Cathy in the Wright

To Matt

Happy Birthday!

I was hoping to get this up earlier, but I haven't been near the computer. Hope you had a great day.

I was thinking about you starting your new school next September, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a school shopping trip with me in August. Sometime during the week of the 14th - 18th perhaps? Let me know.

I Need A Ruling On This One

For the past three evenings, I've been fishing baby guppies out of the tank and flushing them down the toilet.

Going to hell or just an extended stay in purgatory?

Adult Joke - Not For My Nephews

The husband had just finished reading a new book, 'YOU CAN BE THE MAN OF YOUR HOUSE'.

He stormed into the kitchen and walked directly up to his wife. Pointing a finger in her face, he said sternly, "From now on, YOU need to know that I AM the MAN of this house, and my word is law! You will prepare me a gourmet meal tonight, and when I'm finished eating my meal, you will serve me a sumptuous dessert afterward. Then, after dinner, you are going to go upstairs with me, and we will have the sex that I want. After that, you are going to draw me my bath so I can relax. You will wash my back and towel me dry and bring me my robe. Then you will massage my feet and hands. Then after that's done, guess who's going to dress me and comb my hair?"

His wife replied, "The f*ckin funeral director would be my guess."

Day Dreaming

The Nightwriter, bless him, still comes around to read once in a while. Or, at least he did last week because he tagged me with the meme that was floating around at the time: What sitcom character would you like to be?

Seeing as I've had little else to write about, I'll grab onto that life preserver.

What sitcom character would I like to be? Roseann.

[kitty forman laugh]Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! [/kitty forman laugh] You weren't even fooled for a moment, were you?

Right. I would really like to be Florida Evans.

Kidding again! But Florida is kind of a kick-ass sort of name. Florida is a gal who stops an armed robbery by smacking the criminal upside the head with her handbag. The handbag with the legally concealed Smith & Wesson. She doesn't need it. The robber is on his knees crying and she's got him by the earlobe and is jawing away at him until the cops arrive. You do not mess with Flor-i-da.

Besides, I'm not sure Good Times qualifies as a sitcom. That family could never catch a break.

Okay. I think I would like to be Samantha from Bewitched. The Dick York years. Good-looking, kind-hearted, and if you get on her bad side, she'll turn you into a dog.

Of course, if I were Samantha, the humane societies would be overflowing. And I wouldn't give my kid a name that's better suited for a cat.

**cool. I just saw that Ryan tagged me with this same thing a couple of days ago. Don't you just love having your homework done ahead of time?

Summer Is A Filthy Time Of Year

Don't feel bad. You're not the only people I'm neglecting these days. My family is suffering as well. I've neglected the laundry for so long that The Senator almost had to wear dress socks to the playground this morning. The pile of whites is so high, I'm tempted to throw a slip cover over it and just go buy some new socks and underwear.

And it's only going to get worse if the weather stays this nice. Laundry or swimming at the lake? Load the dishwasher or go on a picnic? Dust or sit on the front porch and watch the clouds go by? You see the dilemma. If we don't get some severe weather soon, the county may have to condemn my house.

I need to get the school year pushed back until the end of September. We've just got way too much to do this summer. Oh yeah, and then call Merry Maids October 1.

I Can't Leave That Boy Alone For A Minute

Yesterday I arranged for the Uber-Babysitter up the road to come down for the day. The UB, who is Uber-Cute, arrived with her equally adorable friend, E. Huzzah! I pay for one set of eyes and get two. Not a bad deal. Plus, The Governor loves the UB and all her friends.

I get home to find out that E was playing with The Gov in his Spiderman tent when The Senator announced it was her turn on the pinball machine.

The Governor pleaded, "Oh no! Please don't go! I'll miss you, darling!"

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.
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The day he turns 18, we will be at the Marine recruiting office the moment they unlock the doors.

Where Scratch 'N Sniff Would Not Be Helpful

Sure, right now it looks like a pig pen, but come this fall, you're looking at a freezer full of sausage and pork chops.

Well, maybe not a freezer-full. I made the horrible mistake of naming one of the pigs. I couldn't help it. She was so sweet.

I would scratch her little back and she would fall over in pure bliss:

Too cute. I may have a tough time live blogging the butchering this year. Of course, the grief subsides when the smell of bacon wafts through the house on an early Saturday morning. So long, Sweetheart.

Scratch 'N Sniff Monitor Would Be Helpful On This One

The Governor and I were doing a little 4-wheelin' the other day. It had been a while since we took our favorite path through the woods out to the back forty. It used to be an alfalfa field. Now it looks like this:

Clover almost as far as the eye can see. And it smelled great. Almost expected to see Melissa Gilbert come running at us, flapping her arms and braids bouncing off her shoulders. Except that Melissa Gilbert is old and annoying now (clarification: more annoying) and I don't think she's seen anywhere these days other than Lifetime for Women Channel.

Still, a neat view.

Tomorrow: yet another snapshot from life at The Outpost: pigs.

Heh

Forwarded to me from Dad.

Cute Chicks

A batch of pheasant chicks arrived last week. When I first moved to the country, I adopted a personal belief that seeing a pheasant while driving was good luck. I had to amend my superstition a few years back when a pheasant hen flew up out of the grass along County Road 35 and was involved in a case of headlight-assisted suicide. My right headlight, to be exact. Now, I believe it's good luck to see only roosters while driving.

This batch of chicks is scheduled to be released sometime this summer when they're old enough to fend for themselves. If history repeats itself, this group, like this first batch we raised, will congregate in the brush around the mailbox forcing me to hop out of the car and kick them out of the way before leaving the driveway.

Why I ever picked such a dumb bird for a good luck omen, I do not know.

To Jack:

Happy Birthday!

Let me know your baseball schedule - The Senator and I would love to come watch a game.

The Outpost Bait Shop Now Open

As I was sitting here catching up on my blog reading, The Governor came into the room and stood at the table behind me.

Hey Mom, look at these tiny fish!

Yeah, yeah. Cool. I kept reading.

Mom! Lookit! Lookit!

Yep, just a second.

Wow, Mom! We have a whole lot of little fish now!

Great. Did you finish your lunch? And then I remembered we have four guppies in that tank. I finally turned around to look. Nine new little tiny guppies. Oh hell. I wish I had seen them first. Unfortunately, there is now a witness to their existence. Damn, damn, damn.

Upon closer inspection, I see we are missing one of the original four guppies. Where did it go? The VP is usually pretty good about keeping me informed of improptu funerals. No body floating in the tank. One of the tetras looks a little larger than I remember. No, it had to be that creepy bottom feeder. But wait - they only eat algae, right? Maybe we have a mutant bottom feeder. I hope he's still hungry; he's got nine more to go.

Guess I learned my lesson. This is the last time we adopt a portion of the classroom science project.

I suppose we'll have to keep the new ones around until they're big enough to put on a hook.

Ah HA! I may not have to worry after all. One of the larger guppies is trying to eat the new arrivals. Go, cannibal, go!

Posted by Cathy at 02:13 PM | Comments (0)

Newest Member Of The Family

Meet the latest addition to The Outpost:

The VP, according to the vast quantities of pleading I've heard over the past few months, has ALWAYS wanted to have a pinball machine in the house. And Earthshaker was always one of his favorites. And lo and behold: the husband of one of his fellow Cub Scout leaders has a side business collecting and refurbishing old pinball machines. And Wow! He just happened to have TWO Earthshakers!

So the beast arrived today.

Mid-life crisis or did he just never grow up? I'm not sure. But it was a genuine yearning. I stipulated that if Earthshaker was to come into the house, something had to leave to make room for it. And that something was the downstairs television. He didn't even bat an eye. Consider it gone dear.

The boys were a little more uncertain about ditching the tv, but now that ES has arrived, they have been won over to the dark side by their father. What tv, Mom? Can we charge our friends a quarter to play? How do you win a free game, Dad? Is it my turn yet?

Now I'm upstairs listening to the pings, dings, knocks, cheering, and shouting wondering how long I should wait before I tell The VP that the furinture dolly he used to get Earthshaker into the basement left black, greasy wheel tracks all the way down the stairs. On the tan carpet. This machine is going to cost him more than he planned.

Since I will now apparently have the rest of the afternoon to myself, I'll try to wander over and take some pictures of the pigs and the new pheasant chicks that arrived yesterday.

Enjoy your weekend.

Aelfheld - thanks for the email!