Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Blog humor’

The Goose

Posted in Musings, Pets, tagged , , , , on April 12, 2012| Leave a Comment »

We started out with just this obnoxious feline – The Heinous Cat.

After he sent out open invitations to every other cat in the neighborhood to drop by his house for a good time, we ended up with this cat:

Maizy – also known as The Interloper – came to visit and still hasn’t left. After a year, I think she’s staying. At first, her presence greatly disturbed The Heinous Cat. He didn’t like her horning in on things. He wanted all the food, all the attention, all the space in my lawn chair for himself.

Despite his hissy fits, repeated attempts to lure her across the road and threats to her well-being, she continued to hang out in our backyard.

They seem to have reached an understanding, of sorts. Tolerating each other and not getting into a cat fight every time they get within spitting distance is new. Part of that may have been due to the fact The Heinous Cat was lost for twelve days and when he came home he was so glad to be there, he accepted The Interloper as part of the package.

She really enjoyed him being gone. The kingdom belonged to her without some annoying cat ridden by glandular issues smacking at her all the time.

“Mama, why did you let him come back? Wasn’t I good enough for you?”

Poor kitty.

I think the real reason they are getting along so well is in their joint efforts to shut out the latest addition to our backyard, The Mongoose.

A month or so ago, we were overrun with cats. As in there were eight of them in our backyard and I was not going to stand for it. After running them off repeatedly, this little guy kept sneaking back.

He’s terrified of everything, half-starved and completely pathetic. What were we to do? Especially since he looks like the love child of The Heinous Cat and The Interloper.

We named him Mongoose – Goose for short  – because of the way he bobs his head, lurks around corners and dashes around grabbing bites of food when he thinks no one is watching.

I would, however, like to issue this statement: The Hatfield Cat Farm is no longer accepting any new boarders, tenants or stow-aways.  If you have a feline, please ask them to pass this news along. We are full-up, at maximum cat capacity, and I will not willing take on another one. Nope. All done.

She who is Still a Dog Person, Not A Cat Person

Read Full Post »

The Baby

Posted in Musings, tagged , , , on March 28, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I’m conflicted.

Really, I am.

You know those ads in magazines that show some odd looking doll that you know some old lady faithfully collects with her limited pension funds? The ones that sometimes look creepy and strange and you wouldn’t want to have in your home because you are pretty sure in the dark of night you’d wake up and find it staring at you?

I hate to admit it, but one of those dolls just completely captured my attention. Does that mean I’m turning into a weird old lady who’ll begin a freaky doll collection? Aaccckkk! I hope not.

But you’ve got to see this doll.

Doesn’t it look like a real-live baby?

From the Ashton-Drake Galleries, this doll is one of their “So Truly Real” collection, made by artist Linda Murray.

This sweet little thing, from her chubby pink cheeks and dark hair to her adorable little fingers, is 22 inches of life-like baby.

For someone who would rather cuddle a baby than eat chocolate (up until said baby cries, needs changed and wants fed), this seems like an ideal solution.

But then that makes me one of those deranged old people with questionable behavior.

See where I am conflicted?

Here is the part of the doll that is really throwing me for a loop. It is “interactive” and once you insert the batteries, you place your finger in the doll’s tiny little hand like this:

And then the doll does this:

Oh. My. Gracious.

And look at these tiny little life-like fingers, right down to the fingernails.

I bet the doll even has that sweet baby smell.

The best course of action at this point is to forget I ever saw this.

Yep.

That’s what I’ll do.

She Who May Be in Love with This Doll

Read Full Post »

A Monday List

Posted in Captain Cavedweller, Musings, tagged , , , , on March 26, 2012| Leave a Comment »

It’s Monday.

It’s raining.

The weekend flew by way too fast and due to that fact, all I’ve got for you is a list of all the reasons why I feel completely discombobulated today.

1. Captain Cavedweller’s Mom called yesterday morning and left a message that his uncle had been mugged. By the time we returned her call after church and then waited for her to get home and call us back the panic had subsided and he was on his way home from the hospital. Remind me to not move to the town where he lives in Arkansas.

2. I put on my armor of long-sleeved sweatshirt, heavy jeans and elbow-length leather gloves to do battle with my rose bushes Saturday.  Due to multiple scratches, puncture wounds and one thorn still embedded in my finger, I think they came out ahead.  I look like I “wrastled a bobcat,” as my grandpa would have said, and lost.

3. CC turned into a slave-driving maniac and made me help him dig up all 973 bricks that line our backyard flower beds. We are getting ready to have our entire septic system and drain field replaced and anything we want to save had to be piled somewhere safe until the work is finished. I’ll share more on this awful project soon.

4. I made two new recipes this weekend. One involved tender beef, waffle fries and sour cream. The other involved bananas, cream and more cream. Both were a hit although my arteries are feeling a bit sluggish. I’ll post the recipes in a week or so.

5. Dirt clods exploding approximately 3.7 inches from where one obnoxious cat is doing something he ought not be doing causes said cat to jump approximately 3.7 feet into the air and run for cover. Not that I know about these things first hand.

Hoping you all have a great Monday!

She Who Needs One More Day of Weekend

Read Full Post »

Driving Blind

Posted in Entertaining at Home, tagged , , , on March 22, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Last weekend, Captain Cavedweller and I made a trip for a family funeral. It involved driving several hours after work and we got a later start than we planned.

Of course it was pouring down rain as we left home and started our journey. By the time we had been in the car for an hour and a half, CC was holding the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip and muttering under his breath.

He has this little problem of not being able to see to drive at not.

Actually, it isn’t a little problem, it is a big problem, especially when I don’t want to drive at night. How am I supposed to sit in the passenger seat, eat bonbons and keep up a running dialogue about his driving abilities if I’m the one doing the driving?

As it was, the first town we came to, CC pulled off, fed me dinner and informed me I was driving the rest of the way.

Pulling back on the freeway, it took me all of 26 seconds to decide I didn’t want to drive. Not only was the rain coming down in sheets, hundreds – no thousands – of semis were on the road creating so much road splash it was impossible to see. And they were all driving approximately 37.8 miles an hour. At that rate or speed we would have reached our destination approximately two days after the funeral service was over.

In order to pass a truck, I would have to give myself a mental pep talk, hit the gas and hope for the best.

Trying to get past a truck, the phrase driving blind suddenly had an all new meaning to me. I couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see the concrete divider in the road. Couldn’t see reflective posts. Couldn’t see lines the white or yellow lines on the road. Couldn’t even see the truck we were passing.

ImageWhat I could see was similar to this, except pitch black with about 80 percent less visibility and a nice mix of road scum thrown in.

It was just fabulous.

By the time I passed half a dozen trucks, I thought CC might:

1. hyperventilate

2. leave permanent fingerprints in the dashboard he was gripping

3. have a heart attack

When I passed another truck and couldn’t see if I was on my side, the truck’s side or any side of the road, I thought I might:

1. hyperventilate

2. leave permanent fingerprints in the steering wheel I held in a death grip

3. have a heart attack

By the time we reached the next town, I pulled off and found a hotel. I’d had enough fun for one evening.

As we splashed through the rain to the door, he still hadn’t regained the ability to speak. Seizing the opportunity, I informed him I was never, ever, ever, going to drive blind again.

At least not until we end up in a similar situation.

She Who Now Has 167 New Gray Hairs

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »