Hi y'all,
Well, we've arrived back from Oregon, and are shocked to find it cooler than Portland was. Not sure how that happened, but won't look a gift weather system in the mouth.
As you can probably imagine, Bubbles was just thrilled to have us back. It's a good thing when you have to force a cat into the carrier, right?
After returning from Camp Joe (where we will be sending her from here on out when we leave town), she is all healed from her neighborhood cat beatings, but I think it's only a matter of time before she's back to mouthing off and provoking another smack down. I saw Oreo (the giant Don Corleone kitty from across the street) eying her this morning.
And I know you'll be happy to hear that now that she's all healed, the unprovoked attacks have resumed.
Jeff lets Bubbles in the house every morning (not my decision), and upstairs she runs. Addie has taken to sprinting from her room to ours, or back again, in an effort to avoid a traumatic cat tackles. She'll even slam our door behind her, hoping (I can only assume) that the force of the door shutting will knock Bubbles unconscious before she has a chance to jump on her.
Just this morning, while Addie sat eating her breakfast, Bubbles attacked her from behind. Not that I'm saying Addie is totally blameless in what their relationship has become, but this particular case was 100% Bubbles mania.
I'm thrilled we found someone else besides Other Family Mom to watch Bubbles. I'm just not sure how many more times I could listen to her say, "Bubbles used to be such a nice cat before she was outside all the time."
Although on the up side, Other Family Daughter just told me (I'm sure her mother would be just mortified if she knew) that they took their kitten to the vet in bag . . .
Hello pot, this is kettle calling.
Although honestly, I don't know how anyone could accuse me of being a bad cat mother. Just before we left, Bubbles went missing again (we've figured out, that if she gets more than four houses away, she gets lost). Since we were going to be gone for two weeks, and we couldn't leave the garage open for her, I saw that I had no choice but to find her, and bring her home.
There I was in the pouring (and it pours here) rain with Lorelei on my front, fighting Addie for control of the umbrella, searching for our cat. Bubbles may be short on brains, but at least she knows to stay put. I found her almost exactly where we'd seen her last - about four blocks away, sitting under a bush.
Outside of the torrential rain, it was the longest walk home in the history of walks.
Are you familiar with the saying, "It was like herding cats?"
If I had to estimate, I'd say one Addie = three cats. And let’s not forget Bubbles' keen sense of direction . . .
Just in case any of you were wondering if I'd given up on my Martha endeavors, we threw our annual 3rd of July party here, and I made 54 lbs of pork. Martha would have been so proud.
Now that's all well and good one would think, but when I purchased said pork (I actually bought 75 lbs, just in case), I failed to consider what one would use to cook said pork in.
I appreciate that I'm in pork country and all, but you should have seen the look on my neighbor's face when I told him I boiled the meat . . . Keep in mind that he is a self-proclaimed southern barbecuer, and according to his gospel, pork should take no less than 10 hours to cook.
He confessed to me later (after tasting the pork), that he thought, "Oh lord, we're havin boiled meat for dinner. This is gonna be jus' awful."
My response was something to the effect of, "if a girl likes to eat, you aught to trust that she's not going to steer you wrong when it comes to cooking." I think my southern-side is coming along nicely.
Coup of coups, not only did I boil the meat, I also served sweet mint tea - god forbid.
Shortly after our big party, Jeff went into the garage and discovered the door to his kegerator was open, and the tap had been pulled. The atrocity of it - beer all over the floor and an empty keg.
Come to find out, there had been a great beer heist in the neighborhood. Multiple cases of beer had been stolen, or attempted to be stolen from all the unlocked garages (this was on a Sunday evening). And to think, we had tried to blame Addie.
Apparently one neighbor discovered his loss immediately, as his fridge had been left open, another chased off the hoodlums in question, and another (after a day of drinking mind you) hopped in his car and proceeded to chase the teenagers down the road. Of course he got their license plate, and by that night, four of the six kids had been arrested. The police officer, who had the privilege of returning the stolen beer, was quite proud of himself.
And we were told shortly after our arrival home from vacation, that the other two culprits had been apprehended and arrested as well. Well, thank goodness for that.
Some of you may have heard that pythons are taking over Florida, but apparently they're working their way up to the Carolinas too. Having just seen a python up close and personal at the Portland Zoo, all I can say is, Jeff will have to find his own way back to Oregon, because the girls and I will have already left.
Every once in a while, the girls and I will meet up with another preschool family for a nice meal. But then reality hits, and the realization that kids suck the joy out of eating out.
We recently met up with two other moms and their kids (making six kids under three) for Mexican, and between the tortilla chips in the ears and the quesadilla on the shoulders (and that was just my kid), the nice lunch out was somehow lost on the three of us, and those seated immediately around us.
The picture attached is just one more example of why I believe that some girls go from three to 15 in about 10 minutes. We will be in such a world of trouble soon.
As if that weren't bad enough, I took Addie to open gym at a gymnastic academy, and she just fell in love with the outfits. She kept pointing out different leotards, and insisting that we go and get one. She even tried to convince me that we should leave the gym, go get one, and come back. Explaining that she wanted one in purple, but if they didn't have purple, green would do. And if they didn't have green, pink would do.
For those of you who don't know, Addie decided that it was high time she should be wearing underwear (god forbid you call them underpants or panties). And outside of finding sitting on the toilet tedious, she is doing very well. Although as many parents can attest, the automatically flushing toilets in the airport, were nearly the undoing of the potty training advancements.
I have found two new products that very nearly put the injectable gravy to shame.
I was at Tuesday Morning, and found Solar Vinyl Shorts (send me your size, and I'll see about getting each of you one of your very own), and best of all - a Dr. Laura Action Figure.
I have only dreamed of such a thing.
Apparently there is a whole line of "America's Real Action Heroes." As if the action figure itself were not enough - she talks. For those of you who follow Dr. Laura, this should be a no-brainer - she says, and I quote, "Now go do the right thing!"
I can't imagine that this won't be on everyone's Christmas list this year.
As if the poisonous snakes, parachuting ticks and wild animals are not enough, lighting struck a tree in our backyard while we were gone. And just in case you're wondering, lighting will in fact fry the electrical system for your irrigation, and the irrigation of your immediate neighbors.
I'm beginning to question how one reaches adulthood here with all of the perils lurking in your own yard.
Take care,
Kate
Well, we've arrived back from Oregon, and are shocked to find it cooler than Portland was. Not sure how that happened, but won't look a gift weather system in the mouth.
As you can probably imagine, Bubbles was just thrilled to have us back. It's a good thing when you have to force a cat into the carrier, right?
After returning from Camp Joe (where we will be sending her from here on out when we leave town), she is all healed from her neighborhood cat beatings, but I think it's only a matter of time before she's back to mouthing off and provoking another smack down. I saw Oreo (the giant Don Corleone kitty from across the street) eying her this morning.
And I know you'll be happy to hear that now that she's all healed, the unprovoked attacks have resumed.
Jeff lets Bubbles in the house every morning (not my decision), and upstairs she runs. Addie has taken to sprinting from her room to ours, or back again, in an effort to avoid a traumatic cat tackles. She'll even slam our door behind her, hoping (I can only assume) that the force of the door shutting will knock Bubbles unconscious before she has a chance to jump on her.
Just this morning, while Addie sat eating her breakfast, Bubbles attacked her from behind. Not that I'm saying Addie is totally blameless in what their relationship has become, but this particular case was 100% Bubbles mania.
I'm thrilled we found someone else besides Other Family Mom to watch Bubbles. I'm just not sure how many more times I could listen to her say, "Bubbles used to be such a nice cat before she was outside all the time."
Although on the up side, Other Family Daughter just told me (I'm sure her mother would be just mortified if she knew) that they took their kitten to the vet in bag . . .
Hello pot, this is kettle calling.
Although honestly, I don't know how anyone could accuse me of being a bad cat mother. Just before we left, Bubbles went missing again (we've figured out, that if she gets more than four houses away, she gets lost). Since we were going to be gone for two weeks, and we couldn't leave the garage open for her, I saw that I had no choice but to find her, and bring her home.
There I was in the pouring (and it pours here) rain with Lorelei on my front, fighting Addie for control of the umbrella, searching for our cat. Bubbles may be short on brains, but at least she knows to stay put. I found her almost exactly where we'd seen her last - about four blocks away, sitting under a bush.
Outside of the torrential rain, it was the longest walk home in the history of walks.
Are you familiar with the saying, "It was like herding cats?"
If I had to estimate, I'd say one Addie = three cats. And let’s not forget Bubbles' keen sense of direction . . .
Just in case any of you were wondering if I'd given up on my Martha endeavors, we threw our annual 3rd of July party here, and I made 54 lbs of pork. Martha would have been so proud.
Now that's all well and good one would think, but when I purchased said pork (I actually bought 75 lbs, just in case), I failed to consider what one would use to cook said pork in.
I appreciate that I'm in pork country and all, but you should have seen the look on my neighbor's face when I told him I boiled the meat . . . Keep in mind that he is a self-proclaimed southern barbecuer, and according to his gospel, pork should take no less than 10 hours to cook.
He confessed to me later (after tasting the pork), that he thought, "Oh lord, we're havin boiled meat for dinner. This is gonna be jus' awful."
My response was something to the effect of, "if a girl likes to eat, you aught to trust that she's not going to steer you wrong when it comes to cooking." I think my southern-side is coming along nicely.
Coup of coups, not only did I boil the meat, I also served sweet mint tea - god forbid.
Shortly after our big party, Jeff went into the garage and discovered the door to his kegerator was open, and the tap had been pulled. The atrocity of it - beer all over the floor and an empty keg.
Come to find out, there had been a great beer heist in the neighborhood. Multiple cases of beer had been stolen, or attempted to be stolen from all the unlocked garages (this was on a Sunday evening). And to think, we had tried to blame Addie.
Apparently one neighbor discovered his loss immediately, as his fridge had been left open, another chased off the hoodlums in question, and another (after a day of drinking mind you) hopped in his car and proceeded to chase the teenagers down the road. Of course he got their license plate, and by that night, four of the six kids had been arrested. The police officer, who had the privilege of returning the stolen beer, was quite proud of himself.
And we were told shortly after our arrival home from vacation, that the other two culprits had been apprehended and arrested as well. Well, thank goodness for that.
Some of you may have heard that pythons are taking over Florida, but apparently they're working their way up to the Carolinas too. Having just seen a python up close and personal at the Portland Zoo, all I can say is, Jeff will have to find his own way back to Oregon, because the girls and I will have already left.
Every once in a while, the girls and I will meet up with another preschool family for a nice meal. But then reality hits, and the realization that kids suck the joy out of eating out.
We recently met up with two other moms and their kids (making six kids under three) for Mexican, and between the tortilla chips in the ears and the quesadilla on the shoulders (and that was just my kid), the nice lunch out was somehow lost on the three of us, and those seated immediately around us.
The picture attached is just one more example of why I believe that some girls go from three to 15 in about 10 minutes. We will be in such a world of trouble soon.
As if that weren't bad enough, I took Addie to open gym at a gymnastic academy, and she just fell in love with the outfits. She kept pointing out different leotards, and insisting that we go and get one. She even tried to convince me that we should leave the gym, go get one, and come back. Explaining that she wanted one in purple, but if they didn't have purple, green would do. And if they didn't have green, pink would do.
For those of you who don't know, Addie decided that it was high time she should be wearing underwear (god forbid you call them underpants or panties). And outside of finding sitting on the toilet tedious, she is doing very well. Although as many parents can attest, the automatically flushing toilets in the airport, were nearly the undoing of the potty training advancements.
I have found two new products that very nearly put the injectable gravy to shame.
I was at Tuesday Morning, and found Solar Vinyl Shorts (send me your size, and I'll see about getting each of you one of your very own), and best of all - a Dr. Laura Action Figure.
I have only dreamed of such a thing.
Apparently there is a whole line of "America's Real Action Heroes." As if the action figure itself were not enough - she talks. For those of you who follow Dr. Laura, this should be a no-brainer - she says, and I quote, "Now go do the right thing!"
I can't imagine that this won't be on everyone's Christmas list this year.
As if the poisonous snakes, parachuting ticks and wild animals are not enough, lighting struck a tree in our backyard while we were gone. And just in case you're wondering, lighting will in fact fry the electrical system for your irrigation, and the irrigation of your immediate neighbors.
I'm beginning to question how one reaches adulthood here with all of the perils lurking in your own yard.
Take care,
Kate
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