snackin’! Time! for our cats was over, it had been about 45 minutes since I left the kitten door open. Lem and Claudette were still on the cat tree, but Delmar and Marion were nowhere to be found. We searched the upstairs, but they weren’t up there. We searched the downstairs and didn’t find them. We searched the downstairs again, and Fred found Marion behind the bathroom door, and thus ensued a chase where we pursued Marion through the house. She ended up behind the washer, but we flushed her out with a blast of canned air to scare her out, and Fred finally caught her and carried her upstairs.

We looked all over the place and couldn’t find Delmar anywhere. After three or four circuits of the downstairs, looking in every nook and cranny, I finally discovered him hiding behind the water heater in the hall closet. I lured him out with a toy, and he let me carry him back upstairs to familiar territory.

I tried to lure them out of the room several times on Saturday, but none of them were going for it, so I spent as much time in the kitten room as I could, petting them and telling them how sweet they are. Most of them forgave me, but Marion seems to be holding a grudge.

They got their first vaccination shots Saturday evening, and were kind of knocked out from that Saturday evening and most of Sunday. I decided to pull back on trying to throw them into new and scary situations, so instead of just leaving their door open on Sunday, I left the door open but put a couple of baby gates in the doorway in hopes that being able to see the hall and see the traffic (ie, the big cats and us) would eventually make them curious.

So far it’s not working, but y’know. It takes time!

More pics at L&H.

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Tommy, Sugarbutt, and Joe Bob, laying in the yard. I’m not sure what they were watching – probably chickens, since that’s what’s usually on the other side of that fence.

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Previously
2007: Newt was a total teeny baby this time last year – he was clearly NOT fully grown at that point, as this picture can attest.
2006: Maddy’s new Mommy and Daddy came a-visitin’ yesterday.
2005: Huh. I was wondering why Tom Cullen was snooping around in the stamp drawer
2004: The spud and I stood patiently by while the man chattered at the school employees for several minutes and then my head exploded, scattering brain matter everywhere.
2003: “Jessica Lynch!” I said. “Isn’t she the only POW we’ve ever had in all of history?”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green.

11-1-08

Mainers! Help! Two kittens – estimated to be about three months old – showed up at my sister’s apartment complex a few hours ago. She can’t keep them – her apartment complex has limits on the amount of animals you can have, she already has two cats, and there’s going to be an apartment inspection … Continue reading “11-1-08”

Mainers! Help!

Two kittens – estimated to be about three months old – showed up at my sister’s apartment complex a few hours ago. She can’t keep them – her apartment complex has limits on the amount of animals you can have, she already has two cats, and there’s going to be an apartment inspection this week. The local cat shelter has been closed because of problems with ringworm, and won’t be able to take the kittens for a week.

Can anyone take these two little cuties for a week until the

shelter reopens and can accept them?

The little gray tiger is definitely a boy – they’re not sure about the little black and white one. They’re eating solid food and are very affectionate and friendly.

My sister lives in the Brunswick-Topsham area of Maine – HELP!!!!

Edited to add: Uh… nevermind! Apparently they belonged to a woman whose grandson brought them home to her. They were destroying her house, so she tossed them outside. She doesn’t really want them, but it all worked out – my sister found someone to take them!

(Cross-posted at Love & Hisses.)

10/31/08

Holy crap! Ten years! “Let’s do a picture with serious faces, Bessie.” “Okay. Wait. I don’t think I can stop from smirking. Are you making a face back there?” “Who, me? No.” “Okay, I think I had a straight face.” “Me too.” “Were you making a face back there?” “No, not at all.” (Bastard) (I … Continue reading “10/31/08”

Holy crap! Ten years!

“Let’s do a picture with serious faces, Bessie.”
“Okay. Wait. I don’t think I can stop from smirking. Are you making a face back there?”
“Who, me? No.”

“Okay, I think I had a straight face.”
“Me too.”
“Were you making a face back there?”
“No, not at all.”
(Bastard)

(I need a haircut in a serious way.)

Happy tenth anniversary, you cat-wrangling, coop-building, chicken-herding bastard!

(I give it another ten before you flee screaming from the house of ten thousand cats.)

And happy anniversary to our wedding twins Shelly and R, too!

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A few years ago, I announced that I’d started a savings account at Emigrant Direct to save up for a really nice tenth anniversary vacation. We were talking about going to the Bahamas or Hawaii. We were going to spend an entire week and do it up right.

And then we bought Crooked Acres and used all the vacation money to renovate the inside of the house.

Well worth it, in my opinion.

(Now I’ll start saving for our 15th anniversary. By then we’ll probably have about 3,000 chickens, so I’ll need to factor in the money to pay someone for a week of house sitting, chicken wrangling, and cat herding!)

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By the way, I facetiously said to Fred last week, “What special thing are we going to do for our anniversary?” (facetious because we don’t really ever do anything special on our anniversary because we are special snowflakes and WE don’t need a SPECIAL DAY to show that we love each other, we show each other EACH AND EVERY DAY how much we consider the other to be a great big pain in the ass!), Fred said “We should go out to dinner!”

I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

I’d eat out all the time if I had someone to go with, but Fred doesn’t like to go out to dinner (he claims I’m incorrect when I say this, but he lies.), so I figured he was just attempting to be funny.

So far, he seems to actually be serious about it. I’m not discounting the possibility that he’ll do a last-minute pick-up-dinner-on-the-way-home end run, but it looks like we might really do it.

HE REALLY DOES LOVE ME!!!!

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Anyone out there still watching The Shield? With four episodes left, they’re ratcheting up the tension nicely, aren’t they?

I predict that Shane and Vic are both going to end up dead and Ronnie will head up some new Strike Team. Or maybe Ronnie’ll be dead, too. I fell like there’s just no way Vic can come out of this alive, though.

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Once you came to live with Fred what surprised you, in a good way, that you hadn’t known about his personality?

How rock-solid and straight-forward he is. He doesn’t play games, he doesn’t use what you’ve said against you, he doesn’t avoid confrontation. He’d rather talk it out and clear the air and get it over with. He doesn’t hold grudges. He sees right through the manipulative bullshit people like to pull, and he doesn’t put up with that shit. He’s supportive and smart and he makes me laugh like nobody’s business. He can do absolutely anything he puts his mind to. Twelve years in, he still manages to surprise me often and did I mention how funny he is? He’s my safe place to fall, my rock (but not an island), and my best and most trusted and trustworthy friend. He’s my lobster, my bridge over troubled water.

Pardon the mush, but it’s my 10th anniversary. If I can’t be mushy now, when can I?

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Possibly asked and answered (though I didn’t see it listed in your book list) : Have you read Outlander by Diana Gabaldon?

I own it, but I haven’t read it yet. I believe it’s on the top shelf of my bookcase, which means it’s getting to the front of the queue to be read! I’m simultaneously looking forward to it, since so many of you loved it, and dreading it because HELLO that is one thick motherfucker of a book!

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I have a question about the frozen eggs (actually, I have a question for my coworker who just got her first chickens this summer). Can you do all the egg stuff with frozen eggs that you can with fresh eggs or does freezing do something to the texture and they become good for only baking and such?

and

I have never heard of freezing eggs! So what do you do when you are ready to cook them? Just thaw them out? Can you fix them any style and do they taste the same as fresh?

Frozen eggs, once thawed, can be used for all the same things you use fresh eggs for (aside from hard-boiling them, obviously), and to me the texture and taste is exactly the same. I’ve used them to bake with, I’ve made quiches with them, and I’ve scrambled them and had them for breakfast, and honestly can’t tell the difference between the ones that were frozen, and the fresh ones.

To thaw them out, just put them in a small bowl and set them on the counter ’til they’re thawed. If you need one right away, you can put the frozen egg in a sandwich baggie and put it in warm water.

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My uncle yells out in his sleep all the time. It’s gotten to the point that he wife doesn’t even do anything. That man has some really scary dreams. I actually heard him when I was kid and visiting them. I hope Fred was able to get back to sleep.

Oh, Fred was able to get back to sleep NO PROBLEM, the bastard. In fact, I finished reading about ten minutes later and when I put my book on the dresser, it fell off and landed on the floor with a loud bang. The next morning, I said “Did the book falling wake you up?” and he said that he hadn’t heard a thing. Hmph.

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I’ll be the first to say it. Maybe it wasn’t Fred who called out in the night. Maybe it was your house ghost? HA! just kidding of course.

One of the closets in my room (I have two!) tends to pop open in the middle of the night. I, personally, know that it’s because the temperature in my room and the temperature in the closet tends to vary widely, and the pressure causes the closet door to pop open.

Fred prefers to believe it’s due to a ghost.

I don’t believe in ghosts, and it’s going to take more than a door popping open occasionally to convince me otherwise.

THAT’S RIGHT, GHOSTS! I’M CALLING YOU OUT!

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What are you, Jainist? Squish the wasps.

Damn you for making me go look up Jainism. (For those who don’t want to go read, Compassion for all life, human and non-human, is central to Jainism.) Given my love for a nice cut of meat –

(pardon me while I snort like a 13 year-old boy)

I am SO not a Jainist. I don’t squish the wasps because I don’t like the crunching sound (or feeling) they make when squished. In fact, just thinking about that crunching sound/ feeling makes my skin crawl. BLEH.

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Bobpod is DEAD?!?!? Or was this Bobpod 2? I hope you get a replacement soon – KATG is finally posting shows again!

This was the second iPod, which I named Bawbpod. And I know they’re finally posting KATG shows again – it figures that they’re finally back from England and Israel, and my iPod craps out on me!

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I put my cell phone in my bra all the time. Sometimes I sweat and it stops working for a few days, but eventually drys out. Don’t buy a new one until you give it time to dry completely. I also heard you can put it in a jar of rice…who knows??

I’ve put that damn iPod in a bowl of (dry) rice, and am giving it the weekend to straighten itself out. If it doesn’t get its shit together by Monday, I’m going to buy a cheaper mp3 player and stop downloading TV shows on iTunes, since I hardly ever get around to watching them anyway!

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I was just reading back to you getting Miz Poo and Mr. Boogers, and I was wondering if the cats ever see you come home with another cat and just think “oh, Jesus CHRIST here they go again…”

I always wonder what on earth our cats must think about the comings and goings of other cats. Because I know at first every time there was a new cat, they’d all have a fit and hiss and growl at the new one and flounce about and have temper tantrums for days. These days, it’s kind of like “Oh, look. New cat. Le hiss. THAT never happens. Wonder if this one is staying or just visiting?”

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Poor Miz Poo! Freaky puffy lip, freaky butt tumor. I swear calico (or tortis or whatever) cats are just weird when it comes to health issues.

If Miz Poo’s anything to go by, tri-color cats are money pits. I always refer to Miz Poo as our “trouble child” when I’m talking to the vet’s assistant. Not only does she (Miz Poo, that is, not the vet’s assistant. That I’m aware of, anyway.) have puffy lip and butt tumor issues, she used to have problems with her eyes. Nothing’s flared up with her eyes in years, though, so I’m sure we’re just about due for something to happen THERE.

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Saturday must have been the day for cats bursting open. One of ours had a lovely (horrible) cyst burst and a big ol’ hole. We did take her to the emergency vet and blew $300 as she was obviously feeling miserable. May the rest of the week be better for cats and iPods.

When the vet said that he saw tumor tissue on Monday, I immediately recalled the fact that it seems like there’ve been a LOT of bloggers/ journalers who’ve had to put their cats to sleep lately, and my heart just sank. I mean, I know that 9 years old is getting up there for cats, but I hope like hell that Miz Poo is around for a good long time yet.

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I threw in a couple of handfuls of romaine lettuce at the end of the mixing to keep the indoor pigs (Fred and I) the hell out of the cookies. Sometimes I toss dried cherry tomatoes in the cookies, sometimes I toss in a handful of collard greens, whatever’s on hand and makes us think “Ewwww!” will work.

Pure.
Unadulterated.
Genius.

My other genius move is what I did last week. The spud’s birthday was on Sunday, so I sent out her box of birthday presents on Wednesday, and since I was having a hankering for cookies – these cookies are SO FREAKIN’ GOOD – I made a double batch of the cookies, sent a bunch to her with her birthday presents, sent a bunch more to my sister and nephew (I was sending her a box of books), and then had a few for us to eat ourselves.

I wouldn’t put it past myself to put chocolate chip cookies on the giveaway page at some point, just so I can make them, send most of them off to other people, and have a few to myself.

(Yes, I could make the dough, bake a few cookies, and put the rest of the dough in the freezer. What makes you think I wouldn’t eat frozen cookie dough straight from the freezer until I was sick? Do I strike you as having that kind of self control?)

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OMG, my cats also pee and have tried to poo in the drain. Like they aim in the drain and go about their business. And it doesn’t matter if the litter box is clean or not… OMG… I thought it was just me!!!!

Pleasepleaseplease oh please god, don’t let me utter the words “If any of my cats ever pooped in the sink I would strangle him with my bare hands”, please god, please note I AM NOT SAYING THAT because I know you are a cruel and angry god who would immediately make Mister Boogers go poop in the sink and I don’t want to have to kill him. Pleasepleaseplease.

I strongly suspect that it was that bastard Newt who taught Mister Boogers to pee in the kitchen sink, because one day NO ONE was peeing in the sink and the next day Newt did it and Mister Boogers was doing it, too. How did Newt know that peeing in the sink was acceptable (in our house, maybe not in everyone’s, but better in the sink than on the bed and I swear I scrub out that sink every single morning.), is what I want to know? Peeing in the sink he can master, but the cat door? Not so much.

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A nice Autumn/Winter wreath would look good above that table on your porch…

I agree!

I need to go shopping.

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Robyn, you MUST get a jack-o-lantern on that front porch ASAP!!!! 😀

I talked about it, actually, but Fred said “That would be like a friendly invitation for people to come knock on the door on Halloween!” He’s such a curmudgeon.

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In terms of beans and their effect on the digestive system: a few drops of beano (or a beano tablet) eaten with the beans works wonders for me. It’s a great product for reducing gas. Of course, if you have high blood pressure,you may want to keep the gas, but that’s another story….

and

Regarding beans and gas – if you soak dried beans and change the water 3 times during the first day, then the morning of the second day, you can cook them and will not get gas. (my father – who is from the country here in Texas) told me this recently – I had no idea.

I have absolutely tried Beano and also the changing of the water, and both of them work nicely, but Fred is so very sad when beans do NOT give him gas that I can’t bring myself to disappoint him.

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Kim is SO not 29!

and

No way in hell is that Kim woman 29!!! And what are these emails of which you speak?

I’m starting to think that Kim is one of those “29 and holding” women and might be closer to 40.

The emails I was referring to (which I quoted from the past two weeks regarding RHoATL) are just emails I traded with a friend. I probably oughta just start up a forum somewhere for us to talk about the show, shouldn’t I?

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LOVING the True Blood! Bill, fine; Sam, fine; Rene? HOT. AS. FIRE.

I have to say, I do like me some Rene (though I have to admit that my favorite male on the show is LaFayette. He cracks me up every week.).

This most recent episode, where Sookie and Bill were babysitting Arlene’s kids? That whole scene with them goofing off at the kitchen table was just stupid and goofy and contrived and I hated it. I DO NOT WANT MY VAMPIRES TO ACT LIKE GOOFBALLS AND TRY TO CHARM CHILDREN, PLEASE.

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Thanks for asking about hand-held vacuums. I’m looking forward to the answers. Sounds like Dysons are hit or miss, but whatever I end up buying, I’ll use the heck out of for a week and return if it can’t do the job. My friend in Canada likes her Eureka EZ Clean Bagless Hand Vacuum; anybody else have one of those? A local friend likes her hand-held, but doesn’t remember what it is. She’s supposed to bring it to work on Monday and let me try it out for a couple of days.

and

For picking up the food that drops (or is thrown)off the trays of my just turned three year old, active, messy little boys, I use a cordless Black and Decker CHV1560 15.6 volt cyclonic action dustbuster. It works fine picking up both dry and wet things, like oatmeal.

Anyone else got a hand vacuum they love?

My Dyson hand held is currently housing about 10 wasps. I actually tried to free them, since you can just hit the lever to let the bottom drop open, and when I dropped the bottom off the canister, the dumbasses climbed up higher in the canister. I figure, if they’re going to be THAT GODDAMN STUPID when I’m trying to give them their freedom, then THEY DESERVE TO DIE.

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Does Kara ever get sad about not having her babies around? I must have missed the entry where you announced her adoption

I wrote about our adopting Kara here. Wow, it’s only been a week? It seems like it’s been much longer – I guess because she was with us for six months before we decided to adopt her!

Kara was sad and quiet and contemplative for a few days after her babies left, but she got over it pretty quickly. I often wonder what she’d do if she came face-to-face with one of her babies, whether she’d remember them or not. I had kind of hoped that when she saw the new foster kittens that her maternal instinct might kick in and she might want to mother them a little, but not so much: she continues to hiss and growl at them.

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Do the cats poop outside or save it for indoors?

It depends on the cat. Some of them prefer the outdoors, some of them prefer the indoors. I swear that Tommy, Sugarbutt, Mister Boogers, and Joe Bob will wait until I happen to glance out the window before they get into position right there where I can see them. The girls prefer to come inside and use the litter box, and Spanky can go either way.

Suffice it to say that we don’t walk barefoot through our back yard.

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Are you finding the pork from your piggies tastes different than store bought? We recently got a hobby farm side of beef and I found it delicious while hubby found it ‘gamey’. I think we are so used to all the crap in meats we don’t know what it is supposed to taste like.

We’re finding that the pork from Big Pig is very, very flavorful and tender, but it tends toward being fatty. Big Pig was a fat bastard, and we also let them get bigger than we should have before we took them off to be processed, so that probably has something to do with the amount of fat on our roasts and pork chops. The butcher took some of the shoulder and sliced it into very thin steaks, and OH MY GOD, that is the best stuff ever. Taste-wise, when pork shoulder steaks are cooked on the grill, it tastes just like beef. It’s a minor inconvenience to have to cut the fat off from around the edges of the meat.

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Foster kittens are doing well. I’m going to start letting them out of their room this weekend and see how that goes. So far, Lem seems most interested in finding out what’s on the other side of the door, but they’re kittens and thus nosy, so I suspect we’ll have them roaming all over the house before too long.

I wonder which kitten will be first to befriend one of our cats?

I suspect Lem.

More pics at L&H.

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I let Miz Poo out of the guest bedroom yesterday morning. Well, that is to say that I opened the guest bedroom door and she was snoozing on top of the kitty condo in a corner of the room. She stayed there for a couple of hours (I left the door open so she could come out whenever she wanted), and then all of a sudden I was sitting at my computer, and glanced out the window to see her slinking across the yard.

She spent the rest of the day alternating between hanging out in the back yard and snoozing in a cat bed in the front room.

I’d say she’s feeling better (and getting accustomed to the no-cone collar).

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Previously
2007: Holy crap, I’ve been married for 9 years!
2006: We’ve been married for eight years now. And they said it’d never last!
2005: Let the Seven Year Itch commence!
2004: Happy anniversary, you walnut-farting motherfucker.
2003: We’ve been married for five years as of today.
2002: He even sent me flowers.
2001: And they said it’d never last.
2000: And happy anniversary to Fred, who married me two years ago tonight, which was the smartest thing he’s ever done.
1999: “We don’t have to get married. We could just wait ’til next year. Shouldn’t we get married on the anniversary of the day we met? That would be more romantic!”

10/30/08

So, I couldn’t get online before I left for the pet store this morning, so I reacted like a great big baby and had a temper tantrum and posted some pictures via Flickr. You got to see me whine about my internet being down, whine about the sun in my eyes on the way to … Continue reading “10/30/08”

Who says it’s unexciting around here?!

If you ever check this site and see a crappy camera phone picture posted via Flickr, you can assume it’s because my goddamn internet is down AGAIN and the only way I can post is via Flickr (did I mention that Flickr ROCKS?).

I think if I’m going to be posting camera phone pictures, I need a phone that takes better pictures. Dontchathink?

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I belong to Goodreads, and every so often one of you ask to be my Goodreads BFF, and of course I’m happy to add you as a friend, even though I’m horribly bad at keeping up with adding the books I’ve read to my list.

But what really annoys me is when someone requests to be added as a Goodreads friend for the sole goddamn purpose of spamming me because they’ve written some shitty book and think because I read books, I’ll want to read the poorly-written book they’re flogging.

Hint: throwing extra adjectives into a book summary doesn’t actually make it sound more interesting. It makes it sound like it was written by a fifth grader with a thesaurus in hand.

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Do not cry for Miz Poo, y’all. She is being babied and given the full Princess treatment, to the max. Yesterday morning when I walked into the guest bedroom, she was hanging out in the cubby of the bedside table. I carried her out into the living room with me and we watched The Real Housewives of Atlanta (more on that in a moment), and I took the cone collar off her and scratched her ears and around her neck until she drooled. And then she slept for a long time, and demanded more scratching, and more drooling ensued. I eventually put her back in the guest bedroom so I could go out and touch up the paint on the new chicken coop (when I’m not around to keep an eye on her, I put her in the guest bedroom so the other cats won’t harass her), and then I spent another couple of hours on the couch with her in the afternoon. When I don’t actually have her in my lap, I put the no-cone collar on her. She hasn’t actually shown any interest in licking or biting at the drain or her stitches, but I’d hate to leave her alone and come back to find that she’d pulled the drain out.

Pardon me while I shudder at the idea.

She was a lot more bright-eyed and with-it yesterday morning than she’d been the night before, but we’ve got her on the pain medication so she’s still pretty doped up and sleeps a lot. I think the pain medication is doing a good job, because she doesn’t appear to be in any pain.

Last night when we sat down to watch TV, we took her collar off. She sat on a pillow on my lap for two and a half hours, and she cleaned herself for about two hours and twenty minutes of that time. She did try to lick at her stitches and drain, but I stopped her every time, and she’d look at me like “THIS IS MY BODY I WILL DO WHAT I WANT I HATE YOU WILL YOU SCRATCH MY EARS PLEASE?”

She’ll be fine – don’t worry about my baby, I’ll keep her spoiled rotten.

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Real Housewives of Atlanta (skip to the next section if you’re not interested!)

Honest to god, I kind of thought that they’d hype DeShawn’s gala event as being a big flop only so they could jump out of the closet and scream SURPRISE! when all of a sudden the bidding started and DeShawn managed to bring one million and ONE dollars in for her foundation. But holy cripes, what a flop. I thought she was kind of uninformed and naive about how to run a gala, but I ended up feeling sorry for her because of the HUGE flop it turned out to be. They ended up spending $20,000 more on putting the gala ON than they made!

I’m curious why that one woman made a point of asking if LeBron James (I don’t know sports, but even I recognize the name) was going to be there, acted all excited that there’d be some sort of LeBron-centric package being auctioned off, and then pointedly didn’t bid.

When DeShawn was looking for Mark Hayes, I thought she was looking for some guy named Marques. Heh.

When Kim decided to buy that diamond cuff at the gala and she was all “I have to call Big Poppa and tell him I bought this!”, I assume that was a call that went along the lines of “Big Poppa, listen to what you just bought me with the credit card you gave me!”

(By the way, if you’re curious, the word on the web seems to be that “Big Poppa” is married real estate developer Lee Najjar, whoever the hell that is. I don’t know that I’d consider him a “celebrity” as Kim said in the first show, but then I’m not part of the Atlanta social scene, so maybe he’s a celebrity in Atlanta.)

Am I getting this right? Lisa was going to a trunk show to showcase her jewelry, and she and a bunch of friends were sitting around MAKING the jewelry? Because I don’t actually think of jewelry at Macy’s being stringed together by a bunch of people at a kitchen table – but then I’m also not really Macy’s target jewelry (or “JOOORY”, as everyone on this damn show pronounces it) demographic either, so what do I know? (I think Lisa is absolutely gorgeous, by the way, but I prefer her hair curly to straight.)

You know, Kim’s insistence on continually telling Sheree how beautiful she is, is just weird and I think even Sheree was getting uncomfortable with all the smoke Kim was blowing up her ass.

There’s going to be some DRAMA next week, looks like. NeNe doesn’t back down from confrontation, so it should be something to see.

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Pictures from around Crooked Acres:

Kara’s assimilation into the Crooked Acres Gang is just about complete. You can’t see it in this picture, but she’s wearing a collar. She LOVES to be outside, and she’s mostly got the hang of the cat door. When she goes outside, she flops down at the bottom of the steps and rolls around. At night, when the door is closed, she tries to lead us to the door every time we head in that direction. I’m sure she’ll understand eventually that night time means no going outside.

Hello, Fall.

We call these three the Three Musketeers. In the few days since I took this picture, they actually got too big to squeeze through the fence, but for a while there they were spending all their time in the side yard cleaning up under the bird feeders.

These girls sure do flop down and sleep hard. Sometimes we have to call them several times before they wake up.

These two have suddenly started flying up and hanging out on top of the gate between the chicken yard and the back yard. Makes me wonder if we’ve got another couple of roosters on our hands.

Hawk, checking out the chickens.

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I told Fred yesterday that if I had the naming to do over again, I’d name him Dr. Google instead of Delmar. At least once a day I get the once-over from him. He sniffs my nostrils, my eyes and my breath before he decides that I continue to be healthy. And then he gives me an arm massage before he flops down for petting. He’s part-physician, part-masseuse, ALL lovebug!

The kittens got over being mad at me for taking them off to the scary place pretty quickly – yesterday afternoon Delmar, Marion and Lem all crowded around me and climbed on me, head-butted me for petting, and then complained when I wasn’t quick enough with the petting. They’re so demanding.

Tonight they get their vaccinations, and I expect in the next few days, if they’re interested, I’ll let them out to roam the house. I’ve let Kara in the kitten room to visit with them a few times. She hisses at them and puffs up, but they just look at her like, “What’s YOUR problem?” Our cats might have freaked them out initially, but now they’re not scared at all when Kara or Tommy or Mister Boogers pokes their head into the room.

Claudette continues to be a scaredy cat. It’s like she wants to be friendly, but she’s just too scared to come over for petting. It seems like tortis are always either terrified little scaredy cats, or completely nuts.

(Well, I suppose that goes for ALL cats, really, doesn’t it?)

I expect that she’ll come around eventually, and when she gives in to her deep-down desire to be a snugglebug, she’ll really be a sight to behold.

“Whyyyyyyyy are you not petting me right now? Whyyyyyyyyyy?”

More pics over at L&H.

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Stinkerbelle would like you all to know that those of you who pointed out that she’s no longer a “little thing” can KISS HER ASS.

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Previously
2007: “Jesus christ, LENNY. I’m not going to PET THE DEAD SQUIRREL.”
2006: Isn’t it nice that I named cats that aren’t mine?
2005: No entry.
2004: List of fives.
2003: (Also, Nance called me “nice.” That bitch!)
2002: But I don’t guess that introspection is the forte of that particular diva.
2001: Who tells stories about you?
2000: This morning, red and goopy.
1999: (Side note: I did nothing, and that just pisses me off. I wish I could go back and smack the shit out of that jerk. I hope his life is hellish).

10-30-08_0809.jpeg

10-30-08_0809.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

10-30-08_0809.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson.

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

10-30-08_0744.jpeg

10-30-08_0744.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson. Jabbers says hiiiiii!

10-30-08_0744.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson.

Jabbers says hiiiiii!

10-30-08_0719.jpeg

10-30-08_0719.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson. This time next week, the sun won’t be in my eyes on the drive into the pet store. I love turning the clocks back!

10-30-08_0719.jpeg, originally uploaded by RobynAnd3rson.

This time next week, the sun won’t be in my eyes on the drive into the pet store. I love turning the clocks back!