July 29, 2005
I know I’ve talked about how much Chuck and Zoe love Halloween before. And the fact that I hate it. But they (most she) love (s) it, so I endure.
Truth be told, I’m a Slacker mom, but when it comes to certain things I’m actually Got My Shit Totally Together Mom (or GMSTTM).
And one of the things I’m GMSTTM mom about is Zoe’s Halloween costume. I’m thinking that the one of the many underlying reasons why I hate Halloween so much is that I always had kinda crap costumes put together at the last minute, and that was because my mother was never GMSTTM when it came to stuff like Halloween costumes, sewing my name on the back of my gym suit and hemming it, or sewing badges on my brownie uniform.
So there are long, heart-felt, protracted discussions around here about what Zoe is going to be for Halloween. There have been more than several years when she/we couldn’t decide what she wanted to be so we’d get several costumes. These discussions long, heart-felt, protracted discussions often start on November 1 — because it’s never too early to start thinking about what you’re gonna be next year.
I am pleased to say that when Zoe was little all the costumes were worn and loved year-round It would not be unusual for me to go off on my errands with Zoe and have her dressed as a cat, mermaid, mouse, or sugar plum fairy, complete with wand.
So when I checked my e-mail this evening and found a the Lillian Vernon online catalogue hawking Halloween costumes I was more than a bit excited.
But Zoe is at that funny age now. She’s nine and going into the 5th grade. Not a little girl anymore, but not a teenager. So, she’s a tween. As a result, she’s a bit too old (and jaded) to be a mermaid, but … she will be wearing any of the costumes they’re offering for tweeners over my dead body.
July 21, 2005
My husband has a huge crush on the Overstock.com girl .
Despite the fact that we have TiVO and have watched maybe a dozen commercials in the last four years, TV tonight he rewound the TiVO to watch
her the commercial.
July 19, 2005
As a kid growing up in New York, like nearly every other Jewish family, we headed up to the Catskills and spent the summer at a bungalow colony. (The movie A Walk on the Moon with Diane Lane, Viggo Mortensen, and Liev Schreiber is a fairly accurate depiction of the place and time and is a highly nostalgic look at the time, particularly if you lived it.)
Anyway…thoughts of the bungalow always bring back memories of Shell No Pest Strips. There was always one hanging up somewhere in the kitchen of the bungalow — summer after summer. (I’ve come to find out now that these fabulous little bug-nabbers are illegal in the United States so if an arm starts growing out of the top of my head I’ll know who to blame I guess.) I’m guessing that any of you who are around my age will remember them as well.
We have a bit of a problem with flies around here. Every summer they come in droves. It’s positively disgusting. And before I wrote this entry and Googled Shell No Pest Strips, each summer I would wander the aisles of various hardware stores looking for them–to no avail.
I’ve purchased the fly bags, which are positively fabulous for outside, though some of them can get a bit stinky and they are positively revolting if you get the refillable ones because you have to open them up and dump the bug guts and whatnot out and wash it out before you can put fresh bait and water in them. And they do work great, but they’re for outside. This leaves me with a bit of a problem combating the flies that make it inside.
One summer I bought fly paper but that stuff (while perhaps effective) is nasty. It’s virtually impossible to unroll one of the rolls and get it hung without it clinging to your arms and/or getting stuck in your hair. And while there may not be flies on it already, the thought that it attracts flies totally grosses me out.
This summer I found what I thought would be a great compromise: the Victor Poison-Free Indoor Fly Trap. It’s a long square tube covered with sticky stuff and pictures of flies. Real flies see the pictures of the flies and go to visit their friends and get stuck and die. No swatting, no muss, no fuss. It seemed absolutely fabulous, but for some reason mine wasn’t catching any flies — and it’s not like there was a shortage of them flying around my house.
I had it in the laundry room for a couple of weeks, near where we feed the cats. No flies. So a few days ago I moved it into the kitchen. The laundry room flies all seem to have migrated into the kitchen anyway. I stuck it on the ledge of the window in the corner away from food and potential pet interaction. Still no luck catching flies.
Tonight Chuck and Zoe were running around the kitchen on a fly massacre and I was quietly wondering why my fabulous poison-free indoor fly trap was letting these little buggers go free.
Well it seems I failed to remove the protective tape which exposes the sticky fly attractant. Oopsie.
We all bow to the genius that is my husband for discovering this little boo boo. (And not five minutes after removing the protective film, don’t you know it trapped it’s first fly.)
July 17, 2005
At about 1:00 this afternoon we put Gable to sleep.
Goodbye big man. I love you and I’ll miss you.
July 16, 2005
Apparently dropping dead a few months ago wasn’t enough drama for my cat Gable. Of course, that was just one more in a series of life and death experiences for him.
Because between the whole near-death thing and living with five other cats, three dogs, and a nine year old, life is really rather hum drum, as you can imagine.
So he decided to get a really nasty ugly cyst on his eye that required surgery (to the tune of $500, thankyewverymuch).
But apparently that wasn’t enough for him either, because when he came home from his surgery he stopped eating and drinking. And then he vanished. He’s been MIA for the last 48 hours. And he was in such a state when he left that Chuck and I were absolutely certain that he’d gone off to die and we were really looking forward to breaking that news to Zoe when she returned home this afternoon from visiting my mother in Florida.
On the way to the airport, between wracking sobs over another cat going away to die and facing the prospect of never finding him again, we agreed that we would wait until we got home from the airport before breaking the news to Zoe. The plan was to tell her that he’d been missing for a few days and would she help us look for him. The entire drive home and throughout lunch it was just under the surface. Every time Zoe said something about being excited to go home and see the animals Chuck and I would look at each other. I was almost dreading getting home.
The minute we pull in the driveway, Zoe bolts out of the car because the kittens are out and about. As she’s off to greet Sparkle she asks why Gable isn’t wearing his collar.
He was in the bushes in front of the house just laying there. Very dirty and very still. But alive and purring.
We tried to coax him out with his favorite treat–Star Kist solid white albacore tuna in water. But he wouldn’t eat. He hadn’t eaten in days. I reached under the bushes to pet him. I could feel every bone down his back.
Chuck finally got him out and brought him in the house. We tried to get him to drink something but had no luck. After much back and forth we took him to the vet. I was hoping that they’d say he’s just a bit dehydrated and would pump him with IV fluids overnight and pronounce him on the road to recovery (again), but what I really feared was that it was too late and we would have to put him down.
Well our favorite vet was on call–the vet that brought him back to life a few months ago, and the vet that helped Chuck make the decision to do the surgery last week. She examined him and we decided to do some blood work on him to see what was going on before making any decisions. They took him into the back to draw the blood. When our favorite vet tech Laura brought him back she brought from drawing blood she brought a can of cat food with her.
Let’s pause for a moment here to remember that he hasn’t eaten in days and no matter what we tried, we couldn’t get him to take a bite of anything.
Laura pops the top on the can of food and what does he do? Yeah, he starts eating. Little nibbles, but eating. Stupid cat.
Well the blood work reveals that he’s a bit anemic and as we know he’s very dehydrated so he needs a blood transfusion ($359, arg) before they can hydrate him without causing other complications, but his prognosis is excellent.
So Gabe is spending the night at the vet but he can come home tomorrow. I’m hopeful but realistic. I figure we only have a few more months to maybe a year with him, but if he’s eating and happy and comfotable I can live with that.
July 8, 2005
So yeah, we got a new digital camera.
The thing about digital cameras–like Polaroid’s–is that you can feel free to….ummm…experiment….with the kinds of photos you don’t necessarily want to take over to your local one hour photo place.
Same thing with camera phones. Except with those you can instantly e-mail the photo to the person of your choice, often before common sense kicks in.
My husband is no exception to this rule apparently.
When I came home from work I picked up our new toy and started perusing the pix. The very first one I came upon was … OK, I just spent about 15 minutes trying to think of some delicate way to put this and as I’m not exactly a delicate flower I’ll just come out and say it… a picture of my husband’s (huge) penis. I chuckled (no pun intended) and moved on to numerous adorable pictures of my little dog.
I quickly bored of the camera and moved on to other things.
Then Chuck brought the camera in and wanted to show me the many fabulous features it has so I clicked it back on and you can just guess which was the first picture to show up. Yup, the dick picture again.
Then I flipped through the pictures. And no matter which way I seemed to flick, the next picture I’d always get to was the dick pic again. Sheesh, his penis was stalking me.
So I leave to go get my hair colored and come home to once again play with the camera. I snap a few photos and try to scroll through them, this time using the enlarging and zooming in feature. Which picture that kept coming up on the screen? Yes, it was the stalking penis.
It got to the point of absurdity.
So then I gave Chuck the camera to take a picture of me and Sammy:
He then took the camera into his office to download the photos so I could post this cute picture. Guess which was the first one that came up on his screen?
July 1, 2005
I recently purchased the Feature Comforts 40″ Oscillating Tower Fan. At the risk of being total dork-girl, this is the most fabulous fan ever invented! (OK, it looks exactly like this one but it’s a different brand and it’s not an ionizer.)
If you look at the picture you can see it’s got a sleek tower type design, so it’s fashion-forward, and we all know how important that is.
But here are the fabulous things about this fan:
1. It has a remote control. I believe any appliance is drastically improved when it comes with a remote control. Chuck will think this is fabulous too, since on nights too numerous to count, I have asked him to get out of bed to turn our bedroom fan on.
2. It’s quiet. Nothing but a pleasant hummmmmm, compared to the wind tunnel noise my current bedroom fan has.
3. Did I mention it has a remote control?
4. It’s got lots of speeds and things that you can work, all from the fablous remote control.
5. It doesn’t take up a lot of floor space.
I got this thing of beauty to put in my home office, because though the house has central air, it still gets stuffy in here. And besides, it is more energy efficient to run the a/c at a higher temp and augmet it with fans. And I’m all about energy efficiency.
I’ve had the fan for a couple of months now, but it hasn’t really been hot. Until today. I whipped the fan out of the box and commenced assembling it. It was then that I realized it has a REMOTE CONTROL. OK, it says there’s a remote on the box now that I’m examining it, but I don’t think I realized it when I bought it. Because had I known a remote control was involved I’d have bought three of these puppies. Because you know, we really need more remote controls.
Anyway, about the fan: major angel music happening here. Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
If you’re in the market for a faboo fan, take your tush over to Lowes immediately and get three of them. You won’t be sorry.