Frankie: ...somthin'."
Me: (I'm making us sandwiches) "Yes?"
Frankie: "How come you keep putting the front heel of the bread back in with the loaf every time?"
Me: "I like a heel sandwich."
Frankie contemplates.
Frankie: "Do you realize how many times you touch that piece of bread?"
Me: "Uh-huh".
Frankie: "Well, that's just gross."
I'm sure you all remember my ramblings and rantings about how particular I am about my sandwiches, so I guess Frankie does have a valid point here. But, I plow on, smearing mustard c-l-e-a-r o-u-t and a little over the edge of each piece of bread.
Frankie: "No, honestly, why do you keep that heel of bread?"
Me: "Honestly? I like a heel sandwich. It's kind of like serendipity every one is a 'surprise accident'. They are never, ever the same. Sometimes the pieces fit together pretty well, sometimes one piece is huge and fat, while the other almost didn't make it through the automatic slicing machine and you get a lop-sided marvel."
Frankie: "Ugh, that's still gross. You've got one really germ laden piece and one pristine...how is that healthy?"
Me: "Probably isn't. Would you rather I shoved my hand down over all the pieces to pull the other heel out and have my heel sandwich first?"
Frankie shudders.
Frankie: "Wouldn't a half a heel sandwich work?"
Me: "No, My rational thinking is the front heel helps to keep the next piece of bread moist and fresh while the loaf gets eaten."
Unfortunately this made absolutely no sense to Frankie, I was beginning to think she was not going to eat her sandwich at all...maybe never eat a sandwich again. I had not intended to gross her out, and I decided maybe I was 'messed up' keeping that heel till it met the one on the other end. I mentally calculated the pros and cons. Even asked myself if I was the only one in the world that liked a heel sandwich. There have got to be others.
Eventually the pros won. After all, it's not like I don't wash my hands first, and there is always the fact I've been doing this my whole adult life without any bodily harm. Plus there's just something about the quaint, unusual excitement I get from a sandwich that on one side looks like the map of the United States while the other looks like India. Since I like my sandwiches full, top to bottom, end to end, I never know what's going to get all over my fingers. Sometimes it's a condiment, sometimes lettuce, cheese or maybe meat. Generally I eat the over-hanging part first, until the heels match so it looks like either the United States or India. Then, gulp that sucker...'er...sandwich down.
I wonder where I got the idea to make heel sandwiches, it had to come from somewhere...perhaps waaay back in my childhood. OOOOOH, I bet my mom made and ate heel sandwiches. Thanks, mom.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
These are a few of my...
...favorite smells.
Yesterday on facebook I posted 'I forgot how good a cup of black coffee tasted.' And, later in the day a dear friend posted how she remembered the smell of her grandfather's black coffee, ending with a sigh. I think it made her a bit melancholy, rekindling old, but pleasant memories.
This got me to thinking about the play "Our Town" in which Emily, who dies during childbirth, laments about the things she will miss and is sorrowful she will..."never smell heliotrope again." How I forget, or don't seem to have the time to breathe in my favorite scents, deeply, joyously every single day...it's free, and takes so little time...why don't I just lean over, and smell my favorite rose?
This morning I seemed to recall I once wrote a list of some of my favorite smells and I began rummaging through my mountain of things I've jotted down over the years and found it...boy aren't you lucky? Here it is:
Tomato plants
Cinnamon
Bread baking
Home made vegetable soup
pumpkin pie
lilacs
lily-of-the valley
arbutus
vanilla
rubber erasers
spice cake
freshly cut cedar boughs
heliotrope
a baby's breath
roasting turkey
April rain
ozone
...oh, I could go on and on, but sadly, this was the end of my actual written list.
I'm sure all of you must at least have a mental list of your own favorite smells, if you don't I hope you'll start one. Nothing on my list has changed, even though it's been years since I've looked at it, and nothing on it surprised me. All bring back good, sweet, wonderful memories. Why I don't continue to add to it is a mystery? I should you know, because I don't want to be like Emily, and lament I didn't have or take the time...'to smell the heliotrope again'.
Life is short. Breathe deeply, dear friends...breathe deeply.
Yesterday on facebook I posted 'I forgot how good a cup of black coffee tasted.' And, later in the day a dear friend posted how she remembered the smell of her grandfather's black coffee, ending with a sigh. I think it made her a bit melancholy, rekindling old, but pleasant memories.
This got me to thinking about the play "Our Town" in which Emily, who dies during childbirth, laments about the things she will miss and is sorrowful she will..."never smell heliotrope again." How I forget, or don't seem to have the time to breathe in my favorite scents, deeply, joyously every single day...it's free, and takes so little time...why don't I just lean over, and smell my favorite rose?
This morning I seemed to recall I once wrote a list of some of my favorite smells and I began rummaging through my mountain of things I've jotted down over the years and found it...boy aren't you lucky? Here it is:
Tomato plants
Cinnamon
Bread baking
Home made vegetable soup
pumpkin pie
lilacs
lily-of-the valley
arbutus
vanilla
rubber erasers
spice cake
freshly cut cedar boughs
heliotrope
a baby's breath
roasting turkey
April rain
ozone
...oh, I could go on and on, but sadly, this was the end of my actual written list.
I'm sure all of you must at least have a mental list of your own favorite smells, if you don't I hope you'll start one. Nothing on my list has changed, even though it's been years since I've looked at it, and nothing on it surprised me. All bring back good, sweet, wonderful memories. Why I don't continue to add to it is a mystery? I should you know, because I don't want to be like Emily, and lament I didn't have or take the time...'to smell the heliotrope again'.
Life is short. Breathe deeply, dear friends...breathe deeply.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Giggles
I'm sure you've heard I ordered four pair of, black, size small, slippers through one of the many catalogs I get by the week, and when they arrived earlier this week, Frankie and I have a huge laugh over the fact they were, long, flat, and waaaay too big. I checked the label, they actually are size small although, they actually look like the deck of an air-craft carrier, long, square-ish and very, very flat.
Frankie immediately said to re-pack them into their envelop (yes, they came in an envelop)...which should have been my first clue they were not going to look like the colorful picture in the catalog...but, I said, "No, that will probably cost more than what I paid for the slippers in the first place, and would probably not get my refund until mid-2013." So, I began shlucking around the house with the carriers on my feet. THEY ARE HUGE and I had to be very careful the front end didn't not fold back, and trip me. Still, they were cheap...what should I expect...shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Well, of course, Frankie has been in a state ever since. The minute I come within her line of vision she goes into a fit of giggles. So much so, I can't help but giggle myself. It is amazing what a source of entertainment these stupid slippers have become.
Finally, in order to make them 'fit better', I took an old pair of slippers, cut the soles off them, covered them with 'heavy day' pads, and put a pair of stocking like footies over the whole she-bang. On the plus side, they did help to make the slippers more sturdy, and I must confess although they don't look like they would really keep your piggies warm, in reality they do. However...giggle, giggle, giggle...on the minus side.. they also made them look even more like an air-craft carrier. Baaaa, haaaa, haaaa. At least they have a more solid soles so I don't worry as much about them tripping me any more but, the tiny bump where my foot actually is...looks sort of like a mole mound on a......well...................air-craft carrier. Baaaaa, haaaa, haaaaa.
My sister says I should post a picture on facebook, and I'm going to try to do that today. One foot will have a slipper on, the other a white footie, so you can compare. Oh, geeze, Frankie just came in the room and is leaning over my shoulder, she gonna...yep, she's almost ready...here it comes......giggles. Are we ever going to get over this blunder?
Probably not, since I bought four pair...they're cheap...not really well made...I'm thinking they won't last very long...but then again, maybe they will...I might not have to buy slippers for the rest of my life. Now there's a horrible thought...what if they out live me?
Oh, I'm going to have to go, Frankie and I are laughing so hard, I can't see to type any more. Teee, heee, teee, baaaaa, haaaa, haaaa.
Frankie immediately said to re-pack them into their envelop (yes, they came in an envelop)...which should have been my first clue they were not going to look like the colorful picture in the catalog...but, I said, "No, that will probably cost more than what I paid for the slippers in the first place, and would probably not get my refund until mid-2013." So, I began shlucking around the house with the carriers on my feet. THEY ARE HUGE and I had to be very careful the front end didn't not fold back, and trip me. Still, they were cheap...what should I expect...shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Well, of course, Frankie has been in a state ever since. The minute I come within her line of vision she goes into a fit of giggles. So much so, I can't help but giggle myself. It is amazing what a source of entertainment these stupid slippers have become.
Finally, in order to make them 'fit better', I took an old pair of slippers, cut the soles off them, covered them with 'heavy day' pads, and put a pair of stocking like footies over the whole she-bang. On the plus side, they did help to make the slippers more sturdy, and I must confess although they don't look like they would really keep your piggies warm, in reality they do. However...giggle, giggle, giggle...on the minus side.. they also made them look even more like an air-craft carrier. Baaaa, haaaa, haaaa. At least they have a more solid soles so I don't worry as much about them tripping me any more but, the tiny bump where my foot actually is...looks sort of like a mole mound on a......well...................air-craft carrier. Baaaaa, haaaa, haaaaa.
My sister says I should post a picture on facebook, and I'm going to try to do that today. One foot will have a slipper on, the other a white footie, so you can compare. Oh, geeze, Frankie just came in the room and is leaning over my shoulder, she gonna...yep, she's almost ready...here it comes......giggles. Are we ever going to get over this blunder?
Probably not, since I bought four pair...they're cheap...not really well made...I'm thinking they won't last very long...but then again, maybe they will...I might not have to buy slippers for the rest of my life. Now there's a horrible thought...what if they out live me?
Oh, I'm going to have to go, Frankie and I are laughing so hard, I can't see to type any more. Teee, heee, teee, baaaaa, haaaa, haaaa.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Caw, caw, caw.
Well, it's over a year now since I stopped feeding the birds, Crows in particular, thanks to Bird Lady. I'm pretty sure that once I stopped throwing seed out she thought they would magically move on to another neighborhood. What a joke, there's a middle school within spittin' distance and a fast food place just round the bend. Both scream....free food, free food.
Just this morning a Crow was sitting on the wires in front of my place, I wondered if it had a vague memory of the 'old lady' that used to put seed, bread, and left-overs on the driveway for them to enjoy. I know I miss those days.
Also, and of course, she insisted I was the source of all the rats in the neighborhood, even though every evening, rain or shine, I would take my broom and dust pan out and sweep up any leftover debris from the days larder. Guess what? The Crows are still around, and it's the time of year for their young to be out on their own, and the parents are trying to teach them to fend for themselves full time...what a clatter...their chatter this morning must be driving Bird Lady insane...(sooo many things I could write here...but I won't.)
Plus, and although I personally have not seen one myself, my neighbors report there are still rats around.
Sooo sorry Bird Lady, not my fault. I think as long as there are wood piles, patches overgrown with blackberries, morning glories, and other unkempt vegetation, they will continue to nest here. It's the circle of life.
I am glad to know I was not 100% responsible for the Crow and rat problems we allegedly have, as I believe nature is going to do what nature is going to do. Both Crows and rats were here long before I arrived in the neighborhood, and I suspect they will be here long after.
I miss not being able to watch the birds feed, so many species came to visit...a colorful array, each with their own beautiful music. In addition to the Crows there was the squawk of Stellar and Scrub Jays, coos of the Mourning Doves, chirps and tweets of Junkos, Wrens, Sparrows, and Towhees, while Pileated Woodpeckers hammered on metal stove pipes, telephone poles and tree trunks their tap-pity, tap, tap resounding through the air. And, once, for about a week a beautiful Pheasant, regally strutted through the neighborhood, plumage bright and glorious.
But, life is what it is, and time has moved on...I still have an ache in my heart some days missing the personal association I had with my feathered friends, thanks Bird Lady...so I gratefully appreciate those occasions when a Crow, stops by to say howdy. Gotta ya' Bird Lady...Got ya'.
Just this morning a Crow was sitting on the wires in front of my place, I wondered if it had a vague memory of the 'old lady' that used to put seed, bread, and left-overs on the driveway for them to enjoy. I know I miss those days.
Also, and of course, she insisted I was the source of all the rats in the neighborhood, even though every evening, rain or shine, I would take my broom and dust pan out and sweep up any leftover debris from the days larder. Guess what? The Crows are still around, and it's the time of year for their young to be out on their own, and the parents are trying to teach them to fend for themselves full time...what a clatter...their chatter this morning must be driving Bird Lady insane...(sooo many things I could write here...but I won't.)
Plus, and although I personally have not seen one myself, my neighbors report there are still rats around.
Sooo sorry Bird Lady, not my fault. I think as long as there are wood piles, patches overgrown with blackberries, morning glories, and other unkempt vegetation, they will continue to nest here. It's the circle of life.
I am glad to know I was not 100% responsible for the Crow and rat problems we allegedly have, as I believe nature is going to do what nature is going to do. Both Crows and rats were here long before I arrived in the neighborhood, and I suspect they will be here long after.
I miss not being able to watch the birds feed, so many species came to visit...a colorful array, each with their own beautiful music. In addition to the Crows there was the squawk of Stellar and Scrub Jays, coos of the Mourning Doves, chirps and tweets of Junkos, Wrens, Sparrows, and Towhees, while Pileated Woodpeckers hammered on metal stove pipes, telephone poles and tree trunks their tap-pity, tap, tap resounding through the air. And, once, for about a week a beautiful Pheasant, regally strutted through the neighborhood, plumage bright and glorious.
But, life is what it is, and time has moved on...I still have an ache in my heart some days missing the personal association I had with my feathered friends, thanks Bird Lady...so I gratefully appreciate those occasions when a Crow, stops by to say howdy. Gotta ya' Bird Lady...Got ya'.
Monday, July 23, 2012
If only
I got to thinking about 'if only' early this morning, and wondered how many times I might have said that in my 74 years. I could not think of one time...that's pretty amazing...and this led me to something I've said to my kids since eternity.
Go where you want to go,
Do what you want to do,
See what you want to see,
And you will never live your life with regret.
In other words, there won't be any 'if only' seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years in your life.
And, there won't be any of those could have, should have, would have moments either. Your life will be full of sites explored, challenges met, and visions in you mental photo albums and scrap books to keep your children, and their children wondering how you ever had the time to go, do and see everything you did.
Funny really, how your life is filled with all those moments. Mine sometimes take my breath away.
I remember walking to work one morning, turning on the radio there, and hearing President Kennedy had been shot and killed. I remember the morning I turned on the television, and I saw the second plane hit the second tower. I remember the first time I saw a man walk on the moon.
I remember the first time I smelled the ocean before I ever saw it. I remember the first time I saw a robin's egg. I remember the first time I ever tasted orange sherbet.
I remember the first time I whacked a mole on the head with a shovel, watched a squirrel wrestle with cherry tree branches in an attempt to make a nest, and even bury a beloved pet in the back yard.
I learned to crochet, paint with watercolor, walk a mile, sip Jim Beam, to say I love you to everyone I do, and...do it as often as I possibly can.
I re-learned to eat junk food, watch TV during the day...and sometimes even fall asleep for a quick nap, laugh, hardy, long and sometimes even loud.
I found I'm forgetting things...mostly stuff I don't really want to remember in the first place, there is joy in putting my feet on the floor every morning, and that the best things in life really are free. All I have to do is
Go where I want to go,
Do what I want to do,
And, see what I want to see,
Honest, I have no regrets and I can't think of one single 'if only' moment in my life.
Go where you want to go,
Do what you want to do,
See what you want to see,
And you will never live your life with regret.
In other words, there won't be any 'if only' seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years in your life.
And, there won't be any of those could have, should have, would have moments either. Your life will be full of sites explored, challenges met, and visions in you mental photo albums and scrap books to keep your children, and their children wondering how you ever had the time to go, do and see everything you did.
Funny really, how your life is filled with all those moments. Mine sometimes take my breath away.
I remember walking to work one morning, turning on the radio there, and hearing President Kennedy had been shot and killed. I remember the morning I turned on the television, and I saw the second plane hit the second tower. I remember the first time I saw a man walk on the moon.
I remember the first time I smelled the ocean before I ever saw it. I remember the first time I saw a robin's egg. I remember the first time I ever tasted orange sherbet.
I remember the first time I whacked a mole on the head with a shovel, watched a squirrel wrestle with cherry tree branches in an attempt to make a nest, and even bury a beloved pet in the back yard.
I learned to crochet, paint with watercolor, walk a mile, sip Jim Beam, to say I love you to everyone I do, and...do it as often as I possibly can.
I re-learned to eat junk food, watch TV during the day...and sometimes even fall asleep for a quick nap, laugh, hardy, long and sometimes even loud.
I found I'm forgetting things...mostly stuff I don't really want to remember in the first place, there is joy in putting my feet on the floor every morning, and that the best things in life really are free. All I have to do is
Go where I want to go,
Do what I want to do,
And, see what I want to see,
Honest, I have no regrets and I can't think of one single 'if only' moment in my life.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Whew....
Man, it has been a darn busy two days.
Sometimes I don't know where the time goes. I've been busy working on a new project for Gues Who Originals, and futzing a bit in the yard, too. I probably shouldn't tell you how out of control my gardens are...but trust me they are.
This afternoon I decided it was time to move some rocks. Baaaaahaaaaahaaaa. Again...I'm moving rocks. Over the years I have moved tons of them and that is no joke. Before several of our house were built the area was a marsh...well, almost mini-swamp...and truck loads of rock were brought in to fill the marsh in, and then more truck loads of top soil were brought in to cover up the rocks. The far south-west corner of the back yard barely dries up before the fall rains begin...but I digress.
Anyway, after we bought the house, I decided I needed a vegetable garden, and flower gardens. Lots, and lots of flower gardens and so it was I began to dig, and dig, and dig, and dig. At the time I didn't know about the rocks and top soil, so I was quite surprised that with every shovel full of dirt I also I uncovered a rock. What was I going to do with all these rocks? Ah ha...I will use the rocks for borders of the gardens. Holy cow! I began to unearth boulders. Honest...they were boulders upwards of 75 to 100 pounds easy. They were too heavy to lift so I got very good at rolling them in awkward end over end til I got them where I wanted them to be. Oh, my goodness, very strenuous labor.
When I was finally happy with the end results, and the gardens got finished that fall, I counted my blessings I would never move another rock again.
THEN WE BOUGHT THE BACK LOT.
Paul decided we needed to move the rocks from the front yard and up-grade to something more 'classy' and by now I learned that having a vegetable garden in Oregon was not a very fruitful endeavor so I decided to give up gardening and move those rocks as well. So, I would load up my Radio Red Flyer Wagon...and off I would go to the back lot, load after weary load of rocks. Finally only the boulders remained...end over ending I went again. Whew.
Years went by I was happy, the rocks were happy. When Paul passed away I sold the back lot, and most of the rocks and boulders went with it. I was thankful I would never have to move those rocks again...well, except for a few I really, really liked, and I kinda, sorta confiscated before the sale of the lot was final. Sadly, they were boulder size, so I end over ended them one more time to the back yard AGAIN. I must be nuts.
Years ago my gardener created a pea-gravel sidewalk that goes the length of the back of the house, around to a small patio (he created that, too). He also bought some larger round river rocks and kind of strew them hither and yon along the sidewalk, it looked great. Until last year when I noticed they were beginning to sink into the soil, I spent a day lifting the majority of them up, smoothed out the pits, and re-set them where they were, except for the damp corner of the yard that I totally ignored.
Okay, again, happy rocks, happy me. Sigh...until today. Yep, I got a bug up my butt...and decided it was time to move rocks. Remember the damp south-west corner of my back yard. Pitiful, pitiful spot. I grab my kneeling pillow and set to work. I use my weed-pulling tool to get them loose, as some were three quarters buried in dirt (thank you moles). I make a nice border, and I'm hoping to let a shrub overtake that area and be done with it. I'm down to my last rock...wouldn't you just know it...it's 75 pound boulder. First I have to dig it out...then I manage to get a shovel under it, and swing it out of the deepest part of the hole and away from my neighbor's fence. I'm finally able to get a good grasp, and start the end over end process. One side of it is covered with a lovely moss and I want that on the out-side, and maneuver it into place.
I'm pretty pleased with myself. I swing my birdbath into the same area and stand back to admire. Whooo, hooo. Please, Lord...I never, ever want to move a rock again.
Let's hope the rocks are happy, I know I am.
Sometimes I don't know where the time goes. I've been busy working on a new project for Gues Who Originals, and futzing a bit in the yard, too. I probably shouldn't tell you how out of control my gardens are...but trust me they are.
This afternoon I decided it was time to move some rocks. Baaaaahaaaaahaaaa. Again...I'm moving rocks. Over the years I have moved tons of them and that is no joke. Before several of our house were built the area was a marsh...well, almost mini-swamp...and truck loads of rock were brought in to fill the marsh in, and then more truck loads of top soil were brought in to cover up the rocks. The far south-west corner of the back yard barely dries up before the fall rains begin...but I digress.
Anyway, after we bought the house, I decided I needed a vegetable garden, and flower gardens. Lots, and lots of flower gardens and so it was I began to dig, and dig, and dig, and dig. At the time I didn't know about the rocks and top soil, so I was quite surprised that with every shovel full of dirt I also I uncovered a rock. What was I going to do with all these rocks? Ah ha...I will use the rocks for borders of the gardens. Holy cow! I began to unearth boulders. Honest...they were boulders upwards of 75 to 100 pounds easy. They were too heavy to lift so I got very good at rolling them in awkward end over end til I got them where I wanted them to be. Oh, my goodness, very strenuous labor.
When I was finally happy with the end results, and the gardens got finished that fall, I counted my blessings I would never move another rock again.
THEN WE BOUGHT THE BACK LOT.
Paul decided we needed to move the rocks from the front yard and up-grade to something more 'classy' and by now I learned that having a vegetable garden in Oregon was not a very fruitful endeavor so I decided to give up gardening and move those rocks as well. So, I would load up my Radio Red Flyer Wagon...and off I would go to the back lot, load after weary load of rocks. Finally only the boulders remained...end over ending I went again. Whew.
Years went by I was happy, the rocks were happy. When Paul passed away I sold the back lot, and most of the rocks and boulders went with it. I was thankful I would never have to move those rocks again...well, except for a few I really, really liked, and I kinda, sorta confiscated before the sale of the lot was final. Sadly, they were boulder size, so I end over ended them one more time to the back yard AGAIN. I must be nuts.
Years ago my gardener created a pea-gravel sidewalk that goes the length of the back of the house, around to a small patio (he created that, too). He also bought some larger round river rocks and kind of strew them hither and yon along the sidewalk, it looked great. Until last year when I noticed they were beginning to sink into the soil, I spent a day lifting the majority of them up, smoothed out the pits, and re-set them where they were, except for the damp corner of the yard that I totally ignored.
Okay, again, happy rocks, happy me. Sigh...until today. Yep, I got a bug up my butt...and decided it was time to move rocks. Remember the damp south-west corner of my back yard. Pitiful, pitiful spot. I grab my kneeling pillow and set to work. I use my weed-pulling tool to get them loose, as some were three quarters buried in dirt (thank you moles). I make a nice border, and I'm hoping to let a shrub overtake that area and be done with it. I'm down to my last rock...wouldn't you just know it...it's 75 pound boulder. First I have to dig it out...then I manage to get a shovel under it, and swing it out of the deepest part of the hole and away from my neighbor's fence. I'm finally able to get a good grasp, and start the end over end process. One side of it is covered with a lovely moss and I want that on the out-side, and maneuver it into place.
I'm pretty pleased with myself. I swing my birdbath into the same area and stand back to admire. Whooo, hooo. Please, Lord...I never, ever want to move a rock again.
Let's hope the rocks are happy, I know I am.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
...so, just who's in charge here.
Dang it. I'm having a problem with those itsy-bitsy ants again. For some reason they have fallen in love with the cat food. I came out to the kitchen a few days ago and found CC's kibble bowl covered with them. I put the bowl in the sink and ran the hottest water I have over it...flooded it...and watched those sucks, die, die, die. I know, that was cruel. Some of them tried to escape and I gave those stragglers the old 'squash with the thumb' treatment. I do not like any kind of bugs in my house. Especially the Granddaddy Long Legs that get in my tub and can't get out. Sorry, I digressed.
Back to the ants. I decided the best way of getting rid of them was to spray along their path on wall with Raid. The spray can states it does not smell...well, it kind of doesn't...still kind of does, but it worked and I am happy. I know those little rascals will be back when the spray dissipates and decide that at night I will simply put CC's bowl in a plastic zip bag and store it in a cupboard til morning.
The first nigh all went well.
But...ohhhh, last night was a night from He-double hockey-sticks.
Time after time CC came into the bedroom to bug me, I knew she wanted her bowl of kibble.
Hey...who's in charge here...me, right?
Zorro and I try to ignore her. She lays on my chest for about ten minutes and then jumps off the bed. I'm just about back to sleep when she jumps back on. Zorro is getting very annoyed, and even starts to growl at her presence.
This goes on till 4:36...finally I could not take the torture any more. I sit up, flick on the light and announce to Zorro 'I can'ts stans this no mores.' I put on my slippers, go to the kitchen and get out CC's kibble bowl. Then in a very loud, and annoyed voice I repeat over and over...kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, until I see her zooming from where ever she had been to come and eat.
Zorro and I head back to bed...I must get some sleep. CC never bothers us again.
So guess who's in charge? It certainly isn't me.
Insert a very tired person's sigh here.
Back to the ants. I decided the best way of getting rid of them was to spray along their path on wall with Raid. The spray can states it does not smell...well, it kind of doesn't...still kind of does, but it worked and I am happy. I know those little rascals will be back when the spray dissipates and decide that at night I will simply put CC's bowl in a plastic zip bag and store it in a cupboard til morning.
The first nigh all went well.
But...ohhhh, last night was a night from He-double hockey-sticks.
Time after time CC came into the bedroom to bug me, I knew she wanted her bowl of kibble.
Hey...who's in charge here...me, right?
Zorro and I try to ignore her. She lays on my chest for about ten minutes and then jumps off the bed. I'm just about back to sleep when she jumps back on. Zorro is getting very annoyed, and even starts to growl at her presence.
This goes on till 4:36...finally I could not take the torture any more. I sit up, flick on the light and announce to Zorro 'I can'ts stans this no mores.' I put on my slippers, go to the kitchen and get out CC's kibble bowl. Then in a very loud, and annoyed voice I repeat over and over...kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty, until I see her zooming from where ever she had been to come and eat.
Zorro and I head back to bed...I must get some sleep. CC never bothers us again.
So guess who's in charge? It certainly isn't me.
Insert a very tired person's sigh here.
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