5/18/16

Spring has Sprung, and It Brought Friends!



So, I haven't updated the blog in a couple of months due to technical difficulties, travel, and not a lot to talk about.  However,  I have a new Chromebook, we are home, and I have dumb thoughts to share! (And there was much rejoicing...)

The backyard population has had a spring surge. I have gone from a squirrel to 3, a couple of chipmunks to several, and my cardinal has a harem.
I also now have a couple of cute rabbits, a couple of towhees, house finches, all added to the chickadees and titmice that have been with me since I put out the feeders.  It can get pretty busy out there, and Jem and I take up residence most evenings in front of the large window overlooking the backyard. So much to see! The one bummer is that when it gets too dark for me to see, Jem is still acting like the greatest thing ever is happening right outside the window. Drives me crazy. Of course, my neighbors are convinced I have either serious mental problems or a healthy drug habit because I frequently stick my face against the glass trying to peer into the darkness to see whatever night creatures are lurking in the yard. Hmm. maybe if I turned the lights off INSIDE, the outside would be easier to see...Sheesh. (Holy cow, dummy! I totally forgot that I have night vision binoculars! Sometimes my dumb surprises even me.)

There are also other birds that I don't recognize. I need a good bird book for our portion of the state, or a good app on my phone that lets me snap a photo and tells me what bird it is, what they eat, where they nest, etc. I think I read somewhere that there is some app that lets you take photos of shoes and then tells you where you can buy them. Wizardry, I tell you, but if that works, why can't they do it for wildlife? Maybe they just really want the technology to identify mystery shoes, but haven't pulled it off, yet. Or, maybe I just made that up as wishful thinking but made it about shoes because I don't think I deserve to have something so magical benefit me...other than the elves that live in my phone and run text messages back and forth. Ahem..anyway, I need a quick and fool-proof way for identifying birds, because it seems like every week a new bird pops by. Unfortunately, the new birds either move too quickly that I can't get a good look, or they fly away long before I can navigate through my copy of Sibley's. I guess there are very cool people that can identify birds by their song, but since I still can't identify musical artists by their songs, even ones I really, really like, I don't know that there is much hope for me. .....

An episode of Dr. Who came on and one of the characters said he really loved ELO, but the song that was playing was one I always thought was by the Beatles. I am a failure. Just don't tell Mr. Music Snob that I still get confused by the whole ZZTop / Lynyrd Skynyrd thing. I mean, I know they aren't the same, and I am pretty sure ZZTop guys have beards because one of them was Angela's dad on Bones, but I seriously can't remember which songs go with which band, even though I am almost positive I like both. I haven't watched television in years so he may not be her Dad anymore. Billy Idol might be her Dad, or someone from Lynard Skynard paid Mr. ZZ top to pretend to be her Dad, in which case she might need therapy with Sweets. I probably screwed all that up and now feel the need to binge watch Bones on Netflix.

And none of that has anything to do with my yard or birds or cats or anything terribly relevant, but then again...I do what I want.

3/4/16

Miss Bella

Miss Bella owns our neighborhood. I mean, we bought our house, but the actual neighborhood belongs to Bella. She is quite pretty, super sweet, and most people can't help but love her. However, she is a bit odd. She's that neighbor that just assumes you are available, regardless of the hour. It never occurs to her that you might be in the middle of an important phone call, eating dinner, or even bleeding because the kitchen attacked you. You will still drop what you are doing, staunch your wound, and attend her because you are living on her land and she feels entitled to your adulation. There are days when you might have the weird feeling that someone is watching you, and sure enough, Bella is in the middle of the backyard, glaring at the house. There have been times when I have felt the tingle on the back of my neck, only to turn around and find Bella on the front porch, her face literally half an inch from the window, just staring at me. If she was prone to wearing weird Halloween masks, I would have died of fright at least 3 times.  I have heard stories about how Bella will just walk into your home and curl up on the sofa, or better yet, stretch out on your bed, and make herself at home. She hasn't done that to us, yet, but I have sort of seen it once. My friend and I were on her porch, talking about something random when sweet Bella strolled right by and into the open front door. We just stood there in shock as she got about 8 feet down the hall. Unfortunately for Bella, there are two very large dogs that live there, and they came thundering around the corner, convinced they were being invaded by enemy hoards who must die. (There is a gate that prevents them from actually going down that hallway, so she was in no real danger, but I admit they are still intimidating.) Bella flew out of the house, down the stairs, and into the hedge, shooting us a nasty look as she went by. See, Bella is a cat...

...and Jem HATES her. My boy is the sweetest thing ever, but he hates her with a passion. If you have read previous posts, you might remember the cat who lured my sweet boy out into the backyard..that was Bella. And she knows he hates her. She not only knows it, she relishes it. She loves nothing more than to get us outside, doing her bidding, while he watches from the window. She rolls around in the grass, loves up on us and tells us stories, and basically acts like a total show off. The entire time, he is clawing frantically at the glass, howling, at least as much as his little boy voice allows. It is as if he is trapped in a burning building. She will glance up at him and purr/growl in her weird little way.

Scout is not a fan, either. She typically pulls a "Bella" and finds a window where she can just sit quietly...staring...and passing judgment on us for fraternizing with the enemy. If  Jem happens to go crashing into the room where Scout sits, he will flip out at her, and I will have to vacuum up enough loose fur to make another cat. She is nowhere near as crazed as her brother, but still not a fan. I think eventually Bella and Scout might be able to live in the same house, as long as each of them had their own floor, with maybe a floor between them. I am fairly certain Jem would pull the house down.

Several months ago, Jem caught sight of Bella while he was sitting in the sunroom (we had already reinforced it after his original Bella sighting and subsequent chase). As usual, he lost his mind. My teenager tried to convince him to go inside and calm down. She will likely wear the scars on her arm forever. I am not kidding. She came walking up to me with blood dripping down her arm,  babbling something about cats. Being 'Mother of the Year' that I am, I ignored her and immediately turned my attention to the cats. Poor kid. We would eventually laugh about it, but I think she gladly would have kicked me if she hadn't been trying so hard not to become completely hysterical. Two weeks later, my sweet gifted child once again tried to remove an angry Jem from his perch while he was attempting to rain death down upon Bella, only this time he got her neck. Those scars have mostly faded. This is what happens when children grow up in a household with an unhinged mother who thinks every action by a cat requires discussion, applause, or panic. I am an idiot, and my children believe they are second class citizens behind the cats.

This afternoon, my younger child gave up on her dream of getting a dog and decided she wanted her own cat. This despite the fact that traitor Jem often curls up with her on the bed and acts like he is HER cat. She kept making cat puns and giving me sad eyes and the whole shebang. I am a sucker for cats, and she knows it. So, I proposed this: she can get a kitten when she convinces Jem to be friends with Bella. Since she hasn't personally experienced the terror that is a Bella / Jem encounter just yet, she gladly accepted the deal and started thinking of names. Meanwhile, the older child was standing behind her laughing her head off, mostly because she knows it will never happen.

You can't tame the beasts...they do what they want.




2/16/16

The Show

When we started looking for a house to purchase, we had a short list of  'must haves'.  Our priorities were:

1) At least this many bedrooms
2) Sunroom for the cats
3) Trees

Maybe not the traditional priority list, with no mention of square footage or neighborhood or even a firm budget, but we aren't real traditional people. Our agent was wonderful, understood us completely, and found just what we wanted. Plus, it had all that other stuff people like, like bathrooms and basements and nearby fire stations and a price we were willing to pay.

The sunroom is on the second level so you can pretend it is a tree house. Or maybe that is just me..and the cats. Just outside the sunroom is a tree, which you kinda need for it to feel like a tree house. I've hung a tube style bird feeder in the tree, which attracts birds like Carolina chickadees, the occasional titmouse, and a cardinal who drops by in the mornings and evenings.  But the most common visitors are squirrels. The squirrels stand on the branch slightly below the feeder, and sort of reach up to get the seeds. (Something like the photo below that I found posted online.) Scares the tar out of me most times. I am sure they are going to plummet to the ground. Yeah, I know, squirrel: the most sure-footed of the backyard beasts. I have issues.

The feeder is known as "The Show".  You know, for the cats. If you sit down next to Scout while she is watching her show, she will tell you all about it. The occasional "really" is all it takes to keep her talking. Jem sits quietly, like a sniper on recon, waiting for the day he can take a shot at a visiting robin. We are hoping that day never comes because I think that deep down inside my sweet little boy lies a bloodthirsty killer waiting to be let loose on unsuspecting wildlife. There was one time right after we moved in that almost tested my theory. A neighbor's intrepid cat got too close to the feeder and Jem's tree stand (aka a table near the sunroom door), prompting sweet Jem to bust through the door, down the stairs, and out into the yard. It took 8 grown men and a velociraptor tranquilizer to bring him down. OK, he got out from under the roof's overhang, out to the back of the property, realized she was gone and he was now in a torrential rainstorm, so he stopped long enough for me to throw a towel on him and scoop him up. (Advice: thick towels are better than bare hands when attempting to hold an angry cat. Of course, just avoiding angry cats is always best.) It was life or death for a minute, though. Jem is a big boy with big claws and no idea what "pulling a punch" means. Thankfully, the rain had encouraged most of the birds and things to be tucked away out of sight.

There is one brave chap who loves to get up in Scout's face and shake his squirrel booty. She gets so mad, but I guess he knows he is safe. Have you ever heard a squirrel laugh? I have. One evening I even thought I heard a "nanny nanny boo boo" coming from the tree, but that may have been the glass of wine I was trying. (Wine is my grown-up test. When I can stand a glass of wine, I will finally be an adult. Wine still makes me gag, so Call of Duty stays.)

As I was working on ideas for the backyard, the thought of moving the feeder out into the yard did flit through my mind. It would eliminate some of the mess from falling sunflower seed shells. (Husks? Shells? Whatever. Leftover bits they don't eat.) Yeah, I could just get the pre-shelled seeds, but those are much more expensive, and my seed bill is already high. Don't want Mr. Financial Man to fuss. Maybe I should just invest in one of those things that hang below the feeder and collects the shells. An initial, one-time investment is better than recurring costs, right? Mr. Financial Man would be proud! But moving the feeder might just prevent the squirrel's homicidal tendencies from surfacing if he isn't quite as close to the house and our tasty electrical lines. Decisions, decisions.



Update: Scout has now weighed in. The show must go on, so the feeder stays. Mr. Financial Man is also Mr. Matchy Matchy Man, who will probably want all the feeders in one location, and all matching colors, so I may have some convincing to do there. Wait, Mr. Matchy Matchy Man is also Scout's Personal Person, and we all know Scout gets what she wants. Problem solved.

The Backyard: My Big Dilemma.


As the weather warms slightly and thoughts turn to yard and garden, I am faced with a dilemma... what type of easy yard or garden do I want? Don't laugh. My world is small, so the same goes for my 'problems'. I am a lucky girl. 

This is our first spring in the house, and the yard is almost a blank canvas. There are trees and such, but no really defined spaces. I want to do a seating area, and maybe a pergola, but also a bird area. Since it is still too early to start the actual work, what with the icy rain (but not snow) outside my window, I feel fairly confident in my landscaping skills. Come April, I will probably give up and call someone to lay pine straw and forget it. In the meantime, I will plan.

So, let's go through several garden styles and see what might work...
Maybe a lovely Japanese garden with a shallow pool and some rocks and bonsai, and those little ball-shaped bushes. That would be pretty. They don't grow in that shape? I have to trim them? Have you seen my skills with a trimmer? Nope.What about a Chinese sort of bamboo thing? Bamboo is invasive? How invasive? Oh. That's bad. Next! What about the one I call an English cottage garden? Too fussy and I am not a huge fan of roses. French formal? Too...formal. Rock garden? Um, no. What about a hedge maze? That would be super cool. Oh, that requires planting hedges in a certain pattern, and letting them grow for years and years? But I am more 'instant gratification', and less 'patience is a virtue'. Oh, and plans sort of make me itch. No hedge maze. Water garden? Mosquitoes and drowned chipmunks are not my favorite.

I guess I will have to create my own style. Rats. That doesn't sound easy at all. 


Let's start with a bird area. I love having bird feeders in the yard. Not ALL of the feeders, just a few. There are loved ones who have ALL of the feeders in their yards, and it takes them hours to clean, fill, and protect the feeders from invading hoards of squirrels and raccoons. (Spell check says the plural of raccoon is raccoon. I like to put an 's' on things. Sort of adds character.) I love spending time in their yards, taking advantage of their hard work, but I am not ready for that type of commitment. My mother-in-law's 'Season of the Grackle' was enough to show me I didn't have what it takes to go full-on Audubon. (That was the sequel to father-in-laws "Battle of the Air Potatoes". Not directly bird related, but yard beautification related, which leads to bird happiness. Blood was spilled in that one.) Up to this point, my way of attracting birds has been pretty basic. Put out some black oil sunflower seed and some fresh water, and something will come. Might take a couple of days, but it has always worked for me. To really provide for them, you need to get some bushy stuff they can use as cover. I do want some cover for them so I will have to get...a shrubbery! Or two. I have a couple of baths and a pedestal feeder that match, and I would love to plant some flowers that would draw in hummingbirds and butterflies. 

Birders generally seem to dislike squirrels. Evidently, they will run off the "desirable" birds and make a mess. I have heard tales of how squirrels will sneak into our attic, chew on the electrical lines, and kill us in our sleep, but I suspect this is propaganda put out by the "desirable" birds. What the heck does that mean? I am excited when I get any bird.
Just because I haven't seen a Xantus's hummingbird out back doesn't mean I am a complete failure.  (They are strictly found in Baja and I am not, but the reference comes from The Big Year... really fun movie.Don't let the title fool you, it is more than a quest for birds. Do you think the combination of Jack Black, Steve Martin, and Owen Wilson would lend itself to a serious documentary/drama?) Anyway, I happen to like squirrels and chipmunks, so I am not interested in discouraging them. Maybe I should get one of those little corn holders? I do have the tube feeder in the tree, but that story is for another time.

This morning I discovered the fountain we purchased two houses ago. It must have gotten moved out of one of the Pods and just put in this little corner beside the house. I could put it out in the yard and probably run electricity out to it. (By "I" I actually mean "someone not me".) That would provide the water sound and movement birds like. And it is not deep enough for chipmunk death. Added bonus: I wouldn't have to dig a huge hole to put in the pond I wanted. Yippee! So, we have bird baths, a pedestal feeder, a fountain, and some really awesome tools for planting flowers. But what else do I want?

A seating area sounds nice. A place to sit and read a book, listen to the birds, and just enjoy the day. Should I get a fire pit? Would we ever use a fire pit? Probably not, although they look cool. Definitely, want a little table. A hammock? Maybe that should go in the kids' section....

The kids have a spot picked out off to the side where the climbing dome can live, along with the sandbox they are too old for but insist they will use, and any other kid stuff that comes along. You know
what would be awesome? One of those big outdoor chess boards! It could sort of be the transition from kid to actual garden. Maybe use the flat area to the back of the property as a croquet field? Oh, and the kids want a small veggie garden in their section. They know the critters will harvest anything that grows, and it will ultimately become a weed garden, but I will consider it.

So, I think I have narrowed down what elements I might want, and at least eliminated garden types I don't. Now to go to the financial guy and see what my budget looks like, Oh, budget...something else that makes me itch. Unfortunately, when it comes to large expenditures, I don't get to just do what I want...



2/8/16

I Don't Think It Means What You Think It Means: Kitchen Edition

Before we begin, I feel there are a few things that should be known:

I hate cooking. I only do it as a last resort (Mr. Chef is otherwise engaged and we are desperate). My goal in the kitchen is to fill bellies with something that has a hint of nutritional value and not kill anyone...with the least amount of effort possible. 

Recipes make no sense to me. I can follow one to the letter, and it still comes out looking like something that requires crime scene tape. 

Thank you, but no, I don't want to learn to cook. There will not be a moment when it all clicks and I suddenly find a passion for all things kitchen, and even if I did, I am far too stubborn to admit it. 

Oh, and baking is right out.

On with the lesson!

OVEN: By oven, I assume you mean the Hotbox. It is the ugly thing against the wall that, at least in my experience, turns things black and activates the smoke alarms. 

QUICK: Microwaves are quick. Anything in or on the Hotbox is not quick. Period. It will also activate the smoke alarms which takes more time to air out the house. 

SIMPLE DISH: Does it have more than 3 ingredients? Not so simple, then. 

EASY RECIPE: If contains leeks, shallots, mushrooms, or onions, it does not qualify as "easy". Oh, and flour. Flour is a red flag. Flour never, ever means easy. Ever.* 

GUACAMOLE: Tastiest green goop ever, but not made from avocados. I hate avocados, but love guac, therefore it can not possibly be made of avocado. 

*OK, there is some debate about roux. Roux is like a base, and bases are for freeze tag and baseball, not for kitchening, and not a stand alone dish. It could be the start of a recipe, but not a stand alone dish. I stand firm: flour is never easy. 

To be continued.









2/1/16

"I Do What I Want": An Explanation



So, we have a couple of cats. A brother and sister named Jem and Scout. Both kids are really sweet. Yes, we are those people who think our cats are our kids, so don't go there.  My husband and I are in the process of raising two bipedal kids, who we hope will be good humans with respect for others and manners and all that hoo-haw, and who will hopefully make positive contributions to society and not hurt people. I hear we aren't doing too badly, except maybe the bits when they are left alone with me and we eat ice cream and watch inappropriate movies.*  Anyway, they are good kids who know how to behave themselves and don't talk back or act like brats. Ever. The cats, not so much...

The boy, Jem, is practically perfect in every way, and he is sort of my baby. He has the best purr box and a little kitty boy meow that makes you melt. People typically think he is the girl because he is just so pretty...er, handsome. No, dang it, he is pretty. He is not, however, a small kitty, clocking in around 20 lbs. Yes, there is a little extra weight, but he is also just a big cat.  

The girl, Scout, is smaller, coming in around 12 lbs of solid sass. She is beautiful in her own way, but not quite as striking as her brother. She has a big, bossy meow, which is appropriate since she is The Boss. (At least until Brother sits on her to clean her, then she is Mad Kitty who is stuck.)  

While my Boy is relatively well behaved, he does get away with things occasionally, like sleeping in the wooden salad bowl. We don't really use it for salad because it is beautiful and also because the cat has now slept in it. It mostly holds fruit, which he either kicks out or sleeps on. Oh, and he doesn't actually fit IN the bowl. Here is an older photo from when he was smaller and still sort of fit in the bowl.


The Girl, on the other hand, is a Daddy's Girl like you can't imagine. She gets away with almost everything, only being told 'no' if she gets on the kitchen counter or if she scratches the new chairs in the sitting room. Otherwise, the world is her oyster. Very early on, like before her eyes were even open, like the day she was born, there was something about her that I knew was trouble. Not evil, just pure scamp. She gets away with things my children would never even dream of doing, and my husband is totally OK with it. His theory is that the cats are not being groomed (get it?) to go out into society and be functioning adults. They do not need to follow any rules of etiquette or exhibit any acceptable social behaviors, as they will never be social. (They shan't go out amongst the great unwashed!) There is no need to teach them manners or rules or boundaries, except the whole kitchen counter bit. 


When I ask, which I do frequently, "Scout, what are you doing?" My husband replies "Mama, I do what I want." And so she does. That is who she is. . and when I decided to start writing this thing instead of ranting to my family and friends, I realized something that shocked me more than it should have...

I am Scout!  I have a bit of a mean streak. I only like people I know, and even then it depends on my mood. I don't really care what other people think. If I don't know you I can ignore you, and sometimes even if I do know you. I pretty much do whatever strikes my fancy, and I have been known to say something sassy to my husband. I don't usually make my own food, if I mention wanting something my husband usually makes it happen, and I am obviously completely spoiled. Oh, and the best pillow on the bed is mine. OK, I am not as pretty as Scout, nor could I balance on the banister, but I don't really wanna, so that is fine. 

 See, I do what I want...


*Inappropriate Movies are like Christmas Icetastrophe, not Chainsaw Vixens VII. I love all sorts of really bad "-tastrophe" movies. Movie Snob Man (AKA Husband) voices objection to any "-tastrophe" movies but is mildly curious about this Vixen thing I just made up.