BIG POT!

Before...

After!!...

After finishing the last batch yesterday, I've got 12 4oz jars and three 12oz. THICK!  Thanks for the opinions and advice! 

Juniorette is enjoying the warmth and sunshine too; she's finally started to go exploring around the place a bit, instead of sleeping under The Oven 24/7. It's good to see her looking well, fur groomed and fluffy, and just being a cat.

Discovering a liking for onion shoots...

Yes love, that's my CLEAN copper pot! Don't even THINK about it!

And yes love, that's a hose, with running water... so you'd best stay away from the pot, eh?!

She's lovely. I'm totally smitten. She's sat on the step now, looking in at me through the screen door. Okay Juniorette, I'll come out and play for a while.

* I wasn't going to blog today ~ it's been a busy one, and I was hoping Shane might get home tonight as he's delivering here in Ohio. But his clock has run out of driving hours and he's still waiting to be unloaded, so he'll be spending the night at the Pilot. Bummer.

* But look on the bright side! No covers being dragged off me when he rolls over in the night, and I get all that space to myself!

It looks very ruby-coloured, but I think that must have been the lighting or something ~ it's actually a deep brown, thick,and delicious. Oh yeah...  This weekend we're going to play about making some sort of labels for them. 

No wonder I had "sticky keys". And still do. *Sigh*. It was impossible to get it completely cleaned out, and when I tried to get the whole base out it sort of stuck in the middle and wouldn't budge, no matter how I tried to pull at it. I now have a slightly bent , non-working keyboard. I should learn to leave things alone.

* I had a great morning out with Roger yesterday! We called at the Goodwill store, and although they didn't seem to have a flesh-coloured spandex ski-suit (sorry Bill, I tried! ), I did find the bargain of the year... a full-length, dark green velvet bathrobe with long fluted sleeves and ruffled neckline. WOOT! "Bathrobe" doesn't do it justice, it's absolutely gorgeous. Victoria's Secret! And... only $5!!! Omigod. I nearly fell over. I bought it for Shane's daughter for her birthday next month. She's really into gypsy/renaissance type stuff, and I know she's going to LOVE it.

* We also called at one of Roger's favourite Pawn shops, they stock a load of ham radio gear and he's as much into that as I am Multiply. They were selling DVDs, $5 for TWO, and I found "The Boondock Saints"!! OMIGOD!!! It was recommended to me a bit back so I ordered it at the library and It Is AWESOME. Well up in my top 5 favourite movies, and now I have my own copy. I am chuffed to BITS!  

* I officially  "have a cat" now, if such a thing is possible. I tend to believe they own you, and have had plenty of past experience to prove it. Anyway, Junior's status has been raised from "stray cat living under The Oven and being given a bit of food" to fully-fledged My Cat.

When he first started sleeping in the warmth of The Oven just before Christmas, he was such a sickly, poorly thing that we didn't really expect him to survive long. He was the runt of last spring's litter and had to fight for his food up at Roger's trailer from the get-go ~ Roger feeds LOADS of them up there. Then in the summer he tangled with a raccoon, we think, and got his mouth badly injured. So things weren't looking too clever when he moved down here. For a good week or more we couldn't get him to eat. He justed wanted to be warm.  His chest rattled like he was drowning, and his left eye was so badly infected we thought he'd lose it... even now I'm unsure of what his sight is like, it's very odd-looking compared to the other. His mouth was also still not healed, and we fully expected a dead cat at New Year.

He made it through though, and over the last couple of months he's come along nicely ~ not quite in leaps and bounds, but slow and sure. His chest infection worsened a couple of weeks ago but I started giving him a quarter of a Vitamin C tablet crushed in his food, and that's much better.

His mouth is healed completely, but he's been left with a lump right in the middle of his lower lip, which makes it difficult for him sometimes. The "entree' type mushy cat food gets squished down into the bottom of the bowl so he can't pick it up, and some of the chunky stuff in gravy is too big. Poor little bugger! But I do what I can to help, and he's doing Alright.

And I really think... when it gets to the stage of putting a folded towel down as a blanket, and splashing out $15 on flea drops and a brush, that makes him a bit more than "just a stray" we feed. When we get an apartment eventually, I think it'll be a ground floor one. With a cat-flap fitted.

I  Junior.  He's never going to win any beauty contests and he's likely to remain a scrawny, sickly thing. But that doesn't matter to me. He's just lovely.

I'm moving over some of the blogs and photos mentioning Junior, my beloved and MUCH missed cat from the Tree Farm. He was My Cat for a couple of years and I was totally in love with him. We'd hoped that when we got an apartment we'd be able to bring him with us, but this place we're in now isn't suitable at all so we decided to leave him with his Momma and cousins back at the Tree Farm. Sadly, about the time we were moving here in April this year, he disappeared, and despite Pops and Roger keeping an eye out and going looking for him, he never turned back up. We can only think the worst.

He'd found his way to us in late December 2010, the runt of that Spring's litter and then having tangled badly with a raccoon in the Fall. He was near to death - face all ripped up, a bag of skin and bone, and he'd crawled under the hot water tank fireplace outside our camper to die. His chest was so congested he sounded like he was drowning, and he could barely stand. Shane said we should let nature take its course and let him die, at least in some warmth. So I went along with that and made the decision along with Shane not to feed him or tend to him. This was country life, and it's hard as Hell.

But Shane gave in first, lol, and started feeding Junior juice from a tin of tuna with a dropper. I cleaned his face each day with cotton balls, built him a wood platform at the side of the tank with a towel to sleep on so his face wouldn't be constantly in the dirt adding to his breathing problems, and started giving him Vitamin C in his food. He was still really sickly and we didn't expect him to live. But he did... and I spent the next couple of years with My Cat, who totally stole my heart and became one of the most important things in my life.

You wouldn't believe how much I miss him. I can hardly walk by the cat food in the store without choking up, and I know I'll shed a few tears tonight while I'm moving my memories of him here. I know in my heart that he's dead - either run over or got into another fight with something he shouldn't have on the Tree Farm. But at least his life was happy with us, and he knew he was loved.

Click for weather forecast

My man

~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~peace~*~love~*~joy~*~

Cool dude, that Einstein.

And another cool dude, that Darwin.

And yet another cool dude, that Jimi.

The following is a genuine open letter written by a real Public Defender. I heard it read out on a radio podcast this morning and thought it was more than worth the effort of playing it back, sentence by sentence, so I could scribble it down and type it up to share with you guys. Some adult content, and definitely "no holds barred".

These are GENUINE answers given by contestants on various quiz shows on radio and television in the UK. After my stint on "The Weakest Link", where I got to the final and answered "what boy's name, beginning with 'L', comes before 'Corporal' to give a rank in the British Army?" with "George?", I shouldn't really laugh... but I just can't help myself!

Thanks for the email Andy... this is one of the funniest ones I've read forEVAR!

Hi Guys!

It's week #9 of Rita's Riting Challenge, and I'm pleased as punch to say that Rita is using a photo I sent in to her for this week's edition. Thank you hon!!  It was taken during my first visit to an American Laundromat a couple of weeks ago, and I've had my story waiting ever since! This is it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

(Click here if you fancy a go... )

LaundroMat.


The couple entered the LaundroMat and her eyes opened wide in amazement. WOW! So many machines! At least 20? 25? and whole rows of dryers along two walls. The bright fluorescent light above bounced back off the machines, the glare strong and yellow. What a difference to the local launderette she'd known 'back home', with its half a dozen washers and two dryers, dingy and uninviting. This one even had pinball! And vending machines for drinks and snacks! Wow. Back home you had to nip round the corner to the cafe and hope your stuff was still there when you got back!

He loaded a large, industrial sized machine with their bedding, while she piled the clothing into three smaller washers.

"How much liquid do you want in these?" she asked.

He looked over her shoulder.

"Usually, we put the detergent in first" he said.

Oops! She grinned sheepishly and rummaged through the clothing in each machine, digging a hole to the bottom into which he poured the liquid. He lined up rows of quarters into the slots on each one, and she slammed them home, setting them off and running. Twenty minutes to go! Enough time to go out and pick up groceries. Amazing that you could leave and not worry about the busy machines being left unattended!

A pair of grey flannel jog pants tumbled around forlornly, wondering where its friend, the 'not so white right now' dressing gown was. Oh dear. *Sigh...* she'd forgotten it. She'd be annoyed when she realised. And the pants would miss the shrieks and laughter that emitted from her when pants and gown played together, combining their release of static electricity in a shower of tiny blue sparks which crackled over her dancing legs.

Several odd socks, thoroughly soapy and sudsy, crossed paths occasionally and nodded, each hoping fervently to be reunited with its partner when they got back home. Otherwise it would be "back in the corner with you, damn odd sock!", as she would cheerily throw them back with the other misfits. Oh the ignominy of being an Odd Sock!

A soft, pink, cable-knitted sweater luxuriated in the hot water, pleased to feel the dust and dirt being gently teased out of its fibres. Always 'kept for best' in another life, it was now resigned to being an 'everyday' object in the harsh temperatures of its new home. At least it was secure in the knowledge of still being the favourite sweater.

Two bras met mid-cycle. Straps entangling, metal hooks clawing at each other. One plain, white and practical; the other black and lacy - a bit of frippery. Who would win the battle for supremacy? They were violently flung apart during the fast spin, smashed against their respective sides of the drum. Bosom-less cups heaving, they grudgingly called a truce and decided to coexist, 50/50, as the circumstances called for.

The couple returned to find everything as it should be. Apart from them, and two women folding their laundry across the other side of the room, the LaundroMat was empty. The couple piled their clean, spun things into several dryers and set them going. She had fancied herself as a bit of a 'pinball wizard' way back when, and felt quite excited when money was fed into the machine and she spun off her first ball. It seemed that she had become a little rusty over the years, and he beat her score easily. She didn't mind; she was having fun!

She took out her camera for a couple of snaps of this gargantuan place. He positioned himself protectively between her and the two women, guarding their right to privacy from the prying eyes of the lens.

The radio, quietly on in the background, selected old rock songs and gave them out almost reverently, evoking memories and singing from her. He opened a dryer to see how it was doing, and she danced over to take out the dry clothes.

"Bouncy little git" he said, fondly.

She smiled and looked at him sideways.

"Well I've never been called that before!" she replied, before bouncing back to the table to start folding.

♫"Swee-eet Home Ala-bama, where the skies are so blue..."♫

A pair of his beat up work jeans with ripped knees and tattered pockets breathed a sigh of relief to find itself at the bottom of the pile of folded workwear. Respite for a few days, at least! Its counterparts could bear the brunt of the daily grind instead, while it rested in the dark, quiet silence of the closet.

A pair of her jeans, thickly embroidered down one side with subtly-coloured flowers and butterflies, lay smugly on another pile, knowing that it would never be likely to suffer such hardship! They only came out for trips into town!

The big fleece blanket trapped layers of hot air into itself as the couple folded it together. They would be grateful for its comforting newly-washed softness and warmth that night, it thought, pleased with itself and its role.

She set the clothes and towels and bedding into their respective piles before returning them to the plastic bags they'd been brought along in. The socks and underwear were shoved unceremoniously into a bag together - she would sort them out when they got home. The odd socks waited in anticipation, hope and worry, keeping their toes crossed; their dilemma still to be decided.

Bags were loaded back into the truck and the couple headed home. Their respective books sat together companionably on the seat, untouched and unread. Looks like they ended up only coming along for the ride...