Category: Fostering

“Come ON, guys, it’s PICTURE time again, what a SHOCK. Cindy, get out from behind Marcia and let’s get this over with!”

“Wait. Perhaps now would be the ideal time to let you know that I HAZ A COMPLAINT. And my complaint is that my nose is dirty. You feed me canned food mixed with pumpkin, and then you want to take my picture?”

“My nose is dirty and I DON’T LIKE IT.”

::pout::

“I DON’T LIKE IT, you hear me?”

Jan says, “Oh, there’s a surprise. Pipsqueak Bobby has a complaint. I have eye boogers, but do you hear ME complaining? NO. It just adds to my charm.”

Peter says, “I have no complaints. I look absolutely smashingly perfect and everyone who sees me wants to kiss me on top of my adorable head.”

“Ehn! Ehn! Let me through! I want to be in the picture, too!”

Greg adds, “I have a little food on my nose, too. I’m saving it for later.”

Cindy pipes in with “I could be covered in food from head to toe, and I’d still be unbearably adorable.”

“Maybe one day you’ll learn to use that flash right, lady, and all the good pictures won’t come out too dark!”

Everyone’s a critic.

You can’t tell from this angle, but Kara’s actually a very small cat. Not the most slimming angle – or position, I guess.

Previously
2009: “My shower was more sparkly than Edward Cullen in the sunlight at high noon!”
2008: It’s not been a good time to be a finger on the hand of Robyn And3rson lately.
2007: When one has to peck the ground for bugs and worms, one gets mud on one’s beak.
2006: So that’s the story of my search for the perfect bra, and how I found it.
2005: I probably have a brain tumor.
2004: I swear, my Grinchly heart grew three sizes right then and there.
2003: A tree with glass ornaments? In a house with five cats?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I told Fred we should hire her out to the local police agencies and she could tell them when someone looks like a “drug person.”
1999: Fred and I came to an agreement last night. The end of March, I’m going off the birth control, and we’re going to start trying to get pregnant. (HahahahahahaHAHA! My, how times have changed!)

We rented movies at Blockbuster on Friday – I mentioned them yesterday – and they were due back yesterday morning. So after I got up and did all my usual morning stuff, I decided that since I had to go up into town anyway, I’d go by the post office and then swing by Publix and get all the stuff on my grocery list. I also had a couple of packages to drop off at the local post office, which I planned to do on my way home from the other errands.

I’d gotten all my morning chores done by 7, but since the local post office doesn’t open until 8:30, I didn’t want to leave the house that early. I puttered around for an hour, and then finally left the house.

I got my mail at the post office, then headed for Publix which is on the other end of town from the post office OF COURSE, but traffic wasn’t bad, and I got there pretty quickly. I had a huge list of stuff to get, because I’m going to be making a lot of Christmas cookies later this week, and I was running low on everything.

I had gotten just about everything on my list, when I glanced at the bottom.

**MOVIES** I’d written, all in caps, with stars on either side.

Fucking jesus christ almighty fucking fucking FUCK.

I’d forgotten the movies. Had it occurred to me to GET the movies last night and put them in my purse or near my keys? OF COURSE NOT. Instead, I helpfully put them on the grocery list so I wouldn’t forget. Except I hadn’t looked at the grocery list before I left the house. So I was going to have to go home, unload the groceries, and then go ALL THE FUCKING WAY back to town to return the movies.

Fucking fuck fuck fuck.

I hate it when I do that flighty-brained shit. I mean, it’s not like it’s a great long trek from our house to Blockbuster – 15 minutes or so each way – but it’s the principle of the matter. I wasn’t going to even GO into town yesterday, but I figured since I HAD to go to town to return the movies, I’d get everything done at once.

CLEARLY THAT DID NOT WORK OUT.

It wasn’t so bad, in the end. I got home, unloaded my groceries, ate breakfast, hung out with the kittens, and then moseyed back into town with the movies, which is conveniently located across the street from The Dollar Tree, which I’d been meaning to visit. Several months ago, I happened across some microcloth cleaning cloths there. They were intended to be used for cleaning, but they were so soft that I knew instantly that the cats would love them. It wasn’t that annoying microcloth that sticks to your hands all creepy-like, either – they’re so, so soft. I bought ten of them (they were $1 each), and I was right – the cats LOVE them. I use them to line the cat beds on my desk, so I can just grab ’em and wash them every so often instead of having to clean the whole bed. I went back to the Dollar Tree about a month later, and of course they didn’t have them any more. I’ve been meaning to stop by ever since, just in case they got more in stock.

They didn’t have any yesterday, either. If the ones I bought had tags on them, I’d locate them online somewhere and buy a zillion of them, but I missed my window on that.

Oh well – it’s not like the cats will suffer once the ones I have are all beaten and threadbare, I’ll just find something else to put in the cat beds, right?

Then I moseyed on home and made a batch of corn chowder to have for lunch all this week. In and among my errand-running and kitten snuggling and dollar store shopping, I had to lug a buckets of boiling water out to the chicken yard every two hours. With the wind chill, it was well below freezing all day, and the chickens and dogs and pigs don’t have water heaters because IT NEVER GETS THAT COLD IN ALABAMA HA HA HA. I’d boil a big pot of water, dump it into the bucket, lug it out to the chicken yard and pour enough hot water into each chicken waterer, dog water dish, and the pig water trough to melt the layer of ice and keep more ice from forming for a while.

I hear that tomorrow it’s supposed to get back above freezing, but we might get some freezing rain. I guess I better drive safely on my way to South Huntsville!

It’s been almost three years since I had my lower body lift, and it’s time for a breast lift. Those of you who haven’t been reading long, here’s the scoop: in January 2006, I had RNY gastric bypass weight loss surgery and subsequently lost 145ish pounds (or, if you prefer, almost 200 pounds from my very highest weight), which is documented here. In April 2008, I had a lower body lift, which is also documented at that site. (I am very very very happy with the results of the lower body lift, btw.)

I had hoped to have a breast lift last January, but with the possibility that Fred might be about to lose his job, I put it off. Now I’m going tomorrow for a consultation. I’m more than a little tired of the lemons-in-a-tube-sock look. We’ve been saving for this (though I should add that Fred would LOVE IT if I didn’t have surgery. He says supportive things like “They don’t bother me!”, and I think it’s sweet that he thinks my desire to have them hoisted up to a reasonable position on my body has anything to do with whether they bother him or not. I should add here that I’m talking about a breast LIFT, and there will not be any implants involved. Having big boobehs for the first half of my life has made me long for small perky ones.)

Anyway, that’s why I’ll be braving the potential freezing rain tomorrow! I’m sure if the cost is in line with what we’ve saved, I’ll be scheduling that surgery as soon as possible.

And then I’ve promised Fred that there will be NO MORE SURGERY.

(I can feel my appendix taking that as a challenge.)

Last week I checked at Publix and found no Meyer lemons. Then I checked at Sam’s and found no Meyer lemons. Then I shot off an email to local ReaderFriend Jean and was all “WTF? Have you ever seen Meyer lemons around here? I’m starting to take this as a challenge!”

Because she is AWESOME, Jean apparently checked at every store in Huntsville and found me some Meyer lemons! Fred got them from her yesterday (Jean works near where Fred works), and these things smell AMAZING. I haven’t used them yet – I’m going to candy some of them, and possibly make lemon curd from the rest), but I can’t wait!

(Thanks again, Jean. You rock!)

You know how yesterday I said that Cindy and Bobby were “just under” two pounds, as reported by Fred, who’d gone upstairs to weigh them?

Last night when we were hanging out with the kittens before bed, I grabbed up Cindy (who’s the smallest) and went to weigh her to see how close she was to two pounds.

One pound, ten ounces. Now, I ask you – how is that “just under” two pounds? That’s “just over” a pound and a half, if you ask me!

I mean, not that it matters that much. At least she’s gaining weight – just not quite as quickly as I thought!

“Halllp. Meeeee.”

Okay.

Poking wee Cindy Brady so she’ll flail around and look adorable?

Probably not a good idea. But I can’t help it. She cracks me up!

“You poke ME, you’re gonna lose that finger, lady. You get me?”

Reacher was on the couch in the living room, and I was trying to get a good low-light picture of him (ie, I was messing around with the camera settings without a clue as to what I was doing, and then snapping pictures to see what would happen). I was kneeling in the hallway, and I guess there were cats gathering behind me, and it disturbed Reacher.

Doesn’t he look disturbed? I’m disturbed, too – I have no clue what settings I had the camera on.

Corbie, snoozing on my bed.

Corbie, in the blue basket in the kitchen. (That is not, I hasten to assure you, a bucket of chocolate buttercream icing behind him. It once held chocolate buttercream frosting, but when I purchased it at the flea market, it was empty. It currently holds all-purpose flour. I buy the big bag at Sam’s, and needed a big place to store it. That bucket is perfect.)

Miz Poo, in my bedroom window, in the sun. Sweet, sweet girl.

Previously
2009: WTF with these people and the “keep going”?!
2008: No entry.
2007: Well, I don’t “always” say it. In fact, that would be the first time I’ve ever said it. But I’ll say it more in the future!
2006: “MY BABY IS IN PAIN, MAKE IT STOP!”
2005: I’m impressed with myself, if you couldn’t tell.
2004: It is in the 20s here today, IS IT OKAY FOR ME TO BE COLD NOW?
2003: (”Thanks, me! I’m so thoughtful!”)
2002: No entry.
2001: Trust me, it was far more horrifying-looking in person.
2000: Babbling.
1999: No entry.

Oh, it turned colllllld here on Sunday. I went outside as little as I could, which was made possible by the fact that Fred was home and could go out to check the water for the chickens, pigs, and dogs and make sure it hadn’t frozen over.

Today he’s back at work, so I have to trudge out there a couple of times today. You bet your ass I’ll be bundled up in my heaviest winter coat, hat, and gloves. I hate it when it gets this damn cold, but at least I have my space heater next to me, my electric throw on the couch in the front room, and an electric blanket on my bed. There’s a space heater in the kittens’ room (which turns off immediately if you so much as think about knocking it over) and they have a heating pad on the floor, too.

So we’re all staying warm, is what I’m saying. Except for Fred, of course, who likes to wander around the house in a pair of shorts, t-shirt, and long socks and bitch about how cold he is. But even he has an electric throw on his couch in the front room, so if he gets cold enough, he knows how to get warm again.

Because to put on more clothes would be lunacy, of course.

Friday afternoon we ran to Blockbuster to rent some movies (I love Netflix, but I hate that they don’t get new releases as soon as the video rental places do) because we knew the weather was supposed to be bad over the weekend.

Friday night, we watched about the first hour of Inception, and then Fred turned to me and said “What are your feelings on this movie?”

“I don’t give a shit about seeing the rest of it because it’s boring,” were my feelings, so we turned it off and watched some stuff on the DVR.

Saturday afternoon we watched Knight and Day and it probably shows what a non-highbrow type I am that I liked the movie. Cameron Diaz annoys me, but I usually like her movies. And I have no use for Tom Cruise, but I always enjoy his movies, too.

Is it just me, or does Cameron Diaz bear a striking resemblance to Kristin Chenoweth, especially when they smile?

Then we watched Splice and though it wasn’t at all my favorite movie and I found that my mind kept wandering, we did at least watch the whole thing. The ending was predictable, though.

So I would rank the movies as such, in order of how much I liked them (most to least): Knight and Day, Splice, Inception.

Somewhere, Roger Ebert is covering his eyes in horror.

I got GREAT news Saturday – after two and a half months, Melodie and Dodger were finally adopted. TOGETHER! I was starting to worry that no one was ever going to adopt those two (and when I saw them on Tuesday when I took Buster to be adopted, I was amazed at how big they’d gotten), so it’s like a Christmas miracle.

It sounds like adoptions have picked up a little, so hopefully a lot more cats will find forever homes soon. Fingers crossed!

The Brady Bunch are packing on the ounces. I weighed them mid-week last week, and found that Greg and Marcia have put on a pound each since the day we got them. The other kittens had put on a nice amount of weight (making up for the weight they lost when they weren’t feeling so hot) as well. Then on Saturday I had Fred re-weigh them all so we’d know the correct dose on the dewormer we were giving them, and it turned out that the only ones who weren’t over two pounds were Cindy and Bobby, who were only a few ounces below that weight.

So it looks like they’ll be ready for their spaying and neutering soon. I’ll weigh them mid-week to see where they are weight-wise, and either take them the end of this week or – more likely – next week.

They had their vaccination injections on Saturday. I held each of them while they were getting their shot, and not one of them stopped purring for a single second. They slept all day on Saturday and their injection sites were a little tender yesterday, but this morning they’re back to their wild little selves again.

Marcia watches the feather-on-a-stick toy and bides her time ’til it’s worth jumping for.

Lap o’ kittens.

Pack o’ kittens.

Vampire kitteh is feeling bitey.

::yawwwwwwwwwwwn::

Rhyme the smug monkey, proud of himself for claiming the kitchen cat platform. (Usually it’s Jake and Reacher up there.)

Pretty pretty pretty pretty Corbie.

We were running errands looking for something (I’m not being coy, I don’t remember what we were looking for), and we wandered into Burke’s Outlet. We ended up in the pet section (as we always do), and Fred was impressed that these huge dog/ cat beds were only $9.99. He wanted to get one, so I let him pick out which one he wanted to get (I’m so generous!). The first day we brought it home, none of the cats so much as glanced at it, and he kept fretting, “They hate it! They’re never going to use it!” The second day, Reacher gave it a try, and then Newt, and then Maxi, and it hasn’t been empty for a moment since. In that picture, Maxi’s giving it a try.

Kara’s all “You about done in there?”

Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: The vet tech said that Stinkerbelle was a beautiful cat, and I could see Fred’s ego swell to twice its size.
2006: I think we’re making progress.
2005: It’s hard to resist a chunky little orange kitty.
2004: (I’m not that much of an asshole. But it sure is fun to imagine!)
2003: Yet another meme.
2002: But I’ll say this – if your kitten is suffering from anal leakage, y’all, TAKE IT TO THE VET.
2001: No entry.
2000: “Why does it smell lemony fresh down here?”
1999: Martha Stewart would take one look at my tree and sob loudly, I’m sure.

Grrr.

We are having internet issues. Hopefully they’ll be resolved today. I expect to be back tomorrow with a real entry, even if I have to drive to McDonald’s and connect to their wi-fi to upload it.

Here’s some cute to tide you over ’til then.

Rhyme, having perused the Godiva catalog, knows EXACTLY what to get his (foster) mom for Christmas! He’s a smart, smart boy.

Previously
2009: I HAVE THE SOLUTION FOR YOU!
2008: Fred laughed and laughed and laaaaaaaaughed, because it’s always funny when someone else is the idiot, isn’t it?
2007: Miss Stinky Seethes.
2006: No entry.
2005: It’s the little things that amuse us, obviously.
2004: Mister Boogers does his Donald Trump impression
2003: FUCKING spam.
2002: Are you an innie or an outie?
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: God, the smell.

Here’s a little back story for y’all. We bought this house in September of 2006. Before we closed on the house, we were here looking around and making plans for what we wanted to do to the inside and to the property. We were walking toward the back door when a little black cat showed up to greet us. She was clearly a momma cat who was still nursing, and after we closed on the house, we’d make sure there was always some food on the front porch for her.

That was Maxi.

We had no idea where she’d come from, so Fred asked the man next door, who pointed us to the lady on his other side. Fred talked to her, and she said that basically the little black cat was a stray, and that she wasn’t sure where she’d come from.

A little while longer, she started showing up with a buff tabby. That was Newt.

Newt wouldn’t let us touch him for a few weeks, and then he’d let us touch him for a moment or two before he skittered off. Maxi continued showing up, still clearly nursing kittens. We wondered where on earth the kittens were, but had no luck finding them.

One afternoon I was upstairs painting one of the rooms, and Fred came in and told me to come with him. I followed him out onto the front porch, and found Maxi, Newt, and four kittens.

Maxi had clearly decided we were trustworthy and brought her kittens around. The kittens were skittish around us, but when we were able to touch them, we grabbed them up and brought them inside.

We (really, Fred) named them Fezzik, Westley, Inigo, and Buttercup (names from The Princess Bride).

We fostered them for a short amount of time. They were fixed and got all their shots, and then went off to Petsmart. Maxi and Newt stayed here.

(The vet told me that she thought Newt was probably Maxi’s from a previous litter. We found out later through the previous owner of this house, that Maxi had belonged to her family. But that when it was time for them to move, they – and I quote – “Couldn’t get hold of her.” I won’t say what I’m thinking – but I believe you can just imagine.)

I tell you all of this to lead you into what happened this weekend (and last night), that will likely surprise a lot of you.

On Saturday, the shelter manager called. She said that she’d just talked to the woman who adopted Inigo (one of the black and white kittens), and she was interested in adopting one of my fosters.

I got a chance to think “Someone’s interested in adopting a Brady ALREADY?” and then she told me. The woman wasn’t interested in adopting a Brady. She was interested in adopting one of my OTHER fosters.

Buster, to be exact.

I was so shocked that I barely heard the other things the shelter manager told me, but I took the woman’s name and number, and hung up. Then I called and left a message for her.

To make a long story short, last night I took Buster to Petsmart to meet with her. I took Rhyme with us, just to give her a choice of a second cat if Buster didn’t strike her fancy.

Buster struck her fancy, all right – and she adopted him! So I left Petsmart with Rhyme, and she stayed and filled out the adoption paperwork.

I don’t doubt that a lot of you are probably very surprised that I was willing to let Buster go. I don’t think I was very secretive about the fact that he’s my favorite Bookworm. He’s gorgeous (well really, all my Bookworms are!), and he’s got a ton of personality, to boot. Fred told me last night that he was really surprised I didn’t suggest that we adopt Buster instead of allowing him to be adopted out.

This is the thing – I love Buster a great deal. But we’ve just got too many cats in this house! I felt it would be more fair to Buster to allow him to go to a good home where he’d be one of two cats and would get lots of attention from his new mom and dad than to insist that he stay here, where – let’s be honest – sometimes the cats get lost in the crowd.

Let’s say I love him enough to let him go, admit that I miss him A LOT, and be happy that at the age of 10 months, someone fell in love with his funny, gorgeous little face and wanted to bring him home.

“Hear that, suckahs? Someone BEGGED to be allowed to adopt me! Obviously someone with good taste!”

Sweet Buster Brown (he’s a clown. He gets around!) yesterday.

Baby Buster.

Previously
2009: This fucking horseshit sure is moving at a fucking snail’s pace.
2008: ::DESPAIR::
2007: Stinkerbelle: “I have put my stamp of love upon him, and now I shall lay here and seethe with hatred for those hussies who think they can have him. THEY CANNOT.”
2006: Newton (full name: Newton “Newtie” McNewterton, the salty country kitty) is pretty, yet aloof. It drives the wimmins CRAYZEE.
2005: “Us”? Who’s this “us” kemosabe?
2004: I suppose I need to actually start buying lottery tickets to make these dreams come true.
2003: And also because you Canadians are so cool that I want to canoodle with each and every one of you.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: God bless the internet and online merchants, god bless their little black hearts.
1999: More Christmas talk.

Thanks, all y’all, for your input on air purifiers. I think that, for now, I’ll wear a mask when I’m scooping (even though I don’t feel like I’m inhaling litter dust, I’m sure I must be), and see how that goes.

Those of you who are my Facebook friends know that I went to the post office in my pink Rudolph (I assume he’s Rudolph – he’s got a red nose. Well, actually, more like a dark pink nose – and he’s blue. But I’m pretty sure it’s Rudolph just the same) sleep pants yesterday. Those things are SO FREAKIN’ COMFORTABLE that I couldn’t bear to run upstairs (SUCH A LONG TRIP) to grab a pair of jeans. I gambled that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the post office, and as it turned out, that’s exactly how it was. But honestly, with some of the getups I’ve seen other people wear into that post office (one woman walked in in her bathrobe and slippers with curlers in her hair, I kid you not), it wouldn’t have been THAT horrifying if someone else had been around.

Jean asked, since I live across the street from the post office, if I walked over there. I did not – I drove. It was TOO FREAKIN’ COLD to walk (it’s not directly across the street, actually, it’s across the street and down. A pleasant walk when it’s not thirty degrees below zero).

I’d had no fewer than four people say to me, in the last few days when I’ve said something about the cold, “But you’re from Maine!”

I am from Maine – but I’ve lived here for 14 years now. My body’s gotten used to the warm weather, so this cold-ass shit (the high was just above freezing yesterday)(and yes, I’m aware that those of you in the Midwest and Northeast and all other areas of the country where it gets and stays truly COLD are weeping tears of sorrow for my sad, sad plight) is COLD.

I realized yesterday that I’ve lived in Alabama longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere. My father was in the Air Force when I was born, and retired when I was going into 6th grade. That’s when we settled in Lisbon Falls, which I consider my hometown. I was 21 or 22 when my first husband – the spud’s father – and I moved to Rhode Island for a couple of years (and then I moved back to Maine for a couple of years, then back to Rhode Island), so all in all I spent about 10 years in Maine.

Not that having lived here for 14 years makes me a Southerner by any stretch of the imagination – but I could probably pull off a credible “Bless her heart” if I needed to.

I spent the better part of yesterday morning dealing with kumquats. We bought citrus trees at Lowe’s this summer because they were marked way down. We harvested our satsuma oranges last month and they were REALLY good. Fred decided to go ahead and pick the kumquats last week because it was supposed to go below freezing overnight, and we ended up with a good-sized bowl. I looked around online and decided to make kumquat marmalade. I deseeded and chopped up the kumquats and two oranges, let them sit overnight, boiled everything Sunday morning, then decided I didn’t want to deal with it, so let it sit for one more night. Yesterday, I tossed the fruit in the food processor (I don’t like really big chunks of fruit in my marmalades or jam – which those of you who’ve bought jam from me may have noticed), let it whir for a few seconds, then added it back to the liquid, added the sugar, and let it start boiling.

Now, the motherfucking recipe said that I needed to let it boil until it reached “gel state”, and added that that would be when it reached 220 – 222ºF. I put the pot of fruit, liquid, and sugar on high, and let it boil. It boiled and boiled. It boiled some more. And then? More boiling. I stirred it frequently, and every ten minutes or so I checked the temperature with the candy thermometer (why do I own a candy thermometer? Fuck if I know). I don’t know exactly how long that stuff boiled, but it was well over an hour. By the time it finally reached the gel stage, I was ready to toss it out the back door and tell it to go fuck itself.

Patience is not my strong suit.

But finally it reached the correct temperature, and I poured it in jars and processed it. When Fred got home, he opened one of the jars and we both tried it. Ugh. It was almost the consistency of taffy. The flavor was good, but the consistency left a lot to be desired. Probably we could zap it in the microwave for a few seconds to partially liquefy it when we’re wanting to use it on biscuits or whatever, but we have SEVEN half-pints of the stuff, which I suspect we will never come close to using.

Once the marmalade was done, I looked at the half-bowl of kumquats I had left over, and consulted Google, that know-it-all bitch.

I ended up making one batch of candied kumquats

(halve and seed the kumquats, boil them in a syrup of sugar water (1:1 sugar and water) until they’re tender and the syrup is syrupy, put them in a half-pint jar, process like you’d process jam)

and one batch of a different kind of candied kumquats

(halve and seed the kumquats, cut the halves into two slices (you could go with wedges or slices, doesn’t matter), boil in sugar water (1:1 sugar and water) until they’re tender (15 minutes), drain, toss with granulated sugar, lay slices out on a piece of wax or parchment paper, let them cool, cover with plastic wrap and let them sit for 24 hours)

After we tried the marmalade when Fred got home, we tried the candied kumquats in syrup, and I’ve gotta say – that stuff’s pretty damn good, especially the consistency. Then we tried the sugared candied kumquats (even though they hadn’t been sitting for 24 hours yet), and they were very reminiscent of those orange slices you can buy in the candy section.

Which has got me thinking that candied lemon slices tossed in sugar might be kind of good. Doesn’t that sound tasty? Google informs me that my best bet would be to use Meyer lemons. Google further informs me that Meyer lemons should be in season right about now. I’ve never had a Meyer lemon in my life, but you’d better believe I’ll be looking for them at the grocery store!

Did I perhaps mention that the Brady Bunch like themselves some sunshine? They can always be found, mid-morning, on the cat tree platform. Yesterday morning I went out to check the mail, and as I walked back to the house, I looked up to see all six kittens staring down at me from the cat tree platform. Bobby, of course, was complaining. I wish I’d had the camera with me!

Maxi, in the cat bed on the table in the front room. When she and Newt spend more time inside than out, you know it’s just about Winter!

Previously
2009: Guess who played Santa at Petsmart on Saturday?
2008: No entry.
2007: That’s approximately 100 pounds of litter every two weeks.
2006: “I LOOK LIKE SID VICIOUS!” I said.
2005: I AM SO HAPPY, YES I AM.
2004: (I never claimed not to be a dumbass)
2003: I would be ever so grateful if you would restrain yourself.
2002: No entry.
2001: I knew y’all were a hip and happenin’ bunch of readers!
2000: Stuff I’ve bought.
1999: And it tasted excellent, of course, which made the eggfart stenchiness more than worth it.

So, since y’all know a lot about a lot, tell me this: air purifiers. Are they worth it, or just a waste of money? The amount of dust that gets kicked up every time I scoop the litter boxes is appalling, and Fred’s convinced I’m going to die of lung cancer because of all the litter dust I inhale every day. If air purifiers do a decent job of, y’know, purifying the air, I’d put one in the laundry room and another one upstairs. But given that they’re pretty expensive, I’d rather hear what y’all have to say about them before I seriously consider bringing one or two of them home.

What I love about selling stuff on eBay (which I don’t do very often) is when you list something with a very reasonable “buy it now” price. And then someone thinks they can get it for less than the “buy it now”, so they start bidding at 99 cents. And then, in the end, the highest bid is invariably a buck or two more than the “buy it now” was. LOVE IT when that happens!

Over the weekend, we watched Top Gun, which was first released something like 24 years ago. If you were wondering, the movie doesn’t age all that well – the cocky pilots and navigators with their smart-ass comments comes across as incredibly cheesy these days. However, you get to see Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, and many other young and hot Hollywood hunks running around without shirts on, and that’s always worth sitting through the cheesy dialogue and horrific 80s hair.

Speaking of hair, I do not believe that the Navy would have allowed one of their hotshot pilots to sport hair of this altitude. Seriously, how’d he get all that in the helmet? (But good GOD, wasn’t he young and pretty?)

The part of the movie I had forgotten about is after the accident, when Maverick is standing in the bathroom running his hand through the sink of water, and Viper comes in and is all “It happens. Get over it.” I was yelling “Yeah, Maverick, it’s been at LEAST a couple of hours! Stop wallowing in your grief! Get over it! Move on!” Jeez.

Also, I don’t get the Kelly McGillis appeal – but Meg Ryan, back before she got all that plastic surgery? ADORABLE.

Also also, I guess Hollywood actors went to veneers and super-brightening their teeth at some point AFTER Top Gun was released. Kelly McGillis’s teeth were kind of gray – and Tom Cruise had teeth that looked like teeth instead of big blocky square Chicklet teeth. Although, I don’t actually remember what Tom Cruise’s teeth look present day, at the moment – is he one of the few who hasn’t gone with veneers?

We also watched The Dark Half because Fred is rereading a lot of Stephen King lately, which makes him want to see movies that are based on the books. The Dark Half wasn’t bad. I’ve certainly seen worse – and of course I liked seeing Timothy Hutton and Amy Madigan looking 12 years old. (Fred dislikes Amy Madigan because he says she looks “mean.” ::rolling my eyes:: )

It’s only now, when the Brady Bunch kittens are constantly racing around like they’ve been slurping up those energy drinks instead of water, that I realize how poorly they must have been feeling last week and the week before. They’re actually playing, like the super-playful kittens they are, instead of wanting to just sit in my lap and be petted. Now, they make a petting pit stop for a few seconds before they’re off chasing each other around the room.

(Cindy, however, prefers to just sit in my lap and smack at the other cats as they race by. She cracks me UP.)

I was trying to get a shot of all six of them (except I don’t know where Bobby wandered off to). Left to right: Greg, Peter, Marcia, Cindy, Jan.)

Can’t tell that I was wildly waving a cat toy over my head so they’d look in my direction, can you?

The best thing about this room: when it’s sunny, the sun comes in through the windows from about mid-morning to mid-afternoon. Here, all six of them were piled up on the cat tree platform, asleep in the sun.

You can’t necessarily see all their little faces, but trust me – all six are there!

Trying to figure out what I’m doing.

Bobby haz a complaint. Now there’s a shocker!

Note that Cindy’s had quite enough of this, and escapes through the hole in the platform.

Enough cats, you think? On the steps, Joe Bob and Newt. Next to the steps, Jake. Further out in the yard, Sugarbutt and Elwood.

Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: I’m a Grinch, and not only a Grinch, but a LAZY Grinch who doesn’t want to have to pick shit up all the time.
2006: I need a vacation, is what I need.
2005: When and if – and I mostly mean “when” – these two break up, I hope there’s a lot of interesting drama.
2004: It’s now my goal to make him CRY when he tries the next batch of chick peas.
2003: “What the FUCK? That is my BUTT you’re sniffing. And it TICKLES.”
2002: $4.49 for a freakin’ book? What the hell are they wrapping it with, gold?
2001: Is that a sex thing?
2000: Damn, isn’t Christmas here yet?
1999: Someone shoot me and put me out of my fucking misery, won’t you?