Helpless

    Tamara is suffering from migraines, starting the middle of last night and again early this afternoon. I am absolutely powerless to help and hate it infinitely. I gave her backrubs which at least reduced the tension otherwise, but do not kid myself that it helped at all with the headache. I can only hope that they go away on their own. She's trying to sleep it off, which as I understand it usually helps. I hope it does this time. I only ever had one migraine: saw a white light, threw up, slept for hours, felt all better. I hope that finally happens for her. But I'll certainly give backrubs for whatever help that may represent.

Sometimes I forget

    I believe I mentioned it at length last year when I bought very expensive arch support insoles (Superfeet) and subsequently had a lengthy period of adjustment before they became comfortable. But they did and I had significantly less back, foot and leg problems than usual. Lately, my back has been acting up a lot and more recently feet, calf and thigh trouble has turned up. So I bought new Superfeet. I was surprised to find that the ones I bought last year were actually for minimally flat feet. They have much higher ones! However, the problems I was having during the adjustment period were not in the area of the insoles feeling too low but too high. So I can only imagine what the Superduperfeet insoles are like. Regardless, since last year's model worked well eventually, and for a year, I bought the same again. And the point to all this is that they worked so well that I forgot that I'm flat-footed. When my back and neck, etc. started acting up, it took weeks for me to think of it. Which I suppose is an endorsement, isn't it? Hoping for quick relief and a quicker adjustment this time. Also put the old ones in my backup shoes. Hey, they cost $60; even a year old it has to be better than nothing, right?

Beat maker

    Forgive it please if I've blithered about this before, but I think that was a different app and a different phone. The iPod has been misbehaving lately. At first I thought the battery was shot, but now it appears that the problem is that it's showing a full battery when it's not remotely full. When I leave it plugged up for long periods, I get battery life like I had before. I think. I'm going to try leaving it away from charging all night tonight and see if it drains itself again. Hope not!
    Regardless, when I hit the trail with a discharged iPod, I sought out other music sources. On THIS phone, I have a beat maker app (called, you'll never believe this, Beat Maker). Usual thing, you pick your instruments and pick when you want them to play over four bars repeated endlessly. This time, they're all percussion instruments. Then you get to play along on one of three synth basses. And what I found out the other day and don't think I knew before is that if you play any array of notes using any time signature or randomly, once you've gotten through the four bars, Beat Maker fits your notes into its time signature. Meaning that a three year old could suddenly be Chris Squire. (Better, since you get away from the whole being dead part.) I was best pleased. You would be amazed how interesting four bars repeated endlessly can be, a point I believe I made when I blithered about another app. And it's free!

Fill and sign

    Somebody needed me to fill in a .pdf form. They had not set it up to be filled in. I was able to find the Fill and Sign tool in Adobe Reader X to allow me to add text. How I did this, I have no idea. Whether I could ever do it again, I have no idea. It's neat being able to figure out how to meet every challenge that comes up. It would probably be even neater to be able to remember how you did it. As it was for a doctor's office, maybe I'll add that to my list of symptoms, after "being a chronic hypochondriac."

Pancakes

    I so can't write the recipe, though! For one thing, the pancakes weren't very good. For another, the cooking was done almost entirely on feel with very little predictable rhyme or reason. Then again, if I COULD write that recipe, well I'd know I could be a cookbook author!
    The problem with my savory gluten-free pancakes is probably that I put in too much stuff. True or not, the problem needing a solution was that the individual pancakes were too thick. Following the directions on the mix led to me having pancakes that were burnt on the outside but raw on the inside, which cuts in on their deliciousness and also their healthiness (or survivability, if you're cynical) since there's raw egg in there. So!
    What I did was get the griddle sizzling hot, pour in the batter, cover, and turn off the heat, setting the timer for four minutes. With two minutes left (i.e., when sizzling had abated), I turned the heat back on (Medium, which on this stove is as high as I ever go). Flip it and do more or less the exact same thing. Covering allowed the heat to pass more nearly all the way through. Turning the heat off allowed the pancakes to cook without burning. I'm pretty charged about doing the same thing with savory pancakes that actually turn out savory. I put in lentils, spices, steamed vegetables, a jalapeno and eventually Pickapeppa and Tabasco sauces. Just couldn't really ramp up the flavor. Next time I'll remember to use Trader Joe's Green Dragon sauce. That'll do it! Anyway, I wish I could report a resounding success, but at least it was a success to the degree that when I get tastier ingredients together next time, I'll know what to do with them. That's a win any day!

You'll find out tonight!

    Tamara and I went on an impromptu adventure yesterday. She was curious about nearby town Camden. Unfortunately no restaurant there appeared to be open Sundays. So we wound up going to a Camden-listed seafood restaurant that was actually nearer Ridgeway. It was a nutty idea, since neither of us eat gluten and most fish camp type places mainly serve fried seafood. But it turned out awesome! The broiled flounder was excellent. There wasn't really anything that I eat that I could put on my baked potato, but I like potatoes per se. We didn't try the catfish stew, but it appeared to be safe. We just didn't get around to it before our main dishes arrived. When they did, we found we had some wonderful looking hush puppies. I asked if they were by any chance all corn meal, noting that we were lusting after them but that we don't eat gluten. Waitress checked with cook and said that they were corn meal, onions and sugar; no gluten. We were best pleased, and she said, "You'll find out tonight!" I assume she knows somebody celiac or is herself. Anyway, we found out; there was no gluten. Yay!
    We then went to Sumter so Tamara could see Swan Lake/ Iris Gardens. It was a little too early to see the best irises, but we saw some and got some lovely pictures. And the swans were fun and impressive. And we liked the chocolate garden and were delighted by some small boys chattering. Tamara loved it and we dug spending time together outdoors something astonishing. Bu-ut... there's a butterfly garden. And there were no butterflies at all except the sculpted steel ones. So it isn't my imagination that they are few in numbers this year. But we'll be back! And they will, too.

It's upside down!

    Last night, we very much enjoyed a concert at ifART Gallery (which you don't want to mis-capitalize) by saxophonist Mars Williams, trombonist Jeb Bishop and percussionist Tim Daisy, operating under the name Trio Red Space or some damn thing like that. Mars is an insanely gifted player but maybe a little hyperactive, knocking his music to the ground twice. Sitting on the front row right in front of him, the first time I handed it to him. The second time though, his hands were full so I put it on the stand for him. Paul Grant, who promoted the show on Facebook for our friend Ross Taylor, gestured that I had put it upside down. Woody Jones, my friend, jazz CD connection and favorite DJ every three weeks, did the same in spite of being 20 feet away and on the wrong side of the music stand. I read music; I WRITE music. I can tell the difference. I thought maybe there were staves on the back and I had it backwards, but no. Anyway, after the show, Paul apologized, realizing that I really did get it right. I'm just glad that they weren't trying to wind me up. Frankly, I thought it was pretty damned funny. Next time, we bring hand fans. When they burn the house down, they REALLY burn the house down!

Butterflies still absent

    I haunt my own previous year Facebook posts, partly because sometimes I posted something funny or a good cat picture, but mostly to find out when the butterflies emerged in past years. The answer is "by now." So I'm increasingly concerned. I appreciate that with Houston still underwater, it may be in poor taste to whine about a lack of butterflies due to our own much less serious flood. But a) I like butterflies and b) they are important pollinators. (Yes I looked up the spelling. No it does not make any sense. Of COURSE something that moves pollEn would be a pollInator!)
    I'm wondering if Sierra Club or Audubon or Nature Conservancy or anyone has considered butterfly releases. Our entire state was flooded. Granted, butterflies will come back eventually, but this could take a while. Not like most of these migrate particularly. They'll come here following food. Eventually. I guess I'll give my Sierran friends a buzz about maybe doing releases. Spring broods are always smaller than summer, but this is ridiculous. One butterfly a day, every day, really strikes me as unusual. Prepare yourselves, Houston.

Certified pre-owned

    Now the rubber hits the road as it were regarding how serious I am about my objection to the phrase "certified pre-owned." My friend Walt found me a super-low mileage 2014 Toyota Avalon Hybrid at a reasonable price at a nearby dealership in about ten seconds. I'm thinking of offering an extra $100 or so if they'll call it "used" instead. Not very seriously, of course, but I'm thinking about it. I still have neither debit card nor more than one check, so I have to cross my fingers that nobody else jumps on this deal. Carfax says it's been on the lot for over a month, so the odds should be good. And there's another one at the same dealership with only a little more mileage. I feel good about this. Fond as I am of my old awful car, I'm not THAT damned fond of it. I had concluded that I could get more frequent oil changes and have a practically new car for $20 every couple of months or so. But a really GOOD car, one that I could take 1,000 miles if need be, would be a terrific change of pace.

Today's fake blog entry

    I had the most astonishingly odd dream last night. It was extremely brief. I was female, which only affected the story such as it was at the very end, apparently a totally imaginary person. As I'm not female, it's hard to describe the first person singular character as "I" but there you are; I went into a hotel room, persuaded a nation's government (presumably also fictitious) to purchase something silly. It was specified in the dream but I can't remember; it was something supremely silly like dinner placemats, though. And I came out again after a minute (so nothing untoward went on) and thought, "I'm a regular Derek T. McBogue!" Then I realized that I was female and thought, "MS. T. McBogue." In the dream, apparently Derek T. McBogue was the most persuasive man in the world. Somehow I remembered the name (obviously) and looked it up; in my heart of hearts, I really believed that I was going to get Google hits for the very persuasive Mr. McBogue. Alas, he's McBogus. But now I have a penname!

Yesterday's real blog entry

    Of course, I could edit yesterday's, but I think it's funny the way it is. I was off to pick up takeout for our supper (which turned out brilliantly!) and didn't want to take out the extra minute to post entire sentences. As it turned out, I had to wait ten minutes when I got to the restaurant, so I could have easily taken the time. But hey; it would have been a VERY hungry blog entry!
    Not that it was a very electrifying story anyway. What happened yesterday was that I realized that I was out of checks. Went to the bank to see if they could expedite the process. The branch manager told me just to phone the number on the order form and told me what to tell them. My bank brilliantly puts the name of the account on the check, which is a truly unfortunate phrase that makes me look like an idiot to be banking with them. So I wanted that off the check. She assured me that the people at the phone number could fix that. So I called. To make an unnecessarily long story short, it would have cost money to get that phrase off. And to expedite the checks, I could pay $50 for overnight, which I didn't need, or $10 to improve 7 to 10 days to 5-7 days. I could not make the woman understand that I would really prefer something in between. $20 for 2-3 days maybe? Sooo my bank loses another customer. Which was the plan anyway. But still.

Shortest blog entry ever

    See?

That was NOT supposed to be the interesting part of the day!

    And not that it will be. However, it was supposed to be totally pro forma. When I bought tires last, I was told to come back in 6 to 8,000 miles for a free inspection and rotation. I was a little late at 9,000 miles, but figured I'd do it today before heading to Charleston. Boy am I relieved! Dude showed me where steel was coming through on the driver's side front. ("I think you might have a little alignment problem.")
    I told him we'd have another problem unless they accept checks since I was still waiting on my replacement debit card. (They did. I told him about the card going missing at the Charlotte restaurant. As he had just had his mortgage payment bounce due to somebody stealing their card info at Hardee's, he was HIGHLY sympathetic.) It turned out that I had a warranty. I am not exactly "buy the warranty" guy, and thus assume that it came with the Michelins. Either way, I got two new front tires for $36. And now suddenly I feel safe driving Tamara to Charleston to see David Sedaris this evening. This, we've got to hope, will be the REAL interesting part of the day. Unless he's given up writing humor and wants to show us his watercolors or something. Well it's still Charleston, and Tamara!

How long have you been hearing that squeaking noise?

    Last time out, I had to get an oil change early because my car leaks a lot, the oil light was coming on briefly now an again and when I took it in to be checked, the fellow told me I had no oil in my crank case. We're going to Charleston tomorrow and it would be best if it were in my car for various reasons. So I went to get the oil changed early to be on the safe side. (Oil light coming on indicating no oil would be bad news in say, Pinopolis.) I told them we were headed to Charleston.
    After oil was changed, technician called me back to the garage to ask how long I had been hearing that squeaking noise. I told him truthfully that I hadn't been. He was ready to sell me new front brakes but I told him that I was most likely trading in the car in the next few weeks and was willing to risk it. I asked him to note it on the receipt. Now on the receipt, there were a number of suggested maintenance tasks, presumably due to the car's advanced mileage. One of them was not anything to do with the brakes. No doubt it was an oversight, but it smacks of a(n attempted) hustle. Anyway, I feel pretty confident I can do 200-odd miles tomorrow without worry.
    Meanwhile, state taxes were also no problem. Or they didn't seem to be. Maybe it will turn out that I did everything wrong and I'll get the Al Capone Suite at the Greybar Hilton. But everything seemed straightforward, within the context of being pretty complicated. I'm afraid that I'm suddenly starting to enjoy challenges instead of cringing from them. I think I have Tamara to thank and you know what? I think I'm going to thank her!

Federal taxes no big problem

    Although it was true that every "important tax document" I received generated another tax form, often two or three, the IRS website was very easy to negotiate and the process was actually kind of fun. Well, fun like assembling Ikea furniture is fun. In the end, I got everything together in plenty of time, but since we're a third world country now and post offices aren't open on Saturday, I had a bit of a challenge getting the materials mailed. Did that, too, though, and possibly some day a check will come.
    Meanwhile, people on the vacant lot next door were cutting trees all day long. I guess I was a little stressed. Dude knocked and asked permission to cut. I told him he'd have to talk to the landlord. They kept cutting. I'm afraid I snapped a bit and went out screaming. Turned out that they were from the power company; landlord would have been perfectly happy to let them cut. But it REALLY would have helped if the guy had said that in the first place. (Truck just said Trees Inc.) In the end, I think everyone was more or less happy, and I certainly apologized for screaming. Tax day not the ideal time for cutting trees all day.
    Somehow, I still have to do my state taxes. Enthusiasm is at very low ebb, especially as I'll need to cut them a check. Miss Amelia is agitating to go out of course. That's enough excuse for anybody, isn't it?

The Joy of Tax

    I'm kind of missing being poor. I called Great-West again, got the right person this time but since my bank was closed, had to have the fax sent to Office Depot. They charged-- get this-- $5 for two pages. I'm not sure I needed that instruction sheet that badly. But taxes are at least now possible.
    Possible is about the size of it. Every piece of paper I have received requires a different form to report it on. I feel great sympathy for Elizabeth Warren's crusade to simplify tax returns. I believe that I can print off all these forms, although my printer reports that it is of course running out of black ink. How late you open, H&R Block? I'm on my way!

Estate sale

    Sunday, Paul and I went to an estate sale in one of the finer homes of Wales Garden, in turn one of the finer neighborhoods in town. In general, we found the house a lot more interesting than the offerings. The house was pretty big, but seemed larger on the outside. As it was the last day, prices were half off and we were looking hard for a price tag on a wall for the entire house.
    What I mainly found is that I'm a big snob. There were Dick Francis books that I didn't have and due to the half-price sale, could have picked up for $1 each. I'd like to say that I didn't want to buy books that I knew came from a recently deceased person, but the truth is the fact that I didn't like his other books turned me off. "Maybe I'm wrong to be reading Dick Francis and John D. MacDonald!" a part of me seemed to be thinking. (He also had some MacDonalds, but none that I don't have already.) Not earth-shattering, I realize, but a very odd thing to find out about oneself. On the other hand, I had read the books in question already, and my Dick Francis reading seems to have slowed to a stop lately. So maybe it's more that it's a phase that's passed. I prefer to think so.
    Meanwhile, the fax from Great-West arrived at my bank, but it was the wrong form, the one for my dad. So unless I can get through at this hour (earlier in Colorado, of course), an extension is most likely in my future. Not the worst thing ever, but a little annoying.

Harry's best day

    Frankly, this is more suited to Facebook or even Twitter, but was so neat as to be almost moving. Harry the cat feels that all food in the world is his. As he never gets fat, maybe he's right. Maybe he has the metabolism to eat everything; I don't know.
    I've gotten in the habit of giving the cats a little sardine each every other day. This in addition to splitting two large cans of wet food a day between them. Now I've decided that they should have something overnight, on Tamara's advice. I got them a very very good dry cat food and left out a half cup in two bowls. I'm afraid Harry probably ate both. In future, I'll put him and his bowl outside. This is a benefit of springtime; you can do that without being mean. Anyway, Harry got his regular feed, a sardine, and probably all the kibble. A red letter day!
    In less fun news, I can't find my most important 1099 form. The company concerned is mailing it to me and they also said that they would fax it to my bank, but no such fax has materialized. Or no phone call alerting me of one has. So an extension may be in order. Bummer drag. Sorry IRS!

The weatherman is apologizing

    They do that a lot of course, like when it rains on weekends, or too much, or fails to snow, or snows too much, or anything of the sort. But apologizing for temperate, somewhat cloudy weather in a place where it's 900 degrees more than half of the time, well I think that might be unusually unnecessary. When is he going to apologize for the fry eggs on the sidewalk weather, I ask you! (Wait, I just did.)
    It's been a crazy lovely day. Even though I fed them late this morning, Amelia charged out and ate an entire blade of bordergrass, but then she ate her normal food and doesn't appear to have had any ill effects. Pretty odd, though. Now I get to see if an opening cat food can will draw them inside earlier than they want to come. Well it usually does. Someday soon I will do my taxes. (Oh don't worry; they're straightforward. If they turn out not to be, I know how to file an extension and I know good accountants.)

Miss Amelia and the rain

    Maybe I'm mistaken in thinking that Amelia hasn't experienced rain in person in ten years. Obviously it's rained a LOT since I started letting her out last year. But I think I've been careful not to let her go in the rain. Until today.
    Not that we're having a return of the flood waters. It hasn't been very hard at all, nor cold nor uncomfortable. But she's a cat! Not supposed to be a fan of the wet stuff. Experience teaches that she's definitely not a fan of baths. But she doesn't seem to mind it a lot. On the other hand, she just flashed me her devil eyes, something that shouldn't be possible unless it's a lot darker than it is out here. So I don't know; maybe letting her outside isn't such a good idea. Could it be Satan?
    Anyway, this was going to be a rumination on the costs of freedom. Into each cat's life, some rain must fall, or something like that. But she seems not to be counting the cost, and if anything digging it. As the porch overhang is protecting my laptop, I guess I'm digging it, too. But I wouldn't mind the sun coming back out either.

Dear Penthouse Forum

    Dear Penthouse Forum, I never thought it would happen to me. I met a woman, extremely attractive and intelligent and charming and funny, and she likes me. We're totally compatible: emotionally, physically, musically, culturally and sexually-- not that you'd be interested in that. I didn't have any point in particular; I just wanted to gloat. Isn't that what your publication is for?
    No, seriously (not that any of the above is untrue), this is about the guy down the street who wrote a novel. And he wanted me to read it and give it a review on Amazon. So I did the first but not the second. I told him two things: that the entire book read like a letter to Penthouse Forum; and that more importantly, while it was competently staged, what pissed me off was that I got to the last two paragraphs and THERE was the kernel for an interesting novel of ideas. Or a novel of interesting ideas, preferably. And I ran into him the other day and he had actually listened. He thought about it for months and now he's rewriting his novel along the lines I suggested. Now mind you it may turn out a Letter To Penthouse Forum Of Ideas. But still.

Always good news and bad news (or more TMI, cat edition)

    Not TMI by my usual standards, mind you. It's just that I finally am trying the fuller's earth cat litter. And the cats actually seem to prefer it. And it doesn't clump at all. Not a bit. OK, practically not at all. Not enough to notice. What to do, what to do? I guess so long as it doesn't stink of ammonia, I don't care too much. It's neat that it's so cheap. It would be neater if it worked as advertised. I guess with the loss of fuller as a trade, maybe folks are getting sloppier on what they call fuller's earth. I guess. I'll give it a week or so anyway. Darn it; and I was so thrilled to find the darn stuff. Well, at least I did and got to try it. (That's the good news part.)

Headed STRAIGHT for confession

    If you ever wanted to know what Hell is like, just try to change your Earthlink account. I've been paying them $22 per month for years for dial-up service. (OK, Dad paid them $22/mo for dial-up service for years; I've been paying it for a year or so.) This is ironic, since I haven't even had a land line for the last two or three of those years. But hey, I really like my cool email address.
    I had been meaning to correct this situation for ages, but month after month slid by and I never got around to it. This month however, I had a serious spur. My autopay setup uses my canceled debit card, and the new one won't arrive until after the billing date comes and goes. So I contacted Earthlink. God help me, I contacted Earthlink.
    I started with their Live Chat service and that worked great. Somebody identifying himself as Keith (SURE!) was totally helpful, telling me that I could switch to email service billing and save $14/mo. Unfortunately, he couldn't change my service through Live Chat, so I had to call Customer Service. Uh oh.
    No one will be surprised that I had to interact with computerized recorded voices. Unfortunately (there's that word again) I couldn't answer many of the required questions, not having dealt with Earthlink in ages. So I just kept yelling REPRESENTATIVE or ESCALATE until the computer got tired of it and finally delivered me to a person. The person, who also not surprisingly had a sub-continent accent, was able to see my account, confirm my account, put me on hold, and then shuffle me off to some other department the name of which I could never understand. After being on hold another unfathomable period ("Your call is very important to us..."), I got to talk to a gentleman also bearing a sub-continent accent who was in fact able to help. He didn't put me on hold; he just let me listen to nothing for minutes on end. But he did do the deed, so I'm grateful.
    BUT! When I noted that I didn't have a debit card for the moment and would need a paper bill, he told me that would be an extra $4. Then I asked for an email bill which I could pay by check and never really got an answer, possibly because I was sore annoyed at this point and noted that I had been paying them $22. for nothing for years and could he maybe comp me a month? And amazingly, he did! Go Indian guy! Then he had to read me off my account terms twice (go figure) and give me an Earthlink confirmation number. ("It will be very useful for you." "For what?" No answer.)
    This whole adventure took more than a half hour on the phone, plus the Live Chat. At the beginning of the phone call and on the website, Earthlink mentioned their award-winning customer service. I've been trying to imagine what award that could be. I'm thinking either one for hiring in Mumbai or something involving Old Nick. Has to be one or the other.

Will you quit?

    Amelia the cat has entered a new phase of demanding OUTSIDE at all times. She just whines endlessly, particularly fun when you're trying to deal with tax documents. These are still the taxes that I paid somebody else to do. Just wait until I'm actually trying to do my own!
    I get it, it's really pretty outside and it's boring inside. There's birds singing in every tree and squirrels to chase, and Harry is living the life of Riley outside. Also, I still suspect that she's having digestive difficulties and wants to find the right grass to eat to make it feel better. But she's driving me right up a tree. Tamara came over for a little while and was nice enough to go out with Amelia for a bit, but of course Amelia needs me there as a 160-lb security blanket. Hopefully she gets over this soon. We believe that she will love love love Tamara's fenced in back yard, and moreover be safe there. But I'd rather not have to live back there myself to make her feel safe. We'll just have to put up a big picture of me. That's the ticket!

Google, man, you know too much

    I was doing a search today. What I was searching, some, most or all of you might think of as TMI, so just say that it was the word "relationships." And before I had written the entire word, Google had suggested "Relationships between (my astrological sign and Tamara's)." Now my Facebook (and presumably Google+) accounts mention my birthday and my Facebook account mentions my relationship with Tamara. But I'm pretty sure that her account doesn't mention her birthday. Not being astrologically inclined, I've never searched relationships between my astrological sign and anybody's. So I have no idea why this would turn up as a top suggestion. Could be an astonishing coincidence of course. It might be that our two astrological signs are just the ultimate example of the two most compatible. (It do seem that way in real life!) But it just seems like somebody at the Googleplex knows a little too much. And speaking of too much, if anyone wants to know what I actually searched, just email. TMI is still my favorite!

Taxes and that other thing

    Apologies if I've used that subject line already; I've been doing this a while. I hired somebody to do the taxes for Dad, his estate, and succeeding trusts. There is no way to describe what a relief this was. I'm pretty bright and could have worked my way through it all most likely, but the sturm und drang would have been more or less limitless. (Death, taxes, storm and stress.) Of course, I hope I feel the same way when I get the bill, which should be very, very shortly. Well at least Dad has a refund coming; that'll help!
    Ms. Amelia still insists on going outside as much as possible, tricky since we're having another cool snap. It seems like taking her out just before what's usually feeding time is a pretty slick approach. It's a lot easier to get her back in this way!

Butterflieses

    It's still April, but I'm worried about the butterflies. I'd swear that in other years, I would be chasing after many butterflies by now. Unsuccessfully mind you, but they were at least there. I'm worried that the flood may have drowned the crysalises (or whatever the plural is) or swept them away. Probably silly, and probably not a big problem since butterflies fly and thus ones from neighboring areas will spread to replace any lost riverine ones. But I'm checking Facebook's On This Day feature every day for the onset of butterfly pictures I posted in past years. I got one today, but it was just a red-spotted purple. I want my zebra swallowtails, darn it!

The rebellion spreads!

    You know, the usual thing: sittin' on my porch with my kitties, bloggin'. It's darned nearly the nicest day ever and Amelia spent the morning begging to be let out and I spent the morning declining. Meanwhile, Tamara reports that the chihuahuas having been let out were highly resistant to coming back in. Cats and dogs probably plotted this when they were together the other day! What's next? I'm thinking flying cats and chihuahuas giving wedgies!
    Meanwhile at the gas station, a fella accosted me with "I'm a winner!" I couldn't see any evidence of this, but congratulated him all the same. He was giving the guy behind the counter some kind of business about having given him $20, but I couldn't figure it out at all. The guy behind the counter just cheerfully shrugged and took my money for gas. The winner went out with a friend. It's just possible that he had been drinking. I've got to start going into gas station quick stop shops more often! (This trip was a function of still waiting for my new debit card to be delivered. I keep forgetting that 7 to 10 business days is different than 7 to 10 days. Ah well.)

Must get new glasses!

    South Carolina has new license tags. They are singularly unimpressive and feature a very hard to read slogan. I made it out as "Wide Beaches & More." What's worse, I posted this on Facebook. The actual slogan is the state motto, "While I Breathe, I hope." Ooops! This was my point though; the slogan is almost impossible to read and the tags look amateurish. Also they started at M instead of A. Apparently, the alphabet works differently up in here. Well who wouldn't have guessed?
    Mr. Harry has more or less recovered from yesterday's chihuahua invasion, but it was touch and go for a little while there. I thought his spirit was broken, but he's more or less back to his combative self, and chatty and hungry again. I'm sure future interactions with the micro dogs will be less scarring for him. Anyway, he can live outside until next winter, which will no doubt help.

It's NOT funny!

    We are SO not laughing! Tamara brought both chihuahuas over this time instead of just one. When she just brought Lucy, older and calmer, the cats were puzzled but not in any way alarmed. With Zoey (Zuzu) as well (younger, crazier, more exuberant), well I don't know what happened. Neither Harry nor Amelia seemed in any way alarmed or scared. However, they wouldn't eat with these strangers around, or not much. And Harry wouldn't come in or out with chihuahuas in the way. Feisty, indomitable Harry, petrified of dogs smaller than he is. We TOTALLY are not laughing. Oh hell, yes we are!
    I eventually closed Harry and then later Amelia in the bathroom so they could eat in peace. I have items large enough to blockade the kitchen and did so, but neither would eat while they could see or hear chihuahuas. Hey, it's a first visit and a first time and I'm sure that everything will go a lot more smoothly sooner rather than later. They're really nice dogs and Harry and Amelia are sure to notice that yes, in fact, we're a lot bigger than they are. Now the rabbits might be another story... (But I'm sure that meeting will go well, too.)

The rebellion continues

    I've been letting Amelia out a LOT the past couple of days since the forecast said that weather would be really bad last night and today. I haven't given her any crap about chomping on the vegetation either. This morning at 6, she coughed up a major hairball (thoughtfully on the bathroom floor). I was hoping that that was the inspiration for all the agitation to go outside and the vegetation chomping.
    However, Little Miss Little Miss Little Miss Can't Be Wrong still insists on going out in spite of a tornado watch and the fact that it's feeding time, so I'm giving her another pre-tornado visit outside. Thus I'm writing my SECOND front porch blog entry, but my first tornado watch one. (It isn't really a tornado watch, although there was one for most of the day in all the counties south and west of here.) However, I want very badly to go see my sweetheart right now, so both the blog entry and the outdoor interlude are ending, right now. Well, right NOW.