Photography – Page 366 – red paper boat

The Rainy Season

November 15, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

The rainy season has begun in Indiana. One might think spring time would be the wettest part of the year, but we always seem to get a stretch of rain in the fall that lingers and lingers and, without fail, makes me think I should begin building an ark. The rain started last night, along with periodic lightning and rolling thunder. We’re under a tornado watch until this evening, too, so the weather could get exciting.

Can you spot the dog? Harriet is, unsurprisingly, not amused about the onset of cooler weather. She insists on being covered up while she sleeps, and who can blame her? Right now, she’s in bed, curled up under a pile of blankets and comforters. That’s what one does on a cold, rainy day, right? Sleep? I know that’s what I want to do. In fact, a nap is sounding quite inviting.

Taken last Saturday just after sunset. There were thick clouds covering the entire sky, except the section just above the western horizon. It’s not a very good photo, but I liked the contrast of the large, dark area against the small window of light.

We had a blazing sunset last Wednesday. It was like looking at a lava flow and seeing the cooled, blackened crust breaking open to show the glowing, molten lava underneath. (Yeah, I watch way too much nature television.)

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Random Dog-related Ranting

November 13, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

Pitties. They’re Pit Bulls, or Pit Bull Terriers, not Pitties. It’s bad enough when people baby talk to small children, but doing it to other adults is inexcusable.
Pitt Bulls. No, they are not related to Brad.
Dalmation. It’s Dalmatian, like, from Dalmatia.
German Sheppard. They’re German Shepherd Dogs, because they, well, herd, whereas a Sheppard is a wingnut FOX “news” personality.
Shepherd. Is that German Shepherd Dog, Australian Shepherd, Belgian Shepherd Dog, Anatolian Shepherd Dog, Central Asian Shepherd Dog, or Pyrenean Shepherd
Spade/Spaded. It’s spayed, please. Unless, of course, you’ve whacked your dog over the head with a damned shovel, then you can call it a spade.
Furkids. O ick.
Skinkids. O ickier.
My dogs are like my children. Do yourself and your dogs a favor, and treat them like dogs. Children, hopefully, will one day grow up, leave home, and become useful members of human society. Dogs, not so much. (Yes, I know that many dogs are far more useful than certain humans could ever hope to be, but I think you understand my meaning.) By all means, enjoy them and spoil them rotten–the dogs, not the children–but do not forget that they are an alien species, and that they don’t necessarily understand or abide by our rules and customs.
Doodles. Please don’t get suckered into buying a high-priced mixed breed dog that you can get from the shelter for a paltry adoption fee. I have yet to see evidence that anyone breeding any sort of Poodle mixes are doing so responsibly, so why reward their irresponsible behavior with your hard-earned money? It is far better to obtain your next dog from a shelter or rescue group. You’ll be giving a dog a much needed home without giving crappy breeders incentive to continue churning out more pups for bucks.
Non-shedding. There is no such thing. If it has hair, it sheds. Furthermore, don’t assume that because it’s low-shedding, that you will not be allergic to it. People are commonly allergic to dog dander, which exists independent of how much the dog sheds.
Short-hair = Less shedding. True, many short haired dogs have single coats, which means they are easier to groom, but that does not mean they will not drop hair all over your furniture, clothes, carpet, car, etc. Worse, those short hairs that have glued themselves to every surface in your home are likely barbed, so that they work their way into fabric like a hook into a fish’s mouth. In other words, you cannot brush them off your furniture or clothes–they’re stuck there, like cockle burrs.
Getting rid of your dog because you’re moving. If you can have a dog where you currently live, then surely you can find similar accommodation in your new location.
My dog bit someone, so I need to find a new home for it. Who in their right minds thinks that’s a good idea? If the dog’s current owner cannot house it safely, then what makes them think that someone else can?
Free to good home, needs room to run in the country. That’s a spectacularly bad idea. Aside from the risk of being stolen or hit by cars, loose dogs are at risk of being shot or poisoned when they, inevitably, stray onto neighboring property. They are also at risk of being attacked by other dogs or wildlife. It’s never, ever a good idea to allow dogs to run loose. Never mind that “home with room to run in the country” is a myth made up to placate small children by parents who want to dump the family dog at the nearest shelter.
My lab is 100 lbs of pure muscle. If your Lab truly weighs that much, he’s either a draft horse or he’s morbidly obese.
My dog is overweight, even though I don’t over-feed him and he gets plenty of exercise. I’m sorry, but barring a medical condition, if your dog is overweight, it is either because he is not receiving enough exercise or because you are feeding him too much. It’s a simple math equation. One thing to keep in mind is that most dog food labels over state the amount of food you should give your dog. If your dog is overweight, try increasing exercise, decreasing the amount of food, and adding low calorie items for bulk (e.g. plain, canned pumpkin, frozen green beans, etc.).
My dog’s not fat, he’s just big boned. My ass. I’ve seen a lot of overweight dogs whose owners swear they are “just right.” And, how do they know their dogs aren’t overweight? Their vets have said they’re “okay” or they haven’t told them to put the dog on a diet. I’m sorry, but my experience is that many vets either don’t know what a fit dog looks like (they get used to seeing so many overweight dogs that they become acclimated to it) or they are afraid to tell their clients that their dog is a butterball. For example, when compared to the Purina weight chart that hangs in many vet offices, my dog would be underweight, verging on thin (she’s somewhere between 3 and 4). She’s in very good shape, though. If she weighed enough to look like the “ideal” dog, she’d be unhealthily overweight.
My dog is in heat and I want to breed her to your dog. Um, that’s not possible. And, if it were, I wouldn’t allow it. Besides, if you can’t tell the sex of a docked, short-haired dog, do you really think you have any business breeding?
My dog is friendly, so it’s okay if he says “Hi” to your dog. No, it’s not okay. My dog is not dog-friendly, and she does not appreciate strange dogs approaching her. Please keep your dog under control and out of my dog’s space.
My dog is clueless, so it’s okay if your dog kicks his butt. No, that’s not okay, either. It’s not my dog’s job to train your dog not to be a jerk. Please put your dog on a lead, and do whatever you have to to keep him from invading my dog’s space.
It’s okay if your dog jumps on me, I like it. No, that’s not okay, either. My dog is a Boxer, and the breed is notoriously difficult to train not to jump on people. Every time you allow or encourage her to put her feet on you, you undermine the training I’ve done to stop her from jumping on people. Please, knock it off.
If you didn’t want me to pet your dog, you shouldn’t have left your car window rolled down. Dude, if you don’t get your arm out of my car, I’m going to call the police. Lowered window or not, you’ve got no right to help yourself to my private property. And that goes double for my dog. Besides, what kind of a jackass sticks his arm into a car to pet a strange dog?
One little bite won’t hurt anything. Wanna bet? Unless you’re going to be the one stuck in a confined space with my dog, please, for the love of all that’s good in this world, do not give her a bite of your sauerkraut.

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

All About Asses

November 11, 2005October 4, 2015 Shelly

First, the Crankypantsing and Nitpicking:

It’s crapS shoot, not crap shoot. Shooting crap is what Kenny did, and if that’s what you’re suffering from, I suggest seeking medical attention ASAP.
I hope that whoever went a-Googling for “ejaculating your cat” found, um, help. Ew.
It’s not a good idea to drive down the highway in the pitch dark without headlights. I’m just sayin’. Even if it weren’t a safety issue, it tends to creep out people like me when you sneak up behind us. Asswagon.
I hope that whoever gave me the plague (respiratory, not crap-shooting) is enjoying my misery, because I’m sure as hell not. I’m tired of blowing my nose and sucking on cough drops. Enough, already!

This is the view from my front door, looking to the southeast. I got only a few photos of the foliage after it (finally!) turned color, but before it got blown to smithereens by last weekend’s storm. This was taken on the one nice, clear day we had during that interval.

Rory Update:

Rory had PU (Perineal Urethrostomy) surgery on Tuesday. Basically, it involves amputation of the penis and widening of the urethra. This was the last resort for him, as his urethra and bladder were in terrible shape from years of crystals and, we found, stones. He was a mass of inflamed scar tissue. Once we’re able to get the uroliths properly diagnosed, he can be put on a food that will inhibit their growth. The surgery will hopefully allow him to pass any stones or crystals that do develop.

The surgery went well, but he was stressed by being at the vet, so she recommended that I take him home ASAP. I picked him up Wednesday after work. He looked good, and seemed relatively comfortable and relaxed during the drive home. He stretched out in his carrier and chatted with me. I think he now understands that when I pick him up at the vet, it means he’s going home, home, home.

Physically and mentally, I think he’s doing well. His stitches look good, though he’s got the funniest baboon ass in captivity. It’s shaved and still dyed red from the antiseptic. I’ll try to get a photo of it (it’s truly special), if I can. He’s all about the sweet, sweet lovin’, though, so getting a photo of his back end will be difficult. He’s too busy having me scratch and rub his head and neck to turn around.

He’s not into the prescription food, unfortunately. I think part of the problem is that it’s canned, and he’s not a big fan of canned food. He usually takes a couple of bites and leaves the rest. The vet said that, since we’re waiting for urolith analysis, I can go ahead and feed him his old food for the time being. It took him awhile to get the knack of eating with the satellite dish around his head, but by late yesterday afternoon, he was getting pretty good at it. He’s still not drinking on his own, though, so I’m having to force water down him with a syringe. He’s not happy about it, but he’s got the attention span of a gnat, so as soon as I’m finished, he forgets that he hates me. It’s nice to have a cat who is incapable of holding a grudge.

He’s peeing like a champ, which is a huge relief–nice, big pools of it, too, instead of the little spots that were common when he’d start blocking or would get a UTI. I’m concerned that he’s not had a bowel movement, but I think the fact that he fasted for a few days accounts for that. He didn’t start eating well until later in the day yesterday, so it may take awhile for things to start, um, moving through him properly.

Photography

St. Andrew’s Cross Spider

November 9, 2005October 4, 2015 Shelly

Apparently, all argiope spiders are commonly called St. Andrew’s Cross spiders, for the way they stretch their legs into an elongated X shape while sitting in their webs (I had erroneously thought that the name came from the large X pattern many of them weave into their webs). My particular spider is Agriope aurantia, otherwise known as the black and yellow garden spider, yellow garden spider, orb weaver, and writing spider. They’re non-aggressive, but even if they do bite, their venom isn’t generally bothersome to humans.

Photography

Autumn Photoblogging

November 8, 2005October 4, 2015 Shelly

St. Andrews Cross Spider (Argiope aurantia)

The grasshopper was hanging out on my deck this afternoon. It’s a little late in the season for bugs, but it’s been warm, so they’re still active. There was something cricket-like chirping away last night, and the evil Japanese beetles are swarming.

We’ve had a few nice sunsets recently. The third photo is of the last full moon, rising in the east, with the Belt of Venus.

I had been dubious about the trees turning color, but we seem to have gotten enough rain in time. Most of the leaves have dropped, after last weekend’s blowing winds, but I got a few photos before that happened. I love the contrast of the oranges, yellows, and reds–lit by the near-setting sun–against the heavy, grey clouds.

Auntie Em! Auntie Em! As I mentioned, we had a hell of a storm over the weekend. It had been super windy during the day on Saturday, but warm and the sky seemed to clear up a bit in the afternoon. That night, the wind picked up, with gusts up to 65mph. Yikes! I woke up at 1:45, scared half to death. There aren’t any storm sirens, because I live in the country, so I turned on the television to see if there were any weather alerts. The Terre Haute stations, which usually have the best weather coverage for my area, were still on regular programming. ABC from Indy had radar up, but, because Indy is the center of their universe, they weren’t showing or discussing what was going on in the southern part of the state. Bastards!

A little after 2:00am, CBS from Terra Haute started covering the storm. We were under a severe thunderstorm warning, but as far as the radar and coverage went, the storm didn’t sound all that serious. It slacked off a bit, then it started to hail, then all hell broke loose. Um, that’s when tornadoes usually occur–on the back end of the storm. And they’re often accompanied by hail. Yikes. Luckily, all we had were heavy straight-line winds. The folks south of us, though, were not as lucky. [ETA: According to Wikipedia, 25 people died. It was the deadliest tornado to hit the state in 30 years.]

Tangent Alert! While I was flipping channels, looking for storm info, I came across an episode of Soul Train. That show is still on? Oh my. What really caught my attention, though, was the animated Soul Train logo. How rude! I looked to see if I could find it online, but couldn’t. So, I shall attempt to describe it. Picture an animated, silver steam engine. Picture it with a big, fat penis on top. Picture the penis ejaculating spasmotically. Picture the train thrusting in time to the penis’ spasms. O ick. Perhaps that might explain why the show airs at 2am?

I’m supposed to go to Chicago tomorrow night, so see Bauhaus. It doesn’t look like it’s going to happen, though, which I’m bummed about. Rory-cat is having surgery this afternoon, and will hopefully come home tomorrow, so I’ll have to stay home to keep an eye on him. He spent a week and a half hospitalized for a severe UTI, struvite crystals, and recurring blockages. I brought him home yesterday and he blocked again. He was in good spirits, soliciting attention and chin rubs, but he wasn’t eating, drinking, or eliminating. Clearly, he was blocked again. The last resort is surgery to have his penis amputated and to widen his urethra. Hopefully, it will successfully solve his problems, and he’ll be able to have a good quality of life. He’s a damnfine cat, and I think he deserves to have a shot at having a good, comfortable life, if possible.

Meta, Pets, Photography

The face of Jesus in my soup…

October 27, 2005January 16, 2016 Shelly

Or, apparently, in a tree. Or here. He really is everywhere!

Yahoo is now giving unlimited space for photo storage. I haven’t been actively using my storage space there, because it’s problematic for non-Yahoo users to access, and, they used to have a 20mb storage limit. Twenty megabytes? It is for to laugh!

When I started blogging, I used Hello (a Google-Picasa tie-in), then Flickr. Now, I use a combination of Flickr, my own web space, and Blogger’s photo storage. I’d totally forgotten about my Yahoo space until I got a courtesy reminder from them, telling me that if I did not access my photos at least once every six months, they would delete them. I took a quick look, just to make sure there wasn’t anything important stored there (nope), and saw this photo. The quality is crappy, and I have no idea when it was taken–at least a couple of years ago, I think–but it’s a typical “grazing cow dog” photo, so I thought I’d post it here. Harriet does like her fresh greens!

In other animal news, Rory has yet another UTI. There was a tiny amount of blood in his urine this morning, so I made an appointment to have him seen first thing tomorrow. I know he can’t be comfortable, and he really ought to be seen today, but I can’t face taking another animal back to the old vet. I managed to find another vet who is taking new clients (not as easy as one might think!), but they can’t see him until tomorrow morning.

On the bright side, I got more information and assistance, just from one phone call, than I ever got from the old vet’s office. I’m optimistic, both about the quality of care and the possibility that we may be able to finally get Rory’s crystal problem under control. Another plus is that they don’t usually keep animals overnight. They’re not staffed at night (most regular vets are not), and they feel that animals will be better off at home, where they have supervision and will be more comfortable. I tend to agree.

Today’s cool website contains a collection of black and white photographs, taken from long lost film found in old cameras.

And now, let’s have some fun with searching. The following are search strings used to arrive at either my website or blog:

tacky religious art
christian sationery
dog with a blue tongue
marble catholic sculptures
sleeping in curlers
scintillating scotoma (this one pops up about once or twice a month)
puggles (almost a daily occurrence)
unbleached waxed bag
silly shelly blog (well, duh!)
cigarette burns on children (another that pops up once or twice a month)
paris hilton porn
acupuncture mannequin

Pets, Photography

Stealth Brindle

October 26, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I was sold a pig in a poke. Well, not exactly sold. And, not exactly a pig. Or, a poke, either, for that matter. But! For years, I thought Harriet was fawn. Then, one day, I noticed that her coat looked a bit like tiger maple. I looked more closely, and saw that she had faint brindle striping along her shoulders and black stripes on the backs of her hind legs.

The funny thing is that I really prefer brindle to fawn. Some day, I’ll have a plain, dark brindle Boxer. Harriet has way too much flash for my tastes. Not that I don’t think she’s the prettiest dog EVAR, mind you. I’m just partial to less white. I also think that breeding for excess flash in Boxers is problematic, as it leads to more white (and potentially deaf) dogs being born. If flash weren’t so popular, and if it weren’t being actively bred for, there would likely be fewer deaf, white Boxers born. I just can’t get behind breeding practices that knowingly create dogs with potentially deadly health problems. (Deaf dogs are a challenge to train and are at higher risk of ending up being euthanized. It isn’t a trivial issue.)

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Autumn Musings

October 6, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

It’s been nice to be back on my own schedule this week, though reacclimating myself to waking up at 4am has been unpleasant. I’m also having to get used to having Wednesdays off instead of Fridays. It means giving up my three-day weekends, which isn’t ideal, but I can rearrange it if I end up hating it. Flex-time is a godsend.

I spent this morning doing a whole lot of nothing, and it felt wonderful. I did manage to make a crockpot full of green beans and potatoes. I’ve been craving them for days. They turned out beautifully. I don’t use ham or anything meaty in them, but a lots of garlic and onion, and few drops of liquid smoke, some tamari, and some liquid aminos makes a nice, rich broth.

The new car is just as delightful as I thought it would be. It handles beautifully. I’ve never been very interested in cars, but I’m finding that there are zillions of little things the new car has that make me very, very happy (like the CD player restarting at the same place in the song, instead at the beginning of the CD, or headlights that go on and off automagically). But, the biggest thing I’ve noticed is that I don’t hold my breath every time I stop at a light. I hadn’t realized just how habitually on edge I’d gotten, because the MPoD had been dying whenever I came to a stop. I also don’t have half my mind on searching for new noises and problems. I almost enjoy driving, now.

I can’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that I’m now one of those eeevil SUV owners. But! It’s not a huge-assed SUV, it’s more of a smidgeon SUV-ette. It’s nowhere near as big as some of the monsters on the road. If it were, I wouldn’t be comfortable driving it. It is lots bigger than the MPoD, though. The little gravel patch that I park on, which was more than wide enough for the MPoD, isn’t quite wide enough for the new car. Hopefully, Ralph will dump some more gravel in my parking area the next time he re-gravels the driveway.

And now for gratuitous cute animal photos.

Harriet and I were lounging on the couch, watching teevee. I was trying to get a picture of her with her eyes closed, but every time she heard the camera focusing, she opened them. Still, it’s a pretty cute picture. I love the way she curls up her feet. Her back end is raised up because her far hind leg is tucked underneath her. She sleeps in the strangest positions.

Pandora, Queen of Bones. Or so she’d like everyone to believe. She occasionally curls up on the dog’s mat, with the her bones. They aren’t meaty or yummy, and even if they were, Pan hasn’t got any teeth to chew them with, so I don’t know what the attraction is. (Please ignore the layer of dust on the stereo cabinet. I certainly do! I figure that if I don’t pay attention to it, it might go away. Or, at least, it won’t bother me.)

As I was leaving home one morning last week, there was a beautiful layer of fog between the far stand of trees and the southeastern ridge. A week later, at about the same time of day, the sun was out and sparkling dazzingly on the fallow field behind my house. Despite the warm temperatures (highs in the mid-80s), you can tell that autumn is here. The back roads have brown leaves scuttling across them, which crunch satisfyingly when you drive over them. The walnut trees started losing their leaves weeks ago (I suspect the summer’s drought is to blame) and the leaves on the sassafras trees are turning scarlet.

You can really tell, in the bottom two photos, that the leaves are turning color. The first was taken on September 15, the second, on October 5. The closer, framing trees have dropped a lot of their leaves, the far, center tree has turned brown, and the mustard is no longer in flower.

It’s supposed to cool off quite a bit on Thursday. I’m a little torn. On the one hand, I love the cooler weather and turning leaves of fall, but I’m also not ready for truly cold weather to set in. Not that I don’t enjoy cold weather–I do!–but that I don’t want to have to invest in propane just yet. I don’t even want to think what a tankful will cost. I’m still planning on moving, but now I’m weighing the pros and cons of waiting a bit. On the bright side, I now have a car that will fit most everything I own!

It’s crankypantsing time!

1. Blogger. For the past few days, it’s been really unreliable, and seems to have just crashed again. This is the third time I’ve tried to upload this post, and the third time I’ve gotten a “Cannot find server” message. It looks like I’ll have to save this as a text file and upload it before work on Thursday. But hey, it’s free, right?

2. Models who have their own TeeVee shows. Has anyone seen the Tyra Banks show? I’ve watched a couple of episodes (I’m masochistic, that way), and was gobsmacked. She had on a couple who had requested a “free pass,” so that they could go out and see other people for 24 hours. WTF?! First, why do they need Tyra’s permission to see other people? Second, why on earth do people think that’s a good idea? The rationale seems to be that testing themselves with other people will show them whether or not their relationship is strong enough to take to the next level (presumably, marriage). I’m sorry, but if you’re even considering such a dumassed thing, then it seems pretty obvious to me that the relationship is in trouble.

3. My dryer, which died last week. I’m hesitant to replace it, because it may soon be redundant. Many of the houses and apartments I’ve looked at have washers, dryers, and dishwashers provided. But, air drying doesn’t remove lint and cat/dog hair. In the interim, I guess I could go to the laundromat, but that’s a time consuming pain in the ass.

4. My television antenna, which decided to stop working a couple of months ago. So now I can now only get two channels instead of three and a half. Hrmph! I can get FOX and PBS just fine, with the addition of a UHF booster, but I can’t get CBS and NBC, which means I’m missing Survivor and The Amazing Race. (This also explains why I was watching the Tyra Banks show.) I think I’ll put this in the pro Moving ASAP column.

Funnily enough, the antenna stopped working the same day Elliott died. I’d been out mowing and weed whacking earlier that day, so at first, I assumed I’d accidentally cut the antenna line. I don’t know what’s wrong with it–I’m scared to death of heights, so I’m not about to climb up there to investigate. Ralph said he’d come take a look at it, but I’m not holding my breath.

5. The phrase “scan in.” There is no in, out, up, or down–it’s just scanning. Period. Also, I can’t stand it when people add an extraneous “the” in front of words that do not need it.

6. E-mail forwards. You may think it’s the funniest damned thing since the invention of humor, but please, for the love of all that’s good in this world, don’t send it to me. I love Teh Funni, but I’m afraid that e-mail forwards do not make the cut. Also, do not cross-post it to all your mail lists. It’s sure to be off-topic and sharing it with everyone will not make you popular. Worse, if the recipients have multiple lists in common with you, they will receive it multiple times, thus multiplying your unpopularity. yOu hAv3 b33n wArn3d.

Photography

The Car Saga

September 30, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

I’ve had no luck finding the Subaru Forester of my dreams. People hang onto them like grim death. I pretty much gave up on getting a car I really liked. My next choice was a 5-door Focus, which would’ve been fine, but they, alas, are also currently non-existent in my area. Drat. I was ready to settle for just about anything with wheels, a hatchback, and an engine that didn’t hemorrhage oil, so last Monday, I went and looked at a 2001 Ford Taurus wagon that was not not not what I wanted. It had plenty of room for dog crates and was in good shape. But, o ick. I decided to sleep on it, and was resigned to go picking it up on Wednesday, but on my way there, I saw the car I had originally wanted but talked myself out of: a Chevy Tracker. Squee!

I’d decided a Tracker was not really reasonable, because I really didn’t need a V6. A 4-cylinder engine is plenty for what I need, but everything else I’ve looked at has been a V6 (Forrester and Taurus were picks 1 and 2). The Tracker’s part-time 4wd would’ve been nice, but wasn’t absolutely necessary. But, since I couldn’t find a Forester, and the next-best thing I could find was a Taurus wagon (a V6, FWD), going back to my original Plan A now seems reasonable. If I’m going to drive a V6, it may as well be the one I really, really, really like, right? [Addendum: The Tracker is actually a four-cylinder, so I’m well pleased.]

The late, lamented MoonPie of Delight

So, anyway… I saw my Tracker at a tiny place in Spencer that usually only has pick-em-up trucks. The Tracker hadn’t been there the day before (I’ve been obsessively watching every car place between home and work). I stopped to look at it and talked to to Eric the Car Lot Guy. It was a little newer and spendier than I had planned on, but he came down $2k plus gave me $2k in trade-in for the MPoD (boggle), so it ended up being the same price as the Taurus. My financing went through, and I can go sign the paperwork and, hopefully, pick it up tomorrow morning. Sweet! It’s a 2002 hardtop, 4-door, part-time 4WD, low mileage, one-owner, cloth interior (I hate leather seats) and, get this, it’s indigo blue. Color is at the bottom of my Wish List, of course, but indigo is my first color choice. And, it’s got a CD player. No more listening to the dreaded Quality Rock (Real Variety).

I cannot believe this has worked out this beautifully. It makes me very thankful that I was able to wait until I could find exactly what I wanted. Thank you Mr. B and Ms. Lea. You both rock!

So, goodbye, faithful MoonPie of Delight. A better toy car I couldn’t have asked for. You served me well and will be fondly remembered.

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Happy Monday

September 26, 2005November 15, 2015 Shelly

I’ve been trying to remember to take photos of the sun shining on the dewy fence. It’s all grown up and, ahem, “rustic” looking right now, which is kind of picturesque. I’m not a big fan of yardwork, at the best of times, and with the uncertainty of my living situation, I’m feeling even less motivated than I normally do. My other excuse is that we’ve been getting an unholy amount of rain recently. It finally cleared up today, after 24 solid hours of rain, but it’s hot and humid and there’s no way the grass is going to dry any time this century.

The previous day had started with pea soup fog–dangerous, but beautiful in a spooky sort of way.

And now for the gratuitous dogblogging. That’s the lovely and talented Miss Brown, doing a canine headstand. She props herself against me, then inverts herself until she’s standing on her head. She started to slide out of position when I got up to get the camera, because her support was gone. I had to act quickly, in order to get this picture, so it’s a little blurry. But I think you can get the general idea–top of head on couch, butt in air, much funny to be had by all.

Oh, and note the glowy, non-photo blue eyes. They’re proof positive that she is eeevil.

In other news, I stayed home from work today to do some more car shopping. It looks like I may end up with a Ford Taurus wagon. It’s bigger than I want, but at this point, I’ll take anything with wheels and an engine that doesn’t hemorrhage oil. Oh, and a hatchback. I found plenty of smaller cars, but none were a closer fit than the Taurus. I went ahead and got my financing sorted out, so that I can pretty much just go in and pick it up on Wednesday after co-op delivery.

I’ve also been checking out rentals in Bloomington, and am pleasantly surprised at how many ads there are for pet-friendly housing, most all well within my price range. Whew! And it’s a good thing, too, because my landfolks are really starting to make me uncomfortable.

Ralph came over on Saturday (he showed up while the SBC guy was fixing my phone line), and told me that when Katrina left, she’d broken all the windows and toilets in their old place, and had burned all his clothes. Sweet fancy Jeebus! I can’t even imagine doing something like that, no matter how pissed off I was. That’s just seriously uncool. And, according to him, the property is his. He’s supposedly coming over this weekend to fix things. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Then, this afternoon, Katrina called. She says the property is hers, and that she still wants me to sign a lease. Ostensibly, it’s to protect me. Hell, NO. I have no intention of getting in the middle of their little shitfit! I told her I didn’t think it would protect me, as leases aren’t transferable. She disagreed. I told her I didn’t want to sign anything right now, but thanks anyway. She seems to think Ralph will kick me out. So what? I don’t think he will. I like Ralph, we’ve always gotten along just fine, and I don’t think it would be in his best interests to kick me out–if he does, no biggie, I’ll just move. Then Katrina told me that she’d called Ralph and told him I didn’t want him bothering me. As in, he’s not supposed to talk to me about anything related to the property or my living here. Not only did I say nothing of the sort, but what the hell business is it of hers?! The only thing I told Ralph is that I don’t want to be in the middle of their drama. I told him I was perfectly happy to deal with him instead of her, in fact, I’d prefer it. At no time did I tell him or Katrina that I didn’t want Ralph to “bother me.”