Time to start the Litany of Patron Saints of Crazy Mothers...it's the last FULL day of school, then it's time to start summer vacation. After a short day tomorrow, I will officially start the countdown until the start of the next school year.
Okay, it's not THAT bad. Admittedly, summer is not my favorite season, but that has more to do with the weather. Heat and I don't get along very well. Of the two brothers, Snow Miser is definitely the one I prefer. Wouldn't you know that Global Warming would have to happen in my lifetime. Just my luck! Naturally, this means that the kids clamor to go to the pool EVERY SINGLE DAY. I believe that Rebekah might be part mermaid, and I keep looking for signs that she's growing fins and gills.
I believe in looking at the bright side, though. Our pool is not crowded, and it has a shaded area where I can sit and read in peace. The kids are both good swimmers, the pool has a full-time lifeguard, and from my vantage point, I can still keep an eye on them. I am SO happy that they are no longer so young that I have to stay right beside them the entire time. Life can be good!
In other news, I am seriously considering formally studying Theology. Keep on the lookout for signs of the Apocalypse!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Snake's Alive!
Everyone is accustomed to hearing tales of my Tundra-bred canines, but I am also a fan of the feline furballs, too. We have four of the kitties roaming around our place, and they have definitely clawed a place into our homes and hearts.
Our three girls are Ariel, the grey tabby and matriarch of the feline family, Belle, the clever and capricious calico, and Jasmine, a sweet and loving solid black, long-haired girl. All prefer the "great outdoors" of our cul-de-sac region, and we leave our garage door open several inches so they can seek shelter from the elements and come in for a bite and a drink in between their Great Hunting Expeditions. The fourth member of our Feline Family is Biggles, a white male Persian, who is strictly the indoor type and who often thinks that he is a dog!
Our Girls encounter some crazy wildlife adventures in the Great Outdoors at times. Take the time that a family of birds decided to start their new family in a tree in our front yard. Okay, I don't know much about birds, so I cannot tell you what type they were, but they were FIERCE! So fierce that they intimidated the bejeezus out of poor Ariel. Imagine birds chasing a cat! I swear that it really happened. Over the course of several weeks while these birds nested in our front yard, Ariel's life was a living feline hell. One morning, the darling Czech Pecker walked out front to get into his car, and he saw Ariel in the center of the cul-de-sac, surrounded by a bird on four sides. Every time she tried to escape, the birds would close in on her, trying to peck at her head! Another day around that same time, she was trying to walk from our driveway to our sidewalk leading to the steps up to our porch, and the birds flew from their nest to peck at her while she tried to run into the house! That very weekend, we left town to visit Charleston, and my step-father, Robert, checked on our pets several times a day for us. At one point, he was standing on our front porch, and as he looked down our street, Ariel was running down the street, toward the house, with at least three birds chasing her! Poor kitty made it into the house, terrorized. To this day, we do not allow Alfred Hitchcock films in our house in deference to her.
Needless to say, we have received our share of gifts from The Girls, mainly in the form of field mice. I've learned to graciously accept these gifts and surreptitiously dispose of them at a later time, when the cats are napping or they are off on another hunt. One thing I have learned about cats and mice, though...they only chase and hunt them when THEY want to do it. After cleaning out the garage one day, a displaced field mouse decided to come into our house, into the kitchen. Sitting in my living room reading a book, I glanced up and saw the little bugger making its way nonchalantly across the floor, and I said, "Well, shit fire and save the matches...there's a mouse!" When I tried to send a cat after it, she looked at me as if I had three heads and proceeded to lick her butt. I learned my lesson. Cats only chase mice on their own terms. I don't know what ever happened to that little mouse. It disappeared into the laundry room, never to be seen again. I suspect it disappeared into that Void where the Lost Socks go.
The latest Wildlife Adventure with The Girls happened yesterday. Rebekah came in and said, "Mama, Jasmine is playing with something. It's kind of long and squiggly." I looked at her strangely.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Well, it's bigger than a worm, but it's smaller than a snake."
"What colour is it?"
"It's black. I think."
"You think."
"Um. Yeah."
It sounded to me like our youngest feline member had a baby snake. I walked out front to investigate. By this time, Jasmine was in the cul-de-sac, and the "squiggly thing" she had previously had in her mouth was beside her. It looked as if it was following her! And yes, folks, it was, indeed, a baby snake! I told Rebekah as much, and she proceeded to freak out. I rolled my eyes at her and told her to chill out. It was a garden snake and a baby one, at that.
Seconds after that, Jasmine had the snake back in her mouth and ran back toward our driveway with it, where she dropped it and proceeded to bat it around like a catnip toy. I thought for sure she had killed the little bugger since it wasn't moving at this point. After a few seconds, our ADD cat grew bored and moved on, finding something else to attract her attention. As soon as she was away, the snake uncoiled itself and took off like a bat out of hell, heading straight for the grass! When my mom heard the story, she asked, "Why didn't you kill it?!" Um, because it was a harmless garden snake? I mean, I'm not going to ask it in for tea or dinner, but I'm not going to kill a perfectly harmless, non-poisonous snake, either!
Today, the darling Czech Pecker mowed the front lawn. He didn't see any evidence of the baby snake or his family. I suppose they put it out on the snake network that the Lazurek Funny Farm is not a safe place to be for the reptile community. Between the dogs and the cats, there is no telling what might happen to them!
Our three girls are Ariel, the grey tabby and matriarch of the feline family, Belle, the clever and capricious calico, and Jasmine, a sweet and loving solid black, long-haired girl. All prefer the "great outdoors" of our cul-de-sac region, and we leave our garage door open several inches so they can seek shelter from the elements and come in for a bite and a drink in between their Great Hunting Expeditions. The fourth member of our Feline Family is Biggles, a white male Persian, who is strictly the indoor type and who often thinks that he is a dog!
Our Girls encounter some crazy wildlife adventures in the Great Outdoors at times. Take the time that a family of birds decided to start their new family in a tree in our front yard. Okay, I don't know much about birds, so I cannot tell you what type they were, but they were FIERCE! So fierce that they intimidated the bejeezus out of poor Ariel. Imagine birds chasing a cat! I swear that it really happened. Over the course of several weeks while these birds nested in our front yard, Ariel's life was a living feline hell. One morning, the darling Czech Pecker walked out front to get into his car, and he saw Ariel in the center of the cul-de-sac, surrounded by a bird on four sides. Every time she tried to escape, the birds would close in on her, trying to peck at her head! Another day around that same time, she was trying to walk from our driveway to our sidewalk leading to the steps up to our porch, and the birds flew from their nest to peck at her while she tried to run into the house! That very weekend, we left town to visit Charleston, and my step-father, Robert, checked on our pets several times a day for us. At one point, he was standing on our front porch, and as he looked down our street, Ariel was running down the street, toward the house, with at least three birds chasing her! Poor kitty made it into the house, terrorized. To this day, we do not allow Alfred Hitchcock films in our house in deference to her.
Needless to say, we have received our share of gifts from The Girls, mainly in the form of field mice. I've learned to graciously accept these gifts and surreptitiously dispose of them at a later time, when the cats are napping or they are off on another hunt. One thing I have learned about cats and mice, though...they only chase and hunt them when THEY want to do it. After cleaning out the garage one day, a displaced field mouse decided to come into our house, into the kitchen. Sitting in my living room reading a book, I glanced up and saw the little bugger making its way nonchalantly across the floor, and I said, "Well, shit fire and save the matches...there's a mouse!" When I tried to send a cat after it, she looked at me as if I had three heads and proceeded to lick her butt. I learned my lesson. Cats only chase mice on their own terms. I don't know what ever happened to that little mouse. It disappeared into the laundry room, never to be seen again. I suspect it disappeared into that Void where the Lost Socks go.
The latest Wildlife Adventure with The Girls happened yesterday. Rebekah came in and said, "Mama, Jasmine is playing with something. It's kind of long and squiggly." I looked at her strangely.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Well, it's bigger than a worm, but it's smaller than a snake."
"What colour is it?"
"It's black. I think."
"You think."
"Um. Yeah."
It sounded to me like our youngest feline member had a baby snake. I walked out front to investigate. By this time, Jasmine was in the cul-de-sac, and the "squiggly thing" she had previously had in her mouth was beside her. It looked as if it was following her! And yes, folks, it was, indeed, a baby snake! I told Rebekah as much, and she proceeded to freak out. I rolled my eyes at her and told her to chill out. It was a garden snake and a baby one, at that.
Seconds after that, Jasmine had the snake back in her mouth and ran back toward our driveway with it, where she dropped it and proceeded to bat it around like a catnip toy. I thought for sure she had killed the little bugger since it wasn't moving at this point. After a few seconds, our ADD cat grew bored and moved on, finding something else to attract her attention. As soon as she was away, the snake uncoiled itself and took off like a bat out of hell, heading straight for the grass! When my mom heard the story, she asked, "Why didn't you kill it?!" Um, because it was a harmless garden snake? I mean, I'm not going to ask it in for tea or dinner, but I'm not going to kill a perfectly harmless, non-poisonous snake, either!
Today, the darling Czech Pecker mowed the front lawn. He didn't see any evidence of the baby snake or his family. I suppose they put it out on the snake network that the Lazurek Funny Farm is not a safe place to be for the reptile community. Between the dogs and the cats, there is no telling what might happen to them!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I have PMS and a Tater Gun
I recently told some friends that I have the Three T's of Redneck-dom. I have my Truck--the B.A.T. mobile--a tattoo--it's a cool tattoo, a wolf to symbolize my Cherokee background. Grandma Sally was part of the Wolf Clan--and a Tater gun. What is a tater gun? If you're from the South, at least the rural South, you probably don't have to ask; however, since my kids go to a Catholic school where a large majority of the families are transplants from up North, they often view me as a rather different sort of specimen, something akin to Granny Clampett.
A tater gun, my friends, is made from PVC pipe. Shove a potato in one end of that sucker, then at the other end, spray some cheap hairspray with a high alcohol content, something like Aquanet, close the end cap quickly, then flick the switch, like a lighter, then watch that tater fly! My tater gun came to me courtesy my brother in Kentucky. He was talking about some of his escapades with a tater gun, and I replied that it was an object that I absolutely HAD to have. He generously made one for me last summer when I was visiting my homestead in My Old Kentucky Home, and I proudly came back over the mountains with my very own tater gun!
So it's redneck. It's also great fun! Especially when the taters, all broken up into tiny pieces, end up in strange places with no apparent explanation. I like to blame it on the Potato Aliens, whom I suspect may or may not be related to the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I reckon the tater gun is safer in my hands than a real gun, though. Take those PMS moments, for example. I REALLY don't look good in orange. In fact, it is quite hideous on me. I'm unlikely to actually kill anyone with a tater gun. Now that I reflect on it, I'm unlikely to actually kill anyone with a real gun.
In other news, the 13th of the month has come and passed. That means The Girls made their monthly jail break, just past midnight on the 13th. It happens every month, right around the 13th. The female dogs decided to escape. I don't know the meaning of it or if they are actually hiding small calendars in their kennels, under their dog houses so they know exactly when it's time to dig out, but we've taken note, and next month, we'll be ready for them!
In the meantime, I have discovered this game at Animal Planet: Pimp Your Pooch! I have been having WAY too much fun with this...more fun than an adult woman should. Some days, it doesn't take much to amuse me.
A tater gun, my friends, is made from PVC pipe. Shove a potato in one end of that sucker, then at the other end, spray some cheap hairspray with a high alcohol content, something like Aquanet, close the end cap quickly, then flick the switch, like a lighter, then watch that tater fly! My tater gun came to me courtesy my brother in Kentucky. He was talking about some of his escapades with a tater gun, and I replied that it was an object that I absolutely HAD to have. He generously made one for me last summer when I was visiting my homestead in My Old Kentucky Home, and I proudly came back over the mountains with my very own tater gun!
So it's redneck. It's also great fun! Especially when the taters, all broken up into tiny pieces, end up in strange places with no apparent explanation. I like to blame it on the Potato Aliens, whom I suspect may or may not be related to the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I reckon the tater gun is safer in my hands than a real gun, though. Take those PMS moments, for example. I REALLY don't look good in orange. In fact, it is quite hideous on me. I'm unlikely to actually kill anyone with a tater gun. Now that I reflect on it, I'm unlikely to actually kill anyone with a real gun.
In other news, the 13th of the month has come and passed. That means The Girls made their monthly jail break, just past midnight on the 13th. It happens every month, right around the 13th. The female dogs decided to escape. I don't know the meaning of it or if they are actually hiding small calendars in their kennels, under their dog houses so they know exactly when it's time to dig out, but we've taken note, and next month, we'll be ready for them!
In the meantime, I have discovered this game at Animal Planet: Pimp Your Pooch! I have been having WAY too much fun with this...more fun than an adult woman should. Some days, it doesn't take much to amuse me.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Wednesday Morning Thoughts
Does life ever slow down? Do I ever get a chance to just stop and smell my weed garden? Not very often.
Prior to the Derby, I received something else in the mail from the great Commonwealth of Kentucky, a package from my dad. It contained copies of some photographs that I had been wanting, photos of my great-great-grandparents, great-grandparents, my grandfather in his Army uniform and on the ship where he was an Island Hopper in World War II. He joined up with the Army almost immediately after graduating from medical school in 1942. I am now looking for some old-fashioned looking photo frames, and I am going to start a "Heritage Wall" in one of my rooms.
On Friday, the darling Czech Pecker came home with a surprise gift for me! Here is a picture of it:
It's a Native American Mandella, a spiritual shield for the home. The white wolf on it looks almost exactly like Dougal, our white Husky, the Alpha male of our pack! Also, my Cherokee family were members of the Wolf Clan, so it has meaning in that sense, too.
Additional thoughts for today before I head out:
I decided to take a breather today, and I am reflecting on the past week. Here are some of my thoughts:
I am still saddened over the Kentucky Derby triumph and tragedy of the filly, Eight Belles. While my pick had been Colonel John (who came in 6th), I admit to cheering as she ran her heart out to pass up all those male horses, coming in 2nd after Big Brown, only to collapse, two broken ankles, requiring euthanasia immediately to put her out of her pain. She was an incredibly amazing horse who died doing what horses like her love doing--racing for the finish line. R.I.P. beautiful girl.
Prior to the Derby, I received something else in the mail from the great Commonwealth of Kentucky, a package from my dad. It contained copies of some photographs that I had been wanting, photos of my great-great-grandparents, great-grandparents, my grandfather in his Army uniform and on the ship where he was an Island Hopper in World War II. He joined up with the Army almost immediately after graduating from medical school in 1942. I am now looking for some old-fashioned looking photo frames, and I am going to start a "Heritage Wall" in one of my rooms.
On Friday, the darling Czech Pecker came home with a surprise gift for me! Here is a picture of it:
It's a Native American Mandella, a spiritual shield for the home. The white wolf on it looks almost exactly like Dougal, our white Husky, the Alpha male of our pack! Also, my Cherokee family were members of the Wolf Clan, so it has meaning in that sense, too.
Additional thoughts for today before I head out:
Spring Cleaning: It sucks, but it must be done. I'm plugging away at it, but as I said, I'm taking a break from all work today.
Spring Allergies: They suck even worse. I bet Spring Cleaning doesn't help any. Thus, my reason for taking a break today.
My dogs are eerily quiet right now. I bet they're plotting something.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Goats
I seriously want some goats. I've been wanting some goats for some time now. Being in the city limits, though, there is an ordinance against having farm animals, dammit all. Once we get some land in the country, though...
I don't know why I have this thing for goats. Maybe it's because I'm a Capricorn. Maybe it's just because I'm a little bit odd. Whatever it is, I just think goats are kind of cool. Think of the benefits. They're a petrol-free alternative to keeping the grass low. Of course, I'm sure they keep other forms of landscaping down, too, but we have Huskies, so gardening and pretty flowers have never been a big deal at our place. And what about goat milk and cheese? I never really gave serious thought to becoming a goat dairy farmer, but hey...it might be entertaining and enlightening.
Goats just seem to have a presence. And those pygmy goats...is there anything cuter?
Speaking of goats, take a gander at these guys, Myotonic, or fainting, goats:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGz97dxGHV8&feature=related
What a hoot! I don't think it would be a good idea for us to have them, though. They would constantly be keeling over with the Huskies romping around, howling and yodeling. No, I think we need some goats who can give the Huskies a good head butt in the, well, butt, from time to time, just to keep them in line!
I don't know why I have this thing for goats. Maybe it's because I'm a Capricorn. Maybe it's just because I'm a little bit odd. Whatever it is, I just think goats are kind of cool. Think of the benefits. They're a petrol-free alternative to keeping the grass low. Of course, I'm sure they keep other forms of landscaping down, too, but we have Huskies, so gardening and pretty flowers have never been a big deal at our place. And what about goat milk and cheese? I never really gave serious thought to becoming a goat dairy farmer, but hey...it might be entertaining and enlightening.
Goats just seem to have a presence. And those pygmy goats...is there anything cuter?
Speaking of goats, take a gander at these guys, Myotonic, or fainting, goats:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGz97dxGHV8&feature=related
What a hoot! I don't think it would be a good idea for us to have them, though. They would constantly be keeling over with the Huskies romping around, howling and yodeling. No, I think we need some goats who can give the Huskies a good head butt in the, well, butt, from time to time, just to keep them in line!
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