Category Archives: People I love

The Man Who Talks to Cheese.

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Hubby has been cooking this evening. He’s now making dinner, but earlier it was a low-carb pumpkin bake thingie.

After his earlier effort, he is now well into his habit of talking to things that aren’t able to answer.

Shall I type up some of the nonsense he is saying? Yes, yes I will:

O M G, W T F, B B Q! (Yes he said each letter)

Well, I’m talking to chicken now, brilliant! (This is because I was teasing him about being the Man Who Talks to Cheese)

Nothing for cats! (He’s cutting up raw chicken; we give the good bits to the cats and whatever is left to the dog)

Spotty, watch your little paw, fucking hell cat! Spotty! Fucking hell dog-cat-whatever-your-name-is.

Not much for kitties but I’m working on it.

Shhh, I’m coming (whispered to Lokii who also never shuts up) shhh, bits for kitties… Shhh

Oh it’s gonna be less than…oh (garbled) seven minutes…it’s okay. Shhh, coming. (I think this means he heard me light a smoke, which takes me 7 minutes to finish. It was oddly silent so he could hear the lighter spark)

Just wait, alright? Coming. (To Lokii, again) shhh.

Spotty watch your little paw, I’m cutting stuff. Heeeeeeeeee. (Very unmanly giggle)

Fuk fuckit.

That’s my fucking hand, you idiot! Sure didn’t the baby Jesus tell you not to bite the hand that feeds you? Sure no he didn’t.

More for cats, nearly gone…

Alright Spotty that’s it, I’m not going through all this goop. A little more. Oh, Spotty! You want more? That’s it, that’s it. (Calling for the dog) Neko! Oh Spotty you want more? There is no more! Here take that, for fuck’s sake cat! Here.

I’m not spending the evening cutting up human food for cats! Okay Mrs (me), any time you are ready! (Because I’m in charge of the sauce part)

Hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into what it is like to live with a man who talks CONSTANTLY.

Love you anyway, iDJ!

I Am Gunna Do Something Crazy-Fun…

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I have just committed to WALKING ON FIRE next Thursday.

Yep.

I think the first time I saw someone walk barefoot on hot coals was on one of those early-eighties TV shows, That’s Incredible! or maybe Real People. It was probably some “Indian Swami” who laid on a bed of nails for his next trick. I always wanted to know how walking on fire was done – and in less than a week, I’m going to find out!

I am inordinately excited about doing this. Been 43 years on this rock without someone saying, ‘Hey, want to firewalk with me?’ You bet your bippy I jumped at the chance.

My awesome Canadian friend is the one who asked, and so far I am the only taker. Would you walk on fire, if given the chance?

Roses for Mama

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I bought myself a new rosebush recently – a peace rose. We had one in Florida, at the house where I did most of my growing up. Mom loved it. She wasn’t much of a gardener: the rose didn’t get a lot of attention and bloomed rarely. But when it did, she was ecstatic. I remember. I will never forget.

The 17th anniversary of my mother’s death is September 1. That year, 1997, it was also the Labor Day holiday – which meant exactly nothing to me at the time but makes it worse for me when they coincide again.

This post is for you, mom. I know you’d be thrilled with all of my beautiful flowers. But these roses are just for you, and I will think of you and smile with every new bloom.

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The Only Superhero for Me! Cartoon Craziness Challenge

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When I heard this week’s Cartoon Craziness Challenge was ‘superhero’, I didn’t have one minute of hesitation. I actually know a superhero!

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My daddy!

Today is his 75th birthday, and he seems the same to me as he he was in his 50’s. Still has all his hair, and his all original parts, and best of all he still has his silly sense of humour. This cartoon is drawn from my favourite photo of him, taken by my hubby when Dad was over to visit us. I forget why he turned his cap backward and struck a gangsta pose – maybe some rap/hip-hop music was playing in the pub we were in? Still, you haveta love someone who is willing to be goofy a) in public b) in their 70’s c) in a foreign country surrounded by strangers.

Of course he’s super for a lot more reasons – but if I get all gooshy here, he will tease me unmercifully!

Love you dad and thank you for everything you have done for your family over the years. Wish I could give you a big hug today!

Spot is Doing Great!

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My best boy and Super-Bengal Spot was diagnosed with kidney failure last year.
I freaked out entirely. As usual for me, I wrote about it (here), talked about it (with iDJ and Socks and probably anyone else that didn’t roll their eyes when I said “I’m upset because my cat has been diagnosed with a fatal disease.”), and I worried about it a lot. So much so that I lost my marbles and the day after the vet visit, I backed the Mini into the wall outside our house, hard.

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I was so mortified by this extreme idiocy at the time that I couldn’t write about it. I have never, ever done something so stupid in, or to, a car.

The car is fixed now, of course, but it set us back financially quite a bit. Which meant our return visit to the vet – meant to be done before Christmas – didn’t happen until today.

I dithered over taking him in. The last time he bit the crap out of the vet, and was so stressed on the drive it hardly seemed worth doing it again. Then I thought hard and realised that if I kept falling short on taking care of my best boy, and he got worse because of it, I’d never ever forgive myself. So we harnessed him up and made the 30 minute drive to the vet this morning.

He doesn’t go into a crate. He just isn’t that kind of cat. He loves a car trip: but only if we stay under 40mph. That speed is not an option when going to the vet! I have to say that today the hollering wasn’t too bad, and he never tried to get under iDJ’s feet (he was driving), so all in all it wasn’t too stressful this time. Our vet has a pet shop next door so I took him over there for a wander around while we waited our turn. The two filthy working border collies and the young Jack Russel in the queue ahead of us were giving Spot some very, very hungry looks…

It came our turn, and Spot was relaxed and calm, not a shiver or a scared meow. He had his arsehole examined, and his belly listened to, and his mouth and teeth checked – his guts were a bit gassy but everything else is excellent. What clinched it for our vet was the weighing. Spot has gained an entire US pound since we last visited! He’s just under 9lbs now (4.05 kilos), which is an amazing improvement and is a wonderful indicator that the disease is under control. Doc didn’t even feel the need to take a blood sample.

Spot has been on Science Diet C/D dry food nearly his entire life because when he was a very young cat, barely past kittenhood, he got bladder stones. They have never recurred due to the C/D, and I am happy to pay for it. The vet is impressed that Spottie never got fat on this food, as it is apparently quite common for cats to pack on the weight with Science Diet C/D. Considering that perfectly healthy Lokii also eats the C/D and also isn’t fat (okay he has little jiggly underbelly flaps, but he does have a waist and you can feel his ribs), I wonder if it is the way we feed it to them, which has been free-choice since birth. They have never known what real hunger feels like, so they never over-eat.

Last time we were in, the doc wanted us to give Spot wet food as a supplement, to help hydrate his kidneys. Doc really wanted us to stay with the C/d formula, and both boys loved it. For months, it was a super-special treat for them. Then we ran out for three days… and when we got more Spot refused to eat it. Dammit! Lokii got to eat it all, the flabby-bellied chow-hound! We’ve been so worried since.

So, since no one was waiting after us, the doc walked next door with us and spent a good amount to time talking over food for not just Spot, but poor Neko who has also been under the weather lately. Now, our vets always take their time, but it seemed a little different when he knew no one else was waiting – more relaxed – but it could be just me because I know how it feels to have impatient people glaring at you. Not that I heard much of the conversation as Spot was intent on walking us to the back of the shop where I had to stand there and watch him rub all over a pallet. Sigh.

We took him to the big garden centre on the way home. He likes it there! he got some love from a Polish lady who works in the small-animal department, and was carted around by myself outside to look at plants.

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So: it is so wonderful to have good news, and while I know the kidney disease will be what takes Spottie-Pants away from me eventually, I know it won’t be any time soon.

May-rry Christmas!

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Yeppers, it isn’t Christmas in July. It’s Christmas in May!

On Tuesday, we received a notice through our letterbox that we had a parcel for pick up. I wasn’t expecting anything, and it was addressed to both myself and iDJ – what could it be? Who was it from?

Well, dammit, it was too late to go and find out by the time iDJ got home at 6, so we had to wait and wonder a day longer.

The next day, the universe conspired to give us a small disaster and we were both home from work by noon. He drove up to an post and oooh! it was from my sister, now living near Anchorage, Alaska. We are a well-traveled small family – she more than I! In any case, they had only recently settled into their new digs in Alaska when the holidays rolled around. Dealing with all the paperwork and phone-call crap that comes with moving, their adorable three-year-old, unpacking, and having (of course!) our mutual genetic tendency toward being late as hell for anything that is supposed to be on time, sis got a parcel off to us at the end of March. As she said in her card*, “if I wait any longer, it will be next year!”

*I sent an email off to the creator of the card because the photo is too funny and I’d like to post it, but will not without permission and appropriate links. I’m too impatient to get this post up to wait for a response, however!

Do I care one bit about late? Hell no! A surprise is even better, actually – and since it came during aforementioned small disaster, it was even more welcome!

Hubby got two shirts – one I really want to steal that has our brother-in-law’s work logo on it. So wonderful to have a bit of his work uniform and feeling a bit closer to him. Also, it’s long sleeved jersey material – ooo, so perfect for work this time of year! **Rubbing hands in a crafty gleeful shifty-eyed way.**

But what I got? Way more awesome. Oh yeah.

Please bow down to the awesomeness that is: Hairy Leg Slippers.

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Now, my actual legs aren’t quite as hairy as the slippers, but the fur upon them isn’t lovely soft and blonde – oh no. I’m quite the brunette. Why doesn’t grey hair grow on my shins? It would save a lot of effort. You know, on those very, very few times I bother to run a dull razor over my legs…

When is the last time I changed those blades…

Anyhoo! They are totally awesome, because of this:

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Incredibly my sister had saved this photo and held on to it for years. She had an idea, a pattern, and the ability to crochet, and now my new slippers have my toenails! I can’t tell you how awesome that is – I can have my rainbow toenails even in the winter now!

By the way: I just re-read the post that the toenail pic came from (the shot is tiny, I know – I was new at blogging) and it is actually quite funny and explains an awful lot about my world view. Only two fellow bloggers even saw it at the time, being as it was my early days. Please have a gander – I think it is pretty good! Rainbow Toes, Fake Flowers, and the Fabulous Cow Coat

My sister is one of the very few people in my life who could conceive such an incredibly creative idea, and know exactly who would love it to bits.

I love you, sis – and thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Laundry Wars

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I have ONE CHAIR in our bedroom on which I put my clothes that are a little dirty, but not dirty enough to wash just yet. This includes my daily work clothes, which are really fuckin’ dirty after just two days but screw it, they can last a whole five days. I only have two pair of work pants that fit, and about three shirts I’m willing to destroy.

My darling dear has the ENTIRE spare room as his wardrobe; half-dirty clothes strewn all over the bed to be puked and shedded upon by the cats, his shoe collection lined up on the floor, under the bed, in the bottom of the wardrobe, and also piled on the dresser in their fancy original boxes. There is a perilous stack of shirts and trousers I’ve folded and piled up because I will wash it, and fold it, but I’ll be dammed if I’m putting it away in the nightmare he calls a wardrobe.

Did I mention the crap he tosses over the bannister ‘to air out’?

So. I get a little more than irritated when I go to get dressed in the morning and he’s tossed HIS SHIT on top of my ONE CHAIR in our bedroom.

I swear to fuck, next time he does it, I’m throwing the offending garment in the goddamn trash.

Rant over.

Easter Radio Special!

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Not for the religious: or at least, not for the religious who can’t stand hearing a good bit of what is probably blasphemy. Show starts in 30 minutes, and of course I’ll put up the link to the podcast afterwards, when it is all said and done and all the wine has been drunk!

Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/soulshenanigans

Radio station link: http://www.radio23.org/

s o u l s h e n a n i g a n s
“playing funkpunksoul’n’such” on freeform radio
this 17th April 2014 PST: 12-2pm EST: 3-5pm GMT: 8-10pm
This week: EP 267 :: a secular Maundy Thursday supper to cater for all of y’all Easter needs!

For anyone new – the DJ is my darling dear hubby, known here as iDJ. He’s been doing this show for over five years now, and knows his stuff!

He also does a new poster every week, and since the show is on Thursday, this year his theme has been throwbacks. Gotta love this one, on his confirmation day (he gave the name back a few years ago).

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Podcast/playlist: http://soulshenanigans.podomatic.com/entry/2014-04-17T15_37_58-07_00 . Can either stream it, or download it.

How Many of Your 9 Lives Are Left?

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My darling dear had a terribly close call while driving to the shops recently. An auld wan pulled out right in front of him, on a wet road, when he had a young wan about a meter and a half off his bumper. (For the non-Irish: wan means woman, basically just ‘one’ but rarely used for men.) Cars coming the other way, too. He made the quick decision to pass the old dear right snappy, nearly clipping her wing mirror in the action, and facing down the oncoming traffic. He made it, and left the young woman tailgating his arse to deal with the slow car instead.

Braking hard would have made a sandwich of our Mini, and steering while under ABS braking isn’t ideal. So he went for it, as I would have too, because while the Mini is 11 years old and just went over 125,000 miles on Friday, she is quick when you need her to be. I trust in that car daily when faced with slow arseholes behind slower tractors going around hard curves on narrow ass roads.

There is a dammed good reason Minis are used as rally cars!

As usual, I’ve gone off into a story instead of getting to my point. Which is entirely based on the Facebook update he did after arriving home: “Many thanks to the lady who pulled out in front of me (doing 65mph) today. If I braked, Ms tailgater behind would’ve been on my lap so boot to the floor into oncoming traffic & bye. Missed her wing mirrors by inches & lost one of my cat lives.”

Cat lives… we say that cats have nine lives, of course. I know hubby has had some bad times and if he thinks this is a number down, I believe him. I know of one other time he came close. So unless I want to get him all grumpy thinking about other times, I’ll say he still has seven. In reality, it’s probably six, but I don’t want to put him in a bad mood by asking. Maybe five. Who knows. Four? Sure there was at least one close call when he was very small.

I already did one post about a time I could have died, so I won’t go into the others. That post was gory enough!

How many cat lives out of nine do you have left? Tell me a story or write a post and link back if you find it’s a really good story!

Ooh, Socks Did it Again!

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One of the main themes I had when I first started this blog back in October 2012 was to follow my best friend’s journey into becoming a parent. I posted almost-weekly for nearly the entire pregnancy, as it was as much a learning experience for her as it was for me. It was great fun to have our weekly phone call (still being done) and get the update on where baby Button (now quite the little character) was in her gestational progress.

I introduce Socks here, and further explain our fantastic friendship here. If you would like to read the whole saga – it is pretty funny at times! – the link to every Socks post is here. Might be a few random posts about “actual” socks in there too, sorry!

Okay background is covered! New news! Socks and Bear have been making another new family member for the last 42 weeks. 42? Did I say 42 when a human gestational period is 40 weeks? Yes, yes I did. She went over time, and over over time… and FINALLY the docs said, ‘durr, yes, we have room at the inn.’

Believe me, Socks was not happy, not happy at all to have things delayed so long! She was scheduled to go in, being pretty much ready to go for over a week (just not having contractions yet) and it seems that everyone else decided to jump the queue ahead of her! She was due the 13th March. I had been joking since she told me she was pregnant that her child would be a Paddy’s Day baby, but thinking the whole time she’d be sooner. When she started to show signs of being ready, I was hoping for 6th March, as it coincides with the birthday of a loved one of mine (pretty apt as Socks’ daughter has exactly the same birthday as my only niece).

But no. The 6th passed, the 13th went by, the 17th was green (for me) but not a green light for them. Since then, it’s just been a drawn out waiting game.

The boy didn’t want to come out! Oh, didn’t I say? It’s a boy this time! He already seems to love his momma, as 42 weeks is a loooong time to hang around.

But! No more. Socks now has a son! Born yesterday at 7:52 pm, weighing in at 8lbs 4oz (3.74 kilos) and over 20 inches long (52cm)! Not an ouch to be had on Mom’s part, either – three pushes and hello, son!

Congratulations to Socks and Bear and Button on the new member of their warm family. He’s a lucky guy to be a part of it!