Short and Random

Short and random post tonight because we got home super late tonight. More on that later.

1. There are a ton of giveaways going on right now all over these parts. Giveaways are one of the few ways that I have to give back to you for supporting this little site over all of these years, so I hope you'll enter one or two or all of them.

Win 4 tickets to the I-X Indoor Amusement Park (enter NOW because this one closes very soon)

Win a copy of Spot It

There's a $50 Visa Gift Card here

There's a $100 Walmart Gift Card here

Enter to win a free photo shoot here

2. You'll be pleased to know that Ali consumed PLENTY of protein today because she ate a fly the size of my thumbnail. It somehow infiltrated the house, causing mass pandemonium because Max and Ali both enjoy torturing things with more legs than them. In the end, Max was the one who murdered the fly, but he was smart enough to walk away from the carcass and go eat some cat food. Ali swooped in and chewed that nasty thing up.

You're welcome for the imagery.

3. Alexis has approximately a kajillion days off from school coming up. The whole thing is making me wonder what gainfully employed people are supposed to do to cover all of those random days off. I'd be pulling my hair out trying to balance everything if I hadn't been laid off.

LOOK AT ME! I'M FINDING SILVER LININGS! WEEEEEEE!

4. I started with contest stuff, so why not end with contest stuff? Caption the photo below. I'll pick a favorite and the winner will get a $25 Amazon gift card. There's no sponsor on this one. I just happen to have a $25 Amazon gift card I'd like to give to one of you.

Caption away...

Give An Inch, She Swoops In And Steals It

I will be the first to admit that I am in control of All Of The Outdoor Things. The husband is allowed to mow the grass BUT THAT IS IT BACK AWAY FROM THE TREES AND SHRUBS AND PERENNIALS AND DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY POND.

Aren't you glad you aren't married to me?

The truth of the matter is that I can't even let Alexis pick out flower seeds without twitching. Every year I let her stand in a store and pick out a packet or two, but I do everything in my power to mentally steer her towards the correct answer. So far she has managed to pick things I could work with, but I'm not sure what I'll do if she ever picks out marigolds. DIE, MAYBE.

(I realize the Marigold People are all up in arms right now. SIMMER DOWN. I'm almost willing to let the white ones be in a neighbor's yard, but I just can't do the yellow or orange ones anywhere near me. I'll reconsider when I'm old and wrinkly because THAT'S WHO LIKES MARIGOLDS. GRANDMAS.)

Anyway, I might have had a seizure or two when the husband requested some outdoor space of his own. We've had a fire bowl for a few years now which we use ALL. THE. TIME. He wanted an established space around it. He and his friends tend to hang out around the fire bowl constantly once the weather cooperates. Apparently the broken pieces of concrete we had haphazardly thrown around the fire bowl creating a mini patio weren't cutting it for them.

Then he went and had the nerve to say he wanted the same kind of rock for his mini patio that we had used for the pond. As if he's allowed to have an opinion!

He got his way, but only because that was what would look best. He ran up to a landscaping place last week and picked up a pallet of rocks that weighed more than two elephants on their fat and bloaty days. I promptly stole some of the rocks to do some rearranging on the pond and then set up his patio.

With him watching.

And trying to help.

But not being allowed to.

I have no idea why he puts up with me and my control issues. Possibly because he has his own set and they are just as weird.

A few hours (OK, so maybe it was DAYS. That's what happens when you refuse to let anyone help.) later, a new patio had appeared up behind the pond.

Look! Look! I let the husband do something! I am so generous that I let him carry that concrete bench up there. It's there mostly because adult beverages seem to migrate to the space around the fire. While that alone seems like a bad idea in my head, adult beverages between a fire and a pond seems even worse. I figure with that bench there I shouldn't have to deal with any people swimming with the fishies and frogs. In theory.

We're a long way from done with that space. There are trees missing, some shrubs, mulch, a fence (that'll happen right around the time it starts to rain money), and of course there are a million perennials all through that space that haven't figured out that it's June (in my head). (You really can't convince my brain that it's March. Impossible.)

But you can tell that it's going to be pretty amazing. Eventually.

I'm so generous to let the husband have his own outdoor space, aren't I? SO GENEROUS.

It's too bad that Alexis has claimed it as her own.

No. Really. She has been hanging out on that bench nearly constantly for a week now.

I guess the husband will have to go find his own patio somewhere else.

I Think She's What Darwin Was Talking About

I've mentioned before that Ali isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but apparently I need to be reminded of that fact from time-to-time. She recently opted to prove the point by demonstrating she's so dumb that she will starve herself to death.

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Whenever we get a new pet, there are certain rules that must be followed. The baby eats alone, for one. It's not that we're trying to run The Isolation Diner for Newbies, it's that there's a certain 15-year old white cat who will eat All Of The Things if given the chance. He's a lard ass when he only has access to his diet cat food for old cats who don't move unless they are kicked, so letting him get his paws on kitten food is like handing him a case of Ho-Hos and saying, "Enjoy!"

He would eat every last crumb in that case of Ho-Hos, by the way. Every. Last. Crumb.

When Ali was a kitten, she was given special treatment and encouraged to eat when she was in our bedroom. Her food was kept way up high where Powder the Lard Ass couldn't jump to reach it, but all she had to do was bat her eyes and we would put the food down for her.

She was happy right up until she got too old for kitten food.

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Here's the part where we fast forward to Penny splashing into our lives. She's a frequent customer at The Isolation Diner, except that we have been keeping her food bowl in the kitchen. I'm not sure why we moved things around. We just did.

Ali has been jumping up on the kitchen counters and stealing Penny's food when it's put up for the night. Somewhere around the third time she got busted for it, we started applying a bit of common sense and making it impossible for her to chow down on the puppy food.

She thanked us by standing in the kitchen and meowing loudly for hours on end.

Every day.

For hours on end.

MEEEEOW. MEEEEEOW. MEEEEEOW. MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOW, BITCHES. WHY AREN'T YOU FEEDING ME?

There is a very large bowl of cat food in our basement. It's one of those endless supplies sort of bowls and is hidden in the storage room. It's protected from the dogs by way of a baby gate (everybody is a food thief in this house, so protection and separation is required). It's a low baby gate. Powder the Lard Ass can jump over the gate (and obviously does...frequently), so there's no good reason for a healthy 2-year old cat to have trouble with this concept.

Except that she's dumb. Apparently.

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About a week ago, Ali started howling at me to feed her. Homey don't play that, though. I'm not her bitch and she can walk her little butt down the stairs and get her own damn food, thank you very much. After she spent 20 minutes taking a sledgehammer to my last nerve, I picked her up and escorted her down to the cat food bowl.

When I set her in front of that bowl, I swear she looked at me like I was a god. MEEEEOW! LOOK AT ALL THAT FOOD! HUMANS ARE AMAZING!

I seriously don't think she knew that food bowl was in there. She has lived in this house TWO YEARS and never noticed it.

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I have a terrible memory. I admit it. I can't remember anything anymore because my brain has been beaten to a pulp by a certain kindergartener who asks too many questions and sings too many annoying songs. However, I do believe if that someone showed me a wondrous place with magical quantities of yummy food, I would remember it.

Ali doesn't.

Every day there is squalling and meowing and general bossiness in the kitchen. Every day I escort her to the food bowl in the basement. Every day Ali acts like I am her god. She is completely shocked to find that there is food in front of her face and overjoyed that she gets to eat as much of it as she wants.

I'm relatively certain the cat is so small because she has been surviving on dead stink bugs, stray bits of dog food she scrounges up, and the occasional people food she finds on the floor. Since there is no cure for stupid, I'm guessing I will be showing her that food bowl every day for the rest of her life.