Fostering – Page 72

2/27/09

Four half-pints of fruit-habanero jam left! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I am shaving my head for the 3rd year for St. Baldrick’s Foundation on March 28th. This year it means even more to me as I … Continue reading “2/27/09”

Four half-pints of fruit-habanero jam left!

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I am shaving my head for the 3rd year for St. Baldrick’s Foundation on March 28th. This year it means even more to me as I now know what it is like to receive a diagnosis of cancer since I was diagnosed in September of last year with Renal Cell Cancer.

Even the smallest donations are appreciated. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.

Donate here!

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From reader Nicole, regarding her friend’s daughter:

Holly has applied for the “World’s Best Job” on the Barrier Reef. I’m not sure of the total number of applicants, but I think it’s something like 35,000.

The site is incredibly overloaded, and it takes forever to download her application video, but I hope you will be patient, view it and rate it. The ratings will help to influence the judges, who will select the top 50. They will be chosen 8 days from now, at which time the public will then actually vote to choose the top 10. It’s a bit presumptuous to look that far ahead. For now, enjoy the video, and rate it, if you will, please.

http://www.islandreefjob.com/applicants/watch/boz1mBbEpgk

To view the competition, click on this:

http://www.islandreefjob.com/#/applicants

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Yesterday, after I checked the big chicken coop for eggs I stopped by the little chicken coop to see if Sassy had left an egg in one of the nest boxes.

Turned out, she was hanging out in the nest box, and REALLY pissed off and appalled at my utter gall and NERVE.

For you, a movie starring Sassy McGee, Angry Chicken. I call it “SHUT THE DOOR! I’M LAYING AN EGG! GOD!!!”

Sassy McGee, Angry Chicken from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.

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Robyn, how does it feel to be a thin person now? I once lost 80lbs, and was thin for a couple of years, I really miss how “light” my body was. How has being thin changed things physically for you?

I have to admit, I don’t really think of myself in terms of being “thin.” Most of the time I just kind of go along and don’t think of the fact that I’ve lost, pretty much, an entirely other person. Every once in a while, though, I’ll do something – I’ve started running around in the back forty with the dogs, I start running and yell “Come on, puppies! Come on, puppies!” and they’ll join in the chase – and I’ll think “Huh. I could never have done that before!” And before the surgery, I never went back upstairs during the day unless I absolutely had to – if there was stuff that needed to go upstairs, I’d just pile it at the bottom of the stairs. Now, I’ll just run upstairs and put whatever it is away, or run upstairs and check on the kittens, or whatever, and not really think much about it.

I thought, before I had the surgery, that I’d feel so much lighter after I lost all that weight, and I guess I do, but for the most part I just feel like… me, I guess.

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Did Delmar ever get adopted? I know he got returned once, but is he still at the pet store or did he find a home?

He did! He got adopted a couple of weeks ago, and the same people who adopted Delmar also adopted Lem. I was pretty happy to find that out. Funny thing is that earlier in the day I had been thinking about trying to convince Fred that we should adopt him. Apparently the universe doesn’t think we need any more cats!

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Robyn, I know this gets asked every few months, and if I wasn’t so damned lazy I could do a search for it, but….. what camera do you guys have? It takes incredible shots.

It’s a Sony Alpha DSLR-A100 (I always have to look at the label on the camera, I can never remember what it is!)

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side note about the skin: in my experience with white dogs, and dalmation dogs, sometimes they are more prone to skin irriations. What always worked for us was feeding them carrots. We’d get a big bags of mini-carrots at c0stco and serve those in place of dog biscuits.

I have so much to learn about dogs – I tossed half a head of cabbage to the chickens the other day, and George darted in and grabbed it and took it off to the back of the field and then ate it. It had never occurred to me that they’d eat raw vegetables! But they really, really like carrots. Now, how much of the carrots they actually eat, I’m not sure – I find carrot pieces all over the place after I give them carrots, but they certainly like to chew on them.

Also, those of you who suggested getting Kongs for the dogs? Genius! I fill them with treats (cut up carrots, a homemade cookie or two) and plain yogurt, then freeze them for a few hours, and when I walk through the gate and give the dogs their Kongs, they immediately retreat to their corners and concentrate on those Kongs like there’s nothing else on earth.

Puppies eating carrots.

“I has a Kong! I has a Kong! It’s MY Kong, I has a Kong!”

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This may be a little late but when you watched Zack & Miri did you watch it all the way through the credits? There’s more movie 1/2 through the credits.

No – damnit! I think this means I need to get it from Netflix again so I can see what I missed!

Edited to add: Fred found it for me at YouTube! See it here. (Very much not safe for work!)

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I can find goat cheese at Kroger and Walmart, so I can’t imagine you wouldn’t be able to get it at Publix! Most often it’s labeled as chevre.

I looked in both the cheese sections (the one by the deli and the one near the milk), and never did find goat cheese. That doesn’t mean Publix doesn’t carry it, just that I got overwhelmed by the amount of cheese, couldn’t find goat cheese, and gave up and left. I’ll check again this weekend when I go! Actually, I think we’re going to the feed and seed store

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I love the picture with Fred and the chicken. My first thought was I wonder what that shirt looks like on the back? I’m really commenting because I am buying chicks tomorrow and I wanted to remind you that it is completely and totally All. Your. Fault. (I’m trying to find my camera)

Fred would like you to know that Mr. Friendly does NOT poop whilst being held. Ever. (Yet.)

Baby chicken pictures, please. If y’all are going to blame me for you getting a chicken or a cat or a dog or a pig, y’all are going to have to come through with the pictures. It’s the law – don’t make me sic Sheriff Mama on you!

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Re the slankie, there is actually a spoof of the ad on YouTube that is just hilarious!

I think I must have seen that, because I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a real Slanket/ Snuggie commercial, and the parody has to be how I found out that it’s just a ROBE that you WEAR BACKWARDS.

Because I mock the Slanket, I think we all know that by this time next year, I’ll own sixteen cat-hair-covered Slankets and will wear them 24 hours a day.

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Regarding raw diets, the cat my DH grew up with ate only raw horse liver, which was apparently sold at the pet store many years ago. My MIL chopped it into small pieces and kept it in an old fashioned glass refrigerator container, with the loosely fitted lids.

Anyway, when it was time for “Buttons” to come in she would go to the back door and rattle the lid and he would come running lickity split.

Most of the time, all the cats have to do is hear me getting their snack plates down, and they come running. The only ones who don’t are the ones who are hanging out in the back yard and don’t hear the rattling of the plates.

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ROBYN! Have you seen the show Assy McGee?? (Knowing how you love the name “McGee!” (which by the way, we call our animals, “Dickball McGee, and Shitpie Magillicutty.” They seem to like it and it sure makes us laugh.) ANYWAY, the show is really dumb but MY GOD, it’s hilarious.

I have not yet watched any episodes of Assy McGee, but it’s certainly on my list of stuff to check out!

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Have you seen this article and website? A man in Florida has developed 30 acres just for cats, rescues, strays, and those people can’t keep.

Here’s the article.

And here’s the website.

Oh wow – that is just too neat! He apparently never ever turns any cats away!

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I’d be careful with high-protein diets… especially in male cats. I had for almost 14 years problems with my cat and protein in his diet. He’d start to pee everywhere, get urinary tract infections and it eventually cause liver and kidney damage. He finally passed away about two years ago from severe kidney failure. It’s a balancing act. if you have cats that are healthy and can handle it, then good… if not though, you could upset the balance and then have to try and figure out which cats are sick, which are healthy…. it’s up to you but… i’d just be careful. I know I spent probably $10,000 in bills over the years. Maybe more! Don’t tell my mom… and that’s just for one cat.

I doubt we’ll ever go to a 100% raw food diet just because I sincerely doubt that some of our cats (Miz Poo, in particular) would ever eat anything but the dry food we provide for them. Giving them raw food would probably be more supplemental than a complete replacement for our cats.

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What movie did the Donald Sutherland “skimmer” photo come from?

That’s from Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Fred told me that, I haven’t actually seen it myself!).

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Love the new piggies. The picture of George and Gracie running along the fence surprised me. I thought all they did was lay around in the sun proving gravity.

They have bursts of energy if something excites them – something like the pigs (they don’t bark at them anymore, at least!), or one of their humans approaching with a snack. Also, they like to chase each other around from time to time. I would estimate that they have the occasional ten-minute burst of energy followed by six or seven hours of recovery time wherein they are absolutely dead to the world. Fred and I are fond of saying “Looks like something killed the dogs.”, because when those dogs are out, they’re OUT.

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oh, my! Those are the cutest little things! I soo could not eat them. As a kid, I had a pet pig named Curly. Then all of a sudden he was nowhere to be found. I asked Mom where he was and she asked if I remembered eating the Christmas ham. I was very sad. I loved my Curly.

That is just sad. But funny. But mostly sad. Poor Curly!

We’re lucky that as cute as the pigs are right now, they will grow to be big and obnoxious and demanding, and when it’s time for them to go off to be processed, we’ll be glad to see ’em go.

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I guess this would be a question for Friday but I was wondering how much you save by buying and raising pigs, chickens, etc? I can’t remember if you had a cow. If not, would you consider it? I’m sure you are seeing some savings by raising your own food including vegetables and fruits. But I’m also sure there are some costs involved beside your time. Have you begun to see any savings or is this more of a hobby but the savings in a bonus kind of thing?

Honestly, I think we’re saving money by “growing” our own meat, but I can’t put a dollar figure to it, I just have no idea at all. I haven’t bought anything but beef in almost a year, and it’s nice to have a freezer full of pork and chicken on hand.

We didn’t have a cow. We talked about it, but I don’t think we really have room for a cow anymore, with the pigs and chickens taking up so much of the back forty. The guy who sold us the pigs also raises cows, and he’s willing to sell us a cow that’s ready to be processed – in other words, he’d deliver the cow to the butcher, we’d just have to pick it up. Fred’s considering it (we’d likely split the cow with his business partner, because I don’t think we have freezer space for an entire cow – I’m not sure we actually have freezer space for HALF a cow!).

More important than the money we save by raising our own pigs and chickens is knowing that they’re well-treated until the last possible moment.

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I know you’ve said that you’ll never get geese, but have you ever seen Indian Runner Ducks? Our neighbor has them and they’re hilarious!

No, I had never seen those before (or at least, hadn’t noticed them). They’re awfully cute!

(But I don’t want ducks either. We have no bodies of water for them to swim around in.)

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Have you gotten the house pictures yet? Now that you “know” what the cement pad was for, you think about building an XL pantry out there to store all your creations? I thought of you today when we went to Walmart. Hubby went to get a box of ammo for target shooting and our Walmart was sold out of most everything! Eek I thought, well if we are gonna be attacked, at least Fred and Robyn will be stocked up and could survive.

The house pictures haven’t arrived yet – but the woman who has them said it would be a little while before she could put her hands on them, she has them in storage.

We haven’t even discussed putting a super-sized pantry out there, but I think I’d rather have a deck over that cement pad, instead. (Someday.) If we were going to build a really big pantry, I think I’d rather have it in the house than in another building – maybe one wall of the guest bedroom, or of the dining room. That way, we could better defend our food against the starving masses when the economy REALLY goes into the toilet.

(Or, you know, it’ll be handy when we invite the starving masses in to eat with us, which is probably more likely!)

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Cute little piggies! 🙂 Have you named them yet? If not, might I suggest Martin and Lewis? Tom and Jerry? Sylvester and Tweety?

Thus far, our pigs seem to be generally named “Big Pig” and “Little Pig” because one’s always bigger than the other. This time around we’ll likely go with “Black Pig” and “Striped Pig”, because we are creative geniuses!

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I don’t know much about pigs but – why are they hairy? I’ve never seen hairy pigs here before… not here anyways!

I… don’t know. I guess it’s due to the type of pigs they are? The other pigs we had (Yorkshires) had some hair (bristles), but not nearly as much as these pigs do. These pigs have a Yorkshire mother and I don’t know what their father was. They look like little wild boars to me!

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I do not believe I knew that chickens could sneeze. Sounds obvious, but do all animals sneeze? Hmm….

It took me a long time to figure out that that’s what that noise is – they make the exact sound that you get when you squeeze a squeaky toy. It’s pretty funny!

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Freezer camp!! Snort, guffaw, snort!

and

Freezer Camp is my new favorite term. May I steal it? Is that hen blue? She looks like she is almost indigo (heh, pretty fancy talk). Very beautiful hen. Although I am a native Hoosier and see chickens at farms all the time, I never realized that both male and female had the red on the head. Thanks for teaching this old dog something new.

You may certainly steal Freezer Camp, but in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that I didn’t come up with it – I saw it on LisaNH’s flickr stream at some point in the past, and have used the hell out of it ever since.

The hen’s black, and has kind of an iridescent blue look to her in certain lights (I’d tell you what kind of chicken she is, but I think she’s just a mutt – I’m 99% sure that either we hatched her ourselves in the incubator, or she was hatched by one of the older hens at some point in the last year, rather than being a purebreed bought from the hatchery). Both males and females generally have red combs, but the males’ combs are big and dark-red and showy, and the females’ combs tend to be smaller and less fancy.

That’s your exciting chicken lesson for the day.

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I guess you have 3 piglets. Two outdoor and one indoor/outdoor bed hog. Of course, I have 3 piglets myself. All three of my cats are bed hogs. Unfortunately it’s MY BED! I swear! I deserve more than a sliver of the side of my queen size bed. You think a human (albeit large) and 3 cats should be able to co-exist on one bed. I’ve started taking charge though – they are learning to move or get the ultimate heave ho.

Every night when I lay in bed and read, Mister Boogers drapes himself across my legs, and then when I want to go to sleep and I push him off my legs (I’m a side sleeper), he growls at me like he thinks he is the BOSS OF ME. It drives me NUTS, because apparently the little bastard thinks I should just stay in one position forever and ever until he’s ready to get up and go his own way. GRRR. And he’s the one cat who isn’t scared of the can of compressed air! Every other cat in the house only has to SEE the can and off they go, but Mister Boogers just lays there like “What?”

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Does this mean that Mr. Friendly gets a “stay of execution?”
And I’m curious, what is the life-span of a chicken if it isn’t eaten first?

Mr. Friendly does, indeed, get a stay of execution. As long as he stays as friendly as he is now, I’m willing to keep him around. I’ve tried to TELL the chickens that it’s in their best interest to be friendly (like Frick was) or personable (like Sassy McGee) or too small to eat (like the Featherheads, Rock Star, and Silkies), but they just never listen to me!

According to this page, the average life expectancy for a chicken is 8 years.

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How does the homemade vanilla extract work with using rum and vodka?? Does it have to age so the alcohol content goes away? I am confused.

I believe it has to age so that the flavor of the vanilla bean infuses the alcohol – otherwise you’d just be adding vodka with a touch of rum to your recipes. Vanilla extract – at least the bottle I have in my kitchen cupboard – is 35% alcohol. The only thing that’ll be missing from my homemade vanilla extract (that’s in my commercially made vanilla extract) is corn syrup. (I don’t know why they put corn syrup in vanilla extract…?)

According to this page, Vodka is often mentioned as the ideal liquor for this because its neutral flavor won’t overshadow that of the vanilla.

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Does Jane know you named a chicken after Mr. Friendly?

I totally did not name that chicken after Jane’s ex-husband, I swear it! I was just tired of trying to discuss the chicken with Fred and not having a name for it and “That friendly chicken” or “Our little buddy” wasn’t working for me.

(Although maybe Buddy McGee would have worked. Hmmm…)

But I’ll admit that occasionally I think of Jane when I’m talking about the damn chicken. Obviously I need to just start naming chickens after journalers.

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I liked Cleese’s house tour video on his blog–note the enormous cat tree in front of the window. But why does he apparently keep some of his cats in a large outdoor cage??

That’s an excellent question! I have no idea – it’s certainly a nice big cage with plenty of plants, though, isn’t it?

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When you say Original 12, do you mean THE VERY FIRST chickens you guys started with? How cool!

Yeah, we still have a goodly number of our original 12 chickens – Oscar for one, I think we have most (if not all) of the Buff Orpingtons (the yellow chickens), and probably a Barred Rock or two. Fred knows better than I do which chickens came from where, but I like the fact that there are some original chickens still around. This makes them… (I had to go check my archives. How the hell did I know when stuff happened before I had an online journal, I ask you?) they’ll be two years old in March.

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Your animals are all gorgeous. Have you thought about doing a coffee table-type book to memorialize them and Crooked Acres?

I hadn’t – but Fred’s got a picture of a White-Crested Black Polish (ie, one of the Featherheads) that will be published in a book about chickens that’s coming out next month!

I miss your commentaries on those nutty Housewives (NY and OC). Did you see the OC end of season get together? Wow, now I think they’re ALL evil, except Lori and Lynn. Not sure about Gretchen. As for Lynn, when they call her dumb I think that’s their euphemism for not a heartless bitch like the rest of them.

I did see the OC end of season get-together, and at this point I loathe Tamra so much that it could come out that Gretchen bilked Jeff out of all his money and tossed his kids out on the street, and I’d still like her more than the bitter, evil, bitchy, hypocritical Tamra. GOD.

Also, I laughed out loud when it came out that Jeanna’d been gossiping about Gretchen on the drive to the set. BUSTED!

I don’t even know why they bothered to bring Laurie to the set, it was like “Hi, how ya doin’, how’s Josh, BYE!”

Lynne lives on her own planet.

As far as the NYC ladies – I’m still blind from seeing Simon in his Speedo and he is the creepiest man on this planet. UGH.

(One day, Ramona’s eyes are going to pop right out of her head and go bouncing across the floor!)

Also, Bethenny makes me laugh my ass off with her one-liners! I loved her “Dis-Countess” remark.

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The day before yesterday, it was kind of chilly and rainy out, so I went upstairs and stretched out on my bed and read for a little while. Rumba was in the cat bed at the end of the bed, and every time I spoke to her, she’d purr loudly for a few minutes before quieting back down.

Eventually, Samba jumped up on the bed and nervously settled against my leg as I read.

As generally happens when I lay on the bed and read on chilly, rainy days, I started to get sleepy. I put down the book and rolled over on my side, and I snoozed for ten or fifteen minutes. When I woke up, I found that Samba had crawled up the bed and was curled up against my stomach. And when I began petting her, she rolled around and purred.

This is the first time she’s actually come to me and let me pet her – usually I have to grab her as she’s running by and pick her up, and she just tolerates my petting (and kissing!) her. It was nice to know that deep down in her skittish little heart, she kinda likes the love!

Samba, running around like a wild thing.

More kitten pics over at Love&Hisses.

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That must be some dream he’s having.

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Previously
2008: All that said, I can tell you that, somehow, Paula Deen annoys the fucking shit out of me.
2007: Just call me Betty Homemaker.
2006: I swear to god, I have NO CONTROL over what comes out of my mouth sometimes.
2005: No entry.
2004: Dude, what the fuck? I don’t talk for 20 to 30 minutes on the phone to people I know and LIKE, let alone some strange man from the CDC!
2003: A Day in the Life of Mr. Fancypants.
2002: No entry.
2001: But I kinda like the irritability.
2000: My heart stopped, my jaw dropped, and I whispered “Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiit!”

2/25/09

There are a few jars of fruit-habanero jam left, if you’re interested! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * On Friday I noticed that my vanilla extract was getting low. I remembered recently reading a recipe to make your … Continue reading “2/25/09”

There are a few jars of fruit-habanero jam left, if you’re interested!

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On Friday I noticed that my vanilla extract was getting low. I remembered recently reading a recipe to make your own vanilla extract on Suzanne McMinn’s page, so I sent Fred an email asking him to pick up a small bottle of vodka and one of rum on his way home.

He did – alcohol’s much less expensive than I’d expected! I should totally take up drinking! (not) – and after a trip to the grocery store on Sunday, I made a double batch of vanilla extract in one of the (empty, never-used) hot sauce bottles we had laying around, and put it up in the cupboard, where it will sit and age for a few months before I start using it.

After I’d gotten the vanilla extract (to be) made, I said “We have all this rum and vodka left. We should do shots!”

Then I paused and thought about it for a moment.

“Do people DO vodka and rum in shots?”

He laughed and said “They do sometimes, I think.”

I have so much to learn.

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I’m looking for a good way to organize my recipes. Currently, I print them out on 4×6 recipe cards and keep them in a recipe box, but it’s a pain in the ass to dig through the recipe box to find recipes, and I can’t always fit the entire recipe on one side of the card (or I can, but I have to do it in tiny type, and I have aging eyes). I’m thinking of printing each recipe out on a full-size sheet of paper, then putting each recipe in a sheet protector (well, two in each sheet protector, one on each side), and organizing them in a three-ring binder by recipe type.

Alternately, I could print each recipe out and laminate them, then punch holes and organize them in a three-ring binder, but the laminating sheets are rather more expensive than the sheet protectors, and I’ve never been good at using that self-laminating stuff.

I don’t know. How do y’all organize your recipes?

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This little chicken – who we think is a Barred Rock – is about the friendliest chicken we’ve ever had. He came from the hatchery in our November batch, and he was friendly from the very beginning. These days, if we do something that startles the chickens, they all run away from us, except for this one, who runs toward us. He likes to stand between my feet when I toss out scratch for the chickens. When Fred sits on the bench out in the chicken yard, this little chicken approaches and wants to be picked up.

He – though I’ll admit we don’t know whether he’s male or female – has earned the name “Mr. Friendly.”

We’re actually talking about putting two or three chickens in the back yard because they’re pretty good at pest control and because we like seeing them run around the back yard. Mr. Friendly and the silkies might be turn into our backyard flock.

I don’t know, though – I’m not sure Kara can be trusted around the little chickens. She’s got the look of the killer about her.

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I got Rumba to snuggle with me, and she didn’t even try to pretend that she hated it! Her favorite place to be these days is in my room (when she’s not skulking around the downstairs, that is).

Peekaboo.

More kitten pics over at Love&Hisses.

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Sugarbutt looks just a little too pleased with himself, doesn’t he?

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Previously
2008: “Well,” I said. “You really hit the fuckup trifecta this weekend, didn’t you?”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: “That’s all she had to say! A simple ‘thank you’ would have made Doug as happy as a sissy with a dick in his mouth!”
2004: This DOES NOT STRIKE ME as a government that is staying the FUCK out of my face!
2003: A Day in the Life of Miz Poo.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Ahhh, sweet blessed Friday.

2/23/09

The last of the Crooked Acres jams and hot sauces have been made and are available at Crooked Acres. I used up every last habanero, and now there’s a wee bit of space in my freezer, thank god. When the jams that I have in stock are gone, that’ll be it ’til at least mid-summer, … Continue reading “2/23/09”

The last of the Crooked Acres jams and hot sauces have been made and are available at Crooked Acres. I used up every last habanero, and now there’s a wee bit of space in my freezer, thank god.

When the jams that I have in stock are gone, that’ll be it ’til at least mid-summer, when the habaneros start to come in again (though truth be told, I’m usually busy enough with canning and freezing in mid-summer that I may not get around to making more jams and hot sauces ’til early Fall). Just so you know!

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Saturday morning, I slept in ’til almost 7, then got up and puttered around the house for a bit ’til it was time to head out for a very important date.

I made sure to dress appropriately.

We drove up into Northern Alabama, very close to the Tennessee state line, down a lazy country road, and I wished that we could find about 30 acres of land in the area.

(And then Fred reminded me that we’d probably go stir-crazy out in the middle of nowhere. We consider ourselves to live in the country right now, but it takes us about 10 minutes to get to Wal-Mart, the grocery store, Lowe’s, the co-op. We’re in a very convenient location!)

We thought it was going to take 45 minutes to get to our destination, but it really took more like 30. That was okay with the man we were going to meet, though – he was ready for us.

Fred had told him that we wanted two small pigs, so he’d penned up three smallish ones. I really liked the smallest one because it was little and cute, but Fred said that he thought it’d be best if we got two pigs at least close to the same size, so I said that was okay with me.

The pig man caught the two piglets we’d decided upon, and Fred held the carrier. The piglets did not care for being put into a carrier, for the record.

And then Fred and the pig man stood and talked and talked and talked, so I walked around and snapped some pictures.

I do not like these birds. They are weird-looking and obnoxious.

The pig man told Fred that he didn’t think he could have pigs if it wasn’t for this dog, who is apparently a very good herder. He also told Fred that he accidentally ran over the dog with his truck the other day – both tires went over the dog – and he thought for sure the dog was a goner, but the dog is just fine. He was moving okay as far as I could see!

We got home in no time, took the pigs out to meet George and Gracie, who did not much approve.

“What the -?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

Then we let them go in the pig yard, and they explored and explored and explored. Fred tried to get them to take a cookie out of his hand, but they weren’t much up for that. George and Gracie chased the pigs around (with the pigs in the pig yard and the dogs outside the pig yard), but eventually gave up once they realized they couldn’t actually get to the pigs.

Yesterday, Fred went out and with some coaxing, got the black pig to take a cookie from him. He informed me several times that he’s NEVER gotten a pig to take a cookie from him on only the second day before.

It’s only just begun, little pigs. You have no idea how many cookies are in your future!

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

The latest chicks are two weeks old, and the two born from eggs laid by either the Featherheads or the Rock Star (or some combination thereof) seem to be developing little baby mohawks.

I absolutely cannot wait to see what these babies look like when they’re grown up!

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

As more time goes by, Samba and Rumba spend more and more time venturing forth throughout the house. Rumba’s the more adventurous of the two, but Samba makes it downstairs all the time now, too. I wish they didn’t get nervous and run back upstairs if I run into their general direction, like they think they’re in trouble. I am perfectly fine with having them explore the house!

They know the routine of bedtime, that’s for sure. Every night after we turn the TV off and go upstairs, the kittens run up ahead of me, and then run into the foster room when they see me coming. Sometimes they need to be coaxed into the foster room with the use of the laser light (Samba, especially, loves the laser light!), but most of the time they just run into the room and wait for me to shut the door.

I let them out first thing in the morning, as soon as I get up, and they’re always waiting for me to open the door.

Samba caught sight of herself in the mirror on my closet door the other day:

More kitten pics over at Love&Hisses.

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

Outside Mama, glaring malevolently. She will mess you UP.

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

Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Seriously, I might be a bit lackadaisical in my housekeeping, but I wouldn’t let CAT POO sit around on the floor, let alone let it show up in a picture!
Previously
2006: Second of all, we both hate our voices and to release them forth into the world would be a cruelty beyond measure.
2005: Impromptu day off.
2004: I’m going to save a fortune on tampons, that’s for sure.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Damn that Sam’s.
2000: Heartless bastard.

2/19/09

Couples meme, stolen from Dooce. What are your middle names? Mine is Leslie. His, I’m not sharing because the idea of having his entire name out there creeps me out. (I’m only comfortable sharing my middle name ’cause y’all don’t know my maiden name!) How long have you been together? March 10th will mark 13 … Continue reading “2/19/09”

Couples meme, stolen from Dooce.

What are your middle names? Mine is Leslie. His, I’m not sharing because the idea of having his entire name out there creeps me out. (I’m only comfortable sharing my middle name ’cause y’all don’t know my maiden name!)

How long have you been together? March 10th will mark 13 years since the first time we met online; Memorial Day weekend will mark 13 years since we met in person, and August 13th marks 13 years since we’ve lived together. And last Halloween marked our 10th anniversary!

How long did you know each other before you started dating? We didn’t really date. Why pussyfoot around?

Who asked whom out? No one ever really asked anyone out. Fred asked if we could meet for Memorial Day, does that count?

How old are each of you? We’re both 41; he’ll be 42 in May.

Whose siblings do you see the most? His sister, I’d say – we always see her on Thanksgiving and at Christmas. Although now that I think about it, I didn’t see her at Thanksgiving OR Christmas this year but I did see my sister, so maybe it’s a draw.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? The situation where I’d like to occasionally go away overnight and he’s terrified at the idea of leaving the chicken coop unlocked after dark. Even though we have two DOGS to protect the chickens. I guess you could say he’s a homebody and I’m a free spirit. ::snicker::

Did you go to the same school? Nope.

Are you from the same home town? Nope – he’s from Alabama, I’m from Maine.

Who is smarter? He thinks he is. He’s smarter at knowing how things work; I’m smarter at knowing how people are, most of the time.

Who is the most sensitive? Probably me. I’m a special, sensitive snowflake.

Where do you eat out most as a couple? We don’t really eat out much; when we do, it tends to be at a chain restaurant.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? I guess the trip we took several years ago to Maryland/ Washington, DC.

Who has the craziest exes? He does. Well, just the one whackjob.

Who has the worst temper? I do, but at least when I’m pissed you can tell I’m pissed. And for the most part I get over it pretty quickly.

Who does the cooking? I do, because I love it so.

Who is the neat-freak? Neither of us. I’m more the clean freak than he is, though, and I’m not all THAT clean. A few weeks ago we were going somewhere and we took his car because the gas tank didn’t need to be filled, and when I saw the state of his car, I immediately made him swear that if I die first he’ll hire someone to come in and clean the house twice a month, because the idea of my house looking as bad as the inside of his car made me sad.

Who is more stubborn? Probably me; depends on the situation. If I feel someone’s playing games or attempting to manipulate or bully me, I’d probably set myself on fire before I’d give in to their bullshit.

Who hogs the bed? The cats. (My bed, at least. Cats aren’t allowed in HIS bed because he’s a PRINCESS who sleeps LIGHTLY and cannot have little cat feet tromping all over him at night.)

Who wakes up earlier? He does, by several hours. I know he’s up by at least 5 on the weekends, if not earlier.

Where was your first date? In a motel in Pennsylvania, I guess.

Who is more jealous? I don’t think either of us is particularly jealous, though we each have our flashes of jealousy.

How long did it take to get serious? It was serious pretty much immediately.

Who eats more? He can eat more in one sitting than I can; I could probably put away more in a day if I really tried.

Who does the laundry? It defaults to me, since I don’t have a job.

Who’s better with the computer? He is; I usually fuck mine up and then bitch at him ’til he fixes it.

Who drives when you are together? He does. I drive too slowly for his tastes. Ask me who got stopped for speeding most recently. (Hint: NOT ME.)

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

Every evening when we go out to put the chickens up (ie, lock the coop) and hang out with the dogs, I stop at the pecan tree to see if this bird is in her nest. If she’s not sitting there looking down at me, I jiggle the branch a little, and she pops her head out. I kind of love her.

Sassy (our true free-range chicken who leaves the chicken yard every day to venture to her old childhood (chickhood?) coop to lay her egg, decided too do cleanup duty under the bird feeders. (Please note all the damn gumballs on the driveway behind her. I hate those freakin’ things.)

Gracie pulled a gumball out of her fur and spat it out; I snapped the picture right before she spat it.

George loves the belly rubs.

Hello, gorgeous.

Buff rooster looks for a hen to defile.

“If I don’t look at those annoying chickens, they’re not there.”

Michelle, appalled. (Or mid-crow. Whatever.)

“You tawkin’ to ME?”

“Where my food, lady?”

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

The kittens are starting to venture further and further into the house during the day. This afternoon I walked into the kitchen to find Rumba sitting in front of the big bowl of (adult) cat food, eating like I’d been starving her. She had a look on her face like “Oh, so THIS is where they keep the good stuff!” She also went into the laundry room to check out the litter boxes (“They get the GOOD litter boxes!”).

Both girls spend most of their time during the day hanging out in my room – it’s kind of funny how all foster cats seem to really like hanging out in my room even though it doesn’t get half the sun that the foster room gets. This afternoon they were snuggled up in a cat bed on the recliner. When I sat down on my bed and spoke to them, Rumba actually came over to the bed to be petted. Samba was less interested in me, but I think that’s because she spotted a toy on the floor and had to show it who the boss was. (Hint: The toy is NOT the boss!)

So sweet, these girls. I probably haven’t mentioned that before, have I?

Poor Samba – she’s the bigger kitten, but Rumba always gets the best of her when it comes to kitten fightin’.

More kitten pics over at Love & Hisses.

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It’s a Spanky Pizza.

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

Previously
2008: “And the next, you and Franklin are being chased across the back forty by a really pissed-off injured pig who has slop in her mouth and murder in her heart.”
2007: We’ll be spending all day at the house.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Bet I was a cold splash of water in HIS night.
2003: Poor Miz Poo.
2002: Give me a guy with a great smile any day.
2001: Yeah, I know, it’s goofy.
2000: No entry.

2/17/09

Did I mention that there are some jams and hot sauces still available? We’re running out of some flavors, though, so I guess I’d better get my butt in gear and get to canning! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “2/17/09”

Did I mention that there are some jams and hot sauces still available? We’re running out of some flavors, though, so I guess I’d better get my butt in gear and get to canning!

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

Reader DeAnn, I think you’re not getting my reply to the email you sent – I responded to the first one and the re-send, but didn’t hear back, so I suspect I’m ending up in your spam folder. To answer the question:

With your shock collars and fence, do you recall the box mentioning if the fencing system could be rigged up to doors to prevent them from escaping? Also are the shock collars you have specifically for cats, or are they for dogs? Do you remember the brand you used?

I don’t remember the box saying anything about being used to stop animals from escaping from the house, but I asked Fred (who really knows more about it than I do), and he says that he thinks that it could definitely be used for that. He said that if you have a crawlspace under your house, you could actually run it a few feet back from the door so they couldn’t get anywhere near the door.

Our fence is made by PetSafe, and Fred said that he’s pretty sure the collars are technically made for small dogs, but they’re marketed to be used for cats.

I hope that helps!

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The other night we watched the second episode of Trust Me, the USA series starring Eric McCormack and… Thomas Cavanagh (sorry, I had to go look up his name. He’ll always be Ed to me).

They play ad execs at an advertising company, and they had to come up with a new slogan for a cell phone company because the one they’d previously come up with, “What can you do with one hand?” was deemed by focus groups to be about masturbation.

So their second slogan, the one that everyone on the show absolutely loved?

Do Thumbthing.

Oh my god in heaven, I loathed it. Fred liked it, though it was kind of catchy, but every time a character on the show said the slogan out loud, I did a full-body twitch. I thought it was AWFUL. I still do. It was like nails on a chalkboard every time someone said it. Ugh.

Other than that, and the fact that Monica Potter manages to be annoying and have a voice that grates and makes me want to shove a pencil in my ear every time she speaks, I kinda like the show.

And speaking of shows, it cracks me up that Mike White is on The Amazing Race. They showed him and I hooted and yelled “IT’S MIKE WHITE!” Fred looked and said “Holy cow, it’s Chuck!” (Except that he was actually Buck in that movie, not Chuck.)

I have to say that the grin Mike White has on his face every time he’s on camera makes him seem a bit simple-minded and he’s always struck me as kinda creepy, but I kinda like him anyway.

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I made Pioneer Woman’s cupcakes on Friday. They were pretty good, though I found that the more time went by, the dryer they got even though they were stored in an airtight container.

I also made a batch of Girlfriend’s Graham Cookies on Friday. Instead of walnuts, this time around I used chopped, toasted pecans (from our own pecan trees!), and they were even better than before. This time, Fred even liked them!

By Monday morning, we were both tired of eating sweets (if you can believe it), and I put all the sweet stuff away – except for the cupcakes, which I tossed in the bag we keep in the freezer for the next set of pigs.

(We didn’t find any pigs at the flea market yesterday, by the way. Which didn’t surprise us – we didn’t really think there’d be any there, but figured it didn’t hurt to look.)

Last night for dinner we had pork shoulder steaks, rubbed with spices and baked, then cut up and served over angel hair. On the side, we had green beans. Except for the angel hair, everything came from our land.

I love meals like that.

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Samba and Rumba are doing well. We kept them separated over the weekend and they continued being super-friendly and “I love you! Pet me! Let me flop over into your lap! I LOVE YOU!” When I couldn’t stand the sad meowing from behind two bedroom doors, I let them out of their respective rooms, and almost immediately their super friendliness went away. They’re still friendlier than they were before they were spayed, but they’re not the super-friendly lovebugs they turned into over the weekend, so I’m going to recommend that they go to the pet store separately. I’m afraid if they go together and are in the same cage, they’ll be skittish and unfriendly and hard to adopt out.

And they’re such sweet girls, they deserve to find their forever homes fast!

More kitten pics over at Love & Hisses.

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“How YOU doin’?”

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Previously
2008: We’re very protective of our property, if you couldn’t tell.
2007: No entry.
2006: Don’t call me paranoid – it happens to me ALL THE TIME.
2005: I feel like every time I run an errand in the Jeep I’m tempting Fate.
2004: I am blogrolling’s bitch.
2003: We figured if nothing else, we’d just start killing and eating cats.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: ***Warning! Adult language and situations ahead! Skip the first three paragraphs if you’re easily offended***

2/13/09

Happy Friday the 13th! Don’t let any black chickens cross your path… it’s totally bad luck, or so I hear. (They might leave you an egg, though, which probably negates any bad luck they bring.) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * … Continue reading “2/13/09”

Happy Friday the 13th!

Don’t let any black chickens cross your path… it’s totally bad luck, or so I hear. (They might leave you an egg, though, which probably negates any bad luck they bring.)

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Damnit, called out as a skimmer! Noooooooooo! (But shouldn’t that show you I’ve been reading long enough that I remember Fred being mysterious about his car FORFREAKINGEVER?)

That reminds me, I meant to put this up last week:

If it helps any, I don’t even remember what Fred was driving back when he refused to tell everyone what he drove. At one point he owned a Jeep Grand Cherokee, and then it was some sort of Suzuki SUV, and then another Suzuki SUV, then he went smaller when we moved out to the country and his drive in to work went from 10 minutes to 30.

I’m pretty sure his refusal to tell what he drove started as a joke, and the more people wanted to know, the more he wanted to torture them, because he’s a bastard that way!

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

Keep warm? Why haven’t you joined the Cult of Snuggie?!

Because if I wanted to wear a backwards robe, I’d get my robe out of the closet and put it on backwards. 🙂

(I am told by Fred that the Slanket is much nicer and better than the Snuggie. I am too afraid to ask how he knows this. He CLAIMS that he heard a long discussion about it on the radio, but I’m skeptical.)

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

A couple of getaway suggestions for the North Alabamians: Cloudland Canyon, GA
There’s a nice Inn in Monteagle, TN (it’s at the top of the big mountain you go over on I-24 on the way to Nashville) – if you’re the outdoorsy sort, there’s lots of hiking in that area.

I am totally going to try to get Fred to take me to that Inn. We always say “We should go away overnight” and then can’t come up with a place to go!

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

Okay, seriously – Is the pig hernia operation without anesthesia a normal thing? Does the ASPCA know about this??

I honestly don’t know if it’s normal. We had a hard time finding a vet who was willing to operate on the pigs, so we don’t have another vet’s procedures to compare it to. I still can’t believe they’d do the operation without anesthesia, it’s just barbaric.

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I have been feeding Sensible Choice cat food to my cats for years. Now they discontinued making it and I have tried California Natural and (the cheaper) Costco Kirkland brand. The CA Natural was OK, but the Kirkland brand makes their poop stink to high heaven. Really, it is very bad and hangs around forever. What do you feed your cats?

Myself, I feed our spoiled rotten cats three different kinds of food (four if you include Snackin’! Time!). In one container I mix Nutro Natural Choice Senior and Purina Veterinary Diets UR. In the other container, I have Taste of the Wild. We have two bowls of each food available, and they seem to all go down at about the same rate. (Snackin’! Time! involves cans of Fancy Feast Elegant Medleys food. It’s about the only canned food that doesn’t make the more sensitive-stomached cats barf on a regular basis.)

I’ve heard that Dick Van Patten’s Natural Balance cat food is good for reducing both the volume and the smell of litter box leavings.

Readers? Suggestions?

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

Also wondering if you and Fred ever watch The Big Bang Theory. Now THAT’S some high-quality geek humor. Four nerds sitting around playing Klingon Boggle. Gotta love it. The hubby and I DVR it every week and it’s hilarious.

I’d like to give it a try (I’ve loved Johnny Galecki ever since his days on Roseanne) and I’ve downloaded the first several shows, but I haven’t gotten around to actually watching it yet!

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Hi, I’m a longtime lurker/reader… had to laugh about you telling Fred you would kill him if you got pig poop on you. When I watched you and Nancy do those video podcasts, you were really laid back. I honestly can’t see you saying half the things you say you said to Fred in a violent manner. Hope things work out with the pigs! BTW, I also think it’s hilarious when you talk about how much you love Publix. We don’t have Publix where we live in SC, but my husband is from GA and loves the store. He wants them to come up here so badly!

I’m usually laid back, but I have my moments, as Fred can tell you. I usually get over it pretty quickly, though, and most of the time Fred just laughs at me.

Publix is the BEST grocery store ever, and I hope they spread out across the entire country. I bet Nance would agree that Publix rocks – she was pretty impressed last summer when she and Trey visited!

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

Those baby chicks are soooo cute. I used to see chicks hatch at my grandmas .They were the fluffy yellow chicks. Do they even still have those? When I had my own chicks,they were brown babies like yours.

We did have one single little yellow chick, but unfortunately that’s the one who died unexpectedly! Poor thing.

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

I got more eggs from my brother this weekend. I dropped a few, so decided to make scrambled eggs. Only this one, didn’t want to open. I was able to peel the entire shell away from the membrane and then had to use a fork to pierce the membrane. My brother admits he has fed them too much oyster shell in the last month or two, but come on. I’m trying to talk him into letting me document his incubating/hatching, but he’s pretty sure he’s just going to mail order chicks again, this year.

That egg is just freaky! I’ve had eggs that are hard to crack before, but nothing like that.

And incubating/ hatching eggs is just a really neat experience (despite the sad and unexpected deaths). Watching the chicks hatch and then watching them grow (our babies are starting to feather out!) is just amazing.

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Be careful with your pig buying if you go back to the same fella — hernias are genetic in hogs.

The pigs with the hernias were available because they had hernias – they were culls from a commercial pig farming place – the guy we’ll most likely be getting our next pigs from is the guy who sold us our first set of pigs last year, and those pigs were hernia-free, thank god.

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

And just HOW did Miz Poo end up without a bed?? I can’t believe she didn’t put the smack-down on one of the boys and take his bed.

I’m sure she was coming up with her smackdown strategy as I took that picture – I believe that just a few minutes later she sniffed at Mister Boogers, who responded by lifting up his head and grumping at her, and then she smacked him until he gave up and stomped off for friendlier pastures.

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

Everyone should have a oven thermometer. I found that out big time. At my last apartment the oven was 100 degrees higher then what the dial said. Meaning instead of 350 degrees it would be 450 degrees! At first I thought my baking skills had gone to hell! Pun intended. 😉 Now at my new digs the oven is only 25 degrees higher. Check your ovens girls! It just might not be your fault you can’t bake worth a darn. Hee!

I actually bought an oven thermometer yesterday. Imagine my surprise when I opened the preheated oven to put dinner in the oven, and found that the thermometer read exactly what it was supposed to. I guess I can’t blame my cookie failure last weekend on the oven. More like operator error, I guess!

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

Have you ever had a runt of the litter and did you notice a difference in their personality? My male is a runt and he is a total whack job!! Small-ish and so odd in his hot and cold need for affection and in his general lack of confidence in climbing/jumping.

Sugarbutt was the runt of his litter. He does run very hot and cold in his need for love – if he wants love HE MUST HAVE IT NOW, but if he doesn’t, then you’d best just not even bother ’cause he’ll have none of it.

He’s not lacking in confidence when it comes to climbing and jumping, though. He’s a jumping fool!

Do you have a momma-clinger? Which I guess has been answered with that photo! I wondered because my female was totally velcroed to my side yesterday even meowing to be held. She does the “let me sit here on this paper you are reading” thing all the time too.

Miz Poo is VERY clingy. The only reason she doesn’t spend all her time in front of me when I’m in front of the computer is because I won’t allow it (oh, don’t give me that look, I am NOT abusive!). That doesn’t stop her from trying 63 times a day, though. When I’m sitting and watching TV, she’s on my lap. If I’m laying down watching TV, she’s curled up against me. When I go to bed, she’s right there either on me or up against me. She LOVES HER MOMMA.

Actually, she loves everyone. I just happen to be the one who’s around most often.

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

“Something about the sunshine makes them friendly, and they’ll come over to me to be petted.” Why, they’re solar powered, of course!

Why do I always forget that? Nothing makes cats happier than sunshine!

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

I was wondering if there was chance that nosy neighbor would see your fruit trees and instead of thinking “barrier,” he would think “free fruit” and help himself?

Oh, it’s entirely possible – but I imagine there’ll be so much fruit we won’t notice if some of it goes missing!

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

I think the neighbor’s son is checking Fred out–not looking at what he’s doing!! (assuming we’re talking about an adult and not a child!!)

Yeah, he’s an adult. And his living at his Mom’s seems to be a mostly seasonal thing – he’s around in the Spring and Summer, disappears at some point in the Fall, and shows up every now and then through the winter.

He very well might be checking Fred out – I did mention that Fred has a nice butt, didn’t I?

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

Kara certainly is a pretty girl!

She is! I have to admit that I’ve not been all that impressed with brown tabbies in the past – I mean, I’ve liked them, but always preferred orange tabbies – but Kara is so pretty that I’ve gained a new appreciation for them. I love the white around her mouth and her caramel-colored belly, and her gorgeous green eyes!

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

Did you watch the dog show? I cheered for the Great Pyrenees, thinking of you guys. Cats were not impressed with the whole thing, at all.

No, we don’t usually watch the dog show, but if I’d known there were Pyrs there, I might have insisted!

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

Cannot wait to see pics of the old house. (OF COURSE, you’re going to scan the pictures. Ahem.)

Absolutely I am! I can’t wait to see those pictures, and I know y’all will want to see them too!

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When my brother and I were young, on the way home from the babysitters, we’d usually ask what was for dinner. My mother usually answered with “Shit on a stick.” I always loved that and use it frequently now myself.

and

We also got the ‘shit on a stick’ response to ‘what’s for dinner’ when growing up! 🙂 I also HATE that question with fire of a thousand suns!! My kids pretty much have stopped asking it but my response is either ‘food’ or ‘poop…poop on a stick’ (as my kids are 12, 7 and 2…the older one will get the ‘shit on a stick’ response! *G*) I guess my mom DIDN’T make up the ‘shit on a stick’ response!

Dee and Christine, out of curiosity, where did y’all grow up? Or rather I guess I should ask what part of the country your mothers grew up in – I’m wondering if it’s a regional thing. I can’t say that I’ve ever heard “shit on a stick” as a “What’s for dinner” response – but I’m intrigued!

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

Suggestion re: dinner. If the menu is planned out, maybe you could write it down on the fridge. That way, all you’d have to do is point.

I actually used to do that (and the spud dearly loved crossing off each night’s dinner after we’d eaten, she’s a dork like her momma), and I should start doing it again, but I’m not sure it’d stop Fred from asking.

What I REALLY ought to do is post it at the top of each entry, in bold!

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

Dee – have you ever had “Shit on a Shingle”? Usually some beef in gravy served over toast. We had it sometimes as kids, my dad would say they served it when he was in the Army.

I don’t know about Dee, but we certainly had it! (My father was in the Air Force.) We didn’t call it “Shit on a Shingle”, though, it was S.O.S, but I remember always knowing what the initials stood for.

I loved that stuff!

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

Ok, I love Kara and am thrilled that you have adopted her, AND I read you daily – can you point to the place where you discuss adopting her. For some reason I don’t remember this.

(Hee! I kid!)

I mentioned it in passing on October 22nd, and then wrote about it for real on October 23rd. (I find it funny that in that entry, I said DO NOT WANT A DOG. Ha!) (Also, we never did rename her – we call her “Upstairs Mama” or just “Mama”, and I often call her Kara.)

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

Just curious, but don’t the dogs get kind of…um….well….covered in chicken shit?? Living in with the chickens and all, I mean. How do you keep them clean? Do they get brushed and taken on walks ever?

They do get chicken shit on them – though not as much as you’d imagine – but their fur seems to be made of Teflon or something. They’ll have chicken shit on them when I go out in the morning, for instance, but by the time I go out at noon to check for eggs, the chicken shit is gone. Stuff doesn’t seem to stick to their fur for long. They actually get more covered in leaves and grass than anything.

Fred went out and brushed them both several times yesterday with the Furminator, and got quite a bit of loose fur off them. We’re going into the part of the year where they’ll start shedding, so they’ll need to be brushed regularly over the next few months to prevent matting.

They don’t get taken on walks except around the back 40. They’re working dogs, not pets. They have chickens to protect, and they will rarely leave their territory.

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

Rumba and Samba are home from their spaying. As I mentioned I was going to, I put Rumba in the guest bedroom and Samba in the kitten foster room. The difference in their attitudes from before was like night and day. Before, Samba wouldn’t even come over to be petted (unless I was sitting in a patch of sunlight, and even then she was very skittish about it). When I walked into the room after she’d been in there alone for about ten minutes, she ran over and was like “Where have you BEEN? I need LOVE, and I need it NOW, please!” Then she spent the entire time I was in the room rubbing up against me, purring loudly, flopping in my lap.

It’s absolutely stunning what separating a couple of skittish kittens will do to their personality. It’s not the first time I’ve done it (or the first time I’ve seen the amazing instant switch in how they act), but it’s still incredible every time.

I’m likely going to keep them separated through the weekend and then let them out and see how that goes.

(Sorry, I have no pictures of them to share. I will by Monday, I promise!)

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

Previously
2008: “We wouldn’t want to detract from the beauty of the muddy cat footprints on the counters. But you don’t need to worry. That’s not a maggot.”
2007: I need a nap.
2006: Mystery solved. Just call me Nancy Drew.
2005: No entry.
2004: Molasses runs in her veins, I swear to god.
2003: No entry.
2002: My life? Complete again.
2001: Do I want to go sit through an eternal PTA meeting, listen to endless amounts of people babble endlessly? Um, no.
2000: No entry.

2/12/09

Here’s something I do that is very annoying and should annoy the shit out of Fred, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too terribly much. When we’re going somewhere, he’ll say to me “Are you ready?” And I will invariably say “Yes.” So he will get up and he will get his shoes on, … Continue reading “2/12/09”

Here’s something I do that is very annoying and should annoy the shit out of Fred, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too terribly much.

When we’re going somewhere, he’ll say to me “Are you ready?”

And I will invariably say “Yes.”

So he will get up and he will get his shoes on, and he will wait by the door.

“Oh, I have to pee,” I say, because I’m always afraid we’ll get halfway to where we’re going and have to pee, even if it’s like two minutes away.

Fred stands patiently by the door.

“Oh, I need to fill my water bottle,” I say, because I don’t want to get thirsty, do I? WHAT IF I GET THIRSTY? WHATEVER WOULD WE DO?!

Fred stands patiently by the door.

“Oh, I need to get gum,” I say, because I’m a gum-chewing motherfucker and am always running out of gum.

Fred stands patiently by the door.

You get the idea. It takes me five to seven minutes, on average, to actually BE ready to walk out the door. If it were me standing there and waiting by the door, I would be SERIOUSLY annoyed at having to wait for someone who claimed she was ready to leave. Fred will sometimes go outside to wait for me but usually waits by the door, because we almost always take my car, and if he takes my keys and goes out to the car, I’ll have no house key with which to lock the door.

Probably what Fred needs to start doing is asking me five minutes before he’s ready to go if I’m ready to go, so that I’ll have five minutes to get all my shit done and my ass ready to walk out the door before he actually goes and gets his shoes on.

Except that I’d probably be annoyed at having to wait for him to get his shoes on.

There’s really no winning with me, is there?

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

Speaking of no winning with me, I have a question for y’all – how many goddamn times a day do you have to answer “What’s for dinner?”

Before the spud moved to Rhode Island*, every day she’d get home from school and ask “What’s for dinner?”

I’d tell her.

Fred would get home from work and ask “What’s for dinner?”

I’d tell him.

Sometimes directly after dinner, the spud would say “What’s for dinner tomorrow night?”

I’d tell her.

Then she’d come home from school and say “What’s for dinner?”

I’d tell her.

And on and on.

(Sometimes if I’d already answered the question the night before, I’d refuse to answer it again. I AM NOT THE DINNER ORACLE.)

These days, there’s one less person in the house, but I seem to answer the question with the same frequency.

Yesterday, Fred got home from work. “Are we having enchiladas for dinner?” he asked.

“No, we’re having chicken pot pie,” I said. “Well, unless you’d rather have enchiladas. Both the enchiladas and pot pie are ready to be put in the oven, we could have pot pie tomorrow night instead.”

“Pot pie’s fine, I just couldn’t remember.” (From the conversation about dinner we’d had the night before, that is.)

We ate dinner. Fred went into the kitchen to do the dishes and put the leftovers away.

“Are we having pot pie again tomorrow night?” he asked.

“No, we’re having it Friday,” I said.

In a most puzzled manner, he said “Then what are we having tomorrow night?”

“ENCHILADAS.”

I AM NOT THE DINNER ORACLE. If he asks when he gets home from work, I will beat him over the head with the dish of enchiladas, I swear it.

*She moved to Rhode Island to live with her father and go to college. She is currently taking the semester off. (I only say this because every time I mention the child, someone searches on “Why did the spud move to Rhode Island?”)

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

It cracks me up when I look out the window and see the dogs laying on the ground in front of the coop, dead to the world.

Poor exhausted pups.

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

From left to right, a regular egg from one of our chickens (most of our eggs look like this; I have no way of knowing who laid it); an egg from either a Featherhead or the Rock Star; and a Silkie egg.

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

I don’t know what freaked Kara out, but she raced in from the back yard through the cat door, through the house, and didn’t stop ’til she was on the landing. See the puffed-out tail? It stayed puffed-out like that for several minutes before she calmed down.

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

Previously
2008: “I’ve lost Joe, and Fred is going to kill me,” I informed Mister Boogers, who glared at me and went back to sleep.
2007: I do NOT know why the fuck I’m such an idiot.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Sounds like corporate logic, to me – cable guys having to service DVRs when they don’t know anything at all about them.
2003: Uninspired.
2002: Dude, what the fuck? They don’t have mirrors on Boston Public?
2001: My husband, Narcissus.
2000: No entry.

2/11/09

The other night when we were sitting down to watch TV and the Presidential Address was on, I said to Fred “I still can’t believe we actually have a black President. That’s way too cool. I feel like we’re living in an episode of 24. I expect to see Jack Bauer sidling across the background … Continue reading “2/11/09”

The other night when we were sitting down to watch TV and the Presidential Address was on, I said to Fred “I still can’t believe we actually have a black President. That’s way too cool. I feel like we’re living in an episode of 24. I expect to see Jack Bauer sidling across the background wearing his man purse.”

Fred laughed. “Welcome to the future!”

Maybe we’ll see a female president in office in a couple of seasons?

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

I finally FINALLY have a PO Box closer than the one in Madison (the drive to check that PO Box was getting on my nerves). If you’ve got my PO Box address, update your address books, ’cause the one in Madison will be going bye-bye soon*.

AND THEN SEND ME ONE MEELLION DOLLARS!

*Well, it won’t really be going anywhere – it’ll still be there, I just won’t be getting the mail that goes there.

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

The good thing about having a BrooderCam is that I can see what the baby chicks are doing without having to haul my ass the 80 feet to the outbuilding to see in person (though of course I go out there regularly to touch the babies with the fangers, ’cause they’re so damn cute).

The bad thing about having a BrooderCam is that if a baby chick is laying asleep in front of the camera for too long, Fred will call and ask me to look at the live feed and determine whether the chicken is sleeping or dead. (Luckily, the answer all day yesterday was “sleeping.”)

Baby Chicks, 2 days old from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.

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

Fred called when I was at the grocery store yesterday and told me to call him when I got home because he had news.

“Well, tell me now!” I said.

“I’d rather wait ’til you’re at home,” he said.

“Oh, will it make me mad and want to swear profusely?” I said.

“No, the opposite I think,” he said.

So I called him when I got home, and he told me that this time when he called the niece of the woman who’d built our house (he’d tried calling before a few times and didn’t get an answer), she answered, and they talked for about 45 minutes.

She said that it brought tears to her eyes to hear that we love our house so much, and that we did a lot of work inside, that we’ve got a garden and chickens and a small orchard.

And the best thing? She said that she has a box of pictures, and that she’ll get them out of storage and send them to us! We’ve wished ever since we first saw this house that we could see what it’s looked like in the years since it was first built, and now we’re going to get to!

That is way too awesome.

She also said that she has friends in the area and gets down this way every now and then (she lives in Tennessee), and she’d like to stop by and see the inside of the house if that was okay with us.

“Did you tell her that she’s welcome to stop by whenever she wants, because we’ll pump her for information?” I said.

“I did,” Fred said.

The house was built in 1930, she said, which means it’s 79 years old – older than we thought! They had chickens here, and a mule that they used to plow the back forty (which was pasture), and the cement pad in the back yard held a house that was floor-to-ceiling shelves that held all their canned goods. What’s now the computer room and laundry room used to be one big sun room, and what’s our dining room now used to be a bedroom/ sitting room.

I am DYING to see those old pictures. I can’t wait!

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

BEST foster news ever! Lem and Delmar got adopted last night – TOGETHER!!!! Yay!!!!!

Marion is in “quarantine” in a foster home because she bit someone at the store, and Claudette is in a cage by herself at the store. The side benefit of Claudette being alone is that now she’s starting to come out of her shell.

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

Samba and Rumba are going to be spayed tomorrow. Of course after I mentioned yesterday that once I bring them home tomorrow night I’m going to separate them for a few days and see if that’ll help make them friendlier, Rumba started coming around to be petted last night. She’s actually the friendlier of the two kittens, but I’m still going to separate them to see if I can get Samba to the point where she doesn’t look like I’m trying to murder her if I attempt to pet her.

Have I mentioned that these kittens are seriously cute? Probably not. They are, you know.

Sometimes I let them “catch” the light, and then they don’t know what to do.

Kitten’s all “I think that’s my food?”
Miz Poo‘s all “Don’t make me hurt you, kid.”

Kitten’s all “::Gasp!:: It’s Tom Cullen, the Ambassador of Love!”
Tommy’s all “Is there some of that tasty kitten food in here? I think I smell some. Bring on the food!”

More kitten pics (fun with the laser pointer!) over at Love & Hisses.

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

I think Miz Poo’s ready to put the smack down.

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

Previously
2008: We watched as fucko stopped, picked something up, and went back to his own property.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Why she felt the need to ostentatiously walk up and down the property line so many times instead of just coming over and talking to Fred, I have no idea.
2004: Interesting how that works, no?
2002: Woulda made a good picture.
2001: No entry.
2000: Have you ever noticed that if you read or say the same word over and over, it ceases to make any kind of sense?

2/10/09

Poor little Zippy – the tiny chick who was born last on Sunday morning – didn’t make it. Both Fred and I are bummed because the little guy fought so hard to be born, but he was just too weak. Late yesterday he could do nothing but lay on his back and flail around chirping, … Continue reading “2/10/09”

On the good side, I’m going to recycle the name for Sassy’s baby. I couldn’t come up with a good name – I suggested “Saucy” to Fred, who rolled his eyes – and Zippy’s a pretty damn good name.

Zippy McGee. I think it works well.

And to our utter amazement, one of the biggest, healthiest-looking chicks, a yellow chick that appeared to be a Buff Orpington – up and died overnight, too. This is the part I hate about having baby chickens, frankly – not knowing when one that appears to be perfectly healthy is going to up and die on you.

I was told last night that the guy at the store where we bought the Silkies (oh, hi. I think I didn’t mention that we got a white Silkie a few weeks ago, did I? We did. Shut up.) is going to have fertile eggs for Fred this weekend. These eggs are going to come from Golden-Laced Wyandottes crossed with a Buff Orpington rooster.

Laced Wyandottes are probably the prettiest chickens on earth. The Rock Star looks very much like a Golden-Laced Wyandotte and I love her markings.

So yes, apparently we’re going to be hatching more eggs soon. Don’t roll your eyes at me – it wasn’t MY idea.

Fred’s got a BrooderCam up and running for at least a few days. Sometimes those chicks get right up in the camera, and sometimes they disappear. Ya never know what you’re gonna get.

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

The other night when we were sitting in the living room, I told Fred the story of how Xeney was in Rite Aid and a jerk told the cashier working there that he’d heard Rite Aid was going under, and kept it going even though the cashier was freaking out. Xeney told the guy he was an asshole, and rightly so.

Fred did a double-take and gave me a face of amazement.

Wow, I thought to myself. That’s kind of an overreaction.

He asked a few questions, and then I came to understand that even though it had APPEARED that he’d been paying attention to what I was saying, he had been off in his own little world, and he’d tuned back in about two-thirds of the way through the story. He was under the impression that I had been in that Rite-Aid line and chimed in when the person in front of me told the guy he was an asshole.

And then I realized that Fred is Joey.

(Except that in Fred’s head, there are show tunes.) (Also, I suspect he’s more a cross between Chandler and Joey.)

Usually, Fred’s Ross and I’m Chandler. Or Joey. Except that I’m kinda ditzy like Phoebe. I am an amalgam of Friends characters!

::sigh:: I miss Friends.

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

I never did make an appointment for Rumba and Samba to be spayed/ id chipped/ rabies shotted, but I’m going to call and do that today. They’re doing well. The best time to hang out with them is when there’s sun flooding the foster room. Something about the sunshine makes them friendly, and they’ll come over to me to be petted.

After they’ve been spayed, I’ve decided that I’m going to separate them for a couple of days. Separating skittish kittens often changes them into more friendly cats for some reason, so I’m going to put one in the foster room and the other in the guest bedroom and see if it makes any difference. If they’re miserable apart, of course, I’ll reunite them, but hopefully it’ll make them a little more willing to be petted. I’ll report how that goes, of course.

I don’t remember what I was dangling over their heads – some toy or another, I’m sure – but I certainly had their interest!

More kitten pics over at Love & Hisses.

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

Truly, Kara does not approve of those big loud barking things.

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

Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Unless maybe it’s a magic leotard and the source of all her powers?
2005: “Life’s too fucking short to read books that suck.”
2004: Damn you, DVR! I WANT to love you, but you’re toying with my emotions!
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I’m not sure what effect, if any, it had on her.

2/6/09

It’s good to know that I’m not the only one who’s married to a man who leaves the car door wide open and does a half-assed job of the dishes. Your comments yesterday cracked me UP. Fred doesn’t leave the kitchen cabinet doors wide open, but he’s quite fond of never shutting drawers all the … Continue reading “2/6/09”

It’s good to know that I’m not the only one who’s married to a man who leaves the car door wide open and does a half-assed job of the dishes. Your comments yesterday cracked me UP.

Fred doesn’t leave the kitchen cabinet doors wide open, but he’s quite fond of never shutting drawers all the way. It annoys me, but it doesn’t drive me crazy – I don’t get it, though. Why shut the drawer part of the way? WHY?

And now that I’m in a better mood today, I should balance yesterday’s bitching about Fred with some nice things. So in no particular order, random things I like about Fred:

1. He’s a master builder. Three years ago, he’d never built a thing. Now, he’s built four outbuildings (wood shed, small coop, medium coop, big coop, and garden shed), steps to the side of the house, bird houses, a fence around two and a half acres – the list is endless!

2. He’s a big ol’ softy. Did you know he goes out and crawls into the dog house and hangs out with the dogs just about every morning?

3. He puts up with my shit and doesn’t get mad when I write about the things he does that annoys me.

4. He’s super smart and can usually explain things to me that I just don’t get in a way so that I understand. Also, he’s up on current affairs and when I ask him what the hell’s going on with something (“Who’s this nice-looking black fellow they keep showing on the TV, Fred?” “That’s our new president, Bessie.”) he can sum it up in a sentence or two.

5. He has a nice butt.

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

Previously
2008: Visiting dogs = okay. Permanent dogs = not gonna happen.

LOL! And no more cats, either, right? (c;

Every damn time I swear that we’re not going to get SOMETHING, we seem to end up with it within a year.

So right here, right now, I swear to you all upon all that is good and holy that I will NOT in the next year be holding a multi-million-dollar winning lottery ticket! I just won’t have it!

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

You know, I really hated the Dyson handheld when Bryan brought it home, but I actually use it for major dusting now. I find it a lot more agile than using the vacuum hose, and I like that you can’t lose the little brushy extension. We have picture-frame paneling and interior brick, which means I have a lot of tiny dusty ledges to deal with, and I use it around the power cords and furniture feet where fur tumbleweeds flourish. I can vacuum the sheet-covered couch without it ingesting the sheet, too, which is a big bonus. So I would give it a “not terrible” rating if you have dogs and nooks like stairs, you just have to learn to be efficient with your 6 minutes of battery life.

I might have to give that a try. Maybe I’ll take it for a test run around the baseboards (at least some of them!) and see if that makes me any happier about it.

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

I thought you’d enjoy this. Maybe get a few goats just for the comedy?

Don’t encourage Fred.

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

You know what would be awesome on your site? A guess the kitty game, similar to this one for the Duggar family. You could use all your regular cats, past and present, and throw in the foster cats, pigs, chickens, etc. for an extra challenge!!

Oh man, if I had ANY kind of mad skillz at all, I’d create a game like that. It’d be neat to see how many people I could stump with it!

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

Love the metal roof, Robyn. I wanna put one on our place when we need a new roof. How’d you get the insurance company to pay for part of it? I.e. How can I get me some of that action??

We called the insurance company, and they sent an adjuster out. We’ve had problems recently where if it rains for too long, we get leaks in several places in the house. The adjuster went up on the roof and reported that we had some pretty severe storm damage. Within a few days, we had a check from them. Like I said, it never occurred to me that they’d pay anything, but Fred’s partner mentioned that we should check with our agent before paying for it ourselves, thank god we did.

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

A question about the whole absorbency thing with towels and fabric softener. How do you keep them from the evil static cling?

ms7168 said:

I have always used fabric softener on my towels . . I just use less and that way no static cling but it will still absorb 🙂

It never occurred to me that that could work!

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

The post for 02-02-04 hot/versus good looking was one of the most fun ever. Would you consider repeating the question five years later just because it’s so much fun?

Okay, y’all – five years later, let’s hear it. Who’s hot but not good-looking, and who’s good-looking but not hot in your opinion?

I’ll go first.

Hot: Bruce Campbell. (Okay, wait. I think he’s good-looking, too.) James Gandolfini (but only as Tony Soprano. Otherwise, he does nothin’ for me.)

Good-looking: Jeffrey Donovan. (Okay, wait. He’s also kinda hot. I love the way he over-enunciates everything he says.) Good-looking but nowhere in the same universe as hot: Tom Cruise and John Travolta.

(Why yes, we ARE watching Burn Notice still. I LOVE BRUCE CAMPBELL.)

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

Love the new roof! Ever considered any matching board and batten shutters? With Fred’s building skills, he would probably make them

I can’t say that we’ve ever talked about it. Right now I’m trying to convince Fred (through hostile thoughts in his direction every time I have to vacuum up the crap that gets tracked through the back door) that we need a covered porch on the back of the house – just a small one where we can take off our boots and shoes and leave them – but after that, maybe we’ll think about shutters. It’d probably go at the bottom of a long and always-growing list, though!

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

I’m surprised you guys don’t have a GPS! Fred seems like he’d get a kick out of geocaching. I splurged on a Garmin right before Christmas and I love it more than I ever thought I would. It comes in handy really often.

Back in 2002 and 2003, Fred did quite a bit of geocaching, actually. (His first entry about it is here.) We got caught up in other things and haven’t done it since, but we do have a GPS around here somewhere. But it’s an OLD GPS and I rather doubt it would come in handy when I’ve done something brilliant like try to get home a new way and gotten myself lost.

(Though maybe it would. Perhaps I oughta see if I can find it and give it a try!)

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

Hey! Your banner for February is pretty darn cute! Who made it if I might ask?

It’s actually a replay from last February, created by Aly!

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

“Fred reported that he vigorously licked Samba on top of the head, and she really liked it.”

HOWL!

Proofreading is my friend… proofreading is my friend… ah, fuck it. Why start now?

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

Your story about the dogs and the pig ears reminded me of my friend’s brother. He had a small dog as well as a pot-bellied pig, both as pets. One day he was trimming the pig’s hooves when he noticed his dog skulking about. He watched as his dog scurried out, grabbed a piece of discarded pig hoof, and ran off to go chew his treat in another spot.

That… is rather gross. It’s kind of like chewing fingernails, though, I’d imagine. I wonder if pigs hooves trimmings taste like fingernail clippings? (Please note: I will not be testing this theory, thankyou.)

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

Do you ever call Tom Cullen M-O-O-N, that spells moon?

Gawd, I hope you get that.

But of course! Before we even decided to adopt him, Fred said “We should name him Tom Cullen and when we make an appointment for him at the vet, we could say “Yes, I need to make an appointment for my cat, Tom Cullen. It’s spelled M-O-O-N.”” And then we cackled about it like dorks for a long, long time.

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

Did you see The Rocker? It was pretty cute.

I did! I watched it alone because Fred wasn’t interested in it, but I actually think he would have enjoyed it. I liked the music so much that I went and downloaded the album that same day.

(GOD I LOVE THE INTERNET.)

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Fred would like you to know:

I would just like to say that killing and eating those little pigs was an option, but SOMEONE thought returning them was a better choice.

SOMEONE still thinks that returning them is a better choice, thank you very much.

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I got all excited thinking we FINALLY would know Fred’s car, but no, I see the Ram is just from his truck….right? Darn it!

Actually, Fred wrote about his car – a Hyundai Accent – a year and a half ago. In fact, I linked to his entry from this entry, then went on to talk about the way I turn into a pouty teenage brat when it comes to car negotiations because – hello – BORING.

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Anyone else get a kick out of the fact that the chicken is George but the rooster is Michelle? HAHA!

Well, that’s ’cause they’re named after certain people. Michelle’s named after a reader who recommended a tomato strainer. George is named after a Curious monkey.

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Robyn-I know this is totally unsolicited advice-but I just had to comment.

I worked on a pig farm for years after college, and the best way to hold a pig is by catching it by the back leg (as it runs past you!) and holding it by both back legs with the pig’s belly facing away from you. Something about this posture keeps them much calmer and reduces the deafening squealing. You guys were right to send those pigs back, I am not sure how successful pushing on the hernia is.

I did not know that! Thanks for that, it may come in handy in the future. (Though I’ll admit that I’m kinda hoping I never need to put that into action!)

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What’s worse, do you think? Stepping in cold cat barf, or warm cat barf? I’m trying to decide here, but I think the jury’s still out on that one.

They are each a special kind of hell, but I would prefer warm cat barf, and let me tell you why – because if it’s still warm, then I can look around and see which cat is lurking about and licking his or her lips, and pretty much know who did it, and I can keep an eye on them to see if a problem is developing!

If “NO cat barf” were an option, though, I’d certainly go for that!

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I read you during my lunch hour. When I’m eating. Just giving you my schedule so you’ll know next time to leave out the guts talk. Thanks!

You might have wanted to skip that discussion about cat barf, then.

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“It’s kinda too bad that they’re going back, because they’ve certainly got personality.” I got a Pulp Fiction vibe off this, but I’m not sure if that’s what you intended. Cracks me up none the less.

That’s because I’m a bad motherfucker. That’s right.

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With regard to the roosters, does each one have his own wimmin or is it a share and share alike thing?

Let me take a moment here to say that it was just yesterday that I was looking back through entries from a year ago and LITERALLY we had thirteen chickens this time last year, and they were all living in the small coop in a corner of the back yard, spending their days wandering around our back yard and pooping it up. We have gone from thirteen to 80-something in a year.

I expect that this time next year, the chickens will be living in the house, and Fred and the cats and I will be living in the little chicken coop.

But to answer your question, as far as I can tell, the roosters don’t each have their own wimmin, they appear to share, and they all seem fairly happy about the arrangement.

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Help! I want to escape with my honey for a one night get away, somewhere not too far to drive. Any suggestions? (hotels or just locations appreciated.)

The only things that come immediately to mind: a trip to Nashville (stay in the Opryland Hotel!) or I’ve always thought that staying overnight at a B&B in Hartselle and then spending the next morning walking up and down the little main strip of antique stores would be neat. Or a trip to the Ocoee in Ducktown, Tennessee is not too far away, and the river is very neat – though on second thought, I wouldn’t recommend it this time of year, maybe in the Spring or Fall. Oh, and I hear there are cabins on top of Monte Sano in Huntsville that you can rent, I bet it’s pretty (though you might want to go further from home than that!).

How about it, North Alabamans? Got suggestions for a one night get-away?

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I gotta say, I’ve never in my life heard about trying to “poke them back in.” It’s a simple surgery to fix them, but eh….why bother… Much easier to just buy them without. FWIW though, there were a few 4-H hogs last year with hernias. They made it up to weight just fine apparently.

Fred actually called around to vets to see how much it would cost to have the hernias fixed. Without anesthesia, $35 each. With anesthesia, $75 each. We were appalled – “Without anesthesia? Are you SERIOUS?!” Fred talked to his sister, who said that she was pretty sure that they’d do a local anesthesia on the pigs FOR GOD’S SAKE THEY’RE NOT BARBARIANS. So we were all “Hmmm. $35 per pig isn’t a bad price, that’d be $17 per person! We should totally do that!” Fred called the vet to make sure they’d do a local.

No local. That area is hard to block. They – the vet SAID THIS – strap the pig down, put in ear plugs, and start cutting.

JAYSUS.

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I remember awhile back you were talking about how cold you were. Well, I am in the same boat right now–I’m currently down 48 pounds and I am just freezing–and no matter what I do, I can’t get warm. At work, I am practically sitting on top of my little space heater (because the building I work in is 100 years old and heat apparently wasn’t invented back then). Driving to and from work–well, anytime I am in the car really–the seat heater is on high and the temperature is turned up to 90. When I’m home, the thermostat is turned up, I’m wearing 8 layers of clothes, including socks AND slippers, and I’m wrapped up like a burrito in my Slanket. What did you do to get (and stay) warm??????

Part of my problem at that point was that I was on a beta blocker (for an irregular heartbeat caused by a murmur). Once I went off that, I didn’t have the problem nearly as much. I’m still cold more often than Fred is, but I think that’s fairly normal. To stay warm, I dress in layers. I have the space heater on all the freakin’ time (it’s like three inches from my legs right now), but I have to say that the one thing I’ve purchased that makes ALL the difference for me, especially when I’m on the couch in front of the TV, is a heated throw. It’s just an electric blanket, only smaller, and when I get under that baby and turn it up on high, the fact that the front room is 59 degrees (TRUE STORY, despite the fact that the damn heat is running ALL THE TIME) doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I love my heated throw. LOVE IT.

Readers, got any warming suggestions?

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Rumba and Samba seem to both be completely sneeze-and-sniffles free. I’m going to call later today and make an appointment for their spaying/ id chipping/ rabies shots.

I always feel sorry for the kittens when they have to be carted off to the vet and be spayed or neutered. I know it’s for the best, but they’re always so scared!

I’ll just tell them we’re going for a FUN RIDE and there’ll be toys and nice people to pet them! Think they’ll fall for that?

More kitten pics over at L&H.

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Brudderly love, still goin’ on. Tommy is clearly thrilled about it.

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Previously
2008: I am 40 years old, and I started SWEATING because I was SO WORRIED that the doctor would YELL AT ME about gaining weight ON MY OWN BODY.
2007: (DON’T JUDGE ME)
2006: I’ve been watching a lot of TV lately.
2005: No entry.
2004: And then Fictional Woman and Fictional Child share an Isn’t he DISGUSTING? look, and bid each other goodnight.
2003: Taking a nap looks like a good idea.
2002: I decide who’s King Shit of Turd Mountain, y’all, and don’t forget it.
2001: Everyone enjoys a good fart story!
2000: No entry.