Two things

The peanut gallery at the meeting to decide what to do with Michigan and Florida's votes (as well as some of the committee members) made me physically ill. My husband kept promising that the Dems wouldn't screw it up, but they sure are giving it their best shot. Ugh!

I have not yet started Twittering, and I haved a wuestion. Is there any benefit in it for someone who cannot use the computer at work and tries not to be on it for long stretches at home? Just wondering.

Anybody want a couple or three cats?

"They" say that if you have multiple cats, you should have a litter box for each cat plus an extra. Well, we have three cats. Perhaps I simply lack imagination, but I cannot come up with a place for a third litter box, much less a fourth. Unless they start making "bunk boxes," we are stuck with two.

I scooped out the boxes just 2 days ago. I didn't expect it to smell like roses, but when I walked into the laundry room this afternoon, I thought I might fall down from the odor of urea. I emptied both boxes completely, washed them out, refilled them with new litter with added baking soda, threw out the little mat that is supposed to keep them from tracking litter out of the box, threw out the silly filters, and scrubbed the floor. I wasn't thrilled about this whole series of events, but the three cats watching me every step of the way (including through the window as I hosed out the boxes) really pissed me off. I think I said "fuck off" about 8 times, "I despise you" around 4 times, and "would you quit looking at me you furry beasts?" at least once.

Has anyone had any success potty training cats??

Short conversations

Sometimes the short conversations are as interesting as the long ones....at least to me.

Scenario #1
Sweetheart and I were watching numerous birds in the wet grass outside the window.

Me--They are just splashing around.
Him--They're looking for something to eat. Probably eating Spencer's shit.
Me--Well, at least that's better than watching Spencer eat his own shit.
Him--Yep, I guess so.

Scenario #2
Granddaddy is making the niece (age 7) and the nephew (age 4) go to the bathroom before leaving the house. (Remember those days?? "Everyone must pee before getting into the car.")

Nephew--Look, Big Sister, I can pee without pulling down my big boy pants. I just put my penis through this hole.
Niece--Not. Interested. (Moves on to the next thing without further response.)


***I feel just a bit bad about posting this before my sister even hears the story, but Pops doesn't have a blog, and she's been too busy to post much at her place.

Memorial Day Weekend

I have been interested in going to the Kerrville Folk Festival for a while, and this year we made it. We met one of my best friends and her boyfriend fairly late Friday. Sweetheart did an amazing job of packing the car and dropping Spencer off at the kennel before picking me up after work. We arrived around dinnertime, and had some mexican food and margaritas (only I had a daquiri since tequila and I had a falling out a number of years ago. Even before I finished a single one, I kept calling it a margarita even though it wasn't one. Sweetheart had to remind me.) My friend T and I picked up where we left off even though it's been way too long since I had seen her. This included silliness enough to embarass my tolerant husband.

The next morning we had waffles.

What, waffles where you live aren't shaped like your state?

After breakfast, it was time to get started on the cake. It was P's birthday, he plays guitar, and we were at a music festival. It seemed like the thing to do. I had gotten started at home since we were driving and they were flying.


I added the colors and T mixed them in--even when I managed to mistake yellow for red--or vice versa, I can't remember now--just that I did it wrong.


I used a piping bag for the first time with reasonable success.


I must say that Martha usually has a more conducive work station than we had to use.


However, I thought the finished product was pretty darn good. It's hard to see because I take snapshots and not Photos, but there is a pick guard and sound hole that are darker than the guitar body.


For some reason this picture reminds me of the Shake-and-bake commercial, "and we helped."


The birthday boy seemed pleased with the results.


As for the festival itself, I had a blast. I heard some old favorites and some new folks I really liked. There is a definite hippy feel to this festival compared to the one I have gone to the past 6 years. The tie dye is much more prevalent. They compost the trash. They do not sell any disposable cups. You can buy your own at a reasonable rate or bring one from home and have it filled at a price according to its size.

One moment I loved was seeing a fairly "girly girl" carefully study the biker guy in front of her and ask her mother to fix her bandanna "like his."


One artist was only 17 years old and very talented. He did have a bit more "angst" thank I generally enjoy, but his guitar playing, poise and interactions with the audience were really great. He quoted Dylan and sang a protest song about Pluto being stripped of its planet status. He had a great line about the president being upset, "What do you mean, I love that dog!" (as in Mickey Mouse) "Cheney, get the gun!"

Another musician had a great song about a baseball pitcher throwing a no hitter on a day he had mistaken for an off day and taken some acid. I have some research to do, but I believe it to be a true story. He said, "I think the fact that he now works as a drug counselor has something to do with the fact he has not responded to either CD I sent him."

What's a festival without a few craft booths, we both bought anklets...


And I bought some armadillo earrings.

They would be more accurate if they were upside down--I have never seen one that was't hanging out as road kill.

Another cool thing was that the festival cared not that we brought in two pitchers--one filled with homemade sangria and the other with homemade mojitos. This monkey that follows me around the country tried to steal one.


It was a great weekend. Sweetheart and I had a chance to relax and get away from everyday life, visiting with good friends seen far too seldom, and music in the scorching hot sun. Who could ask for anything more?

Teaser post

Two teaser photos of a wonderful weekend of music, fun, mojitos, guitar cake, and friends.

One of me and my hubby, and one of me and my fabulous friend from New Jersey who I don't get to see nearly enough. More to follow.

Frivolous food post

So, rather than post about how I had an anxiety attack in the middle of the night or other such stupid stuff, I bring you Sophie's food quirks.

Eclairs should have a custard filling, not icing.

Fruits and nuts do not belong in salads.

Oranges are absolutely delicious, but I never eat them unless someone else peels or slices them.

Mint ice cream should be pink or white. This does not mean I will turn down the green kind.

Spinach is wonderful. Other greens--mustard, turnip, and whatever other kind of greens ther are suck.

Liver is wrong. Not because of the taste, but because of the texture. I have eaten goose liver pate that made my knees weak.

Carrots and cauliflower should be eaten raw.

Broccoli and spinach should be eaten cooked.

Appropriate sherbet flavors include lime, orange, pineapple, and raspberry. Strawberry is incredibly inappropriate.

Pop tarts should be made in one flaveor only--strawberry frosted.

Beets should be eaten cold and pickled--not cooked.

The first person who ate cottage cheese must have been very hungry. It is not food.

The scary thing is that I was able to come up with this list in about 5 minutes. I'm not a picky eater, but it seems difficult to defend at the moment.

So, what about you. I know I'm a freak, but I also know I'm not the only one. Fess up, okay?

I must admit to being in a slump regarding commenting. I have read others state the same thing. I'm hoping to change that very soon.

Sweetheart and I are off for a weekend with one of my favorite friends and her boyfriend. Should be good.

Monday stuff

I do not like shopping for a bathing suit. However, shopping for bathing suits for two hyper 9 1/2 year olds isn't better...and it very well may be worse.

I have decided that I have been too grumpy, snipey, sleepy, weepy and jittery. Since those are not the dwarves that I prefer to be, it is time once again for a change. I made the phone call today to schedule an appointment with the shrink to adjust my crazy meds. I am looking forward to this about as much as I would having a bunionectomy or purchasing bathing suits for a dozen wired up kids. My shrink moved so I have to go see a new one. I don't think that's going to help, but perhaps this guy will have some ideas she didn't. My understanding is that Eff*xor is one of the worst drugs to withdraw from, so I know the process will be less than fun. I know it has to happen, so I'm gonna suck it up and deal with it.