hasta la vista, baby

Tick Tock

I do not particularly like lists, but on my drive to town this morning I came up with this, my Yin Yang List of 2009.

Hated/Despised/Disliked ........ Loved/Adored/Liked

Losing Buster........ Getting Princess

Turning fifty-two .......... Living to see fifty-two

Living in a small, nay, tiny town.......... Country living

Good neighbors.......... Evil neighbors

Losing chickens to predators........... Raising baby chicks

Not spending Christmas w/family........... Spending Thanksgiving w/family

Sweetie losing good job........... Sweetie getting a good job

Summer with low cash reserves........... Sweetie getting back unemployment cash

Allergies............ Drugs

Depression........... Drugs

Beer............ Beer

Truncated vacation to NM........... Coming home

Bush............ Obama

Evil renters........... Evicting evil renters

Going to small claims court............ Judge Davis

Crazy Neighbor Josh............ Crazy Neighbor Josh

Bad acquaintances............ Nancy, Ricky, Nancy, Dara Bob, Betty Bob, Scott, John O, etc.





Thank you all for reading me and commenting, I love and appreciate all of you.

May 2010 be better for everyone!

Learn English at Home, in Your Spare Time!

For what it's worth, if I hear one more person in the media describe something as The Perfect Storm, simply because they cannot come up with some other phrase that means a fucking clusterfuck, I will….I will…..

get angry and grump and blog about it.

Keep Left

There are times that I love living here in the hinterlands of Republicanland.

When I came home from errands in town today, I saw a white bunny at the neighbor's house across from the post office. There were chickens on the left in my yard and in the alley, and five other bunnies in the grass in front of my house. Two cats awaited me, in their different lookout locations. Princess was in the car.

People slow down to look at my creatures, my pets, my children by eckstension. I would slow down to see such a sight at someone else's house. Wouldn't you?

The solstice has come, and daylight will be 6 seconds longer today. It was sunny most of this day, although with a haze. I am still not in love with much of anything, and play solitaire a lot, but there is hope.

And people, uneckspected people, read my blogs, and that makes me happy! I am sorry to not comment on anyone's blog lately, even though I read every post, and write answers in my head.

I slog onwards toward mid-January, the July of Winter - the real cold and colder of the sesaon. I think that something will, must, change, but I dread the change. I am not talking about seasons.

Little Brother had invited me to Ohio for Satyrday, and if weather permits, I will go.

The more you spend, the more you save.

I couldn't have said it better myself. Go and read this from Praying to Darwin.

Press any key

Length Of Visible Light: 10h 30m
Length of Day 9h 31m

Tomorrow will be 2s shorter.

I Love Those Balls

Are you a Communist?

Paid in Full

This is a wonderful website! It will keep you entertained for years, possibly.

This little short film means something to me in several different ways. First, I love the black and grey gloom of the mise en scene, and the constant surround of negative people. (Life here in Laconia, with our sour, dour farmer folk.) Secondly, I like the reminders of the real austerity and rationing that went on in great Britain after World War II, long after life here in the US rebounded almost immediately. Thirdly, though, it makes me sad that we Americans are mostly not touched one little bit by the two wars we waging, unless one has someone in the military serving over there.

I despise the orgy of Christmas. Sorry, but I do. Not the idea of the holiday, if that is your thing, but the crass consumerism of it all. It makes me sad.

Recycle

First, Sweetie gave me asthma. Then psoriasis. And now, his Whereinhellisit syndrome. You know, the one where you are looking straight at something, yet cannot see it?

This happens all the time here at Chez Fur. Car keys, wallets, important papers, cars in parking lots, that thing I just had a minute ago, ear plugs, and now, eye glasses. I have been the triumphant Finder of Lost Things for our entire relationship. I mocked him unmercifully.

But now? I have this disease and I can't find anything, either. Oh, I can still find his things, I just can't find my things.

I mean, I know the drill with his lost stuff. It's either in the bathroom, in his last worn pants or coat, on the kitchen table under something, or near that big RV.

So far, still lost is a dress. A whole dress. This morning? A bottle of medicine for the bunnies. Look, seek, look on top of, search, straighten up, look behind, look under, think. And repeat.

I don't have a Finder Goddess of my own, so I'm fucked.

Guess I'll play solitaire.

Invalid Password

Lady Euphoria, I am sorry to not play vacation, but that is something beyond me right now.

Right now? I am playing hand after hand of solitaire online, the Klondike version, in order to make the time just pass.

I used to do this with a real pack of cards when I was a kid, and I must have played ten thousand hands. To pass the time.

I tried to ecksplain depression yesterday so someone who does not suffer from it. It's hard. It's hard when one's disease is internal and not based upon one's status or belongings or needs. I have everything I want and need. Yet, I still... I am so tired of life. It is so hard to merely get up from the couch. If I didn't have my creatures, and my spinning dates, I just might not ever get up.

It's been difficult. But it is a disease, just as real as diabetes or asthma or cancer.

But I'm hangin' in there, passing time.

Today, I washed dishes, did three loads of laundry, went to the bank and recycled. For me? An accomplishment! I'll make chili tonight and play solitaire until seven thirty, when I can go to bed.

Tomorrow?

Solitaire.

Stay in Lane

I got nuthin'.

It has been cold, below freezing, and gray. Today? It's cold, above freezing, and gray. Plus drizzling.

There are no dead animals to report. Chickens, rabbits, cats, and dog are all alive.

There is no Christmas news, as I don't celebrate that holiday. I do need to bring something green into the house, though.

I've posted some photos over at Back Roads Harrison County.

I'm depressed and weary.

You know, all the usual December stuff.

These are photos of the front moving through last Wednesday, bringing in the freezing temperatures.








This field is just south of us. The house in the distance belongs to Danny Boone. Yes, he is a descendent of that Daniel Boone. Our town was platted by Dan'l's brother, Squire Boone in 1816 and I live in Boone Township.

(An interesting tidbit of history. The town was originally divided into four parcels, [intersecting where the 4-way stop is now,] and each lot was owned by a William Something.)

Soon, there will be another Habitat for Humanity house built neckts door, in that field.

I am imagining that my view from the kitchen window will change.

Hot Plate!

Not Responsible for Items Left in Vehicle.

There was our first snow on the ground this morning! Not much, a mere dusting, but still ~ I liked seeing it.

And it is about time, as it is well into December.

The temps are just above freezing again, so tending the barn bunnies will be more comfortable. When it gets really cold, their water bottles/crocks freeze solid, and without water, bunnies won't eat. When it gets very cold, I take a bucket and a big jug of hot tap water out there. I thaw the bottles/crocks in the bucket and then fill them up from the jug. I wear rubber gloves to keep my hands from becoming finger-cicles. So far, they are all doing well, but there is more coldness in store for later in the week. Angoras take the cold better that they do the heat of summer.

I went to the Friendship SpinnersRetreat at Shakertown (Pleasant Hill, KY) this past Saturday. It was wonderful to see such a turnout there, larger than I have seen in the last few years. I wore the fresh-from-the-oven Artisan Vest.



The metal buttons are from a denim dress that I bought at a thrift store in Springfield, MO earlier this year. (Remember my truncated vacation?) I like this vest very much. It is the perfect around-the-house, keep-me-warm garment that is also well-suited to public viewing.



My gauge tightened up somewhat about a quarter of the way through it, which worked out okay. It is a bit scant in the bust area, but a better blocking should eliminate the gappage that occurred upon first wearing, (which didn't look awful, but rather, artful.) I mean really, I blocked it Friday night, and sewed on the buttons Saturday morning - and it looked damn good. It hits me knuckle length, which for my size, is perfect.

Thank you Lynne for the bread/cake. Sweetie inhaled almost all of it immediately when I got home, but I did get a taste. Yum.

Thank you, NancyNeverSwept for the handwoven towel in those wonderful colors of turquoise/black/hot pink. I love it! Congratulations on achieving Crone-hood!

I was totally remiss in gift giving this year. But to be honest, it was about all I could to do forklift my ass out of the house and actually attend the meeting. My isolating tendencies hold sway especially during these dark, cold months. I don't do holidays of any sort very well. I love this post from Bizarro, as he pretty much echos my feelings about the commercialization of Ecksmas.

Last year, I sent out hand-made Bunny Pop-Up holiday cards, and I hope to maybe, possibly, do something similar this year. Just don't hold yer breath.

Only 40 calories!

So.

My van has been "borrowed" since Saturday, and I needed, really needed, to ship those windows back to Home Depot, for which the van was required to haul said windows to a FedEcks drop off site. (By the way, the Home Depot customer service people have just been super. Thank you!)

The van was in my driveway this morning, and if it hadn't been, someone (Crazy Neighbor Josh) would have been called in for Grand Theft Auto. The real thing, not the game. I got the key back, and began the short journey to Brandenburg and....

ran out of gas four miles from home.

I will spare you the rant about returning someone's vehicle with mere droplets of fuel in the system. I will spare you the profusely spoken swear words. Mostly. Damn it! MotherFucker!

Fortunately, I bottomed out near the house of a person that I actually knew, who drove me back to town to get five gallons of gas, and then drove me back to my van. Thank you, Darryl! My best to Corinne.

This has been about the least of my troubles this week. It has been gray and dreary, and it is finally, actually, for reals, getting chilly. Therefore, depression has been my constant companion, along with general sick-feelings and balloon-headedness. I feel awful and should be the invalid character in some tragic Victorian novel who has a sad end, due to unsaid words of love, or a lost letter, an unknown inheritance, or some such crap. How goth.

Okay. Critter news. The two chickens in the barn finally discovered the windows and flew the coop yesterday. I still have not put up netting in the backyard enclosure. See above.

Silky, who had been ailing, died this morning. I had heard that liquid benadryl would help the process of dying, and so when I found him prone in his cage, I gave him two syringes of the cherry flavored. I don't know if it was that or what, but he quit breathing shortly thereafter. If it did work, it was so much less violent that a bullet. Bless his heart.

There are only 24 angoras in the barn now. I bred Sonya to Harvey last month, two young and healthy kids, and hope to have babies about mid-December.

Love you all, my few and scant readers.

Oh, here is something for anyone over 47.

Itch Relief

I'm home, safe and fairly sound, from the trip north. My three brothers were there, with assorted in laws and a couple of teenage kids. I had a great time!

Everyone was glad to see me and I was glad to see all of them. We played eucher and Aggravation and laughed and ate.

The trip turned bleak, though, when the car lost power on the drive home and just quit. I was able to pull off to the side of Interstate 69, but not far enough to avoid the jostling effect of tractor trailers as they passed. Phone calls were made, a tow truck called (thank you, Harry,) an alternator installed, and I made it home $350 poorer and four hours later than planned.

Sweetie was nowhere to be found, having apparently heard me say that I would be home at 9, instead of what I actually said, which was 7:30. I know, the two numbers sound just alike, don't they? Also, Crazy Neighbor had put up an artificial christmas tree on top of the rabbit cage in the living room. I hate artificial trees.

I had so wanted to be home that night, and it was like being in the twilight zone, and no, not the vampire twilight. That might at least have been interesting. So, I went to bed, grumpy and tired and out of sorts.

I'm better now.

Dinner Meeting Reminder

In the past, "with family" was where I never wanted to be for any holiday, because it always dredged up sadness, hurtful memories, feelings of loss, and tears.

But a friend told me that I should go and be with my family. The friend spoke dispassionately, as he had no idea what was in my head. I merely said that my brother had invited me up for Thanksgiving, and I wasn't sure if I would go or not. Go, he said.

So, I am heading to northern Indiana tomorrow, by myself, and will come home Friday afternoon. It's a five hour trip, one way. Sweetie will stay home to take care of the critters - and sleep. He has four days off, and will mostly likely stay in his jammies the entire time.

Speaking of critters, we lost another banty hen today, and almost lost a rooster. I heard him make his "warning" cackle, and I took off out the door and saw a strange dog carrying him off. I was sure he was dead, because when the dog dropped him, Roostie was motionless, face down in the grass. I picked him up, and lo! his eyes flickered open but he was panting, grasping for breath, and his comb and wattles were purple-ish. The offending dog, with collar, had high-tailed it out of there, so I carried the chicken inside where he panted and rasped for a good two hours. I think he must have been in shock, but his color gradually returned and his breathing became normal. He even ate a little bit.

Tonight, he and the remaining banty hen are cooped up. This weekend, I will try to put some netting over the enclosure to keep them in. Should have done it long ago.

Had court this morning, too, for the damages/back rent but the evil renter called at 8 am to ask if we could just settle and call it even. We did. It's over. That's all I can say. I'm not happy, but it is over.

I will return ship the windows Friday. I will have to pay shipping charges, and maybe a re-stocking fee, and I will have learned an eckpensive lesson. (My keyboard is screwy and will not make the letter ecks.)(The command key is also not working.)

Anyway.

Enjoy your holiday, folks, and be truly thankful.

Turn to the Right

Ten hours and fifty minutes. That is the amount of actual daylight we have here in southern Indiana today. Dawn and twilight eat up an hour of that time. One more month and daylight will win out again. Yay, Solstice!

So. I am a dumbass.

I ordered replacement windows for the rental from Home Depot, and I measured wrong. One inch too wide. Damn it. The service from HD was great, no fault on their part, but now I am facing shipping back the over large windows via FedEx, because I cannot take them back to a real store.

I am beginning to think that I will merely repair said windows, not replace, and call it a lifetime. I am running short of money to fix up that place.

The repair is mostly replacing missing and broken panes. The energy savings replacements will just have to wait.

In the meantime, I have been clipping bunnies. This is Spike.




Grumpy, Jr. passed last week. As has Kelly Bob. And now, Icky Thump is ailing something awful.

It seems that, every year about this time, I lose three or four buns. I try to learn and prepare, but, still... when one has livestock, one has deadstock, too.

Two hens have been taken by predators of some sort (hawks?), and I tried to corral them all into the barn with the bunnies. Ha! I never could catch one of the roosters, and the two banty hens flew out of the windows to join him. So now, I have one rooster and Miss Biddy in the barn, and the other rooster and his two hens are loose. But wary.

I am at least glad to have separated the roosters, who have been fiercely fighting one another, drawing blood and everything.

The Artisan Vest progresses.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Shaun the Sheep.

Close Box Before Striking

From The Daily Bitch.

Just Like Mom Used to Make!

Saturday was Market Day for the Friendship Spinners, and Fuzzarelly went. Seemed like forever since I had been to a meeting, and it was good to see all my friends there. I took my new blend called Bunny Luscious, which is 80% prime white angora and 20% fine, undyed merino. I sold a few things, even.

Then I bought 20 fleeces.

Raw Lincoln and Wensleydale fleeces.



It made me happy and didn't cost very much on a per fleece basis. I have been All Angora All the Time for so long, that I was getting sick of fuzz and sick of rabbits and sick of drumcarding. I know! Not good! I needed to do something different, and this was it.

Many of them are dark, and so I am thinking about actualizing my idea for Baaad Bunny, a dark sheep wool and brightly colored angora mix. I carded a 50/50 blend yesterday and spun up about 8 ounces, and it is drying now. I am curious as to how the two inelastic fibers will knit up. The yarn, (I used white wool and white angora,) is lustrous and strong and would be good for lace, I'm thinking.

The Handsome Shawl is languishing again. I think I just don't like the dusty mauve colors or something, but since I need want to have it finished by April, I will have to gird my loins and grit my teeth and just do it.

The socks also languish. They are at heel flap stage.



This garment, though, is in my hands a lot. It is the Artisan Vest from the Green Mountain Spinnery book. The yarns are almost all Knit Picks worsted wool. I found them in my large bag of mostly handspun, and these were leftover skeins from a couple of different projects, along with a bunch of natural dyed and fairly unattractive ones. I overdyed them all with fuchsia and black, so they harmonize nicely.



Listen, I even swatched! My gauge worked out to be 17 X 26, over four inches, and the pattern gauge is 20 X 28, so I re-figgered the math and cast on Sunday evening. I am psyched!

And for no particular reason, this is what hangs over the couch - my art quilt, Morwen Mede, and the whatnot shelf.

For all your chainsaw needs.

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I have been busy. And sick with allergies, it being harvest time and all. I'm wishing it would rain, to cleanse the air, but none is forecast until next week. Hurricane Ida completely missed us.

From the recently dyed yarn, I began another pair of socks. It's hard to see, but there is a zig-zag pattern in moss stitch going on there. I am getting close to heel time, and may do the flap in moss stitch, too. Or eye of partridge.



Work on the rental house is underway.



My handyman, Josh, has torn out the nasty carpet and pads, and is working on removing all the staples from the hardwood floors. One of the front rooms was revealed to have this cool log-cabin-type floor! The center boards are normal and parallel, but four feet of the edges look like this.




The outbuilding was full of trash bags of dirty Pampers and empty beer cans - how incredibly nasty. And depressing. Three of the four doors have been replaced, and I am ordering 6 replacement windows from Home Depot today. (They have free delivery! plus an easy-to-navigate website. Not Loew's, though. They don't even show prices. Not with it, guys.) This is some of the artwork left behind.



Yesterday, the roof got painted. Once the windows are installed, there is painting to be done top to bottom inside, plus stick-on tile flooring in the kitchen. The list just goes on. And on. But Josh is a hard worker, if a bit ADD and spazzy and loud.

As for me, I am still sober and except for the allergies, doing well. Sweetie is working crazy-ass hours, and the assorted critters keep doing their crittery things; wool, eggs, shedding....

Press Return

Chicken Portraits.

There are also bunny photos.

Staying in Touch is Easy!

Knitting at Walter Reed Hospital.

Buy More, Save More

Yesterday, Miss Biddy decided to come into the house and investigate the kitchen. She cracks me up. Nobody here but us chickens.



I also dyed some superwash yarn, because now that I finished that pinkish pair, my fingers are restless. This is from Kraemer Yarns, and was spun in Nazareth, PA.



I used Hot Fuchsia, Black, and Gun Metal Jacquard dyes to get this yummy colorway.




And these 34 batts are going to The Spinning Bunny.

Buy Now, Don't Pay for 90 Days

Alright, Helena, here are the socks, along with The Handsome Shawl, in progress. I used the common heel, which does not involve turning, but rather kitchenering, because it is more durable. Heels are where I wear my socks out first, every single time. The shawl is maybe 2/3s done.



Princess loves surveying her domain from my knitting chair, when I am not in it.



This is Steve, fuzzy in more ways than one. I don't clip him because 1) I probably couldn't catch him, ii) He appears to shed as needed, and C) it protects him from Smoky attacks.




A study in Feathers and Leaves.

Registered Certificate

K sent me an email berating me for leaving you all in the lurch about my well being. Sorry, K!

Two weeks sober today, and feeling much better, thank you very much. Not depressed. The down side is that, like many writers, alcohol was my Muse, the lubricant that allowed my fingers to fly across the keyboard, and without it, I feel rather dull and uninspired. Hence, no posts.

I want to thank every single person who has sent me good wishes, especially Judy in Atlanta, who witnessed my first sobriety 21 years ago and assured me that I could do it again.

I have been knitting, and finished the rose colored socks last night. They are just plain vanilla, not photo worthy. And this morning, I picked up the Handsome Shawl from Victorian Knits Today that I haven't touched in weeks.

I have also been getting up at 4freakingthirty every morning, in order to get Sweetie off to the Glorious Job. Because we have plenty of eggs, he gets french toast every morning and sometimes fried egg sandwiches for lunch. Sometimes I go back to sleep for an hour or two, and sometimes I stay up.

With Sweetie gone, I am able to clean the house and it stays clean for more than ten minutes. I even oiled the living room furniture! All the little piles of stuff have been being sorted and reallocated to either its proper place or the trash.

I baked bread!

I have also been reading lots of stuff online. I don't know if every computer can do this, but my iMac  can be set to read text in a variety of voices. This is great for catching up on blogs, email, and also web sites. It allows me to listen and knit simultaneously, which is why those socks got finished.

I found a fascinating site that deals with the flip side of AA, the cult aspect of it, and have read (listened to) dozen of pages there. I am not powerless, and I do not believe in a personal god, and so, AA is problematic for me at the very least. I am the Problem Child in the AA chat room, but I am rather enjoying being a bit of a rabble rouser, which is so unlike me! What that means, I am not sure, except that maybe I feel secure in my beliefs.

I have lost some bunnies in the last month, which is sad making. Louise was Fuzzarelly's last remaining baby, and at five and a half years, she was at the age that many angoras die. Louise was a bitch, never my favorite, but it was still sad - and end of an era, in a way. I still have Fuzzarelly's brother, FuzzyBob, though. Another angora bunny just up and died, and two of the little babies died, too. I still have Tootsie and Jack (named for Jack White, of the White Stripes,) and they are fat little fellas.

Apply to affected area.

I am here and doing well. Really!

I have been busy this past week taking care of myself and not drinking. Without the alcohol to rinse the anti-depressant out of my system, it appears to be doing its job much better. Sober and happy, that's me.

Good news, too. Sweetie had a phone hearing with the the judge and his previous (evil) employer Wednesday, and we both were on tenterhooks awaiting the outcome. He received a letter Friday saying that the denial decision was reversed, and that his benefits were reinstated back to May 2!

The Evil Company does have 18 days to appeal that verdict, as would have Sweetie, if he had still been denied, so we are not out of the woods yet. But the mood around here is hopeful, and when/if he does get those benefits, it will all come in one lump sum.

(By the way, the Evil Company is a subsidiary of Snyder's of Hanover, so, don't eat their pretzels. As a favor to me.)

In other news of this past week, Crazy Neighbor the Instigator and his friend painted our barn roof with aluminum paint. Long story short, Evil Neighbor's friends got some spray over specks of paint on their piece-of-shit vehicles because they were too stupid to move them even when alerted. One called the sheriff to file a report about the "damage" to his vehicle, after he ascertained that I had homeowner's insurance, and he filed a claim.

Here is his paint damaged van.



I spoke to the adjustor yesterday, and their claim will be denied. She told me, as an aside, that if it had been either of us, we would have just said, "Oh, well," and gone on about our business. Bad luck, bone headed move, whatever.

The roof looks great, though!

Objects in mirror...

Millie helps with the baby bunnies.

Your results may vary.

Thank you, everybody. I am depressed, there is no getting around that, but some of you will know that my real demon is drinking.

Yesterday, I drank every beer in the house, all three cans, by ten a.m. then had a shot of brandy. I didn't even feel buzzed. Then I alternately solved sudoku puzzles and slept the rest of the day.

I'm slowly killing myself with alcohol. It is causing a few health issues that I am too afraid of even saying aloud or writing down.

The universe gave me a dope slap up side my head this past week, and I have been struggling against the truth of it.

I don't want to stop drinking because it makes me feel normal and I can't get through the day without it. Drinking deadens the pain in my life.

I can't keep drinking because, um... because, it makes me stupid and fat and depressed. And it's killing me. I'm beginning to not want to die. Fuck.

I really don't want to start going to meetings again. I struggle. I isolate.

It was about this bad when I first went to AA. It was Easter Sunday, and as I drove up to the noon meeting at the Dogwood Club, I saw several grizzled and haggard creatures lounging outside. I almost kept on driving, but didn't.

There were maybe 15 people inside, and they held a special first step meeting just for me, and I didn't take another drink for 16 years after that day. Goddamn it, I don't want to have to go through all of that again.

But I have to stop drinking. I have to stop killing myself. I have to stop acting in a reckless and criminal manner.

Please, you all, send me your love. I'm gonna need it.

Take as directed.

The nine signs of depression, according to WebMD. If one answers yes to at least five questions, look out.

A depressed mood during most of the day, particularly in the morning.
Lately, yes.

Fatigue or loss of energy almost every day.
Yes.

Feelings of worthlessness or guilt almost every day.
Yes.

Impaired concentration, indecisiveness.
Yes.

Insomnia or hypersomnia (excessive sleeping) almost every day.
Not so much.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in almost all activities nearly every day.
Yes.

Recurring thoughts of death or suicide (not just fearing death.)
I am not fearing death, nor contemplating it.

A sense of restlessness -- known as psychomotor agitation -- or being slowed down -- retardation.
Yes, retardation.

Significant weight loss or gain (a change of more than 5% of body weight in a month.)
No. I wish I could say weight loss.

And don't forget to figure in the drinking. A woman is considered to have a problem if she has more than three drinks at a time. Hell, I'm just getting started at three.

So, what to do?

Part of me is screaming out for help, and part of me doesn't want to make any effort. At all. But putting this out here on the blog is a start. I don't have any insurance right now, so that sort of help, therapy, more drugs, rehab, is out of the question.

Today and tomorrow is the fiber festival, and, apparently, I am not going to make it. At all. Sorry to everyone that was counting on me to be there. I hurt and I ache, and I can't bear the thought of being among people. I feel totally overwhelmed.

May Make You Cry.

Imagine.

Costumes for Sale!

Also offered on Louisville craigslist.

This is Sweetie in a fantastic vampire cape, made of purple/black heavy weight satin taffeta. The hem circumference measutes 30 feet! Stand up collar, to frame your lovely face. Neck medallion included, but not shown. Sweetie is six foot tall. $50 plus shipping.





This is yours truly, with dyed black hair, in an Elvirus Costume. Washable! Black stretch panne velvet, with bust pads. Fits size 12/14, 5'5" person. Very sexy! I am older and fluffier and will never wear again. $20 plus shipping.

Your Monday Morning Chuckle

The Day After Celebrate Laconia, 2009

Sweetie and Haliegh.



Me and Sweetie.



Our favorite Crazy Neighbor, aka The Instigator.



With his 11 year old daughter.



Haliegh and Brianna with their new bunnies.

Not an Application.

I had a little incident yesterday, call it a wake-up call if you will, that showed me I should up my Enthusiastimine™ dosage.

One of the Three Hateful Trolls that took great delight in tormenting me several years back made a remark to me that would sound harmless if taken at face value, and if it had come from just about anyone else. I was walking Princess, and halfway through the route, it began to rain. This Hateful Troll took the opportunity to drive, not down the street and avoid me, but down the alley I was in, causing me to step off into someone's yard to let him pass. I had no intention of engaging with him in any manner at all, so I stood there in the rain, and turned my back to him, hoping he would just pass. But no, he had stop, roll down his window, and tell me, "That dog of yours is gonna get you wet," before he drove on.

I know. Sounds benign.

One of the previous remarks he made to me, about six years ago, was, "I sure am glad that I have property for your dogs to shit on." If he has opened his mouth within my hearing, ever, it has been to spew vitriol at someone or something. Another time, he deliberately rutted my yard behind the barn after I wrote a letter to the editor defending his contribution to our community, despite the fact that he has two junk yards in town where he just keeps stuff. (He was a volunteer fireman, secretary of the water company, and general mechanic.) He's also a crazy ass hoarder, one of those people one reads about being crushed to death by newspapers in their own home, (one can only hope.) I have always tried to avoid him. But now, with Princess, I am back to dog-walking and being out and about the town and feeling vulnerable. Very vulnerable.

I'm not afraid of him. I know I could take him in a fair fight, but he is the type that doesn't play fair. He's an evil-tempered bully with a persecution complex.

He made me mad yesterday and I had no outlet for that anger, having never learned how to deal with anger in an appropriate manner. He made me cry and with all my heart, I wished to be gone from this town. If I had been a guy, or some other girl, I would have said, "Yeah, fuck you, asshole." But I'm not a guy and I'm not another girl, and I have tried that sort of thing with the Trolls, and I knew if I said, for example, "Shut the fuck up, Maurice, and get the hell out of the street," that the whole episode would have escalated into something I don't need to deal with. I got mad, went home, told a friend who didn't really understand all the backstory, and I cried a little bit.

So, upon reflection, I remembered that there is less daylight these days, and there will be even less sunshine in the next few months, and I remembered that I get into a blue funk this time of year, every year, like clockwork.

Time for more drugs.

Receipt is Acknowledged.

Sweetie is still employed, although the company is so new that they have no refrigerator or microwave, and he thought it prudent to bring in a roll of toilet paper when he didn't see a reserve supply.

Yesterday, they handed him a beverage cooler with two outlets in it, and told him to install them. "Where? And to what wires? I can do wiring, but I need wires first."

He seems to be thriving in that environment, though, and I am likewise doing quite well. Imagine my Enormous Grin.

What I love best about him working is the quiet here in the house. (Well, the money is technically in first place.) Not silence, because there is that mockingbird on the chimney, a little traffic noise, the roosters, high flying jets, the breeze rustling the brittle leaves, a distant dog barking, the indoor rabbits licking their water bottles, and the electric hum that seems to always always in my head. But it is quiet.

My body and my brain are happy.

Like Knitting Linguist wrote in comments, How can I miss you if you never leave?

I am not to the point yet of missing him, but that will come with time.

Not For Ophthalmic Use.

Fabulous Monday!

As much as loved having Sweetie home after he was fired at the end of April? I love it, and him, more now that he is back working at a real live job. First shift? I don't care. I actually am a morning person, and I like going to bed early.

Already today, this morning, I have done more than in the past week. Also? I can drive and take pictures for my other blog.

I am so happy! Plus, we now get a weekly paycheck. Which is important, because we cannot count on his getting back unemployment compensation, no matter how good his case. It is the judge's call, and the hearing isn't until October 21st. Rat bastards.

I have updated my stuff to read sidebar, and I steal this from Bizzaro Blog, my new favorite read feed.

Here are a few of my followers. Thank you all.




And, this this sweet thing, too.

Your Home Town Agent

I am of an age that I took Home Economics in seventh and eighth grades. My teachers pretty much hated me because I was such a bored wise ass and I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

One of the things that we girls (there were only girls in Home Ec back then,) were taught was Egg Safety which mostly consisted of breaking each egg separately into a cup before adding to the recipe. I thought it was the stupidest, most time wasting thing I had ever heard of. Eggs came from the store, and they were never bad. Jeesh.

Now, I have chickens. Five hens that mostly lay their eggs in the chicken tractor/coop and I collect them daily. (Thank you, hens!)

I finally got around to weed whacking today, since Sweetie hasn't had the time, (ahem) and I found a cache of seventeen large brown eggs from my two big girls. I had no idea how old they were, but I was loathe to just throw them out. I mean, seventeen eggs! Really. A shame to waste all that protein.

But were they still good? That was when that 1971 home ec lesson came home to roost, so to speak. I cracked open the oldest looking ones, the ones that had been at the bottom of the pile, one by one into a little cup. And they were all good.

My apologies to those hateful teachers. Even a blind nut finds a squirrel once in awhile.

We are eating a late lunch of eggs today.

Handle With Care

Look at that little baby! So tiny! So fuzzy! So cute!

And the bunny isn't bad looking, either.

May Cause Spasms in Legs.

It's Good News Thursday!

First, I discovered seven baby bunnies outside - seven tiny and fluffy bits of loveliness that seem to have both angora genes from Steve and dwarf genes from Smoky via Claudia. I captured them, way way too easily, and will keep them safe inside for three or four weeks. Right now, they are bite sized snacks for any and all predators. Bunny McNuggets. They are so absolutely adorable.

And Sweetie? He got himself a JOB and he starts Monday! It seems to be a good job, too, doing the maintenance mechanic thing at a paper recycling company in Louisville. At a pay scale of about what he had been making, and, with insurance. Yippee and Yay! Fuzzarelly gets her house back!

I picked up three adult angora bunnies from Brigitte Guffey yesterday, who is downsizing her animal operation in order to focus more on the fiber mill. She and her husband John will have a booth at the Southern Indiana FiberArts Festival October 16 and 17.

Finally, and I do mean finally, at long last, our Evil Renter has moved out. Court date was yesterday, and I have to say that I really respect and love our Judge Davis. The room was packed with people, but he methodically went through every case and got to the heart of each one in record time. He didn't put up with bullshit from anybody, and with evictions? There is a lot of bullshit flung about. Our case was heard, Evil Renter was there, facts were stated and so the judge asked if both parties would settle and call it even. We said we would, but the Evil Renter said no, he wanted to fight us. The judge was taken aback, but whatever, another court date was set for November to thrash it out.

And I just got an order from The Woolery for more Bunny & The Beast!

No refridgaration needed.

It was almost funny. I arrived home this afternoon with three new bunnies and the doors were unusually locked! At my house! I know, as if I lived in the city or something. Front doors and back doors, all.

My key? Inside the house.

I did what I usually do; broke in through the front window. Nothing broken, actually, but just a bit of work with a screwdriver.

Don't tell anybody about this trick, though.

And now ---CHICKENS!

Employment Opportunities

The 8th annual Blogger Boobie-Thon will be October 1-7, which is only a week away! October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and the Boobie-Thon kicks it off in with a bang. Bloggers from all over send in picture of their boobs (and you can submit yours now). Then during the Boobie-Thon, everyone is invited to look at them! The dressed breasts will be on the front page, and for $50, you can see bare blogger boobs. Of course, the money is important, as it goes to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, with the exception of $359 which goes to a blogger in need. If it’s not worth $50 to save lives, maybe it will be worth that much to see your favorite blogger’s boobs in the buff. Of course, if you are so inspired, you can send in a smaller -or larger- amount. So take a picture of your breasts, and remember your face won’t be shown, so you can be as free or creative as you like, send it in and tell everyone about the Boobiethon!

Valid through September 20

Those little Killer Dogs? Not run over in the street, after all. They were taken in by one of our local Rescue Rangers, which means they will be fed, neutered, and adopted out to good homes.

Roostie? He is fine and as cocky as ever. heh heh

The red hens keep layin'. The egg on the right is a huge double yolker.



Autumn is here, all of a sudden it seems. So unexpectedly, it gets dark early of an evening. The daylight hours and the dark hours are almost even. I always look forward to fall, because it means that the worst of summer is over. Summer, with its heat, humidity (it's not the heat, it's the stupidity,) and mosquitos.

For photos, go here.

For recreational use only.

I have been knitting, if only little bit and sporadically. The shawl reincarnation slowly grows, with fewer mistakes since a large-area chart was printed. (Re-intarnation is when one returns as a hillbilly, by the way.)

On the aborted vacation, I cast on a pair of plain socks out of the pinkish sea cel/merino (at least I think that is what it's made from, as I have chronic CRS.) The socks also grow slowly.

Eeyore and Roostie have both recovered. I released Eeyore from his cage in the back yard yesterday, since the chickens only seem to go there at night anymore, and he promptly attacked Heizen. Sigh. Back in the cage, bubba, if you can't play nice.

I lost a barn bunny whilst I was at the Brothers'. It was Kelly Bob, the one with the tumor that I had excised three different times. I knew she was ailing, and was not surprised. I think her highly inbred line was more the cause than anything else. All the others are fine.

The Southern Indiana FiberArts Festival is coming up shortly and this will be the FIFTH year! If you are anywhere in the region, try to make plans and visit, because it has grown into a two day event with 65+ vendors, music, animals, classes, demos, and all the usual fibery goodness that we have come to expect. Victoria and her minions have done a superb job on this event, always.

Fuzzarelly will be there, too.

Immensely Satisfying

Back again, this time from the wilds of the north. Northern Indiana and Ohio, that is.

One of the more interesting events was attending a dance with second eldest brother. Now, where said brother learned to dance so well, I can not say. All I know is that he always has been able to swivel those hips and slide those feets, even on roller skates.

So, he takes me to a dance but didn't tell me that it was a SINGLES dance. Rat Bastard.

Here we are, just before leaving. Like that lamp growing out of my head?



It was a fairly large gathering in Angola, Indiana at the American Legion hall. We arrived early, and I was able to observe, as if I were an anthropologist visiting the natives of some scandinavian village, a line dancing class. At first, I was amused - I mean, what is it about moving in unison that white people like so much........

Wait a minute, I thought, it's the same reason that I loved marching band - to be a part of a larger whole, a community. Also? It was fun. Dorky? No doubt, but fun. And these people, the serious-faced, the smiling, the beginners, the agile, and the flat-footed were having fun being part of a group. Without being laughed at.

As I sat there, I compared it to folk dancing in Europe in the last century, and to ballroom dancing in the 19th century. One learned the moves in order to participate, and one moved just like every one else, in unison. The more in unison, the better. One danced to be social, to celebrate, to mingle and meet, to maybe get a chance to get close to that handsome man or beautiful woman.

So, I danced, too. Not line dancing, because I am retarded and can't follow direction, but I slow danced several times and again, my inner anthropologist kicked in and I became an observer. One fellow had come from Akron, Ohio (!) (apparently not uncommon,) and was a little socially awkward. I asked him what he did, and discovered that was a data programmer. Ahh, I diagnosed, Asperger's syndrome. Over the evening, he must have danced with twenty different partners, so good for him, I thought.

Then there was something akin to The Grand March, in which the women lined up along one side of the room, and the men along the other, and the head of each line then met and danced in the middle, down to the tail of the line. It was considered poor form to step out of line if one did not care for one's upcoming partner. I found it to be a lot of fun and, if one were actually single, a great way to meet people.

My brother was extremely popular, and I found him to be more gracious than I could ever have imagined, as he danced with so many different women - the good, the bad, the plain, and the pretty.

The Gift That Lasts

I am at my eldest brother's house in way north Indiana. The weather is beautiful and it smells like the first whiff of autumn in the air.

Yesterday, I visited an old high school friend in Huntington, and drove by my old high school, home of the Fighting Vikings. I was class of '75. So very long ago.

Tonight, I have a date with second eldest brother to go the the American Legion. Living on the edge. Tomorrow, it is Ohio to see little brother, who is almost 42, so really not so little, and then home on Monday.

A Full Family Weekend!

Please Pay This Amount

The neighborhood girls.



Sweetie and James confront the van.



Architecture in Springfield, MO






Leaving St. Louis

As the Bunny Spins: Andean Plying

As the Bunny Spins: Andean Plying

As the Bunny Spins: Spin'n Ride Video Demo

As the Bunny Spins: Spin'n Ride Video Demo

Please forward to ten friends

On Sep 14, 2009, at 4:39 PM, Harry Hall, (my brother,) wrote:


THE RULES OF RURAL INDIANA ARE AS FOLLOWS :
Listen up City Slickers !


1. Pull your droopy pants up. You look like an idiot.

Small Town Dweller (Nancy) Answers.....

1. Please button up your overalls. You look like a hick and we don't really need to see your belly.




2. Turn your cap right, your head isn't crooked.

2. Take off that gimmee hat once in awhile, especially in church or in the WalMart parking lot. Your head needs to tan just like your arms and neck.




3. Let's get this straight; it's called a 'dirt road.' I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

3. Please, young buck in the pickup truck, slow down. I don't need to eat your dust.




4. They are cattle. They're live steaks. That's why they smell funny to you. But they smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-70 goes east and west, I-65 goes north and south. Pick one.

4. I love the smell of manure. I call it Country Fresh. Once you get used to it, please stay and get to know us.




5. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed.. We have $150,000 corn pickers and hay balers that are driven only 3 weeks a year.

5. I have a $2000 car, and I will gladly pull over to let your harvester pass. Just give me a little notice. I appreciate that you feed the world.



6. So every person in southern Indiana waves. It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept.

6. We wave, or at least lift a forefinger from the wheel, at everybody. However, you sound rather hostile.



7. If that cell phone rings while an 8-point buck and 3 does are coming in, we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

7. Please don't shoot me, you ignorant hillbilly. Oh, it isn't you that shoots indiscriminately? Must be those crazy city folks. Also, I thought everybody had a cell phone anymore, even farmers.




8. Yeah, we eat taters & gravy, beans & cornbread. You really want sushi & caviar? It's available at the corner bait shop.

8. I like potatoes and gravy, and green beans and cornbread, too. Why are you so angry?




9. The 'Opener' refers to the first day of deer season. It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

9. So that's why there are deer running onto the highway in front of my car on my way to church.




10. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.

10. Thank you. We appreciate it and say so.




11. No, there's no 'vegetarian special' on the menu. Order steak. Or you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham & turkey.

11. Where I eat, there is the meat and 2 vegetables plate, or the 4 vegetable plate. Where do you eat? Is that why you are so overweight?




12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup. Oh, yeah.... We don't care what you folks in Cincinnati call that stuff you eat... IT AIN'T REAL CHILI!!

12. We also like salsa, mustard, and chili powder. We sometimes put spaghetti in our chili, to make it go a little further.




13. You bring 'coke' into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice.

13. Okay, now that we are getting older, I can agree with that.




14. You bring 'Mary Jane' into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

14. Or be a pair of shoes. Also, we like women in all shapes and forms and don't make fun of them if they aren't cute or can't shoot or have short hair.




15. College and High School Football is as important here as the Lakers and the Knicks, and a dang site more fun to watch..

15. We also think that the science fair, chess club, and baseball are fun and are good for our kids.




16. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards -- it spooks the fish.

16. Everybody seems to play golf anymore. Plus, golf courses give the canada geese a good place to poop.




17. Colleges? We have them all over. We have State Universities , Community Colleges, and Vo-techs. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and country, and they still wave at everybody when they come for the holidays.

17. But there still aren't enough places that make a person think for themselves, not just spout propaganda.




18. We have a whole ton of folks in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. So don't mess with us. If you do, you will get whipped by the best.

18. We, too, serve our country. You don't have a lock on that.



19. Turn down that blasted car stereo! That thumpity-thump crap ain't music, anyway. We don't want to hear it anymore than we want to see your boxers. Refer back to #1.

19. Okay. But remember how loud we used to play Led Zeppelin? Back in the day?

20. 4 inches isn't a blizzard - it's a flurry. Drive like you got some sense in it, and DON'T take all our bread, milk, and bleach from the grocery stores. This ain't Alaska , worst case you may have to live a whole day without croissants. The pickups with snow blades will have you out the next day.

20. Four inches of snow on top of ice can be a problem. Stay home or slow down. (Thank goodness this isn't Alaska, as Mitch Daniels is bad enough without having to put up with ex-governor Sarah Palin's shenanigans.) Your neighbors with snowplows on their tractors and pick ups, and the road department, will have the roads and your driveway cleared real quick. Also, your neighbors will clear those downed trees across the roads after a windstorm within hours.

A true Hoosier will send this on!!!

A true hoosier should -

* Be kind to everyone, be generous with their time, and help their neighbors.

* Talk to the old people, allow them drive to slowly and don't honk at them, as it makes them nervous. Remember that, with luck, you too will be old one day and drive slowly.

* Not get irritated at the hay, horse, cattle, pig, or race car trailer in front of you.

I like living in Indiana! There are really good people here.

Half-Price with Coupon

I came home to all healthy and happy animals. Even the injured rooster has healed up nicely. I had put him in a big cage with the other chickens in the barn, because I was afraid the other rooster would pick on him. When I put them all in the back yard, he went first, then the hens, then the other guy, and there was no trouble. Yay! They are all in the yard bug hunting now.

The red hens have been laying for a few weeks now, nice large eggs of two ounces each. Being in the barn must have jolted the banty hens a bit, because they are not brooding anymore, but rather ranging around the yard like the others.

The two little dogs are not to be found. Good Neighbor Nancy heard tires squealing and a bumpbump last Wednesday and says she has not seen them since. I don't actually know what happened, but what a tragedy. The real tragedy, though, is that those people will soon have some other canine or two around, because don't ya know, they just love their dogs. Sigh.

Anyway. I can't control the world.

I saw this great little minivan in the WalMart (Your Place for Cheap Plastic Crap) in Joplin, Missouri, and had to take a picture. Met the owner, who works in movies! She said the fake fur was cheaper than a paint job, and so far it has lasted two years! through rain, snow and going 90 mph.

Riding has never been easier

The transmission exploded just outside of Springfield, Missouri, and we looked like crop dusters on the freeway, what with the huge plume of white smoke that trailed us.

Sweetie had detected a problem with the transmission in Joplin, and after much deliberation, we concluded that the best thing to do was to head back home and add fluid every 100 miles.

It was a good plan.

Sweetie was able to coast up an exit ramp, and a repair shop was located and a wrecker service was called. David towed us to Beetle's Transmission, and then drove us and most of our belongings to a little motel that I called the Ship Wreck, but was actually named the Land Mark, a seedy $25 & Up kind of place that clearly stated NO PETS, but let us stay anyway. Before Dave drove off, he gave us his phone number in case there was trouble about Princess, saying his sister could look after her.

We walked to a nearby U-Haul to rent a vehicle, but Tiny the Manager told us that Enterprise would be cheaper and he called them and helped us make arrangements for them to pick us up. Shortly, a man in a little white Hyundai arrived and he agreed to pick up more things from our van, drop me and Princess at the Ship Wreck, before taking Sweetie back to the Enterprise lot.



I want to give a shout out to everyone we met in Springfield. Everyone that we dealt with was so nice to us, went out of their way to help us, and that made a bad situation bearable. Dave the Wrecker Man, Bob at Beetle's, the Indian Man at the Ship Wreck, Tiny at U-Haul, the Enterprise Driver, and just about every other person that we met, were friendly and helpful and smiling. (Of course, if we had not had money and credit cards with which to pay, we may have had a whole different experience.)

Since we were going to be in town awhile, we explored the area. Springfield, like many midwestern towns, was built on a grid system, so once one learned a few north-south and east-west streets, getting around was a cinch. We drove down College Street, and smack downtown I saw a theatre marquee advertising John Prine in concert for Friday night. I have loved Mr. Prine's music since before I moved to Atlanta, and I own several of his albums, but I had never seen him in concert.

We bought tickets Thursday, center row in the balcony, and dressed up as best as we could, and went. Opening act was singer/songwriter Carrie Rodriques, who played fiddle and guitar. I had never heard her before and thought she was great.




After a 45 minute set, that had started promptly at 8, there was a short intermission as the roadies changed the guitars and amps, and at 9, John Prine and two guitarists came out and rocked the house. His voice is more gravelly now, twelve years after having a tumor removed from his neck, and he seemed a little hoarse at first, but as the evening continued he just got stronger and stronger. He played many old and familiar songs as well and a few I didn't know. He bantered, told little stories, and put on an amazing show that lasted for over two hours.

It was great.

We left for home the next morning. Our great $800 van is now a great $2000 van, and she drove fine and we got home yesterday to all my bunnies, cats, and chickens.

Also. It rained hard in New Mexico. Hard rain in a desert is never a good thing. So, it all sort of worked out in the end.

Half-Price Sale

The Weather in Los Alamos this week

Thursday Night
Partly cloudy with a chance of showers and thunderstorms. Lows in the lower 40s to mid 50s.

Friday
Partly cloudy with a slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the upper 60s to lower 80s.

Friday Night
Partly cloudy with a slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Lows in the lower 40s to mid 50s.

Saturday
Partly cloudy with a slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the 70s to lower 80s.

Saturday Night
Partly cloudy with a slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Lows in the 40s to lower 50s.

Labor Day

And why we should celebrate it.

Feed twice daily.

Well. Damn it.

I'm glad, I reckon, that it happened today and not later in the week. Remember neighbor's little dogs that broke little bunny's leg last week?

This morning, I heard a commotion in the back yard and ran out to find a little dog standing there, with a mouthful of chicken feathers! Dog ran off and I found Roostie, (finally, in some bushes,) sans a chunk of back feathers. I have heard from three different people that the dogs' supposed "owners" don't feed them. So, do you blame the dogs or the owners? Sigh.



So. Now that the little canines know how easy it is to catch chickens, letting the birds have free run of our yard is out of the question. All seven birds are now in the barn loft with the bunnies, where they have a bit of roaming room, but they can't get out. (Eat those flies!) Roostie is segregated from the others, in a cage.

So, like I said, I guess I am glad that it happened today, because I would have hated to have come home to no chickens. But this whole episode? I could have done without.

Damn sons a bitches just don't do right.

The van is as road ready as it's gonna get. I need to pack and load. The critter sitter has been briefed and keyed. Lots of little odds and ends to take care of. We will leave tomorrow for points west and I will try to blog along the way, if I can. I don't have a laptop, so it will be catch and catch can.

Beat for four minutes.

This makes me so nostalgic for my days in marching band! I also wish that Indi-Ucky was this cool.

Keep refrigerated.

I am the most sober person on our property right now, even though I am making a valiant effort to catch up. It is a very weird situation. A neighbor friend came by earlier this afternoon, and he was already lit. After drinking vodka shots with Sweetie, who drank bourbon and seven, our friend passed out on the front porch. Sweetie came inside, tipsy, and has gone to the back room to watch the allies kill the germans, or whatever the history channel is airing. ("Who are we killing today," is my stock question when I wander back there.)

But our pie-eyed friend is in a drunken stupor, railing against someone that has made him very angry, (the world); he is swearing and pounding fists and will not remember a bit of it tomorrow. I can hear him as I sit here. He has many demons to contend with, and I cannot help him. He's on his own.

Me? I have spent the day acquiring 20 bales of timothy hay for the bunnies, which will last them until spring, and also getting them pellets and scratch for the chickens.

Oh, and Miss Biddy and Lady Bird have been laying eggs! Six nice, big brown ones, which we will eat tomorrow for breakfast.

Preparations for the Great Trip West are underway, slowly. (See tipsy Sweetie above.) Grass needs to be cut, but first lawn mower needs to be fixed after he hit a chain cutting Evil Renter's grass last week. Nothing is ever easy around here.

However, the van is Sirius ready and generally road worthy! Yay for that, and the savings in motel rates. I am so much more prepared, and sane, than I was when we took our last trip, three years ago. I was so depressed then that I didn't even pack cold weather clothes, and there was that sudden attack of winter. All I cared about was having Murgatroyd with me. I still miss that guy!

This is what I posted back then.

Anyway, I do feel much more sane these days, and am ready for an adventure. And I have Princess this time, and she loves to travel.