Fostering – Page 61

10/16/09 – Friday

Vote for me! Please? Good Mood Gig from SAM-e (It’s to become a 6-month paid blogger for SAM-e. Details are here.) Thank you all for your votes! 🙂 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “10/16/09 – Friday”

Vote for me! Please?

Good Mood Gig from SAM-e

(It’s to become a 6-month paid blogger for SAM-e. Details are here.)

Thank you all for your votes! 🙂

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We like costco ground meat a lot. Higher quality and lower price than the chain grocery stores. How was their price on kitty litter compared to Sam’s?

I actually don’t know, because the only kind of litter I use is Fresh Step (the dust is a killer, but it clumps really well), and once I’d checked to be sure they don’t carry it, I didn’t even check the price on the litter they do carry.

(I feel very Vincent Vega, with that answer. “I don’t know. I didn’t go into Burger King.”)

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For the non cat owners, what is FIV?

Via Wikipedia: Feline immunodeficiency virus (FIV) is a lentivirus that affects domesticated housecats worldwide and is the causative agent of feline AIDS. Approximately 11% of cats worldwide, and about 2.5% of cats in the USA, are infected with FIV.

(If I ever slip and say “HIV” instead of “FIV”, please point that out to me so I can correct it. My brain keeps trying to get me to say “HIV.”)

From the reading I’ve done online, it’s unusual (though not impossible) for kittens to get FIV from their mother, so I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed that they come up negative with their second test in 53 days.

Unlike Feline Leukemia, which can be spread through casual contact, FIV doesn’t spread as easily and FIV+ cats can often be integrated into a household with FIV- cats with no issues.

A vigilant pet owner who treats secondary infections can assist an infected cat to live a reasonably long life. (Via Wikipedia)

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I’m wondering… do you vaccinate your permanent cats for FIV? For many years, our cats were strictly indoor-only, so we didn’t get any vaccinations (no risk, so no benefit). But we recently moved to a house on a road with very little traffic and a nice fenced back-yard, so the cats have started spending time outside (they LOVE it, by the way, and I feel terribly guilty that we couldn’t let them outside for so long). We did the standard rabies and combo vaccines (distemper and whatnot), and also decided to do FIV. There are lots of wandering neighborhood cats, and FIV is so easy to spread, we didn’t want to take a risk. With your cats being outside, but maybe not so many neighbor cats to interact with…. what do you think of the FIV vaccine? Worth it? No? And even if all the other cats were vaccinated, would you still want to keep a confirmed FIV+ cat away from them? (vaccine not being 100% preventative)

Except for Maxi and Newt, none of our cats come into contact with any cats who wander through the property (I’ve never seen any strange cats come into the back yard, and our cats are kept inside at night – again, except for Maxi and Newt.). We’ve considered vaccinating those two for FIV, but if they were ever caught by animal control and tested for FIV, they’d come up positive because of the vaccination, and would likely be put down.

FIV, from what I’ve read online, is not that easily spreadable – it requires deep bite wounds and scratches, where the infected cat’s saliva enters the other cat’s bloodstream (again, via Wikipedia), and I’ve read of cases where people integrated FIV+ cats into a household with FIV- cats with no issues.

(I’ve also read that neutering male cats can help to lessen the spread of FIV, as neutered males aren’t as territorial. If you go by our cats, I’d have to agree with that – the most aggressive cats in our house are Maxi and Kara. How do I get THEM neutered, can someone tell me please??)

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I am shocked you don’t watch Food Network! It’s like a default channel for background noise. Sometimes I learn something worthwhile, mostly I get annoyed, but it’s better than ESPN.

I don’t even know if we get Food Network. And I don’t really leave the TV on for background noise – we only have one TV (I know! It’s like we’re living in the freakin’ Dark Ages!) and it’s on the other end of the house from where I spend most of my time during the day. I listen to the radio for background noise!

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Did you always tell your younger sister tall tales? I’m the oldest of five-the sister and brother closest in age to me I teased, fought with- a lot of sibling rivalry. The baby brother (8 yrs younger) and sister (11 yrs younger) I teased a little but mostly adored and protected like a second mother.

No, not really – I seem to recall telling her once that I was adopted (how dorky is that?!), but that’s all I can recall. I’m sure she’ll correct me if I’m wrong!

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The big question is – did you leave the towels up there then forever since the cats like them so much? And Now I’m thinking you probably need to add flour sack towels to your list of things to buy since you don’t have any to actually use. I understand this concept, this is why we end up with tissue paper and boxes left out for weeks – because the kitties like ’em.

Oh, that pile of towels is still up there. Every once in a while if there’s no cat up there, I’ll pull out a towel or two. The pile is slowly diminishing, but I suppose that if I want to get all my towels, I need to put a cat bed up there for them to lay on instead!

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We are moving to a house with a bay window and I will need to get cat beds. Do your cats favor one kind over another? (Right now our tabby will sleep on anything but always chooses to sleep on the thing you most don’t want furred up. Our Siamese gets annoyed that we are taking up so much room in HIS bed.)

My cats aren’t terribly picky – it’s really about location; if I put a bed on my desk, they’ll eventually end up in it, no matter what it’s like. They really like the round Berber Faux Sheepskin beds, like this.

Also, I have these square beds with high sides that I picked up at Big Lots.

And they like them. They’re also fond of cushy beds with high sides.

But if I had to recommend one, it’d be a faux sheepskin bed – they come in small (like at the Petsmart link) or they come in a larger size, which you might have to venture over to the dog section to find.

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I just looked through your virtual tour of your houses. The first tour was so different! The Spud had toys all over her room, Miz Poo (who you referred to as “the kitten” followed you everywhere, AND there was a picture of “4 of the 5 cats.” !!!!!!!!!!!! 🙂

HA – I can’t believe there was a time when we only had FIVE cats. And I’m sure I regularly said “I can’t believe we have FIVE cats. That’s so many! We’ll never have more than that!”

For those of you who don’t look over at the sidebar, there’s a link (to the right) that says “Virtual House Tour”, and it’s got tours of all three houses we’ve lived in since I started this journal ten (!) years ago.

Man, I can’t believe we used to have a cookie jar collection.

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Do you just walk around the house with the camera strapped to your side all the time? Or do you have a camera in every room or? I ask because it seems like whenever my cats are doing anything amusing or cute, the camera is in another room or too far away to have even a chance of capturing the moment before it ends.

Nah – usually either something’s going on in the computer room, and I always have at least one camera within arms’ length so I can start snapping pictures in just a few seconds, or I’m going into the kitten room and grab a camera to take in with me. For every cute picture I get, there are probably ten that I wish I’d caught. With 21 cats in one house (albeit temporarily!), you can pretty much bet that any time you wander through the house with the camera, there’s going to be something interesting to take a picture of.

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I finally got myself and my girls some new kittens. Both of our much loved Cats passed over the summer. You would think they are still here, as much as we talk of them. But someone dropped some kittens at a bank here in town,and I stopped in and you can guess the rest! But the kittens would not purr for 2days? they do now, a lot, but have you ever seen that before? they are both sweet personalities, and beautiful tabbies…..Thanks love the blog!

Oh, I’ve definitely seen that before – are they very young? It seems like when they’re very little, they don’t know how that purring thing is supposed to go, and then they accidentally do it, and decide it’s kind of neat, and then they do it all the time!

Or maybe they were just nervous for the first few days. 🙂

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I’ve had several requests for close-up pictures of the boys who are going off to the adoption center today. I did my best to get pictures yesterday, and paired them up with “befores” – some of the “afters” are not so great, because these kittens were on FIRE yesterday, racing around like crazy. When they weren’t doing that, they were sleeping like the dead. In other words, it was hard to get good close-up pictures of them, but I did my best!

(And for the record, Terry is NOT becoming a permanent resident – he and Sookie are staying here for a little while longer because they’re not completely healed from their surgery. And there’s no way I could decide to keep Terry – because there’s no way on earth I could take Sookie to the adoption center alone. I’d feel horrible for her!)

Click on any of the pictures to see a much larger version.

Bill, before and now. I completely forgot he was such a little fuzzball! If you recall, Bill’s the one who sat around all the time with his eyes squinted mostly shut. Terry’s eyes were worse, but Bill seemed to be in more discomfort, thus the squinting. Now, Bill has his eyes open most of the time (except when I try to use the flash around him!), and we can see that he’s cross-eyed. Just adds to his charm, if you ask me! You can see how before, he had a jagged eyeline, which is why at first I thought his lids had been ripped at some point. He’s such a handsome boy.

Hoyt, before and now. Before, Hoyt’s right eye was bothering him the most – now, it’s not bothering him at all. It’s still (if you look closely) a bit smaller than the other eye, and occasionally he squints the right eye a little, but ointment or eye drops fixes that pretty quickly.

Sam, before and now. You can see pretty clearly the missing parts of Sam’s upper eyelids, before – especially his right eye. Now, he’s got a lovely, smooth eyeline. The other cats have big round eyes now, but Sam’s got more of an exotic slant to his. Such a gorgeous boy!

Lafayette, before and now. I’m sorry the “before” picture isn’t the greatest – I lightened it the best I can. If you look at it in the larger size, you can see how it looked like there were chunks of eyelid missing from both sides. Now, he’s got that same lovely, smooth eyeline. He opens his eyes more now, too – and he’s actually not as cross-eyed as he was when he was wee. Still a bit cross-eyed, but like Bill, it just adds to his charm. I love his serious little face!

On the table: Hoyt. On the chair: Lafayette, Terry and Sookie.

I swear, that blanket had been laying on the table for PERHAPS ten minutes before Hoyt sensed its presence, and jumped up there to fall asleep on it.

Smilin’ Hoyt.

From my comments:

I thought hissing and spitting were the same? Can you enlighten me? Thanks!

Boy, you’ve kind of got me stumped! The only way I can think of to describe the difference is that hissing is a longer sound, like a long exhalation, whereas spitting is a short sound and sounds like the kitten or cat is actually spitting something at you.

Anyone got a better way to describe it? I know the difference, it’s just hard to explain it!

Robyn…will this be the hardest group to leave at the adoption centre of all the groups you’ve had? What with all their issues and surgeries they are just the cuddliest, funniest bunch!

Maybe. All the groups are always very hard to leave, because I always fall completely head over heels in love with them and can’t imagine having to give them up. There’s always a point where I say “I cannot do this. I can’t take them there and leave them. I’M KEEPING THEM ALL!”

(I’m kind of going through that right now.)

What helps is that I stay in the cat room with them until they seem comfortable, and I wait until they’re distracted by toys before I tiptoe out of the room. And they’re ALWAYS distracted by toys and sniffing the cages, and checking out the food. I almost always hide at the end of the aisle and watch them to make sure they’re okay, and so far not a one of them has suddenly looked up and said “Hey. Where’d that lady go? WHY WOULD SHE ABANDON US LIKE THIS?!”

You’d think this would get easier, but so far (4 1/2 years, close to 100 fosters), it hasn’t.

And now off I go to get the boys settled in their temporary homes, because I am CERTAIN that someone’s going to come along and fall in love with every one of them TONIGHT.

(Fingers crossed!)

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“Ha ha HAAAAA! Those little kittens are going, and I shall be the king of the house once again!”

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Previously
2008: O lord, what is a wimpy hater of wasps to do?
2007: No entry.
2006: It’s like when you’re in the car and you smell something, so you turn down the radio and sniff harder.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: “That’s because it fucking HURTS!” I yelled.
2002: TV talk.
2001: Is it just Fred and I that immediately think “Chrissie-anthemums”, or did y’all see that episode of Three’s Company as well?
2000: The Spider Dance.

10/15/09 – Thursday

Oh, the PMS fairy has arrived in full force, that bitch. It’s not until the Day o’ Rage arrives that the two preceding days of boohooing given the slightest provocation (sad commercials, sweet kittens, stain on my shirt) make sense. And I’ve probably mentioned this before, but knowing the reason for the Day o’ Rage … Continue reading “10/15/09 – Thursday”

Oh, the PMS fairy has arrived in full force, that bitch. It’s not until the Day o’ Rage arrives that the two preceding days of boohooing given the slightest provocation (sad commercials, sweet kittens, stain on my shirt) make sense. And I’ve probably mentioned this before, but knowing the reason for the Day o’ Rage does not lessen the Rage in the slightest.

I was okay until after I got back from the vet and doing laundry and found that the laundry I’d put in the dryer two days ago was still wet. Because I hadn’t started the dryer. Which meant stinky clothes in the dryer. Which meant I had to rewash them. Which meant a temper tantrum.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

And then I took the tomatoes which had been sitting out thawing for the last day, and I was going to run them through the food mill, then put them on the stove to simmer all day, so I could can them today. When I put the third tomato in the food mill and it popped like a zit, spraying tomato juice all over the fucking place, I decided I’D HAD ENOUGH OF THE GODDAMNED TOMATOES. Which meant a temper tantrum.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

I stomped out to the chicken yards and tossed all the tomatoes to the chickens, who looked at the tomatoes like “What is THIS shit you’re trying to foist off on us” like the ungrateful motherfuckers they are, and I believe I probably yelled “GO FUCK YOURSELVES, YOU FUCKING ASSWIPES EAT THEM OR STARVE I DON’T CARE!” at them.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

Then I came inside and spent – I fucking shit you not – half an hour trying to get a decent image of the book I’m currently reading, so I could FTP it up to my site and link to it in the sidebar. (Yes, I’m aware that Goodreads has a widget for just such an occasion. I don’t like the look of it, and I can’t figure out how to edit it to make it look the way I want.) I finally found a decent one, and FTP’d it up annnnnnd… it wasn’t there. FTP’d it up again. Not there.

FTP’d it up.

Not there.

FTP’d it up.

Not there.

Cue the bellowing. The GODDAMNing. The MOTHERFUCKing. The WHATTHEFUCK??ing.

The rebooting.

STILL NOT WORKING.

Cue the tantrum.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

Tantrum completed, I uploaded the image to another place completely, where it uploaded successfully, linked to it in the sidebar, and since I’d blown that half hour I’d INTENDED to spend vacuuming the house fucking around with images and FTPing, I got up to go out to the chicken yards. I go out around 12:30 every day to toss out scratch for chickens, check on babies, give the dogs a treat, and gather eggs.

As I stood up, I glanced out into the back yard and noticed that Sugarbutt was sitting, watching something near the back steps VERY intently. I thought I could hear the sound of a bird being tortured, and then Kara ran across the back yard. I ran to the back door to prevent any half-dead creatures from entering my house, and saw Lafayette.

That little fucker had figured out the cat door. And he’d gone outside. AND Bill was sniffing at the cat door in a very interested manner.

I shooed Bill away from the door and then opened the door and sputtered at Lafayette, who turned and looked at me, all “HAI!”

“Get in here!” I said sternly, and he did.

“Get away from the door!” I said, and shot a blast of canned air at him. He ran into the kitchen.

I grabbed my basket for egg-gathering and a cup of scratch, and headed out to the chicken yards. I checked on baby chickens and fed the dogs their snacks and gathered eggs, and then trudged back to the house. I was putting the basket of eggs on the shelf unit by the door when I HAPPENED to glance at the door and saw Lafayette casually push his way through the cat door and skip-a-doodle-doo down the steps. Then Bill walked over to the cat door and pushed his head through, all “HOWYADOIN’ OUT THERE, BRO?!”

Why, hello tantrum time.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

I stomped over to the door and shot a blast of compressed air at Bill, who ran into the kitchen. I flung open the door and bellowed “GET IN HERE!” at Lafayette. There might have been a string of obscenities involved.

I know that it will surprise you, but bellowing angrily at a kitten does not so much make the kitten want to run TOWARD you. Lafayette skipped the rest of the way down the steps and began running across the back yard. I turned around and put my boots on, then ran out after him.

He ran across the yard in great big happy leaps, all “I AM FREE FROM THE TYRANNY AND OPPRESSION OF BEING CONFINED TO 2200 SQUARE FEET! I AM FREE! FREE, I SAY! THE WORLD IS MY OYSTER!!!!” I ran after him, swearing all the while (but also kind of laughing because the great big leaps were funny). I finally caught him when he reached the fence and stood there staring at it, thinking “I CAN SEE THROUGH IT, YET I CANNOT WALK THROUGH IT. IT IS A WINDOW?”

I scooped him up and carried him back to the house, telling him the entire way that he was very bad, then shut the back door. Sugarbutt and Tommy were still in the back yard, but they know how to bang on the door in the perfect way to annoy me, so I figured if they wanted in, they’d let me know.

Then I was going to eat lunch, but do you suppose that there was ANYTHING in the house for lunch? OF COURSE NOT, and OF COURSE I hadn’t planned ahead.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

I ended up using one of those sandwich thins, split it open, slapped pizza sauce on it, put a few pepperoni and a sprinkle of cheese on it, then broiled it.

In retrospect: 1. The pepperoni tasted kinda funny; I have no idea how long it had been sitting in there. 2. Not enough protein, which always makes me crash.

Half an hour later – the gas to end all gas.

O GOD WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?

Finally, I gave up and retired to the bedroom, where I crashed for about half an hour with Hoyt snuggled up to me on one side and Bill snuggled up to me on the other.

When I got up, the gas wasn’t gone, but I was in a better mood. I think that the cute fuzziness of Bill and Hoyt combined drove off that goddamn PMS fairy.

She’s not EVEN welcome here, but you KNOW she’ll be back again next month. Bitch.

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First: Sookie went to the vet yesterday because her eyes didn’t seem to be getting better despite the oral antibiotics and the antibiotic ointment. They took her temperature (it was normal) and the vet looked her over and said that she thought that perhaps the antibiotic ointment was irritating her eyes, that I should go to regular “tears” (GenTeal makes a gel eyedrop that works really well) and give it a few days to see how that works. She could need a steroid shot to help the swelling – hopefully by Monday she’ll be looking better. She spent most of the day yesterday sleeping on a chair in the dining room, but she also got up and played a few times.

Second: Someone emailed and pointed out that I am horribly lax as far as providing pictures of Sookie lately, which I knew because over the weekend I went through my pictures to send the shelter manager pictures of each of the cats, and couldn’t find a decent shot of Sookie since mid-September. My only excuse is that she’s a quiet cat who tends to go off and sleep in out of the way places, as opposed to her loud, obnoxious, in-your-face brothers, and when I have the camera out I tend to take pictures of the cats around me. I’ll do better in the future, I promise!

Third: Sam, Hoyt, Lafayette, and Bill are going to the adoption center tomorrow morning. I will miss the heck out of them (and I’m sure I’ll be a big, sobbing baby when I have to leave them there), so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that they’re adopted quickly – y’all keep your fingers crossed too, okay?

Terry does his road kill impression. Seriously, I don’t know how that could possibly be comfortable.

Elwood and Hoyt, snuggled up on a dining room chair. See that bit of kitten body over to the middle? That would be Sookie. She likes to make it difficult to get a decent picture of her.

Bill has his way with the blanket.

Lafayette’s in charge of kitten cleanliness this week.

Sookie and Sam on the cat tree in the front room.

Bill gets his daily allowance of cardboard.

“Hey, come back! There’s room for both of us in here!”

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Since four of the True Bloods will be going to the adoption center tomorrow, I’m going to be moving the Wonkas up to the foster kitten room this weekend. I hope they don’t get too freaked out – I suspect that they’ll think it’s pretty neat, with the rug to keep their toes warm, the cat towers to climb on, and all the toys to play with. Not to mention the water fountain to splash around in!

Poor Gus – someone’s always chomping on him. I think they think he’s made of cotton candy.

Have I mentioned I want to squeeze Mike to death?

“What?”

I don’t encourage them climbing up my legs, but it certainly makes me laugh. Maybe when they have cat towers to climb, they won’t feel the need to climb me?

Fightin’ time!

Bath time!

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“Yes, operator? I’d like to make a long-distance call. Operator? OPERATOR? DARN these tabby-foot phones, they’re always dropping the connection!”

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Previously
2008: Sam’s might be the ruination of this nation, but GODDAMN do I love that store.
2007: if you set foot in Crooked Acres, the law is that you admire not only the And3rson kitties, but also the And3rson fosters.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Pretty beach pictures!
2003: I’m afraid Miz Poo’s reign as Queen Shit may be coming to a close.
2002: Elvis sneer, zits, weird wiry hair. What next, I ask you?
2001: Cheater entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: Fascinating, isn’t it?!

10/14/09 – Wednesday

I’m about to run Sookie to Tennessee to see the vet, so for today, I leave you with a video of Terry the Mouth (with a special vocal performance by Hoyt!). What’s great is that you can actually hear his voice changing. I don’t know when the first video was taken (back when he was … Continue reading “10/14/09 – Wednesday”

I’m about to run Sookie to Tennessee to see the vet, so for today, I leave you with a video of Terry the Mouth (with a special vocal performance by Hoyt!).

What’s great is that you can actually hear his voice changing. I don’t know when the first video was taken (back when he was a baby, apparently!), but the most recent (toward the end) was within the last week.

He cracks me up, that boy.

(Pardon the awful camera work, and the bad editing. I am no movie maker, for sure.)

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Previously
2008: He’s not usually pink, for the record.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: “M-O-O-N!” Fred said. “That spells Tom Cullen!”
2004: No entry.
2003: I’m pretty certain “Never going to fucking go hiking with him EVER A-FUCKING-GAIN” crossed my mind at least once.
2002: Hotel room so big/ roomy, spacious, perfect. Butt/ is what it smells like.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: Don’t get your bippies in an uproar, though; we’re not trying to get pregnant.

10/13/09 – Tuesday

Yesterday just flew by. I slept in ’til almost 7 (I tend to sleep in later on the weekends – Saturdays, I get up around 6:20, Sundays around 6:30 – I imagine that if Fred took a week off work and I didn’t have to get up to let the chickens out a little before 7, I’d sleep in ’til 8 every morning. Oh, wouldn’t Fred act like I was sleeping ’til noon if I did THAT. He gets up ridiculously early even when he’s not working, so he thinks everyone should do the same.), then I got up and made a couple of Bacon, Egg & Toast cups (the awesome thing about that recipe is that you can make as few or as many of them as you’d like). I made a batch of Chunky Caramel-Apple Jam (some of which is available for sale), and a batch of Scorchin’ Strawberry-Habanero Jam.

I was sitting in the guest bedroom snuggling with all four of the Wonkas when Fred asked me to come out and look at Sookie’s eyes. They seemed a little goopy and swollen, so I put ointment in her eyes, and we started her on a regimen of antibiotics. For a few hours she acted quiet and sat hunched-up as though she didn’t feel well, but by the end of the day she was playing with her brothers, and snuggling with my boots, which she dearly loves to do because she’s a weirdo. We’ll keep her on the antibiotics, and I’ll be vigilant about putting ointment in her eyes, but I don’t think there’s going to be a problem.

I went back into the guest bedroom and hung out with the Wonkas, and they were bouncing-off-the-walls wild, biting each other and clawing at my feet (what the hell is it about kittens and my feet??), so I left them to it. As I walked out of the room, Fred came down the hallway on his way to find me and ask me to come look at “this.”

“This” was the damn refrigerator. For the last few days, it’s been putting out weird (yet kinda neat) hollow ice cubes. Fred had been getting a drink when he noticed that there was water leaking out from under the refrigerator. We pulled it out (okay, HE pulled it out. I supervised.) and found that the tray underneath the fridge was full of water and had started to (slowly) overflow. I cleaned up the water on the floor, and then cleaned the ten pounds of accumulated dust and cat hair from the floor and walls.

(Actually, considering that it’s been almost exactly two years since we got that fridge, it’s kind of surprising conditions back there weren’t worse.)

We ended up having to empty out the refrigerator and put everything from the kitchen fridge into the laundry room fridge.

“This would be the perfect time to clean out the refrigerator,” Fred said, all perky-like.

“Except that I did that JUST LAST WEEK,” I growled.

We did end up getting rid of a lot of stuff, mostly expired salad dressings and 17 – YES I SAID SEVENTEEN – jelly jars with various and sundry dabs of habanero jams in them. No wonder we never have room for anything in that fridge.

Due to advice from an expert, we left the fridge unplugged overnight, and started it up again this morning.

“What the hell do people who only have one fridge do in this instance?” I asked.

“Well,” Fred said. “If it was [Douchebag we know], he’d call L0we’s and tell them to come get it and bring him a new one, because he always buys the extended warranty. And then he’d sue them for the cost of any food that spoiled.”

I laughed.

“You think I’m kidding!” he said.

“No, I know you’re not!”

Ah, douchebags. What fun would life be if they weren’t there for us to mock?

As a result of emptying out the fridge and freezer in the kitchen, I found some stuff wayyyy back in the freezer that I didn’t know we had. I actually found a pack of three boneless, skinless chicken breasts. I haven’t bought chicken from the store in close to a year, so I’m going to guess that chicken’s pretty old. It still looks good, though, so maybe I’ll make some Crockpot Swiss Chicken. We haven’t had that in a long, long time. Our chickens are really good, but they don’t have large enough breasts so that Fred can debone them and leave me with enough meat to make a meal from.

(That whole last sentence sounds kind of dirty, doesn’t it? Or maybe it’s just me.)

I also found a big back of chicken backs and bones, from which I have been intending to make chicken stock. I’ve never really made chicken stock before, so if someone has a super-simple recipe that they swear by, I’d love to hear it!

For dinner last night we had a pork roast (just rubbed with spices and roasted for 35 minutes per pound at 350ºF), fried green tomatoes, and baked squash. It was truly a Crooked Acres-grown meal, and the best part is that we have enough for at least one more meal, and probably two.

Today, I’m taking a break from making jam, but I plan to use up the rest of the Granny Smith apples we bought on Sunday by making many batches of Caramel-Apple Jam before the weekend gets here.

(I’ll probably save some apples for Apple Crisp. I haven’t made that in at least two years, if not longer.)

Would it be too much to ask for a few days of sunshine? We’re forecast to get rain all week, though we’re expected to have a sunny weekend. I’ll believe that when I see it – those damn weathermen LOVE to promise us sunny days that are juuuuust out of reach.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Have you ever seen a happier cat?

I love it when they snuggle up to sleep – and they ALWAYS snuggle up to sleep!

“I HAZ A COMPLAINT.”

“A COMPLAINT, DO YOU HEAR ME?!” (In the foreground, Bill’s all “Yeah, what’s NEW?”)

Tommy snuggles up with Lafayette and Hoyt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

webbthistle mentioned in yesterday’s comments that the Wonkas’ eyes are changing. They are, indeed. They’re no longer that deep, dark, almost purple, blue. They’ve changed to a really pretty greenish blue, on the way (I’m sure) to shades of green.

I had a long discussion with Veruca last night, and she finally agreed that she’s a big girl now and doesn’t need the bottle. Then she “convinced” the rest of the gang that they don’t need it, either. They’re a little nervous about this no-bottle thing, but I’ll give them formula in bowls in the morning and evening for a few more days, and there’s always crunchy food available in a small dish, so they shouldn’t starve.

I’ve noticed that Gus and Mike are more interested in the crunchy food, and the girls prefer the canned stuff, though Violet will occasionally eat some crunchy stuff, too. Judging by the amount of crunchy food that ends up scattered across the floor, they also enjoy a good swim through the crunchy food.

There doesn’t appear to be any danger of these babies starving to death, in any case.

“How’m I gonna tell Mom that I failed Gym? She’s gonna KILL me!”

Count Verucula.

I love me some Mike.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not only is Miz Poo willingly sleeping next to Elwood – please note that her arm is UNDER him. As if she’s SNUGGLING.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Previously
2008: Like I was having a temper tantrum, so I grabbed his list and took off so he couldn’t check it twice.
2007: No entry.
2006: I sure do wish I was going to see Callie Torres and not some old guy.
2005: Does this mean I’m getting old?
2004: No entry.
2003: Bringing home Mister Boogers.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: All about the cats.
1999: I certainly am bitching a lot today, aren’t I?

10/12/09 – Monday

So, guess who’s had herself an online journal for ten years and two days now?? Hard to believe I started this site back in 1999, and have been writing here five days a week all that time. I think it’s time to shut down. See yas. I KID. I’m going nowhere. Here’s to another ten … Continue reading “10/12/09 – Monday”

So, guess who’s had herself an online journal for ten years and two days now??

Hard to believe I started this site back in 1999, and have been writing here five days a week all that time.

I think it’s time to shut down. See yas.

I KID. I’m going nowhere.

Here’s to another ten years!

(I can only imagine how many cat pictures that’s going to include.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I reformatted my computer this weekend. Well. I think you probably already know that I did nothing of the sort. I backed everything up to an external hard drive, and Fred reformatted my computer. He started it Saturday night before we headed to bed, and by the time I got up Sunday morning, everything was pretty much good to go. I just had to install iTunes, Avast! anti-virus, Open Office, Paint Shop Pro, and Quicken. Then copy everything back over from the external hard drive.

For the record, I have so many pictures that it took over 2 hours to copy them from my hard drive to the external hard drive, and another 2 hours to copy them back.

I really need to look through my pictures and delete some of the less awesome ones.

When we weren’t messing with my computer, we ran up to the flea market in Tennessee and bought a couple of big bags of apples (more Caramel-Apple Jam on the way!), then went to the flea market in Madison and puttered around. We actually bought a lot more stuff at the Madison flea market than in Tennessee – and most of what we bought was books. I went in there telling Fred that I have plenty of books and didn’t need any more, and came out with four paperback.

Could be worse, I suppose.

It was a pretty relaxing weekend, all in all. I wish I had any idea what the hell we did on Saturday…

Oh! Lisa came to visit! She got to snuggle the True Bloods (who were perfectly friendly – I always worry, when we have fosters who most of the time only see us, whether they’ll be friendly to new people) and the Wonkas (who climbed all over her and chewed on her shoe laces), and we talked about cats.

We discussed Bessie, one of The Seven. She’s been at the pet store, unadopted, for a long time now. Fred and I had decided that when the first four True Bloods go to the pet store, I’d bring Bessie home with me to give her some rest and relaxation.

And THEN I got an email from the shelter manager last night letting me know that she’d finally been adopted!

YAY!

Saturday night we watched Forrest Gump. My god, I love that movie. There are so many parts that make me cry – when Jenny prays that god will make her a bird. When Forrest says “Why don’t you love me, Jen-nay?” and “I’m not a smart man… but I know what love is.”, then goes to stand on the porch. When Jenny tells Forrest that he’s a father, and his whole face changes, and he says “Is he smart or is he…” (Agh, I’m tearing up just THINKING about it right now!) When he’s talking to Jenny’s gravestone and he says “He’s so smart, Jenny” and then “I miss you, Jenny…”

There are not a lot of movies I can stand to watch over and over again, but Forrest Gump is one of them. I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever get tired of that movie.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While we were going up into Tennessee yesterday morning, Fred noticed a guy going into the gas station across from the light where we were sitting.

“Hey, that guy only has one leg,” he pointed out.

(Yes, I’m aware that it is SOOOOOOOO politically incorrect to notice that there’s only one leg, everyone is the same and deserves to be treated the same, and cry me a fucking river, okay? We weren’t mocking. We were NOTICING.)

“He needs one of Lieutenant Dan’s magic legs,” I said.

“I was just thinking that.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The True Bloods are just the total rulers of the house lately, it seems. They allow Fred to put them in their room at bedtime (not without some complaints, mind you), but the instant they hear my feet hit the floor in the morning, they’re demanding to be let out. They’ve completely taken over my desk (Miz Poo does not appreciate this development), and they follow me from room to room. If they sense that I’m cleaning out the litter boxes, they come running in to wait for me to finish so that they can then climb into the litter boxes and befoul them anew.

(I’ve learned to scoop, go off to do something for a few minutes, and then go back and scoop again. Spoiled brats, is what they are.)

It’s hard to be too annoyed with them, though. They’re always happy to be snatched up for a snuggle and a kiss, and Hoyt and Terry crack me up with their complaints if they’re disturbed whilst sleeping.

You think Fred would notice if they just stayed here forever? I could shrug and say “I don’t know, there’s just no room at the pet store yet! I know, I know it’s been two years. Weird, huh?”

Speaking of Fred, Saturday morning he was sitting at his desk eating breakfast, and I was sitting at my desk eating breakfast, and then suddenly I heard a muffled scream coming from his direction. It turns out that Lafayette had leapt up and sunk his claws into Fred’s back (through his t-shirt) and then just hung there. And Fred had just taken a bite of his breakfast, so he couldn’t do anything but scream a wordless, muffled scream of pain.

“I would have expected a much higher-pitched scream,” I said to Fred, and then I laughed until I cried.

Hey, I couldn’t help it – something about that scream was HILARIOUS.

Sam, Hoyt and Bill, in the cat bed on my desk.

Smilin’ Hoyt.

Happy Sam.

Happy Hoyt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Wonkas have all gotten the knack of climbing up onto the kitty condo and onto the bed in the guest bedroom. So now I go into the room and lay down on the bed, and they all climb up on the bed and snuggle with me, and it is HEAVEN.

I sure do love those sweet little monkeys.

“I has a TOY and it is MINE.”

“Look, YOU. I want a bottle and I want it NOW, and if I’m still demanding a bottle when I’m six months old, you’d best HOP TO IT, you feel me?”

“Hey. HEY. If she gets a bottle, I get one too, right? RIGHT?”

“I am but a poor wee helpless kitten and I need a bottle to make me strong.”

The girls have learned the skill of climbing up my leg. They generally give up about the time they reach my knee, but I know the time is coming when they’re going to climb up all the way to my face. And then I will be in TROUBLE.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I placed that pile of flour sack towels on top of the canning cabinet in the dining room, it was not my intention to leave the pile there. It was further not my intention for the cats to consider it a cozy place to lay. I’m guessing it doesn’t so much matter what I intended, but rather what the cats prefer. Here, Tommy’s keeping the towels warm for Stinkerbelle (who’s usually the cat laying there).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Robyn, why do you use so goddamn many exclamation points?! It makes my eyes hurt.
2006: “Dude, that’s gross,” I said to Spot, who didn’t care and gave me a nasty look as I picked it up and threw it away.
2005: I hate those stupid tests. I always think I’m going to find out some deep, hidden truth about myself, and then I get “Oh! You should be an artist! You’re the artistic type!” Bah.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: TV talk.
2000: I’m about the laziest chick in the world, I think.
1999: Yeah. I’m a bitch.

10-9-09 – Friday

So, on Wednesday I went into Huntsville, and I drove the extra way to Costco to get a membership there. Over the weekend, Fred and I read this article in the NY Times and basically what we took away from it was that Costco tests trimmings for E. coli before grinding. Publix and Sam’s, my … Continue reading “10-9-09 – Friday”

We don’t eat that much ground beef, but we do eat it from time to time, and I’m thinking I’d rather buy it from a source that actually tests for E. coli rather than one that’s all “Test for it? Why would we do THAT?”

Anyway, the Costco is a pain in the ass distance away, but it’s the only one in the area, so I sucked it up, and I drove the extra distance there and got myself a membership card, and then I took a walk through the store.

Hey, guess what? It’s SAM’S CLUB, only they call it COSTCO. I swear to god, almost everything I saw in Costco, I’ve seen in Sam’s. I picked up and considered buying a pack of heads for my Braun toothbrush, but ended up putting it back. I had hoped that the selection of frozen fruit at Costco would be better – or even different – than the selection at Sam’s. Nope – they have the exact same frozen fruit as Sam’s. What the fuck?

Ah well – I suppose it’s good that if I need some non-tainted ground beef, I know where to get it!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

did you get the turkeys solely for meat, or do they lay eggs as well? If so, what do turkey eggs taste like?

I was under the impression that we were getting them just to eat, but then Fred started talking about breeding them, so fuck if I know. We haven’t had turkey eggs yet, because they’re still too young to lay, and I don’t know if one is supposed to eat turkey eggs or if they taste too turkey-y, but I imagine I’ll find out sooner or later. If I eat a turkey egg, I’ll certainly report back. Also, we don’t actually know yet whether any of our turkeys are female, so there may be no eggs at all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Where do George and Gracie go when it’s raining or it’s really cold outside? I know they have heavy coats that provide a lot of protection but do they seek shelter in the chicken coop or what?

Back when we knew we were going to get them, we bought big-ass Dogloos for them. It was an experience fraught with worry and concern – Pyrs get big, so we wanted to be sure to get Dogloos that they’d fit into. I seem to recall Fred actually getting into a Dogloo at one point, but I’m not sure if that really happened. It might be wishful thinking. George and Gracie would have NONE of those damn Dogloos, wouldn’t even consider going in them. Most of the time, they’d sleep out in the middle of the field, but then it got cold and we started getting all that goddamn rain, and George and Gracie would go under the coop to get out of the weather. I couldn’t stand the thought of those poor wee puppies having to slide under the nasty chicken coop (it’s probably not really nasty – not any nastier than the actual chicken yard, anyway), so Fred built a dog house on the back of the chicken coop. It worked well for about ten seconds, they’d sleep in the (very solid, very warm) dog house, which was piled high with straw. Fred would even go out there and lay down in the dog house with them, and they thought that was SUPER FUN. Then, after about two weeks, that was it. No more going into the dog house. They had no desire to go in there, and they refused to go in there, and that was that.

Now, they go under the coop if they’re hot, or if it’s raining, or they just want to. The coop’s open during the day, and they can go in there to get out of the weather. If it’s supposed to rain, we leave the coop open at night, too, so they can go in and keep dry. Most of the time, they seem to prefer going under the coop, though.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Have you guys named any kittens after the characters from Friends yet? (You’ve had so many now that I can’t keep track!)

We haven’t, but I think that’s probably because most of the names have been used before. I’ll have to double-check that!

I’m suddenly struck with the urge to name a foster Chanandler Bong.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I have always been scared of roosters. Do they chase you a lot? Do they seem to sense fear?

Our roosters aren’t aggressive towards us at all – if they were, they wouldn’t be around for long. There’s no room on Crooked Acres for roosters who think they’re in charge. If they showed the slightest bit of aggression toward either of us or someone who came to visit, they’d be next in line for processing.

I’ve had one or two roosters act like they might be up for chasing me around the chicken yard, but I find that turning and looking at them and saying “What are you doing, fucko?” stops that bullshit right away. And if you don’t run, they can’t chase you. 🙂

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Is Floofy Gus going to be a longhair?

I think so – and won’t he be gorgeous when he’s full-grown with that long hair floofed all over the place?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wonder if next time instead of roasted asshole, you could make asshole nuggets? Or asshole fingers? With Dippin’ sauce! 🙂

Mmm, asshole nuggets. That sounds tasty!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Do you watch Food Network? Do you hate “Cooking for Real” as much as I do? That show is worthless, and I’m sick of the host’s wig. She makes nothing worthwhile, and name-drops every five seconds. EUGH!

I don’t watch Food Network, and in fact I’m not even sure if it’s one of the channels we get. But I’ll tell you what – you certainly do make me want to check out that show!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So you and Fred don’t watch The Amazing Race anymore? I still enjoy it, the only reality series that has kept my interest over the years. I gave up on Survivor a couple seasons ago.

No, we missed the first episode of this season, and then part of the second, and then Fred said “You know? I just don’t really care.” and I said “Me either.” and so we stopped recording the show. I think we might be getting close to reality TV’d out. We haven’t even turned the TV on since… Sunday, I think? We’ve been spending our evenings reading.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I missed the chicks in a jar, but that’s because I was busy trying to figure out what the things are on the top left. Is that dehydrated zucchini chips? And is that mushrooms next to them?

Yeah, to the left are dehydrated zucchini chips, then mushrooms (I buy the big-ass can of mushrooms at Sam’s, then re-can them), and then cinnamon pickles, yellow squash pickles, and some other kind of pickles. I put up a lot of pickles, considering we rarely eat them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ok, so when I saw the line “I like pumpkin in pumpkin pie, and that’s about the only place I like it”, the FIRST thing I thought of was, “I mean, I like cheese….just not on a salad.” And then I laughed and laughed some more…..

I also do not like pumpkin on a salad… or a burger!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You and Fred are coming very close to what we Alaskans call the subsistence lifestyle. You produce your own meat and veggies, now if you could just make your own kitty litter…

If I could make my own kitty litter, I would be thrilled beyond belief. Imagine how much money I’d save!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Any chance of one of those turkeys making it to your table come November 26th?

No, they won’t be big enough by then. We’ll have to think ahead for next year!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The True Bloods accompanied the Wonkas and I to the vet yesterday. They (the True Bloods) were due for their last vaccinations, and since I was headed that way, anyway, what better time?

They did not enjoy the ride. Hoyt, in particular, complained all the way there and all the way back. He has such a distinctive voice, and he always makes me laugh when he starts up.

They got their vaccinations, and when we got home, they crashed for the rest of the day. This morning, they’re back to their wild ways. I love how quickly they recover.

I’m thinking, one more kitten tries to squeeze in that bed, it’ll explode.

Lafayette. This boy cracks me UP. See the sutures sticking out from either side of his mouth? They look like jaunty whiskers (don’t worry, I trim them if I think they’re going to be a problem. The sutures, that is, not his whiskers!)

I show you this picture so you can see the wonkiness of Terry’s paw. Doesn’t it look like a mitten?

I bought a FroliCat BOLT Laser Cat Toy after seeing an ad for it in Cat Fancy magazine. We have a laser toy that I bought at PetSmart a while back, but it just moves the laser around and around in the same circle, and the cats get bored with it fairly quickly. When I saw that the BOLT does the laser in random patterns, I knew I had to give it a try. The kittens LOVE it. Well, all except for Sam. Notice that everyone else is like “Where did it go? WHERE DID IT GO?!” and Sam’s like “Oh, a tasty gray tail for me to chomp on!”

Lafayette’s staring hopefully up at the wall, and Terry’s leaping across the floor.

Sugarbutt says “I don’t know what they’re doing, but I don’t think I approve.” (I love how they’re all lined up, staring up at the wall.)

Playtime’s over, now it’s time to nap. This must have been one of the days when I was in the kitchen all day making jam. I love that Sam and Elwood are curled up together in a box that my canning jars came in, and Jake’s under the canning cabinet (which I use as a pantry), all “This is MY bed. Why do I gotta SHARE?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay, so. The Wonkas were Combo tested at the vet’s yesterday. They came up negative for Feline Leukemia – but positive for FIV.

Since they’re so young and (according to what I’ve read) it’s unusual for an FIV positive mother to pass FIV to her babies, I am confident that when they’re retested in 60 days, they’ll come up negative.

What sucks is that since they’re positive, they have to remain segregated from the other cats. I had hoped that after they hit two pounds and were spayed and neutered, that we could let them out into the rest of the house. That can’t happen, because we can’t take the chance that they’ll get into a spat (or even a play fight) with the other cats and pass along the FIV.

I’m going to stick my head in the sand, here, and believe 100% that they’ll come up negative when they’re retested in December. I won’t even consider any other outcome. They’ll be my own personal Christmas miracles!

So, they’re going to come up negative, I just know it, and in the meantime I get a little more time to love and snuggle with them. What a hardship for me!

“WE IS TRYING TO SLEEP!”

::thlurrrrp::

Who is the smarty pants who figured out how to get up on the bed? Who who who? Why, smarty pants Mike Teevee, of course! He was SO proud of himself! (Do not be fooled by this picture – he looks all long and lanky like a real cat, but in actuality he’s really a round little ball of floof.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“HELLEW. You has a snack for me?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Previously
2008: This is such an appetizing topic, isn’t it? I draw you in with talk of clam chowder and quiche and then hit you with litter box talk.
2007: Further proof, in case you needed it, that I’m a dumbass.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: I’ve SEEN Deliverance, and I have no desire to be forced to squeal like a pig.
2002: Well, duh.
2001: No entry.
2000: We like our fast food, we do.

10/08/09 – Thursday

Sights from around Crooked Acres. Nance and Rick sent me this mini rose bush after I had surgery (plastic surgery, maybe? I don’t remember!), and it has languished in a tiny pot and almost died, and finally I transplanted it into a big pot, and it’s never been happier. “You rang?” “You has food for … Continue reading “10/08/09 – Thursday”

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Nance and Rick sent me this mini rose bush after I had surgery (plastic surgery, maybe? I don’t remember!), and it has languished in a tiny pot and almost died, and finally I transplanted it into a big pot, and it’s never been happier.

“You rang?”

“You has food for me?” (That’s food on his nose.)

These pigs all of a sudden got really, really long.

One of the way-too-many roosters we have.

Another rooster. Doesn’t it look like he’s twirling around and his skirt’s flying up in the air?

Yet another rooster. I can’t help it, the roosters are so pretty! This is Mr. Friendly.

Rooster – this is the one we call the Road Runner ’cause he’s so long-legged and goony looking.

Rooster. We call this one “the new guy” because he was one of a batch of chicks Fred sold back in the spring. He told the guy that if any of the birds turned out to be roosters, we’d take it back. This one turned out to be a rooster, so back he came.

We have a chicken or two.

Another rooster.

The turkeys, on top of the coop.

Sidling along the tree branch that touches the top of the coop…

Trying to get higher. We figure we’re going to go out one night and find them roosting 50 feet up in the tree.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“How YOU doin’?”

Sookie and Terry, snuggling.

I always forget what pretty stripes Terry has, until I see them in pictures.

“You need a snuggle?”

Hoyt has no complaint (but then, he’s sleeping. Give it time!).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The many faces of Augustus Gloop, aspiring film star.

“You tawkin’ to ME?”

Dramatic Kitty is dramatic.

Mister Sweet and Innocent.

“You wouldn’t LIKE me when I’m angry.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Happy George.

(And yes, Mary Jo, I’m sure I can work up a “Day in the Life” entry for them. Give me a few weeks.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Previously
2008: And since there’s not a lot going on around here (except that it’s raining for the first time in forever, yay!), here are some pictures from around Crooked Acres.
2007: Whither Tom-Tom goest, the Stank will follow.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I’m just going to sit here and whine about being cold and thirsty, I suppose. Sounds like a plan!
2003: Just know that it was a little SKEERY.
2002: This is a mighty exciting entry, isn’t it? Could I be any more interesting? Should I do an entry about watching paint dry, or what?
2001: “Farm boy, fetch me some ice! Farm boy, fetch me a diet coke, chop-chop!”
2000: No entry.

10/07/09 – Wednesday

A few weeks ago, I was trying to tell Fred about this little girl with schizophrenia. Her parents, in an attempt to protect her 18 month-old brother, traded in their apartment for two smaller apartments, and her parents will switch off taking care of her. I cannot begin to imagine what it’s like for them. … Continue reading “10/07/09 – Wednesday”

I cannot begin to imagine what it’s like for them.

Anyway, I was telling him about her, and as part of the telling, I said “It’s apparently impossible to overstimulate her, her parents would have to take her out and do as much with her as possible, take her around people. You know how little kids get overstimulated if too much is thrown at them?”

“No,” Fred said, which I suppose is reasonable. He’s never spent much time around little kids – the spud was 8 when we moved down here.

“Yeah, they get overstimulated if they do too much, and… Well, when the spud was little, if we’d have her out too late or do too many things in the course of a day, she’d get overstimulated, and then it’d get to the point where she’d have to burst into tears before she could calm down. It didn’t happen a lot, but when it did, there was nothing you could do to calm her down – the tears would have to come, and then the calming down would begin. But this little girl who’s schizophrenic, there’s no such thing as too much stimulation for her.”

“That’s like me!” Fred said. “Maybe I’m schizophrenic! I always need stimulation!” Fred cannot just sit around and relax, he always has to be occupying his mind one way or the other. Even watching TV, he does Sudoku puzzles at the same time.

“Oh PLEASE,” I scoffed. “The doorbell rings with someone coming to buy eggs, that’s overstimulation for you.”

“And then I have to burst into tears before I can calm down,” he smirked.

“Exactly.”

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A little while ago, Amy emailed me and said she really wanted to send me a box for the fosters. I emailed her back and said, in effect, “Oh, I’m not even going to pretend like I wouldn’t love that!”

And then I completely forgot.

The box arrived yesterday morning, and I looked at it and thought “Huh. Did I order something…?” I opened it, and looked in, and realized it was the box Amy had sent. I wanted to do a pictorial of the kittens “opening” the box and taking out the toys, but I had to run to Walmart first, so I put the box up on the counter.

Half an hour later when I got home, one of the big cats had pushed the box off the counter, and there’d been a free-for-all. I gathered the toys back into the box and called all the kittens into the kitchen so we could do it properly.

“Hey, look! A box! And toys!”

Ten seconds later, the toys are scattered everywhere, and Hoyt’s like “A box! I LOVE BOXES!” Note that Elwood’s right in the middle of everything. He truly believes he’s a True Blood.

Lafayette enjoys a good snootful of catnip. (These knit toys stuffed with catnip are VERY popular, as you can imagine!)

“Also, I love crinkly paper!” See the red ball to the left of the picture? It lights up, and the kittens think it’s very cool.

Elwood’s all “I LOVE TOYS! MINE!”

Chasing the flashing ball around. I don’t know which they like more – the fact that it flashes, or the sound it makes when it rolls along the hardwood floor.

Sam says “Crinkly paper and a feather toy! O joy!!!”

Bill, in a state of fluffy-toy rapture.

I also took several of the smaller toys in for the Wonkas to enjoy, and enjoying them they certainly are. I haven’t gotten a picture of the little ones playing, but trust me – I will!

The True Bloods, the Wonkas, Jake & Elwood and I think you are awesome Amy – thank you!!!

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Tomorrow, the Wonkas are going to the vet for their Combo testing. I’ve never had fosters test positive, and I would really like it if that tradition continued. Y’all send a happy thought or two toward Alabama tomorrow morning, okay?

“I HAZ A COMPLAINT. IT IS MY TURN TO SIT IN YOUR LAP, AND VIOLET IS TAKING UP SPACE AND I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS TURN OF EVENTS.”

“My god, I am trapped in this cage, I will be trapped in this cage forever WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!” (Note the wide-open door RIGHT THERE. Maybe not the brains of the operation, our wee Violet.)

“And now I have litter on my nose. Why, God, WHYYYYY?”

Prince Gus, sitting atop the stuffed Momma kitty.

I really need to get more pictures of Mike. He’s such a pretty boy. This is such a pretty litter. I can barely stop myself from squishing them.

Floofy Gus. I like to twist the hair on top of his fuzzy little head together and tell him he’s a troll doll.

“Lady, you gives me the bottle, and no one gets hurt. Promise!”

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Gracie on the left, George on the right.

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Previously
2008: And he likes the chickens, but I think if a hawk swooped down and snatched one up while he was watching, it would make his YEAR.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: 9. What is your biggest mistake? Immediately believing what I’m told without standing back and thinking about it.
2004: Reader requests.
2003: Why have kids if you aren’t going to make them do the scut work?
2002: You know, I don’t even have the words.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

10/6/09 – Tuesday

Did I mention I’m selling jams and hot sauces? The Chunky Caramel-Apple Jam was popular enough that it sold out pretty quickly, leading me to believe that I need to add it to the supply permanently. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “10/6/09 – Tuesday”

Did I mention I’m selling jams and hot sauces?

The Chunky Caramel-Apple Jam was popular enough that it sold out pretty quickly, leading me to believe that I need to add it to the supply permanently.

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We had leftover Roasted Asshole for dinner last night, and it was as fabulous as the first time.

I love me a good juicy Asshole.

(Go back and read yesterday’s entry if you have no clue what I’m talking about, SKIMMER.)

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Jon Gosselin: not only a douchebag, but unable to run that super-complicated spell check.

“Penelty,” indeed. You’d think, knowing that the media would be all over that sign, he’d have thought about double-checking the spelling (or maybe having someone with half a brain double-check it for him while he was busy being douchey.)

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I read in TV Guide last week that over the summer, the average person watched 32.2 hours of TV per week.

32.2 hours? Are you fucking kidding me? THIRTY-TWO HOURS? That average has got to be thrown off by high school students who don’t have anything to do during the summer but watch TV, right? That can’t possibly people who have JOBS, for god’s sake. I don’t have a job, and I’m almost always two weeks behind in my regular TV-watching (with the exception of Grey’s Anatomy). I’ve been working my way through the second season of Gossip Girl for months now (mostly because I don’t watch it unless I’m traveling). I record every episode of Oprah on the DVR, but tend to delete the majority of them without watching because while some of them look like they could be interesting, I don’t want to take the time to watch them. I’ve given up on Jon & Kate Plus 8, because it got boring when Kate decided to stop showing her figurative ass and act like Happy Kate.

Fred and I generally watch about two hours of TV in the evening (and that’s a very generous number – most of the time it’s more like an hour and a half; Sunday night I whined about being tired, so we stopped watching TV at a little after 8, which gave us about an hour of TV time), we’ve lost interest in Survivor and The Amazing Race. We very rarely watch movies in the afternoon on a Saturday or Sunday IF it’s raining out and we have absolutely nothing else to do. I usually sit on the couch and watch TV for about three hours on Friday (and when I’m watching a Real Housewives show, I flip through magazines and half-watch the show). So I figure I’m getting, at the most, about 17 hours of TV in a week. And let me reiterate: I don’t have a job. I can’t imagine trying to cram 32.2 hours of TV into my week.

So roughly how many hours of TV do you watch per week? Thinking about my days, I could probably watch TV after Fred went to bed, or maybe watch TV in the afternoon instead of reading for an hour or so while warm purring kittens are piled atop me.

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Yesterday morning, I got up and showered and dressed, and then headed downstairs to feed the Wonkas. I was going to get some baby food for the True Bloods, because even though they don’t particularly need it, I still give them some baby food as an early morning treat.

I spoil my fosters, y’know.

When I headed downstairs, one of the True Bloods (I’m pretty sure it was Sam) had his paw sticking out under the door. Elwood was in the hallway, sniffing at Sam’s paw.

I got downstairs, opened the back door to let our cats into the back yard, and started calling for Tom, so I could put his collar on him. When I couldn’t find him in the back part of the house, I decided to check upstairs for him. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Sam came trotting down the stairs.

“Wha?” I said, wondering if somehow he’d been out of the foster room all night without my realizing it. Stranger things have happened.

And then Bill came trotting down the stairs, followed by Hoyt and Terry. I went upstairs and looked, and the door to the foster room was wide open.

I don’t know who or how, but either a True Blood or Elwood (or perhaps both, working as a team) had gotten the door open.

It didn’t happen this morning, so I’m thinking (hoping) it was a one-time thing. We’ll see about that! Maybe we’ve got some little Houdinis on our hands.

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I’m pretty sure that Elwood thinks he’s a True Blood. He can usually be found in the middle of a bunch of them, playing. He is going to miss them in a big way when they’ve gone off to be adopted! (Please note Lafayette over to the side, complaining about something. Doesn’t he look like he’s in great emotional pain?)

Jake’s a fan of the True Bloods, too.

Terry and Sam, in the cat bed on the chair in my bedroom.

A sprawl o’ kittens.

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The Wonkas are doing well – I’ve seen them all eating Babycat crunchy food right from the dish as well as canned food, so I know they won’t starve to death. I should probably wean them off the bottle, but have I mentioned that I spoil my bratty fosters? They’re just so HAPPY when they’re sucking down their bottle, and they always look so hopeful when they see me coming into the room. And now that they’ve figured out that whole latching-on thing, they are so EASY to bottle-feed. I’m going to spoil them just a little while longer. DON’T JUDGE ME.

“Auntie Hyacinths says you HAVE to spoil me and give me the bottle whenever I want it!”

“I would be very sad if you stopped giving me the bottle, and the internets would call Kitty Protective Services on you!”

“I was just checking out my box, and I heard someone say there’s a bottle in the room?!”

“I am a wee starving kitteh, and I want my bah-bah!”

Look at that smug little face!

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Pretty, pretty Gracie. (I know I don’t put up enough pictures of the dogs. Therefore, the rest of this week I’ll include dog pics at the end of the entry! You’re welcome.)

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Previously
2008: Pretty batshit crazy, as it turns out.
2007: No entry.
2006: You all have my full permission to skip the boring stuff to get to the cute kitten stuff.
2005: I forsee a lot of spud-teasing this evening.
2004: Phil Hellmuth is a whiny little bitch.
2003: “And then he told me he likes to have sex with you in the break room every day at 11!” he lied.
2002: No entry.
2001: Recovery.
2000: No one ever said I had a long attention span!

10/5/09 – Monday

Crooked Acres Jams and Hot Sauces are up for sale! Astute observers will note that the price has increased a bit since last January/ February. That’s because if I’m going to continue with this jam-making venture, we need to realize at least a small profit, rather than losing money. I don’t think the price is … Continue reading “10/5/09 – Monday”

Crooked Acres Jams and Hot Sauces are up for sale!

Astute observers will note that the price has increased a bit since last January/ February. That’s because if I’m going to continue with this jam-making venture, we need to realize at least a small profit, rather than losing money. I don’t think the price is ridiculous (considering some of the prices I’ve seen at Etsy and Foodzie) and hope you’ll think it’s worth it, too.

I made one single batch of sugarfree jam with Splenda, and I can’t tell you how it is because I can’t eat the hot stuff, and Fred doesn’t like artificially flavored stuff (he does report that it’s “medium” heat, and the consistency is comparable to the sugarfree jams you can buy in the store). If there’s enough of a demand, obviously I’ll make more. It’s 50 cents more than the sugared stuff, due to the price of Splenda. You know how it goes.

So, there you go. Hot jams and hot sauces, and a bit of the non-hot stuff. Go check it out if you’re interested! They’ll be available ’til I run out of habaneros, whenever that might be. (And for the future, the link is over there in the left sidebar.)

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You guys definitely get the Eagle Eye award. When I posted the picture of my canning cabinet on Friday, I half expected no one would even notice the “canned” baby chicks.

I think it took about ten seconds for the first person to spot them.

And then like a MILLION of you spotted it. I guess that picture wasn’t nearly as subtle as I thought it was.

For the record, in case you missed my response in the comments, no baby chicks were harmed in the making of that picture. Fred brought them in, we put them each in a jar, put the rings on the jars (but NOT the lids), and put them in the cabinet. From the time Fred picked them up in the maternity yard to the time he took them back was about three minutes altogether.

There was even enough time for a bit of a kitten-sniff.

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New Simon’s Cat!

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The one thing I don’t like about this time of year is the proliferation of pumpkin-centered recipes. I like pumpkin in pumpkin pie, and that’s about the only place I like it. Don’t want pumpkin cookies, don’t want pumpkin bread, don’t want pumpkin anything.

A century ago, when I was a teen working at McDonald’s, they used to have pumpkin pies – like their apple pies – this time of year. Now, those things were fantastic. That was back when their pies were fried and not the crappy baked pies they have now. They also occasionally had blueberry pies, at least in Maine.

I also highly miss the cinnamon danish McDonald’s carried. Those little cinnamon things they sell these days aren’t even the slightest bit tempting.

::sigh::

Speaking of food, I finally sucked it up and made my own flour tortillas on Friday using this recipe. I just knew it was going to be a nightmarish experience, but for once I was wrong. They turned out pretty damn good, and we had scrambled eggs wrapped in homemade tortillas for dinner.

Speaking further of food, it seems that every so often, a rooster comes along who earns himself the name “The Asshole.” Whether he’s too rough with the hens, picks on the little chicks, or is just a pain in the ass to deal with, we start referring to him as “The Asshole”, and they’re always quick to be processed. We’ve got no room at Crooked Acres for roosters who are assholes.

The most recent asshole was a Light Brahma rooster. He was proving to be a pain in the ass because he’d hide under the coop when it was getting dark rather than going into the coop like he was supposed to, or he’d stand in the doorway to the coop and act like an asshole so the little chicks would be too scared to go past him.

Last weekend Fred processed him, and told me that we should have roast it. After processing, The Asshole weighed in at just under 4 pounds, and Fred plucked rather than skinned it, so we could roast it and not end up with a dry mess.

Last night, we had roasted Asshole for dinner, and it was fantastic. And we showed our incredible maturity by saying many humorous things along the lines of “This Asshole is fabulous” and “You make a tasty Asshole” and so on.

We are far too amused by ourselves.

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If you don’t regularly check out Love & Hisses on the weekend, you’re missing out.

Saturday, an awesome picture of Gus.

Sunday, pictures that show just how far little Terry’s eyes have come.

Whoops! Veruca yawned so hard her pupils fell out! (I love it when I get pictures of cats looking goofy.)

“I take a nap. You go away with that flashy thing.”

The girls are snuggly, but the boys – good lord, they will snuggle with you forever!

And how can you put down a sleeping kitten? (You can’t!)

Mischievous little monkey.

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One ear folded back is the cool new look for kittens, as modeled by Bill.

Pile o’ kittens (and one long-suffering Miz Poo.)

All six, sprawled across my desk and filing cabinet. They prefer to be in whichever room I’m in. If I’m cooking dinner, they’re in the kitchen. I’m at my computer, they’re on my desk. They lurve me!

Happy Hoyt.

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Poor Miz Poo. She just can’t get away from those pesky kittens!

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: I had NO IDEA Red Lobster was such a den of heathenry.
2006: The rags used on that closet: ONE MEELLION.
2005: And then the last straw came along and broke the fat woman’s back.
2004: Because he’s a skinny bastard.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Day One.
2000: So obviously I don’t know nothing’ ’bout picking out no paint.