Fostering – Page 67

6/26/09 – Friday

Guys, I’m aware that Bloglines isn’t showing my latest entries, but I have no clue on earth how to fix that. I can tell you that Google Reader is showing my entries just fine. I updated to the latest WordPress, thinking that perhaps that was the issue, but Bloglines still doesn’t seem to be working … Continue reading “6/26/09 – Friday”

The only other thing I can think of is that since my template is elderly, perhaps Bloglines doesn’t like the RSS feed… but I don’t know that that makes sense. I’ll try switching to the newer template (the one I used last month and then discarded because I couldn’t figure out how to force it to show my banner at the top) this weekend and testing it. If that’s the issue, then I’ll look for a newer template instead of sticking with this old one. It could take time, though, so be patient!

(Or switch to Google Reader? 🙂 )

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Boy, Michael Jackson – what a shock, huh? I just happened to glance at my updated stuff in Google Reader yesterday afternoon, and saw the dlisted headline.

Farrah Fawcett did not come as a huge shock, she’s been so sick. Ed McMahon did not come as a shock, he’d hit the “He’s lived a good long life” stage of his life. But Michael Jackson? Wasn’t expecting that!

(When I announced to Fred that Michael Jackson had died and he said “No way!” (which was also the reaction of my sister and Liz), I said “I wonder who the third will be?” and he said “Ed McMahon was the first, Michael Jackson was the third!” Oh, right. Forgot about Ed! He lived a good long life.)

I texted the news to my sister and Liz, and as I sent the text – Did you hear that Michael Jackson is dead? – I thought “This sounds like the beginning to a bad joke.” Sure enough, my sister said “I thought at first it was a joke, but wasn’t sure what the punch line was going to be!”

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No way of taking a train instead? Even driving a car across the entire country only takes four or five days. Just thinking here…

I don’t know that it’s possible to take a train from here to Maine – that’d be something worth checking into, for sure! I think I mentioned that if I had to do it again, and if I’d realized when my flight was first delayed that I was going to end up spending the night in the airport, I would have rented a car and driven from DC. Now I’m wondering if there’s a train from DC to Boston (surely there is?) – I could have taken that and then the train from Boston to Portland. Hmm… I’m not going to say I’ll keep those ideas in mind for next time ’cause there ain’t GONNA be a next time. I’m only flying early morning flights from here on out!

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I was stuck at Narita International Airport in Japan for 24 whole hours and on top of my deafness and ASL, I couldn’t find anyone who understood English. Based on my harrowing experience (mostly due to exhaustion and sleep deprivation from flying for 24 hours and no “American” food to be found), better at LaGuardia than Narita!

Oh lord, what a nightmare!!!

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My worst delay was coming home from Las Vegas- two hours on a Sunday night. Our flight didn’t land until after 2am in Edmonton. Did you know that everything except Burger King shuts down at 5 or 6pm in the International Terminal at McCarren? No, I didn’t either. You would think that a place that is as 24/7 as Vegas you could get something other than a Whopper on Sunday evening, but not so much.

This reminds me of years and years ago, when I had to spend the night at the Newark airport (that’s right, I slept in Newark!). It was to my utter amazement that all the stores and restaurants closed down early in the evening. I’d always thought that airports were up and running 24/7, including the stores and restaurants! Who knew?

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But my question is, would it have been faster for you in the end, to have just driven the distance?

and

Next time DRIVE trust me it will be faster. I avoid flying at all costs.

It would have taken me two entire days to drive from here to Maine – I actually did it back in… oh, I don’t remember. 2000, or thereabouts. It wasn’t a bad drive, but it also wasn’t a fun drive, especially by myself! And I’ve driven through Pennsylvania three or four times, and every single time I drove through the state of Pennsylvania, it was to the tune of horrific torrential rains. Pennsylvania doesn’t think I should be driving in their state, obviously.

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You really ought to put out a bulletin before you fly anywhere to see which readers are in the area. Then heck, take them up on the offer of staying with them! A good way to see the USA?

I always say (or at least I’ve said once or twice in the past) that I’d love to drive across the country, stopping regularly to have mini-Bitchypoo conventions! Good way to see the country, good way to meet y’all. 🙂

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I guess only you were allowed to drive and if not if you dared to pull over to switch drivers you’d NEVER get someone to let you back into traffic.

Yeah, I was the only driver on the rental agreement, so I didn’t dare to let anyone else drive – but I also didn’t want to chance getting off the road, switching seats, and then not being able to pull back into traffic. And since I was mostly dry-heaving AND we were moving along at a crawl, I was okay with continuing to drive.

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I know this has been discussed, but I haven’t paid attention because I don’t currently have a cat. Anyway, a friend of mine has a problem with her cat peeing all over the house (yes, it’s a clean litterbox). The vet says it isn’t a physical problem and her solution is to make her an outside cat. My friend would like that to be a last resort (lots of reasons). Any thoughts or helpful hints? Her other friends have told her to have the cat put to sleep.

I would suggest Feliway, but to be honest, I don’t think it really makes a difference. I wish it did, but it just doesn’t seem to, at least in our house.

Would your friend’s vet be open to prescribing kitty Valium for your friend’s cat? Maybe if the pattern of spraying could be broken, it would help stop the spraying.

Another idea (I don’t remember where I read this, and I haven’t tried it myself, so take it with a grain of salt) is to put the litterbox where the cat tends to pee (I know you said it’s peeing all over the house, but perhaps it has a particular favorite spot?), then when the cat starts using the litter box, move it slowly toward the preferred location. I don’t know, though – if your friend has kids, that might not be a feasible solution.

Readers? Suggestions?

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Off topic, but have you had a problem with older cats pooping on the carpet. My older cat Angel has done this 3 times. If you have had this problem, what did you use to clean it up?

Mr. Fancypants (god rest his soul, I assume) expressed his displeasure by pooping on the rug near the litter box. And many things displeased him.

(Just thinking about it REALLY pisses me off. That fucking bastard. He sure was a character, though.)

We’d remove what we could of the waste, dab at the spot with a warm damp cloth, and then we used Resolve Spot & Stain Carpet cleaner. We used Oxi-Clean from time to time, but I really think the Resolve did a better job, and it was what we always reached for first.

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Another off topic, but I thought you might enjoy this story about a chicken surviving a tornado.

Awww, good for Momma hen! They need to name that hen Lucky!

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One morning I woke up with a creepy feeling that I ignored. Finally opened my eyes to see a spider hot-footing it down my arm. I jumped out of bed and issued loud, guttural sounds while doing the panic dance. I looked all through the bed clothes with Robert helping, but nothing. I went to the bathroom and on the way back to bed, looked down to see the spider beat-feeting it up my pajamas leg. Again, loud guttural (what happens to language? why does it go away?) sounds and the panic dance. This time, I ripped the PJs off and Robert corralled the spider in a drinking glass and took it outside. It took him a full day to admit it was a brown recluse.

I hope it has gone back to its reclusive ways. Or I’ll be shooting a spider in my pajamas!

(That last sentence reminds of the Groucho Marx joke, “Yesterday I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don’t know.”)

It is to my utter horror that I went to look at pictures of Brown Recluses, and I’m 99.3% sure I’ve seen those fucking things around here, and further that I think I saw one in the garden yesterday.

Pardon me while I shudder and run around in circles.

The problem is that they’re pretty generic-looking spiders, and I don’t know that I’d really be able to tell them apart from an ordinary garden spider without getting close up and personal. I prefer not to do that, thank you.

I just finished, a couple of days ago, the Lisa Gardner book Say Goodbye. It told me far more about spiders in the south than I ever wanted to know.

If you want some creepy reading, go ahead and Google up “Black widows as pets” (PEOPLE KEEP BLACK WIDOWS AS PETS I SHIT YOU NOT) and if you have a strong stomach, check out “Brown recluse bites.”

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The lack of photos of the gigantic twirly-eyed spider was noted and very much appreciated!!

Only ’cause I didn’t have the camera with me, I assure you. I’ve been pretty lax with the bug pictures this year, haven’t I?

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What was UP with Jacqueline’s lips?! When she had them plumped up during the show they looked ok. Last night her top lip was so puffy I thought it might be hives or something.

I actually didn’t notice her lips, I’ll have to look closer when I watch the second part of the reunion later today!

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The foster kittens are doing well. Phyllis the cranky (it’s really too bad the name “Angela” was taken, because it would have been perfect for her, she’s TOTALLY Angela from The Office!) is still cranky if you pick her up or pet her for too long or look at her the wrong way, but she’s also got snugglebug tendencies. I took a nap yesterday afternoon, and she climbed up on me (I barely felt her laying on me, she’s such a tiny thing!) and napped as well. All three kittens are inordinately interested in sticking their heads in our mouths, I don’t know if they’re trying to figure out what we’ve been eating or just wondering if they could fit in our mouths (I bet Phyllis could come close) or what.

They’re all three such sweet things (Dwight LOVES Fred, climbs up into his lap every evening when we’re watching TV), and so laid-back that I know they’ll get adopted quickly.

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Newt has apparently located the coolest spot in the house. Most days he can be found in this corner of the kitchen, snuggled up behind the mixer.

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Previously
2008: I am fully aware that y’all are going to tell me that the shirt is too big, but what you need to keep in mind is SHUT UP.
2007: I figure it’s the goddamn circle of life and all that.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: I know I did the same lazy-ass, stupid-ass shit, and in retrospect she didn’t beat me nearly enough.
2002: Fred: Hey. You’re married to an old white man.
2001: No entry.
2000: I’m having a klutzy day.

6/25/09 – Thursday

So after Miz Poo drove me nuts all Tuesday night and a good part of Wednesday by howling, whining, and chatting, Fred called the vet to find out that she was likely having a reaction to the medication. One of the side effects of the medication she was on (at least in humans) is that … Continue reading “6/25/09 – Thursday”

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This has been the week of the spider for me. Monday and Tuesday mornings, I went out to weed the tomato rows. Monday, I was about halfway down the first row of tomatoes, and as I pulled a huge handful of weeds out from under a huge tomato plant, a garden spider the size of my hand came sauntering out.

“What up, bitch?” he said, his 73 eyeballs glittering at me.

“I am not scared of you,” I said, keeping a respectful distance. “For I know you are but a helpful garden spider, hanging out under the plants and eating all the bugs that try to eat my tomatoes. I appreciate that. But now I’m going to use this hand hoe to herd you over to the pepper plants while I finish weeding under the tomatoes, and then you can return home. You might have to rebuild your web, if you have one, though. Sorry ’bout that.”

Then I leaned down and waved my hand hoe behind the spider, and he saw it with his 73 glittering eyes, and he moved in the direction of the pepper plants. I took my eye off him for one second, and he immediately zagged left and began skittering up my boot.

I reacted calmly, of course. I mean, it’s only a SPIDER.

The size of my hand.

With 73 glittering eyeballs.

Making a sound of horror, I flailed about, threw my hand hoe at my boot, and danced a getitoffme! GETITOFFME! jig. The spider landed near a pepper plant and rolled his eyeballs at me (which took some time, as you can imagine). I looked around to make sure that no one had seen me, wiped off the gash the hand hoe had left in my shin, and went back to weeding. The spider stayed under his pepper plant for a long time (I kept an eye on him), then disappeared. Maybe he was looking for friendlier pastures.

Tuesday morning I was walking across the yard toward the gate, on my way to the garden, when I glanced over at the cement pad and saw Tommy sitting there, watching something with interest. I went over to see what it was, and saw a beetle, the size of my thumb. It was caught up in a web, and as Tommy and I watched, a jet-black spider came sauntering out from under the metal hanging over the side of the cement pad, and began doing whatever the hell spiders do to their prey.

I waited until I saw the red hourglass shape on its abdomen, but I was pretty certain from the first glimpse that I was looking at a black widow. They are so fucking EVIL looking, those spiders. Once I saw the red hourglass, I kicked at it with my boot. I managed to miss the black widow completely, but I crushed the beetle and put it out of its misery. The black widow ran off and hid for a moment, then came rushing back out to see what the hell was going on.

Whereupon I crushed it with my boot.

Black widows like to hide under things, and I think what we need to do is pull up all the metal around the cement pad so that we don’t get a damn colony of them hiding under there. (Although I actually think that black widows are pretty solitary creatures.)

I’m sure tomorrow morning I’ll wake up and find a brown recluse on my freakin’ pillow or something.

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Regarding the Gosselins (ie, Jon and Kate Plus Eight).

I have to say that I was kind of surprised to find that Jon and Kate Gosselin really are divorcing. I half expected they’d sucker everyone in with their ads about “Jon and Kate have made a decision!”, and then there would be Jon and Kate, all cozy on the interview couch, holding hands and talking about how they’ve started counseling. It’s disappointing that they’re divorcing, because obviously you want people to stay together, and you’d hope that the kids would be enough of an incentive for them to work through their issues.

I think that Kate is very sad about the split up, that she’s still working through it, and that Jon checked out a long time ago. I get the feeling that he’s ready to par-tay, and I expect to see lots of pictures of him partying it up with 21 year-olds.

(Earrings on Jon: Not a good look. Some men can carry it off. He’s not one of them.)

Also, I dearly wish Aunt Jodi and skeevy Uncle Kevin would shut their fucking faces instead of sounding off about every move Jon and Kate make.

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Annnnd regarding the NJ Housewives, Reunion Part 1 (and I’m sorry, how ridiculous is it that they’re splitting the reunions into two parts now? Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to see Part 2 tonight!).

Warning: Possible spoilers within.

I don’t know that that reunion was all that exciting – although it certainly looks like tomorrow night’s is going to involve everyone ganging up on Danielle.

While I understand Teresa’s defense of Joe (that he’s not homophobic and that he’s not “like that”, why some of his best friends are gay!) I know that I grew up saying “That’s gay” and “you’re so gay” and certainly NOT meaning anything homophobic by it. It’s sometimes a knee-jerk reaction on my part to reach for those phrases just because I grew up hearing and saying them for so many years, and you can train yourself to not say things like that, but you can’t stop them from coming to mind.

BUT. I also know BETTER THAN TO SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT WITH THE FREAKIN’ CAMERAS AROUND and in front of complete strangers. I’m glad Teresa apologized for him. Also – bless her heart, that woman has a disconnect between her brain and her mouth. “Cleansiness?” Wha-? Also, Teresa’s not invited over to my house anytime soon because I’m sure the state of my house (can’t remember the last time I cleaned the floors!) would horrify her. She’d probably start itching two inches inside the door.

Danielle looked like she’d rather be scrubbing Teresa’s floors with a toothbrush than be at that reunion. She didn’t have much to say, did she? And is it just me, or is her color odd? Too much fake tan? I wish someone had called her on her “I’ve never had plastic surgery aside from the bubbies!”, because come ON. She’s had at the very least an eye lift if not a face lift. Eyebrows don’t get hiked up that high by Mother Nature.

I like that Dina addressed the fact that her husband has no desire to be on the show. I don’t remember much about what Dina had to say, actually. She certainly is pretty, and I’ll reiterate – she SO looks like a young Lorraine Bracco.

Jacqueline and the crying over the miscarriages – I felt bad for her. You KNOW Bravo was hoping like hell she’d go into labor during the reunion. I’m surprised they didn’t tell her to call them when her water broke so they could do the reunion on the way to the hospital! Was it just me, or did she spend a lot of time NOT looking at Danielle?

Caroline just scares the hell out of me. She is the most intense little spitfire I’ve ever seen. I will never never mess with her family, she would fuck me UP. So sad to hear about her father in law (did you get the impression that Dina didn’t want to talk about that topic? She tried to change the topic a few times.). I’m anxious to see what has her teary-eyed in part 2 of the reunion! I get how tired they all are of hearing the mafia question, but COME ON – maybe the Manzos aren’t mobbed up, but five bucks says Teresa’s husband is!

Okay, that’s all I can think of. I wonder why they wouldn’t disclose where they were having the reunion? It’s not like it was airing live.

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The babies are back from their spaying & neutering/ id chipping/ rabies shots none the worse for wear. Phyllis was a little cranky last night (as the tiniest of the three, I think she feels a little more discomfort from the id chip and the rabies shot – plus let us not forget that her spaying was a more major surgery than the boys’ neutering. They might disagree with that, though.), and Creed spent the evening sleeping on Fred’s lap, but this morning they’re racing around as if nothing ever happened.

They need their second vaccination shots (which will be either today or tomorrow), and then it’s just a matter of waiting their turn ’til space opens up at PetSmart. There’s a flood of kittens right now, so it could be soon, or it could be a few weeks. All depends on where we are in the queue, and how fast adoptions go!

Gone campin’.

Dwight enjoys hanging off the cat tree.

“Daaaaang, woman, you desperately need a pedicure!”

Princess Phyllis.

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Smilin’ Joe.

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Previously
2008: I know, I’m lame. But you’ve gotta have priorities!
2007: Three times in the course of an hour, the same conversation, word-for-word, I swear it.
2006: No entry.
2005: I’d say this country is going to hell, but that handbasket sailed a loooooong time ago.
2004: Yes. Robyn DID recently learn how to do popup windows. Why do you ask?
2003: Do I LOOK like an outside kinda gal?
2002: Which is when I realized that I’d actually dreamed the conversation and hug and kiss.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

6/24/09 – Vacation Recap, Part 3.

For those of you who’ve asked, Fred hasn’t posted an entry in forever and a day because he says he has nothing to write about. When the time comes that he has something to write about, he will. Also, he likes to torture y’all. * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “6/24/09 – Vacation Recap, Part 3.”

For those of you who’ve asked, Fred hasn’t posted an entry in forever and a day because he says he has nothing to write about. When the time comes that he has something to write about, he will.

Also, he likes to torture y’all.

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It’s 3:47 am and I have gotten approximately 2 hours of sleep. Fred took Miz Poo to the vet yesterday and got a bottle of what is, ultimately, Valium for her. She’s been grooming her stomach to the point where she has no hair on it, and she started on her legs. Steroid shots haven’t helped, so we thought that putting her on something to break the behavior would help. Years ago we gave her Elavil for a few weeks, and it stopped her from doing whatever the fuck she was doing at the time.

Fred gave her her first dose of the medicine last night, and she hasn’t shut the fuck up for one fucking moment since.

I don’t mind telling you that I’m ready to burn the goddamn house down.

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Friday

Friday was all about waiting to hear if my oldest nephew and his girlfriend and their baby had arrived (they drove up from Maryland overnight). They arrived safely late morning, and we didn’t want to descend on them and overwhelm them immediately. We prefer to give people a little breathing room before we overwhelm them.

My littlest nephew was staying with my parents ’til Sunday, so it was my idea that we should take him to see Up. I’d heard good things about it all over the internet, and the internet is never wrong (except when it is, obv), so the spud and my mother and I went off to the movie theater a little after noon.

It was a very good movie, very sweet, very poignant, and I highly recommend it. My littlest nephew, who’s 4, seemed to really enjoy it (he’d like one of those collars that translates what a dog is saying, please, and put me down for two!)

(I’m pretty sure that that was the day when my littlest nephew informed me that “‘Please’ is the magic word that you say to make people do what you want them to do”. Dear internet: Please give me one million dollars!)

We headed back to my parents’ house for a little while, and then they headed out to see my nephew and his girlfriend and their baby. The spud and I headed over to hang out with Debbie and Liz at Debbie’s house. We didn’t stay too terribly late, I stopped on the way back to my parents’ house (the spud opted to stay and hang out with Brian for a little while) and checked out Liz’s new apartment. It’s seriously cute, and after hanging out for a little while, I headed back to my parents’, read for a while and then went to sleep.

Saturday

Saturday morning, the spud and I got up early and went yard-saling with Liz. Liz is new to the whole yard-saling thing, and with Debbie’s help she’s pretty much furnished her entire apartment with yard sale finds. A brand-new-looking couch for $15, an overstuffed chair for free, dishes, lamps, all sorts of things. We spent a few hours checking out yard sales. I found a chair that would go GREAT in the foster kitten room – $15! – but obviously there was no way to get it home.

I need to start hitting the yard sales at home, obviously.

I did buy a small pile of baby blankets, because I can either use them in the kitten room or cut them up and use them to clean with, I haven’t decided which yet. Liz had plans to go to Boston with friends, so after a while she bailed, and we picked up Debbie to go to Augusta and have lunch at Olive Garden.

As is always the way when we eat at Olive Garden, we ordered an appetizer, and after the appetizer and salad and breadsticks, we weren’t much interested in our main courses. I got shrimp and chicken carbonara, picked out all the shrimp and most of the chicken, then sent the leftovers home with Debbie in case Brian was interested in eating what was left.

We dropped Debbie off at home and went back to my parents’ house. We hung out in the basement for most of the afternoon, and then went upstairs to impatiently await the arrival of my oldest nephew, his girlfriend, and their wee baby. They showed up, and I waited my turn to hold the baby, and no sooner did I get my hands on that child than he went to sleep.

I seem to have that effect on babies.

They stayed for a few hours, and we all took turns getting barfed upon (I had no idea that baby barf, when comprised of breast milk, is a whole different animal than when it’s comprised of formula. It’s not 1/10th as nasty as baby barf from formula. That right there might have compelled me to breast feed the spud when she was a baby. I’ve probably said it before, but I’ll say it again – if I had it to do over again, I would totally breast feed. Probably.) I got my hands on that baby again, and eventually put him to sleep again.

Just call me the baby whisperer, right? (Or, more likely, very boring to babies!)

Sunday

Brian graduated!

I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to get a picture of him sitting on the bleachers with his co-graduates that at one point after they’d filed in and sat down, I stood on my chair and snapped pictures (the woman sitting behind me was worried the chair would tip over and send me to the floor, and kindly held onto my chair so that wouldn’t happen!). We got to meet and sit with Brian’s adorable girlfriend.

I have to say that that was probably the fastest graduation I’ve ever been to. There were speeches by the top three students, a speech by the advisor, possibly the principal spoke (I don’t remember), and the giving-out of the diplomas, and we were out of there in less than an hour and a half. There were less than 100 students in Brian’s graduating class, but still – amazing!

The spud and I went back to Debbie’s house to change into more comfortable clothes, and then headed over to my brother’s house. We hung out with my nephew/ his girlfriend/ the baby/ my brother/ and my parents for a few hours. I got to hold the baby a few times, but for once (I think; I could be remembering wrong) I didn’t put him to sleep!

I also got to see my brother’s cats, Dulcinea and Gizmo. Apparently it was dinnertime for them, so they came out of hiding to be fed by Mireya.

My brother made dinner for us – the MOST fabulous seafood enchiladas. I got half an enchilada to eat, and before I’d swallowed the first bite, I knew I was going to go back and get that other half! God, it was good. I’m drooling just thinking about it!

We headed home after a bit, and I think the spud and I just hung out at my parents’ for the evening.

Monday

Monday morning came way too early. The spud had started to not feel well on Sunday, and Monday morning we knew she was developing a cold. We left my parents’ house around 7:30, stopped by to pick Debbie up, and headed for Rhode Island. We got there in pretty good time, and went to the mall down the road from the spud’s house (she lives a stone’s throw of the RI/ Mass border). We ate lunch at the Italian restaurant there – a very good lunch indeed – and then did a little shopping at the mall. Debbie had a coupon for Victoria’s Secret (Debbie, for those of you who don’t know her, ALWAYS has a coupon.), so she bought a few things for Danielle at VS. The spud was clearly not feeling well, so after a quick turn around Bath and Body Works, we took her home.

I helped her bring her stuff upstairs to her apartment (which she shares with her father and stepmother), gave her a hug, and headed back to Maine.

I don’t know how long it took us to get back to Maine – it seemed to take forever, but that could be because every friggin’ time we left the interstate to find something to drink or to pee, we couldn’t find a McDonald’s or gas station to save our LIVES and had to drive for miles and miles. I think that if the McDonald’s isn’t located within half a mile of the exit, they shouldn’t be allowed to put a goddamn sign advertising it.

I dropped Debbie off, and got to my parents’ house, to find out that they’d spent a few hours in the middle of the day babysitting for my nephew’s son. They’d originally intended to leave for Maryland Monday evening, but put it off ’til Tuesday morning due to the impending bad weather.

Tuesday

One of the things I’d made a point of mentioning that I wanted to do, was go to LL Bean. My mother mentioned that there was a good restaurant (and some shopping) in Windham, so we decided to spend Tuesday shopping in Windham, eat lunch at Maine Bean, and then head to Freeport.

We only hit a few stores in Windham, but I really liked the gift shop my mother mentioned, Mills & Co. I bought a few things there, but trust me – if I lived in the area, I would have bought a ton of stuff! We had lunch at Maine Bean, as intended, and I decided it was time to have a lobster roll! My mother had the same, and let me tell you – that was one good lobster roll. I also bought a little container of small whoopie pies to take home, too.

We went to Freeport from there, and I think we wandered around LL Bean for a couple of hours. I swear I could spend all day in there and never get bored, it’s so big! I looked at the bags over and over again, and finally decided not to get a purse or a travel bag. I ended up buying some shirts, a couple of hooded sweaters, and looked hard at the SmartWool socks before I decided to wait and either buy them elsewhere or wait until the Christmas season, when I know someone who can get me a discount on them!

They’ve moved the LL Bean outlet store from where it was – across the parking lot from the main store – to a place down the street a ways, so we went there. I only ended up buying a water bottle. I picked up a leather bag and some shirts, but decided I didn’t need them, and put them back.

We were shopped out, and my parents had plans to go out to eat (and I had plans with Liz), so we headed back to their house.

That evening, Liz and I went to Applebee’s for dinner. We’d intended to go to Sea Basket for the best seafood in Maine, but they’re unfortunately closed on Tuesdays, so no Sea Basket for us this time around!

(More about Tuesday, here.)

Wednesday

Shopping with Debbie.

(I did not, by the way, actually buy those “Boogie Wipes”, just snapped a picture of them!)

In the evening, my parents and I met Brian at our favorite Chinese restaurant in Brunswick (China Rose? I think?), and then I hugged Brian goodbye and he left. We headed toward my brother’s house, but stopped at the base on the way. I haven’t been on the Navy base in Brunswick in years and years, and I was amazed at how much it’s changed. They knocked down the barracks! They built new apartments for the enlisted men and women! They built adorable townhouses!

(According to my father, they recently finished a multi-million-dollar hangar. Now the base is in the process of closing. Your tax dollars at work, folks!)

We finished our tour of the base and then headed over to my brother’s house. I’d burned a disc of pictures of the baby – and of Brian’s graduation – for him, and we sat around and talked for an hour or so.

We left as it was starting to get dark. At my parents’ house, I packed my suitcase (which didn’t take much time at all – never does, really), talked to Fred on the phone, and was in bed by 10:00.

Thursday

Got up at 3:30, showered, dressed, finished packing, and we were out the door by 4:01. We got to Portland in no time flat, I checked in, dropped my suitcase off at the screening thingy, and got through Security in no time flat. Plane left on time, landed in Dulles, I got a breakfast sandwich at Five Guys, read some junky magazine goodness, plane left Dulles on time, and at 9:40 I was home.

Now THAT is how you fly from Point A to Point B to Point C!

Once home, I unpacked, got groceries, went to the post office, and scrubbed down the kitchen counters. By the evening, I felt like I’d never been away from home at all.

And now you’re caught up!

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Guess who’s about to go off and be spayed and neutered???

Guess who also refused to pose nicely so I could get a picture of all three of them??

Brats.

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“Whut?”

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: For the record, that’s the sort of thing that gives me a fucking stroke.
2004: Oh, Rayford Steele, you manly stud.
2003: Now, do I look like the kind of gal who enjoys hiking?
2002: Some people have wild sex dreams. I dream that I’m chatting with my husband and kissing him goodbye for the day. Somebody stop me!
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

6/23/09 – Vacation Recap, Part 2

Notes regarding comments from yesterday’s entry: Possibly if I’d had more than 20 minutes or so sleep the night I spent in Dulles, LaGuardia wouldn’t have been such a hellhole to me. As it was, I was ready to throw up my hands, give up, and begin wandering the streets of New York (assuming LaGuardia … Continue reading “6/23/09 – Vacation Recap, Part 2”

Notes regarding comments from yesterday’s entry:

Possibly if I’d had more than 20 minutes or so sleep the night I spent in Dulles, LaGuardia wouldn’t have been such a hellhole to me. As it was, I was ready to throw up my hands, give up, and begin wandering the streets of New York (assuming LaGuardia is actually located in New York. Which I’m not sure it is.).

And yeah, probably if I’d driven, I would have made it to Maine quicker. Actually, if I’d realized when they first started delaying my flight that I was going to end up spending the night in the airport, I would have rented a car and driven to Maine. It’s a 10 – 12 hour drive (or thereabouts) and I would have arrived in Maine before my flight left Dulles the next morning. At the very least, I could have driven for a few hours, stayed in a hotel, and then driven the rest of the way the next day.

Y’all are awfully sweet for offering your extra rooms and couches. I’ll certainly keep you in mind next time I travel! 🙂

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Thursday.

So after 12 hours of sleep, I woke up feeling mostly refreshed and ready to hit the road. I took my shower, and my mother and I were on our way to Rhode Island by 8:30 or so. We weren’t in a big hurry, because the GPS and Google Maps agreed that the drive would take 3 hours and 15 minutes, and the spud had a doctor appointment in the morning. We stopped in Portland for breakfast at IHOP, and then hit the road for real.

We made it to Rhode Island in pretty good time, and that goddamn GPS got us right to the street the spud lives on, but once we turned on the street, she said “You have reached your destination” all smug-like, and I was all “Um, wha? Here? Where is she?” The GPS just smirked at me and said “Oh, you think it’s so funny to mock me and take exits I don’t tell you to take, then whine about having to PEE when I tell you to turn around? Let’s see how you do on your own, Madame Hilarity!” I had to dig the Google Maps printout out of my purse to see what her exact street address was, and it was about half a mile down the road.

She was waiting for us (I’d called to let her know we were close), and we loaded up the car and then talked about where we were going for lunch. She mentioned that there was a Friendly’s nearby, so off we went.

It was nice to see her – it’s been about six months since she was in Alabama after Christmas – and we ate lunch and chatted and caught up with what’s going on with her and what’s going on in her life (in short, you nosy people: working a lot, going to school, has a boyfriend). We left from Friendly’s around 2 in the afternoon, headed back to Maine.

Things went well, we made a few bathroom stops and the traffic around Boston sucked, and we were getting back a lot slower than we’d gotten there, but when you’re driving around a big-ass city during rush hour, what can you really expect, right?

The problem came not long after we crossed the New Hampshire – Maine border. I started feeling very, very gassy – the high-up gas, not the down-low about-to-be-a-fart gas – and it was very painful. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and usually if I’m going to have food-related gas, it happens within the first hour, sometimes two. By the time the gas got really bad, it had been three hours since I’d eaten.

But things got even more fun.

We were on 295 North, and we had just passed the last Freeport exit, when traffic came to a complete stop. Turns out, FIVE MILES up the road, they were going from two lanes to one, and traffic was severely backed up. There was no exit between Freeport and Brunswick, and there was no way to turn around, so we could only go forward. And forward we went, incredibly, amazingly slowly. Crawwwwwwling.

The gas got worse.

And then, to my horror, I started gagging. And I started barfing. Inching down the road, I was throwing up into my hand while the spud and my mother searched desperately for something I could use to barf into.

“Pull over!” my mother said and “Just pull over, Mom!” the spud said, and I said “NO FUCKING WAY!”

There was no way on earth I was going to pull over to the side of the road, even just for a few minutes, because pulling over to the side of the road and parking meant there would be no forward progress, and all I wanted to do was get the fuck home.

My mother found a pack of tissues in her purse and handed them to me, and I wiped my hand off (up side to having had weight loss surgery: if you’re barfing almost 4 hours after you’ve eaten, there’s nothing at all present in your pouch which you can barf up. I barfed up a handful of foam.) and stuck the tissues in an empty cup.

Twenty minutes later, off I went again.

“I never EVER barf in the car!” I said to my mother during the brief period when I was feeling better. “The only other time I’ve barfed in the car, you were with me! This must be your fault!”

(She wasn’t convinced.)

We finally made it off 295 and were headed down the road that means it’s just ten minutes to my parents’ house when the gas that had been rumbling around in my gut finally made an exit.

“Sorry,” I said, blushing. I rolled down the window on my side of the car, which resulted in the wind rushing into the car from outside, snatching up the noxious odor, which bypassed my mother completely, and slammed it into the spud’s face.

(A story we recounted, and I do not exaggerate here, at least five times over the course of the weekend.)

We finally made it to my parents’ house, and as I pulled into the driveway and parked, the gagging and retching began anew.

I’d intended to take the spud over to see Debbie and Brian, but I felt like such total shit that I begged off. Brian came over to see the spud, and then they went off to hang out for a while, and I went to bed. The gas and the nausea eventually abated, and I went to bed and slept like the dead.

To be continued…

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Look who’s back!

Friday, I went and got them back from the foster mom who was caring for them while I was in Maine. I don’t know if they remembered me or not (I’d guess not, but who knows?), but they were certainly willing to be held and kissed.

I kept them in the foster room overnight, and then Saturday morning we let them out to roam the house. These guys are THE most laid-back kittens we’ve ever had, I swear. When Fred opened the door to let them out, they immediately came out and started exploring. It’s been my experience that kittens, when they’re let out, are at first wary and slink around, looking at everything. Not these guys! These guys were like “Hey! More room to explore!”

The funny thing is that with the entire house to explore, they’ve ended up spending the majority of their time in the computer room with me, sleeping on my desk or by the door. All kittens ALWAYS end up in the computer room! It’s apparently a house rule that our cats are whispering to them when we’re not paying attention.

Favorite thing to do: smack the blinds cord back and forth and back and forth AND back and forth!

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Miz Poo does not approve of this letting-the-kittens-run-free business.

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Previously
2008: Taking a few impromptu days off.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: I’ll try to drum up some drama for tomorrow, m’kay?
2004: (For the record, I do vacuum out there every couple of months…)
2003: A Day in the Life
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I will be hurting bad tomorrow, though.

6/8/09

Attention, those of you who own netbooks and love them – tell me what kind you’ve got and whether they’re super-simple to use. I like my laptop, but I really want something smaller. And since I use it solely to check my email and surf the web, I don’t need anything fancy. So what do … Continue reading “6/8/09”

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You know how it is when you have ten million errands to run, but all you want to do is get home? Friday was like that for me. I left here at a little after 6:30, headed to the pet store to scoop litterboxes, clean cages, and give kittens lots of love.

Bessie was there, but at least she’s not in a cage by herself – she’s now in a cage with two other black kittens, who are around her age. She was happy to see me, happier still to run and play with the other kittens, and when I put her back in her cage with her new siblings, she was happy to eat and flop down for a nap.

I took pictures at the pet store; you can see ’em over here.

From there, I went to Target and shopped for a few things (I’d tell you what, but honest to god, I don’t even remember. I’m sure it was very important.), then left there to go to Sam’s for litter. A LOT of litter. Six 40-pound buckets of litter, to be exact. (Also, toothbrushes and gum.) God bless Sam’s and their 40-pound buckets of litter, is what I say.

Then I drove down University Drive to Garden Cove. Garden Cove is a health food store that I like to visit a few times a year. They have really good produce and I always end up buying some organic animal crackers and other stuff while I’m there. The main point for my visit on Friday was to buy more powdered Slippery Elm bark – I’ve bought it in bulk there before, and it’s very reasonably priced. When I walked in, though, there were no bulk spice bins, and as I wandered through the store, there were empty shelves everywhere. It kind of looked like it was going out of business, and they had no powdered Slippery Elm bark at all. I bought the last bag of animal crackers, and left.

(The powdered Slippery Elm bark was for the foster kittens. You sprinkle it on their food, and it’s supposed to help stop the diarrhea. I’ve been using it on their baby food (they’re also getting Alb0n) and needed to replenish my supply.)

I headed back through Huntsville to Madison, and stopped at the health food store in Madison to see if perhaps they had any powdered Slippery Elm bark. A quick walk through the store told me that even if they did carry it (though I didn’t see it anywhere), it would have been way too expensive for me. That place is EXPENSIVE, but since it’s located in Madison, what did I expect?

From there, I went to have my hair cut. I don’t think I’ve had my hair cut in three or four months. I had canceled my last appointment because Fred and I had to take Spanky to the vet, and then I just kept putting it off. I really like the way my hair chick cuts my hair, but I REALLY hate to have my hair colored. It’s sitting there for so long with the color on my hair that just gets on my nerves and I always dread it. Finally, after months of putting off doing anything about my hair, I came to the brilliant conclusion that I could, indeed, get a cut without having her color my hair.

So I did. And then yesterday, I colored my own hair. And saved about $40 in the process. Go, me!

I left there and went over to Kohl’s to return some jeans and try on more pants. After about an hour of shopping, I ended up buying some jeans and a pair of capris.

From there, I went over to TJ Maxx, browsed for a while, bought nothing.

Went to the bank, cashed a check.

Went to the grocery store, bought groceries.

By the time I got home, it was 12:30. SIX hours after I’d left, and I had a shitload of stuff to haul inside and put away (though I left the buckets of litter for Fred to deal with) and all I wanted to do was eat lunch, spend some time with the kittens, and take a nap. So after I put everything away, I spent some time with the kittens and then? Yes, I took a nap.

Well-deserved, I say.

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Fred has been brushing George and Gracie just about every day. They’re losing their winter coat at an astounding rate, and the fur’s been coming off in fistfuls. There was so much dog hair spread across the back forty that I told him it looked like he’d been slaughtering dogs out there.

He got a brush at the pet store the other day to use in addition to the Furminator, and after he’d brushed George and Gracie with it on Saturday, he came in and proclaimed it the best! brush! ever! (I’m pretty sure it’s this one.) He made me go out to admire how pretty the dogs looked when he was done, and I’ve gotta say – they looked awfully good!

(Which was negated a mere minutes later when they started rolling around in the dirt, of course.)

Gracie found the brush and decided it was hers.

Keeping an eye on the cats. Gracie in the front, George in the back. You can see that he’s huge compared to her (and she’s pretty big to begin with!).

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The pigs are slated to go off to freezer camp in three weeks or so.

“We’re going to CAMP? Oh boy!”

We’re using a new… uh. “Camp counselor,” shall we say, so Saturday morning we drove out to make sure we know where it’s located. We found it easily enough, so then we swung by Lacon Trade Days to see what there was to see. There wasn’t much to see, actually, though it’s probably a miracle that we left without buying any chickens. There were a LOT of chickens there.

Fred bought a $3 pair of gloves, and after one last meandering through the shacks that make up the market, we headed for home. Stopped by Target and PetSmart first – there were groceries I needed to pick up at Target, and then while Fred checked out I embarrassed him by standing off to the side and reading the latest article in US about The Most Evil Woman On Earth, Kate Gosselin (gossip must be slow these days, eh?), and then we finally headed for home, for real.

Fred had just gone out to work in the garden when someone pulled into the driveway and honked his horn. I paid no attention, figuring they wanted to buy eggs, but after Fred had been standing out there talking to a guy for ten minutes, I began to suspect it might be more than that. Sure enough, the guy wanted to buy 10 chickens. Ten! After all these days of having the “Chickens for sale” sign out and no one showing any interest at all, we finally sold some chickens.

Then later that night, he got an email from someone interested in buying another 10 chickens and a rooster. Yesterday, his wife and kids stopped by to see the chickens and leave a check, and next weekend they’ll be picking them up (they’re still building their coop). Twenty chickens sold in the space of two days!

(We sell another 40 or so, and I’ll consider us to be down to a realistic number of chickens for the two of us.)

Later, Lisa – who also volunteers for the shelter I volunteer for – stopped by to see the place and (more importantly, the foster kittens!), and Miz Poo responded by acting like no one had EVER given her love EVER in her life EVER EVER EVER, oh please pet me! Everyone else responded by running for the hills like they were being attacked.

Well, except Joe Bob, who had slipped out of his collar for the millionth time and was hanging out on the side porch – OUTSIDE the fenced back yard, where he is NOT supposed to be – and when I opened the door, he moseyed in like he had every right in the world to be on the side porch.

Damn cat.

Saturday night, we watched He’s Just Not that into You, which I’ve gotta say, I really liked. It probably helps that there was no one in the movie I didn’t like (Fred has a man crush on Bradley Cooper, and who can blame him?) The movie did seem to be a little long, but I’d recommend it.

And on a side note – good god almighty, Ben Affleck has got to have the biggest head in all of Hollywood. I know I mention that just about every time I see him in anything, but it’s true! I have nothing but sympathy for Jennifer Garner, who seems intent on birthing lots of Affleck babies. She’s been lucky so far, but sooner or later one of those babies is going to come out with the Affleck noggin, and things are never going to be the same.

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Brudderly love.

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Sunday morning, I glanced out the window to see Sugarbutt staring intently at something. So I went to investigate.

I don’t know where he came from, but he seemed pretty sure of where he was going. Fred carried him out to the back forty so he wouldn’t have to crawl all the way out there on his own (and probably freak out the dogs along the way). The turtle responded by snapping at him.

That’s gratitude for ya.

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Today, no weeding for me.
2006: Apparently I’m high. And in desperate need of makeup.
2005: By this time the investigator’s eyes had glazed over, and he was clearly thinking “This has WHAT to do with reliability?”
2004: When I was on the pier, the bream darted forward to partake of my delicious thighs, and I stomped across the pier as fast as I could, saying “STOP IT, YOU FUCKERS!” and I stomped up the steps to the top part of the pier, and waited for Fred to take his face out of the water.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: But. It. Was. Too. Far. From. Huntsville.
2000: Oh look, it’s Robyn, bitching. How unusual.

6/5/09

Ever see the movie Snatch? Maybe… is Snatch the movie where you can’t understand a fucking word they’re saying? Because I think we made it about ten minutes before we turned it off. & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & … Continue reading “6/5/09”

Ever see the movie Snatch?

Maybe… is Snatch the movie where you can’t understand a fucking word they’re saying? Because I think we made it about ten minutes before we turned it off.

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There was a man,convicted of many counts of murder,who killed prostitutes and fed some of them to his pigs, here in my province. It happened in a suburb of Vancouver, BC not too long ago. Google Robert “Willy” Picton

AGH.

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Robyn, surely someone has sent you this from CNN.

Our chickens really like donuts, too. But we don’t make ’em cross the road – we deliver!

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Did Beulah and Bessie get adopted yet?

I have been deliberately ignoring this question all week because I knew y’all would have a cow if you knew Beulah was sitting in a cage at the pet store.

Now I can announce that she has, in fact, been adopted – I guess she was adopted on Tuesday. Bessie, however, is still there (in fact, I’ll be seeing her in a little while when I go to clean cages at the pet store!). There seem to be a large number of black cats and kittens available right now, so it could be a little while before she’s adopted, unfortunately.

I can report that I saw both Beulah and Bessie last Friday when I cleaned cages, and they were both perfectly happy to be out and about, and they ran and played and let me snuggle with them.

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The guy in the cat yodeling video who holds the cats looks a LOT like Fred!

It’s that whole geeky engineer thing.

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I don’t know how you wash your bras but you aren’t sticking them in the dryer, are you?

Nope! I wash them in the washing machine on the “hand wash” setting, and then hang them up to dry. I suppose I should be actually washing them by hand if I’m really concerned about making them last, shouldn’t I?

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About your cart-stealing “person:” I’m surprised how people manage to get through life being so clueless. I would not have the nerve to take someone’s stuff out of their cart and throw it somewhere. Could they have, oh, I don’t know, gotten the cart when they first came in the store? It’s too bad you didn’t come out and catch her (him?) in the act. Now THAT would have been a great entry!

Oh, I’ve gone into stores and not gotten a cart when I first walked in, but instead of STEALING SOMEONE ELSE’S CART when I realize I need one, I haul my ass back to the front of the store and get one.

I’m getting steamed about the whole damn thing again – whoever stole my cart is just LUCKY that I didn’t walk out while they were stealing it, because I was so pissed about the whole bra-trying-on thing that I probably would have bitch-slapped them.

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Did you watch the I’m a celebrity get me out of here telehorror last night? We laughed our you know whats off. I think this might be my guilty pleasure this summer along with Wipeout.

I didn’t – I ought to check it out. I hear those annoying kids from The Hills were total whiny-bitch babies.

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i used to have cats all the time as a kid and they had kittens so i use to have cats and kittens, i just moved out to my aunts and she lives in a different provence than my mom and dad. she got her first cat not too long ago, it was a stray that was kind of thrust onto her or something. anywho she got a cat, its a small thing fully grown , and it goes in heat none stop more then a regular cat should , she does not have the money to get it fixed at the moment as she is a single mom with 2 teens and 1 kid . i came to help out but i don’t have the money eather at the moment anyway , the kids let the cat out when she was in heat about 3 weeks ago and i can tell she is prego , this is my aunts and her kids first pet minus the beta that they had that the cat ate on arriving here . and no one is happy about the joys of kittens , is there a way other then bringing her to the vet and waiting out the 64 days, to see if she is prego and how do i get my aunt and cuzs more cuddly to the idea and ready for them if she is.

I don’t know that there’s a way to find out for sure if she’s pregnant or not – I am married, after all, to a man who thought that Maxi was pregnant again, only to find out that he was apparently feeling her liver rather than a kitten’s head – so I’m going to throw this out to the readers. Anyone know?

As far as getting your Aunt and cousins cuddly to the idea and ready for them – well, I’m at a loss there, too. Readers? Help?

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Wow. Are these gardens and animals all at your house? Would you like a 10 year old for the summer? She is a hard worker and it would save me money on camp..she’d have a blast!

I would LOVE to have a 10 year-old helper – however, have you ever seen the way a very hungry kitten is when you try to take away her food? She gets all growly and hissy and smacks at you with her sharp little claws? That’s how Fred is about his farm chores. He does NOT like to share.

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Yes, what is that scary thing on the nest?

That’s a red wasp. Evil-looking, aren’t they?

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I know you guys have a lot of chickens but wow…when you see a bunch of them in the yard like that, that’s a lot of chickens!!

And that’s not even counting the approximately 50 chickens (mostly baby chicks) that are in the maternity yard!

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how the heck do you tell George and Gracie apart? Is one bigger than the other? They sure are purdy, love seeing pics of them on “duty”

George is quite a bit larger than Gracie. And in my opinion, Gracie’s way prettier than George – smarter, too. George is a great big loveable lunkhead – he’s the muscles of the operation, and Gracie’s the brains.

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What ever happened with the Copper Marans?

They’re mingling with the rest of the flock in the Maternity yard right now. Of the 40 eggs we started out with, we have 7. It was a complete balls-up and a waste of money, in my opinion. Fred’s offered them up for sale, but so far we’ve had no takers.

So many people have shown interest in Buff Orpingtons that I’ve tried to convince Fred that we should have a flock of Buffs, instead. Their eggs don’t sell for as much, but they’re a pretty popular breed of chicken.

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Have you ever thought of making Tomato Jam with your tomatoes?

I can’t say that I have – though now that you mention it, I feel like someone might have sent me a recipe for Tomato Jam (maybe it was green tomato jam??). I’ll have to dig through my recipe pile and see if I can’t find it!

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I have a request for you Miz Robyn. I need a little favor and you are just the person with the skills to meet my needs.
I am in need of a private go to rant/mantra that I can recite to myself, silently since I usually need it at work. The rant needs to be foul, aimed at the useless, talentless, asshat mother####### who make my life miserable through their stupidity. I could have used it 3 times this morning before 8 AM. I need your help Obi-Wan. You are my only hope!!!!!

Really, the only suggestion I have is the simplest: Fuck. You can make it short and concise as you mouth it to yourself: Fuck. Or you can drag it out: Fuuuuuuuuuuck. You can make a sentence out of it: Fucking fuck fuck FUCK. Start quiet (in your mind), go loud. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUUUUUCK. I don’t think there are any other words in the English language that are as satisfying.

If someone has said something in particular, you can repeat what they’ve said to yourself, adding “fuck” as many times as possible. “Elaine, have you got the TPS Report? I need it by noon!” can become “I’ve got your fucking T(fucking)P(fucking)S Re-fucking-port right the fuck here, you fucking fuckface and you can go fuck yourself I’ll get it to your stupid fucking face when I fucking get around to it. Fucker. Fuck noon! Fuck yourself!”

Just be careful not to let it gain volume so that you end up saying it out loud.

Then you’d really be fucked!

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Robyn, could you handle taking a Vitamin B (complex) supplement? Vit B makes your blood smell and taste terrible to mosquitoes. I haven’t been bitten by a mosquito in about 20 years. And they used to LOVE me.

Thanks, all y’all, for your mosquito-repelling ideas. I do take a Vitamin B complex, but I’m kind of lackadaisical about it, so maybe I’ll step it up and see if that works. Also, I’m going to give the “Off” clip-on a try, and also the “Bounce” suggestion.

I say throw everything at the problem and see what sticks, eh?

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Also, why not sell your extra tomato sauce, like you did the HabJam?

‘Cause it’s frozen, not canned – and since tomato sauce has to be pressure canned, I can only can four jars at a time. AND making tomato sauce is a pain in the ass. I much prefer to cut up the tomatoes, dehydrate them, and use them for stir-fries, put them in lasagna and chili, stuff like that. Worry not – not one single tomato will go to waste, I’ll make sure of it!

It’s kind of funny, how much I’m looking forward to the tomatoes this year. I used to LOATHE tomatoes when I was a kid. Now I can’t get enough of ’em.

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What you need to know about Phyllis:

Girlfriend has got some LUNGS. And if you don’t do what she wants when she wants you to do it (ie, give her FOOD), she lets you know how displeased she is.

I made the mistake of giving the kittens Gerber chicken and gravy – yes, baby food; it’s like crack for kittens – and now they won’t touch any canned kitten food. I’m trying to fatten up Phyllis, who is TINY (she weighed 1 pound, 3 ounces on Sunday), and she’s not much interested in hard food, and she turns her nose up at canned food, so baby food it is.

Spoiled brat. But I really have no one but myself to blame!

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Previously
2008: I’m surprised the mail lady hasn’t demanded a color-and-consistency report.
2007: Y’all don’t fuck with Sheriff Twitty, now.
2006: Do not, if you’re going to be more than 5 minutes away from home, wear brand-new underwear shopping.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: Fred always says “You blame EVERYTHING on the fact that you’re about to have your period, having your period, or just HAD your period!” Well, duh.
2002: 26 things you may not know about me.
2001: No entry.
2000: Why, oh why, does writing snotty letters amuse me so?

6/4/09

Woohoo! New season of Burn Notice starts tonight! & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & I ended up getting up at 5:07 (what? I looked at the clock when I rolled out of bed. Like … Continue reading “6/4/09”

Woohoo! New season of Burn Notice starts tonight!

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I ended up getting up at 5:07 (what? I looked at the clock when I rolled out of bed. Like you don’t?) yesterday morning because the kittens heard Fred moving around downstairs and started howling for some love. So I got up, gave ’em some love, and then wandered aimlessly around the house. I finally got around to straightening up my room – I’ve been piling stuff on top of the dresser for ages now. When I was done clearing off the top of my dresser, I went ahead and started going through the clothes in my dresser, pulling out some stuff to stick in the closet ’til it’s cold again, and digging shorts out of the container they’re stored in, in the closet.

I swear, this state – one week it’s, like, 50 degrees out and I’m bitching about how cold I am, and the next week it’s 97 degrees (it was NINETY-SEVEN DEGREES on Monday!) The clothes I wore two weeks ago are too damn hot to wear now. Not that I’m complaining (much), I’d rather be hot than cold, I’m just saying I could use a more gradual lead-in from the 50s to the 90s.

I rearranged the closet, and then tried on some jeans I’d stuck on a shelf to see if I liked them any more than I had. I decided to bring two pairs of jeans out of retirement, and leave the third pair on the shelf. Maybe some day I’ll love them – more likely, in 15 years I’ll say “Why am I holding on to these?!” and donate them somewhere.

Then I rearranged the other closet, which is filled with shipping supplies – boxes, bubble wrap, styrofoam peanuts, stuff like that. Hey, I have to be prepared for when the Habaneros come in and I can resume making Habanero jam!

(I will most likely wait ’til the Fall to actually start making jam, actually. In case you were wondering.)

When I was done, I looked at the windows, thought about getting out the supplies to clean them, and decided I’d done quite enough of that nonsense for the day.

I had to run out to the shelter to get supplies for the kittens, so on the way I dropped off stuff at the recycling center, then ran by the post office to check for mail since I hadn’t done so in a couple of weeks. The person who previously had that PO Box was apparently a mother, because she (I suppose it could be a man, for that matter – they’re addressed to Micheal, so I don’t know how that’s pronounced. Like Michael, or like Michelle, or some third option I’m not thinking of?) receives three or four parenting magazines and Entrepreneur magazine every month. I’d forward them to him or her, but I have no forwarding address (and I made a mental note of his/ her name, but do you think, all these hours later, I can remember what the surname was? Swear to god, if I don’t write shit down, it’s lost forever in the recesses of my brain.).

What would y’all do if you were receiving someone else’s magazines, magazines that could not be less interesting to you?

(In the interest of full disclosure, if they were Rolling Stone or US or People or something along those lines, I’d likely bring them home and read them. Since they’re Parenting and Parents and Entrepreneur, I toss them in the recycling container.)

I s’pose I could start with remembering his/ her last name next time I get one and see if I can’t locate their physical address, but I’m not holding out a lot of hope that that’ll get me anywhere.

Nothing in the PO box was for me – WOE! – and I headed for the shelter. I got there in record time, checked out the kittens (there’s a little girl kitten who is a dead ringer for Dwight, complete with an astounding amount of energy), chatted with the shelter manager for a little while, got my supplies, and then came home.

We actually had a little rain late in the afternoon (Weatherman Fred announced that that makes two days in June when we had rain), but not a lot, and the garden kind of needed it.

But alas, it made the garden wet enough that it wouldn’t really make sense for me to go out there and weed. And I think that when I report to you that I counted 23 mosquito bites on the backs of my thighs from when I weeded on Sunday and Monday, you can imagine how heartbroken I am not to go out there and weed again this morning.

Speaking of mosquitos – tell me about your favorite mosquito repellent, whether it be homemade or something you buy in the stores. What works amazingly well for you? Because these bites are driving me NUTS and I’d like to prevent any more from happening, thank you.

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Such a pretty boy.

“Pipe down, Phyllis, this one is mine!”

LOVE his crooked little whiskers.

Dwight jumped over to the window sill and Creed does NOT approve.

I call this one “Princess Monkeybutt with Eye Boogers.”

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Sugarbutt was laying on the bed when Miz Poo came up and lay down right next to him. On PURPOSE. I was afraid to look directly at them because I’ve never seen such a thing.

(Sugarbutt’s collar is for the electric fence in the back yard – it keeps him from wandering. Miz Poo’s collar is to prevent her from overgrooming.)

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Previously
2008: I KNOW it’s just nature and instinct and all that, but it still PISSES ME OFF.
2007: That whole separating-laundry stuff is a line of bullshit perpetrated upon the American woman in an attempt to KEEP HER DOWN.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Styrofoam peanuts = pure evil.
2003: It’s got to be the hormones in the air, that’s all I can guess.
2002: No entry.
2001: We call them the Naysayers.
2000: No entry.

6/3/09

Reader Jennifer has a cat-related question. I don’t have any advice for her, but I thought y’all might have some suggestions. I’m a long time reader of your blog and I am hoping that you could post this so that I could get some advice from yourself and some of your cat loving readers. I … Continue reading “6/3/09”

Reader Jennifer has a cat-related question. I don’t have any advice for her, but I thought y’all might have some suggestions.

I’m a long time reader of your blog and I am hoping that you could post this so that I could get some advice from yourself and some of your cat loving readers. I have a 14 year old male fixed cat named Tigger. He’s been healthy all of his life until about the last year or so when he started having bowel movements outside the litter box. At first it was only once in awhile and I thought it was because he was constipated, they were very hard and dry. I started giving him canned and dry food and that seemed to solve the problem. I also had taken him to the vet who gave him a physical, there was nothing wrong with him. Also I tried the Feliway infuser, I don’t think it made any difference. Then it started up again last fall, again it was only once in awhile so I wasn’t too upset about it. Then shortly after Xmas it started to be everyday and then I saw him urinating outside of the litter box. I took him to a different vet who did bloodwork and a physical and again nothing wrong with him. She gave me some suggestions about litter box retraining, I will make a long story short and say that I have done everything she suggested and it has not seemed to work. I don’t want to go back to her because she is pushing me to buy their brand of expensive vet food which I cannot afford. At this point we have him confined to a small area with a baby gate across the doorway, it is our main floor bathroom and laundry area. His food is in the bathroom and litter box in the hallway. He will use the litter boxes when he is confined but not when he is free to roam the house. I don’t want him to live like this, it is hardly fair to him to be confined to such a small area but I can’t let him out to eliminate outside of his litter box. We have a 9 month old baby girl who just started crawling and I can’t take the chance that she is going to get into cat waste. I suppose having the baby is what is causing his stress and that is why he is eliminating outside of the box. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to put him down because of this. I’m hoping someone will have some suggestions for me. We are short on $$, I’m on maternity leave and my husband was off work for a few months. I can’t afford a lot of expensive vet bills. Any suggestions would be really appreciated. I’m afraid if we can’t solve his problem we are just going to have to leave him confined to the area he is in or put him down and no one wants that.

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When I read Elayne‘s comment from yesterday, I snickered and then I giggled and then I snorted.

I had a dream last night about you. You were doing a sort of video-entry (what’s the name for those?) where you had mounted a camera to your shoulder so it was as if we were peering over your shoulder as you went about your daily tasks. You were cleaning in the kitchen and then you said how much you love having a septic system because it makes laundry so easy – you just drop the towels right down the sink (and here you.. just dropped the towels right down the sink) and the septic tank gets them nice and clean. Then you went into the bathroom to clean in there, and you said that for sinks with small drains, such as in the bathrooms, it was easier to flush whatever dirty clothes you had down the toilet, and you demonstrated this with a pair of socks and a pair of jeans.

You said that the septic tank had a sort of grid over the top of it, and the clothes got caught up on the grid, and the water and chemicals would wash over them from subsequent flushes/sink-drainings/etc. Then all you had to do was go out once a day, hoist the grid up, and let the clothes dry in the sunshine, and it was just the best thing ever. You said the only problem was when it was rainy and you had to haul the wet clothes into the house to dry, and I was yelling at my computer screen, “That’s the ONLY problem? The piss and shit and stuff that rushes over your clothes every time you flush a toilet, THAT doesn’t bother you in any way?!? Have you LOST YOUR MIND?” But it was the internet, you couldn’t hear me.

The worst part is, in the comments, people were saying what a fabulous idea that was and how they couldn’t believe they’d never thought of it, and several people said they were going to re-do their standard “city water” hookup and switch over to a septic tank system so they could do the same thing. Others said they’d also been doing it for years, and I resolved never to leave the house again lest I accidentally brush up against someone who washed their clothes this way.

You owe me several hours of sleep! (c:

Rereading my last sentence in the second paragraph, I’m LOLing:

On the internet, no one can hear you scream.

*snerk*

I don’t know why it made me laugh so much, except that it almost seems plausible that I could come up with something boneheaded like that, and then rave about how much easier it made my life while completely ignoring the down sides of my brilliant new idea.

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Scenes from around Crooked Acres:

Cucumber plants are blooming! Now that we’ve had some dry weather, the garden’s starting to take off. We had our first oven-fried summer squash last night.

Nest-building in the garden shed. Ugh.

Evidence of mice in the garden shed. Nice of them to leave the pecan shells behind, isn’t it? (I wish I could shell a pecan half as well!)

Brandywine. These tomatoes can’t grow fast enough to suit me!

Cherry tomatoes. Can’t wait to have these on a salad!

This Robin was hanging out on the tomato cages; I caught her in mid-flight.

Corn!

I tell Fred that this little chicken (one of the batch we got from the hatchery – we don’t know what kind it is) reminds me of a road runner, it’s so tall and lean.

Check out the stinkeye I’m getting from the chick, second from the left. “We are trying to ROOST here, please leave us ALONE.”

Yes, wee baby chicken, please roost with your butt hanging over the food. I think your brothers and sisters don’t get enough chicken poop in their daily diet.

I don’t remember intentionally hatching a part-Polish egg, but it appears we must have. Check out the mohawk!

Someone’s ALWAYS crowing.

“Heya, Georgie, howyadoin? Mind if I hang out up here for a bit?”

“There appears to be a distinct lack of food up here.”

“Seeya!”

Dry weather and sunshine = dust bath!

Watching Fred on the tractor.

The many faces of George.

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Phyllis: Always smiling.

Creed: Always looking for a cuddle.

Dwight: Always playing like a little wild thing.

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Disapproving of you.

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Previously
2008: I suggest that you expect entries to be incredibly light on content for the foreseeable future.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I need to invest in shirts that are low in the back so I can show off my badass scar.
2003: I’m about to enter the PMS Zone
2002: What I’ve done since Thursday
2001: No entry.
2000: God help me, I’m going to go upstairs and strangle Spanky if he doesn’t stop that infernal fucking howling.

6/2/09 (Tuesday)

In my comments yesterday, Paula K asked: Can you further discuss the pruning of the tomato plants? I’ve been the caretaker of the tomato plants for a couple of years now, but other than weeding and a few shots of Miracle Grow I don’t do much else, but if you advocate pruning then I can … Continue reading “6/2/09 (Tuesday)”

In my comments yesterday, Paula K asked:

Can you further discuss the pruning of the tomato plants? I’ve been the caretaker of the tomato plants for a couple of years now, but other than weeding and a few shots of Miracle Grow I don’t do much else, but if you advocate pruning then I can prune – I’d just like a primer because without one I’d likely hack off something important.

What I did was, I Googled for information on pruning tomato plants, and I read closely and extensively, particularly this page. And then I went out with a pair of sharp scissors, and I wildly hacked willy-nilly at the tomato plants.

I’ve actually never pruned tomato plants before, but the way there were branches laying on the ground last year annoyed me, so I made sure to cut off the lower branches of the tomato plants. And then I went through and I clipped the suckers off the plant (“suckers” basically being – you know how there are branches that go off to the side and directly above the branch there’s a much smaller branch with just a few leaves on it? That’s a sucker. It has no purpose, it just sits there and sucks energy that could better be spent by the plant toward making tasty tomatoes.) Once the lower branches and the suckers were gone, I just kind of looked over the plant, and hacked off any branches that looked like they had no purpose.

I have no clue whether I did a decent job, or if the tomato plants are all going to react to my hacking at them by tipping over and dying. We have two freakin’ rows of tomatoes, though (there are TWO of us, and I don’t intend to make tomato sauce this year, because the tomato sauce I made so carefully last year? Still sitting in the freezer. Apparently we really just don’t use tomato sauce. You’d think I’d have known that.), so if a few of them react poorly, I’m not going to cry too hard.

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And in my comments last Friday, Aimee said:

I was wondering if you knew of a home remedy for urinary tract infections in kitties. One of mine has been to the vet several times for having crystals in his urine – and now he’s on a med that supposed to sooth his bladder lining and make him relax enough to go potty – it worked for awhile and now he’s back to peeing like every 5 minutes – but he’s going, so he’s not blocked. I’m kind of tired of the – let’s go to the vet in case he’s blocked and then he’s not, but they keep him overnight and charge me $600. ::sigh::

I don’t know of a home remedy for feline UTIs, but I suspect that someone out there does. So howzaboutit, y’all, any suggestions for Aimee? Those $600 vet bills are THE SUCK.

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And lastly, in my comments yesterday, Elaine asked:

By the way, what is your opinion about the whole Jon and Kate disaster? I only knew about them from reading your blog. And watching The Soup.

When the stories first hit the news that Jon was hanging out in bars and groping co-eds, I just shrugged and figured we were seeing the tabloids do what they do when things are slow – making up stories where there are none. Then I saw the video of Jon leaving a bar and calling some girl “babe” and I began thinking, well, maybe there’s truth to the rumors. Then I heard the rumors that Kate was having an affair with her bodyguard and I rolled my eyes and stopped thinking about it at all.

This is what I think – are Jon and Kate having affairs? I don’t know. I don’t care. It seems pretty clear from last week’s episode that they’ve both checked out of the marriage.

I think Kate’s a douchebag for giving an interview to People Magazine.

I think Aunt Jodie and Uncle Kevin are douchebags for giving interviews pretty much to anyone who asks. Do they have a right to be concerned about their nieces and nephews? Absolutely. I’d understand it if their interviews were about that alone – but they’re also tossing out little tidbits about Jon and Kate’s marriage, about how the whole happy-family aspect of the show is a sham. For that, I think they’re douchebags (and could someone let Aunt Jodie know that that shade of lipstick is doing her no favors?).

I can see how they got sucked in by the money, because I imagine having that kind of money roll in is nice to see. And I actually don’t think that the kids were too adversely affected by the filming for the first few seasons. I think the kids just saw the film crew as more people around who were paying attention to them. But they’re older now, and they’re more aware of the world around them (“Look! It’s paparazzi!”), other kids are going to tell them what the world is saying about their parents (if they haven’t already), and I think it’s time to end the show.

I don’t know that Jon and Kate will voluntarily stop filming, though. There’s the money, and I think that her protestations to the contrary aside, Kate enjoys the fame. I’m sure she doesn’t like the negative things people are saying about her, but hey – take the bad with the good, right?

In retrospect, and I know my opinion wouldn’t matter to the Gosselins, I think what they should have done is maybe a yearly special the way the McCaughey Septuplets did (are they still doing those? I feel like it’s been a few years.) Of course, that wouldn’t have brought nearly the amount of fame and money the show is bringing them now, and it seems that that’s most important to Jon and Kate right now.

(Of course, that said – I’ll be watching every show they televise because I love the hell out of Leah and Aidan. I mean, I like all the little kids, but those two are my favorites.)

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And then Boo‘s comment cracked us all up!

I satellite shop all the time because people are stupid and wander around in a daze with their carts akimbo so it’s quicker for me to stash my cart and zoom off to get whatever and bring it back. The only trouble I’ve ever had is when I forget where I’ve parked the cart; no one has ever taken it. That said, one day I was shopping at Sam’s Club and doing the satellite thing but when I came back, the cart was gone. I knew I had parked it RIGHT THERE! but no cart. Then I noticed some ‘fucking assfaced motherfucker’ wheeling around with a cart that had my two or three things in it. I stalked her cart steeling butt until she wasn’t looking, then I thieved my cart back! Ha!

When I caught up with my husband, I was all “I’m a rebel! Bitch thought she could thieve my cart but I DON’T THINK SO!… … …Uh…babe? Why do you have a cart with my stuff in it too?” Turns out my husband took the cart without telling me and some poor lady had put exactly the same two items in her cart as I had in mine. Whoops.

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Speaking of the Gosselins, here’s a little tidbit even Fred doesn’t know – Kara (Upstairs Momma) is actually named after Cara Gosselin. When I was trying to come up with a name for her, I thought about Maddy and I thought “Huh. We’ve used the name Maddy, I should use the name Cara now!” Except that Cara had been used in the past by the shelter, so Kara it was.

I actually was going to name Kara’s kittens after various Gosselin kids, but most of them had been used, and then someone suggested names from Firefly, so I went that way instead.

Your bit of trivia for the day!

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Annnnnd speaking of Kara….

Would you believe that this little cutie:

Grew up to be this beauty:

And would you believe this sweet little charmer:

Grew up to be this stunner:

And this little sweetie-pie:

Grew up to be this camera-shy cutie:

That first cat is Kaylee, Kara’s kitten from last year. We referred to her as “the raccoon” because, well, she looked like a little raccoon. The people who adopted her sent a picture to the shelter manager, who forwarded it on to me.

The second cat – Mr. Gorgeous – is Nate (he was “River” back then) and the camera-shy cutie is Dora (“Inara” back then), both of whom Katherine adopted last year.

I showed Kara the pictures so she could see how pretty her babies grew up. She yawned and asked if it was snack time yet.

I know that, inside, she’s deeply proud of them, though!

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(Please ignore the hair. I’m in desperate need of a hair cut.)

Phyllis and Creed love to climb up onto my shoulders. And then they just sit there. Well, Phyllis sits there – Creed usually jumps down after a few minutes and goes to find something to play with (usually Dwight).

But Phyllis just sits there.

And sits there.

Then sometimes I have to put her on the floor to go do something, and Phyllis? She is not pleased. And she gives me the sad eyes.

(So I just pick her up again. Whatever it was I had to do, it can wait!)

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Spanky studiously does NOT look at me when I’m holding the camera. I think he’s hoping I’ll just go away.

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Previously
2008: I assume if I were on the verge of death, someone would have come running in to save me.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: “I like cheese, just not on a salad.”
2003: Now, how motherfucking stupid does the man think I am?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

6/1/09 – Monday

Holy crap, how’d it get to be June already??? New month, new banner! This one was created by the lovely Christine, who was kind enough to give poor Aly a break. Thanks, Christine – you rock! (And of course, anyone who’s feeling creative and wants to make a banner and send it this way, I’m … Continue reading “6/1/09 – Monday”

Holy crap, how’d it get to be June already???

New month, new banner! This one was created by the lovely Christine, who was kind enough to give poor Aly a break.

Thanks, Christine – you rock!

(And of course, anyone who’s feeling creative and wants to make a banner and send it this way, I’m always appreciative!)

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Friday morning, after I was done cleaning cages at the pet store, I stopped by Target to pick up a few things, and then I headed into Madison to visit Kohl’s. I am finding that I really have very little in the way of decent looking clothes to get me through the summer. I don’t have a job, so my daily uniform tends to be along the lines of shorts and oversized t-shirts, but I’d like to have one or two outfits that I can throw on and wear when we’re running errands or whatever, without worrying that I have a big stain down the front of my shirt, or that I look like a slob in my shorts.

Kohl’s has a large selection of clothes, so I thought it might take me a while, but surely I could find something that would work, right?

I dove right in, walking through and picking up pants to try on, and then trying them on. Interestingly enough, I only had to try on about six pairs of capris to come to the conclusion that Dockers brand pants in Curvy fit are the ones that work for me. I didn’t stop there – I probably tried on another ten or so pairs of pants and capris before I narrowed it down to three capris and one dark-blue pair of pants.

And then, I decided to go try on bras. I have lately had an issue with my bras, in that they are FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE and I think the reason they’re so goddamn uncomfortable is because I only wear my bras once before washing them, and such wearing, washing, and drying tends to make a bra break down more quickly than you’d think.

(That’s my thesis, anyway.)

So I decided I’d try on a bunch of bras and see if I couldn’t find one that would work for me. I wandered through the bra section, and I dug through the bras, and would you believe that 36DDD bras are not a common in-stock bra size? Somehow, that still manages to surprise me, I know not why. I managed to find about six bras in varying sizes to try on, and then I went around the corner to the maternity section, and I parked my shopping cart next to the changing room doorway, and I took the bras and my purse into the changing room, and I began the laborious and unhappy task of trying on bras.

None of the bras worked for me – which is about what I expected – and so I got dressed again and grabbed my purse, left the bras on the “dressing room items” rack, and reached for my cart.

And it wasn’t there.

My immediate reaction was that a diligent Kohl’s worker had come along, straightening up the Maternity section, and taken my cart away. Then I looked around and saw that the capris and pants that had been in the cart had been tossed over a nearby rack.

Some fucking assfaced motherfucker could not be bothered to haul her fucking ass to the front of the store (an arduous 30-second hike), saw my cart sitting there, tossed my items on a nearby rack, and hustled off.

I was ENRAGED. If there had been any way on earth I could tell WHICH assfaced motherfucker had taken my cart, I would have stomped over to her and I would have pulled that fucking cart away from her, and I would have given her WHAT FOR.

GODDAMN THAT PISSES ME OFF. I spend ten minutes struggling in and out of bras that DO NOT FIT, I glare at myself in the mirror and feel fatter and flabbier and more hideous by the moment, and then I come out of the dressing room to find that some assfaced motherfucker has STOLEN MY CART.

This is why it’s a good thing I’m not licensed to carry a gun.

(Later, when I said that to Fred, he said “You wouldn’t have done anything. You would have just quietly seethed.” And I said “Apparently you’ve never had to go shopping for bras. You have no idea how close to the surface the rage was. Is.”)

So I grabbed my capris and pants, and I went and checked out and went home, fuming all the way.

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Saturday morning, Fred and I got up and got going early. We headed for Madison to attend the Rummage Sale to benefit the Madison Animal Rescue Foundation. There was a TON of stuff there (and we got there just after it started, and there were a ton of people already there, too!). We ended up getting a bunch of hardcover books, an “as seen on TV” dryer lint removal kit, a basket that will become a cat bed when I get around to making a cushion to go inside it, and… I think that’s it. All for less than $10!

There was a lot of furniture there, including couches and love seats. If we’d had any place to put another couch, I would have wanted to buy one of them, it was in such good shape! I had hoped to see a nice comfy chair that I could put in the kitten room (since anyone who goes in there now has to sit on the floor), but there was nothing. Ah well – that just gives me something to look for in the future when we drive past yard sales, right?

We ran home, got the truck, and went to the dump. Stopped at Tractor Supply and the grocery store on the way home, and then Fred spent the day working outside and I…. do not recall what on earth I did.

I’m sure it was fascinating.

Yesterday morning I got up before 6:00, as I was awakened by the Tom Cullen alarm clock. Most mornings Tommy leaves me alone and lets me sleep, but some mornings he is apparently filled with the spirit and has to come tell me how much he loves me. This takes the form of stomping around on the bed, kneading vigorously on the bed, and eventually kneading vigorously on my arm with his entire body weight behind each and every knead (and Tommy is NOT a small cat), with his claws fully extended.

When I respond to his advances by reaching out to pet him, his immediate reaction is fall over flat on his back with all four legs straight up in the air. Yesterday morning, he looked exactly like a dead and bloated armadillo laying there, and I laughed so hard at the thought that there was no way I was going to be able to get back to sleep.

I got up, got dressed, gave the kittens their morning dose of Slippery Elm Bark (kitten diarrhea is the bane of my existence. They get here, they’re perfectly fine, then four or five days later they start up with the diarrhea. It’s just as fun as it sounds, complete with having to give them baths because they ALWAYS tromp through it. Why? WHY????), gave them some love, and then headed out to do some weeding.

I weeded for an hour and got about a third of the second row of tomatoes weeded before Fred came out to tell me it was 7:30. I pruned a couple of tomato plants, then went inside to shower and get dressed. Lowe’s opens at 8 on Sundays, and Fred likes to get there right when they open. We went to Lowe’s, bought a new cat fence transformer (the one we had wasn’t working right), bought a new grill (the old one was rusted through), and a few gardening supplies for me. We swung by the grocery store to pick up some salad and potatoes, and then came home.

Fred worked outside all day, I puttered around the house, spent time with the kittens, and puttered around some more.

It was a really nice weekend – sunny and warm (got up well into the 80s yesterday!), and things are finally starting to dry out around here. Today’s supposed to be sunny and warm again, so I’m headed out to do some more weeding, and after that perhaps I’ll do some laundry!

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“This fuzzy-ball-on-a-spring toy is mine. Do you hear me, MINE!” (She looks so earnest!)

The thing about Dwight that I love the most (aside from the fact that he’s always bouncing around playing like a wild thing) is that his ears tip forward just slightly at the end. ADORABLE.

Look at the little smile on her face!

Dancing monkey.

“Hey! Get away! It’s MY turn to pick on him!”

Dance, monkey, dance!

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Cat, she’s a kittycat. And she dancedancedance and she dancedancedance.

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Damn gardeners, always laying down on the job.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: It’s just a good thing the air traffic controller didn’t start talking about the plane’s phalanges.
2003: Anatomy of a Smackdown
2002: No entry.
2001: Lovely ‘do, eh?
2000: I don’t want to sound like a nosy know-it-all.