Category Archives: Random

Oct21

The Ugliest T-Shirt Ever

Posted on October 21, 2013 by heretherebespiders

Before we went out Saturday night, drinkin’, hubby was looking for his “Halloween shirt” to wear. I had no idea what he was talking about.

“It’s orange! Not really Halloween, but it’s orange. Close enough.”

I bought this at a thrift shop in Cleveland, Ohio, probably for .59 cents. It appears to be a corporation’s (Flood, whatever that is/was) attempt at team building. It is the ugliest thing I have ever seen – and I had to get it for my future hubby when I saw it. He loves this sort of tacky crap. I still can’t wrap my head around the truly terrible and terrifying artwork – that woman might have (slightly misplaced) muscles, but she’s going to have a really bad back if she stays all twisted up like that. I mentally try to turn her body so she is in proper perspective. Her poor left arm! It’s only about 2 foot long and is springing out of her neck!

And the man? Neck wider than head, thighs nearly wider than his waist. His grimace looks demonic. Maybe it is a Halloween shirt after all.

Sep22

Random writing

Posted on September 22, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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(Written yesterday, I didn’t get around to the photos until this morning)

Hi! I’m in the mood for some stream-of-consciousness writing. I’ve not done this in a while!

It’s currently 4:30 in the afternoon, and I’m outside in the back yard, snuggled in my adored Coleman folding camp chair. I will be heartbroken when this chair wears out! None of the other three folding chairs we have are half as comfortable, and none have two cup holders. Best chair ever, and I won’t find another over here to replace it.

It’s about 22degrees c, or 72f. This is my perfect, perfect temperature. I’m in shorts and my bikini top, likely getting the last rays of sunshine that I will get until next April. It’s breezy, but it feels good rather than being chilling. I almost feel as though my upper body and shins are sucking the sunshine in, gasping for this last chance. It’s wonderful.

I did a little putzing about with plants today, and took a rake of pictures with my iPhone. First thing I did was pot up some sweet William seedlings. The S.W. has gone to seed and oh myyyy, have they have germinated. Oops! I put a call out on Facebook for anyone who wanted seeds/seedlings to come and get them, but had not one taker. I think all my local friends and family are only going football crazy and have no time for anything on FB that isn’t Mayo related. I experimented by putting up a pic of my Houttuynia cordata ‘pied piper’, as it is red and green. Tons of ‘likes’ for that! Yep, football-brains only around here it seems.

I don’t think I mentioned that I was doing another experiment, this time with what I hoped were seeds from my skinny purple iris. I put them into sifted fine soil, in a plastic take-out container that has a lid. Set it on a sunny windowsill and left it.* For about four months! Finally, when I remembered to check on it, there was life. Not just the moss and mould, but something that looked like grass. I sighed and supposed that it was grass, and was prepared to give up… until I took a closer look and realised that these were indeed baby iris plants! Go, me! *Same method I used to ahahaget the lilac seeds to germinate last year.

Today I potted them up; I really hope they survive. I don’t want to put them outside, so I hope they don’t get too big, or get confused about what season it is.

We also Had A Man In to sweep our chimney. First time in 8 years, we were really chancing our arm waiting so long! He brought in a big shop-vacuum and his brushes and rods (in a nifty copper tube, it probably is an antique), laid down some quite grey but clean sheets, and got to work. Only took about 15 minutes for the actual cleaning, another 15 for setting up and tearing down again. €45 – a bit much for 30 minutes of work, really, but when done he asked hubby, “You do a bit of computer work, don’t ye? I’ve a 2 month old Garmin sat nav that isn’t right, and the shop won’t help me. Can I drop it intae ye and you’ll have a look?” So, I’m guessing we’ll get €20 back in trade. Got to appreciate men with skills!

The clouds are sweeping in, and the angle of the sun is so low this time of year that my neighbour’s roof leaves my back garden in shadow. I have the smallest sliver of sun left to me, along the back wall, an imperfect triangle that is getting smaller minute by minute. I’ve only been writing about a half an hour, with a break to help hubby bring in the shopping. It seemed when I started that I would have sunshine forever. Gone, gone! So fleeting, the things that we treasure the most. I’ll have to put my real clothes back on and go sit out front, instead… Ah, that’s better. Back in the heat, with a little less skin showing because NOONE needs to see me in a bikini top. The bikini rather makes my neck sore anyway – there’s a bit of weight pulling on my neck, can’t imagine what that’s about… Hehehe.

Hmm. Now that I’m out front, I’m noticing that the Tigridia has nice fat seed heads. I wonder could I start some of those next year? I wonder would any of you be interested in giving it a try, too? We could have a seed exchange! Of stuff that is really, really complicated and slow to grow. Anyone up for it?

Hubby’s been to our local (award-winning) craft butcher, and intends on grilling the delicious meat he purchased. He originally said he was going to grill in the morning, to fortify ourselves before the big game. He’s also still deciding if we watch it at home, or go to the pub. If we watch at home, we’ll go to the pub after, of course. I know I’ll be hurting on Monday morning if we go to the pub to watch (it’s on at 3 in the afternoon! That’s a bit early even for me to start horsing drinks into me), but the craic will never, ever be forgotten if we’re with a crowd and we win. Besides, everyone I know will be hurting Monday morning anyway! I think we should go out to watch it. I want those hugs from drunken strangers, I want to see a sea of red and green jerseys, I even want the little girls and boys in their Mayo gear, eating crisps and drinking orange, trying to be good and grown up in the pub while dad, or mum, or mum and dad, are shouting at the telly and downing pints. I want face paint and red and green fingernails on the women and silliness and extreme emotion! I want the Irish sport experience. I love it, I do!

Sep1

Ugh!

Posted on September 1, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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This sponsored ad started showing up in my Facebook feed yesterday.

Is that picture on the left of a fat girl? NO. Is that picture on the right of an emaciated, bony, bitchy-looking girl? YES.

I have no idea why anyone would want to look like the girl on the right. She was happy enough to be seen in a bikini in the first shot, right? So why go for the half-dead, oh here are my hipbones, don’t cut yourself! look?

And why they hell is it being suggested to me? I follow more pubs than hair salons (and only the salon that is owned by a good friend). I don’t make friends of fashion sites or diet sites or makeup sites, etc, etc. FB needs to try a little harder, because this ad pisses me off. “Woman Daily” is a big fail-y. Using a pic of Posh Spice’s skeletal frame with her built-in silicon airbags is also a huge turn off. What is wrong with the people who think this crap is attractive?

Aug31

Lokii and Neko

Posted on August 31, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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I started following a Facebook group, Bengal Cat World – mostly because Cats n Co follows them, I have a Bengal, and the main Bengal spokes-cat on their page is also named Spot. How could I resist?

Whomever is in charge is a lovely person, very willing to personally welcome new followers and have a chat. She/he also posts enough photos daily to overflow a litterbox. This is going to seriously annoy my other FB friends as I can’t help but ‘like’ all the Bengal photos from around the globe.

They have ‘unbaby me‘ app; I wonder if there is an ‘unkitty me’ to save my friends’ sanity? Sled – Unbaby was meant for you! Hubby uses it, and has all the baby pics on his FB feed (except for close family/friends) replaced with pics of cats. How awesome is that, you can like their photo and make them happy, never letting them know it was really a cute kitty you liked…

Who am I kidding, there will never be an unkitty app! We all know the Internet is made up of mostly porn and cats, who would ever want to block teh kittahs?

Anyhoo: in my long, rambling, old manner of doing a blog post (before I got sucked into posting sooo many flower pics), I saw a pic today from the group of a Bengal cuddling up to what is probably a miniature pincher puppy. Yes, it’s entirely squee-worthy, if you are the type of person inclined to squee (I won’t be so rude as to steal the pic and repost it here. Go find Bengal Cat World if you really need to see it).

Being a mostly squee-free-zone, I immediately thought that maybe a small dog would help Lokii overcome his fear of Neko.

Not that I want a small dog in my family… sorry, small-dog-fans, but I seem to only want to love and live with big, sheddy, intimidating-looking dogs who don’t drool. Dogs that are smart enough to listen and obey, but not smart enough (or dumb enough, it’s a fine line) to get bored and eat the leg off a table for their own entertainment.

Neko suits my needs perfectly – she’s a bit small for me at 36 kilos (about 80lbs), and she sheds a lot, scares people (unless they want to hug her, in which case she freaks out and really scares them) doesn’t drool, and is happiest inside – sleeping or following us around – and rarely getting into trouble.

But Little Lokii doesn’t like her. Lokes never learned dog body language, as our previous big hairy boy died only a few weeks after Lokii became part of the family. They were just starting to get along, too. But my heart was so very broken that I couldn’t get another dog for a few years, which was too long of a wait for teaching a kitty how to speak dog.

The pair does interact, occasionally. When Lokii gets full of beans (and I’m there in the room to run behind if things get too scary) he will sit under the living room table and reach out and “tag” Neko’s ankles as she walks past. Or if Lokii is up high and feeling confident, he’ll tag her in the butt, or tail.

Of course the moment Neeks decides that it is playtime, Lokii freaks out, hisses and runs away. Sigh.

Scardey-cat.

Basically, he’s a little bully. So maybe a few weeks with a dog smaller than he is would give him the confidence to deal with Neko in a more… adult manner.

By which I mean that I really wish he would play with his damn dog, she wants to so bad!

We can’t deal with that sad face forever.

Jun23

Watering it all down a bit

Posted on June 23, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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I’ve been trying out watercolours for the first time since my age was measured in single digits. I didn’t like it then, as I’m too much of a perfectionist and it annoyed me that watercolour paint didn’t stay where I put it.

But life itself is much more fluid these days. I thought perhaps I’d let loose of some of my control-freak nature and just see what happened.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to share my work or not. Again, letting go of the control freak, I decided what the hell. But I still have to give an advance apology/explanation for my efforts. 1. I have NO training on how to paint with watercolours. 2. I’ve not tried to do this in over 30 years. 3. My brain isn’t working quite right.

So. I meant to find hubby’s pastels and play around, because I had some good clean cardboard I didn’t mind wasting. Instead I found his watercolour paints, from… high school era. Black, white, green, red, blue yellow. Not a lot to work with! Also the only proper watercolour paper I have was gifted to my by Socks, and is post-card sized. So I sat down and looked at what she’d sent me. Paintbrushes that hold water in the barrel. Big black pencils that, mysteriously (to me) said watercolour on their sides. Hmm. So I did a quick sketch of the first thing that came into my head, in black, and then filled it in with paint. Here’s the result.

The eye is terrible – but that’s the first thing I drew and the rest didn’t quite follow along those Disney lines. Ah well.

So, next was to find something else to paint. I wanted to do the bell from my local church. While thinking it over, I realised something. I’ve had a small set of expensive Derwent coloured pencils since I was a teen. I recalled that the tin they live in says ‘watercolour’ on it. Holy shit, I’ve had a good set of watercolour pencils for decades and didn’t know what they were for.

So I drew the bell. The perspective is all wrong. I know. I refuse to care.

I thought about it for days before I finally got the nerve up to wet it down.

I actually made the perspective worse! But I learned a lot and it was fast and, dare I say, fun. I’ve another project in mind, way above my skill, but screw it, you have to start somewhere.

Jun7

A diary type of post

Posted on June 7, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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Let’s see. Today, for me, started at midnight when I had a very late dinner of hot chicken wings, and then decided I would sleep in the hammock. I put out two blankets, one on top and one underneath, and my pillow. I also wore a long sleeved shirt, sweatpants, and socks just in case it got cold or there were midges aprowl.

I passed out quite quickly, as I normally do. This time it was without the help of a book or my ipad, as I didn’t want any settling dew to ruin either. I woke up all the way just once during the night, and looked up to see the Big Dipper overhead. I cuddled into my blankets happily and went right back to sleep.

About 5 am the sun was coming up, and it seemed that the dew point had finally been reached as I felt distinctly damp. I was also resting most of my arse and back on the ground. I guess the cotton of the hammock stretches more when damp, or it had finally given up on holding my substantial self off the ground. I brought my covers and pillow inside, and found hubby still asleep on the couch. I chased him off by talking utter nonsense, he told me later, and I didn’t wake up until 10am. Yikes: I’m normally up at 7, 7:30.

From the couch I can’t really see if the sun is out; can’t see if it will be a good day. I got up, had some water, drank the last of my iced tea, went outside for about 10 minutes and realised it was too hot, already – so I went back inside and watched a truly terrible episode of Stargate SG1. Just when I started to fall asleep I made myself get up and go back outside.

It was actually, truly, HOT today. By 5:30 it was 31.7 out – or 89 in American money (as hubby likes to say). I spent most of my day in shorts and a bikini top, and even then I had to move out of the sun quite often. I went to the shop once, for smokes, and took a shower (dammit, I’m peeling – I really did get some sunshine). After 3 I walked to the doctor and found out I get another week off work.

Hubby is doing a BBQ tonight – he goes a bit mad and tonight we have three kinds of sausages, chicken wings, pork chops, and maybe some corn (just for me). No, we don’t have company over. He just really likes to cook. He brought me a sampling of wings and a sausage a few minutes ago, as I sat out front getting the last rays. What a lovely thing to do. I feel terrible that I’m out front and he’s out back.

Oh, I should show you my tan. It’s especially funny compared to hubby’s Irish complexion:

Is that not bloody amazing? I love how he only has freckles up to where a short-sleeved shirt ends, and then he’s alabaster white above that line. Me? Even the paler underside of my arms, or my palms, aren’t as white as he is. He truly is the whitest man I know. Who loves hip-hop. Go figure.

Jun5

Sun has cooked my brain

Posted on June 5, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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Randomness will abound. Forewarned is forearmed!

I have a hammock now.

Actually, I’ve had it for nigh on 10 years. Now I have a stand to hang it from. And even that took 3.5 hours of fiddling, giving up, and having some fabulous local welder a make me a longer centre pole so the massive hammock would fit.

My arse still hits the ground when I sit up, but it’s lovely. I’m desperate to sleep in it overnight. Maybe tonight?

I’ve been off work, because my brain finally had a big crash and now I’m on happy pills. About time I admitted I needed help. Coincidentally, the weather has been amazing and just what I needed. I’m actually peeling from a sunburn – I don’t think that’s happened to me since I moved here. I got so hot today I had to go inside to cool off with a damp towel. Woot!

I also went swimming today, but I didn’t bring my iPhone as it was scary enough leaving the car keys on shore while I snorkelled about. It was cold! But I had a good time. Here’s the view from where I parked.

Well, that’s a crappy photo. But I didn’t want to take a pic of the two little boys in their underwear (knickers, they kept saying – thought only girls wore knickers?). Don’t you just love that warning sign?

I’m out front – and getting chewed up by midges so I don’t know how long I will last. I was out here last week (before the midges hatched), and the sunset was pretty interesting.

I washed the car yesterday so I bet the reflections tonight would be clearer if the sunset was cooperating.

I still don’t know what this is. Help?

It apparently comes in more than one colour.

Okay my face is on fire from bug bites and I’ve retreated indoors. Little noseeum bastards. Like I’m not itchy enough on a normal day? Perhaps sleeping outside isn’t such a good idea. A bird pooped on my hammock today, anyway.

A bird with better aim pooped somewhere else this afternoon.

That’s my iced tea, in the cup holder of my favourite camp chair. I was sitting and reading and suddenly – splash! tea all over my right bicep. I look in my cup, expecting a chunk of moss from the roof. No. It’s a perfectly aimed bird shit. Right in my cup. Thanks, avian friend. The tea was all warm and nasty from the sun, anyway.

Now, some say that having a bird crap on you is good luck (why o why). Immediately after this happened, I checked the lottery ticket my mother in law bought for me last week, and I’d won €12. But it was purchased May 31 and I only thought to look at it because someone said bird poo was good luck. Ooooo, spooky, eh? Hehehehe.

May3

La la la land

Posted on May 3, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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I feel as if I’m in la-la land. Again.

And I’m going to be immediately rather pedantic, it seems! This is going to be one of my stream-of-consciousness posts.

My mother always hated the expression ‘I feel like’. As in, ‘I feel like ice cream!’ So…how does ice cream feel, exactly? Cold, wet, creamy? No – you feel “as if, or as though” you want ice cream.

She had a damn good point, and I’ve never forgotten it. I rarely, if ever, say ‘I feel like’. Even when it does work, as in: I feel like I’m in la-la land.

My mother’s teachings might explain why I can be rather spare in using contractions, even as a native English speaker/writer. I’m always trying to make sure that I’ve been clearly understood. I’ve been told by someone who refuses to use the slightest bit of text-speak that I don’t use enough contractions. Hmm.

That said, I live in a country where “amn’t” makes perfect sense. Shudder. But I use it because it works.

Yes, I’ve had a bit too much to drink a bit too early, or a bit less food today than I usually do. Or both! No matter, I have the cats keeping me company and a lot of nonsense on my mind. iDJ is in charge of food tonight, so- wheee!

I guess the biggest thing on my mind is the work situation. I hate what I’m doing, and everyone in charge knows it. I wasn’t hired for this role, so – thankfully – they are trying to hire someone who wants to do it. So far, one person accepted and then bowed out the day he was meant to start. That should tell you how awful my job is – in a massively depressed economy with a high unemployment rate, someone could say ‘no thanks’ to doing my job.

But…I was told that they were interviewing again this week, and I got my hopes up again. Fuck it, lie to me, it keeps me sane with hope! They’ve said where they want to put me, and I’m totally down with the new role – just get me outta this one. It has sucked all the joy out of life for me. I can’t even see that my job isn’t my life. I spend my ‘real life’ trying to recover from work, which means I’ve made work my whole life. Pretty stupid for an office job.

And…to beat a stupid, dead analogy even further to death – the spiderweb that made me think (hard, for a change) has just been erased. Poof! gone. I didn’t get to do it myself. They hired a painter, he power-washed the building and then just…painted over where the web used to be. Well, dammit all to hell and back.

I’m pretty sure there’s another analogy there about how we aren’t ever in control of any goddamn thing in life. I’m not good at ‘deep’ so – bummer, dude. I feel denied. Sheeeiiiiiit (in my best Clay Davis from The Wire voice).

In any case. I’m sorry as hell that I’ve not been up to reading anyone else’s posts, or even giving proper responses to comments on my own blog. La-la-land, you see.

La la la, la-di-da…

Apr20

The Butts Have it

Posted on April 20, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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Wow, thanks everyone – the pic of Mr Spottie-pants with the grin on was really well received, and I made some new friends because of it!

But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t post this photo. Because I am clearly a 9 year old boy trapped in a 40-something woman’s body. Sled told me so, and I believe her. Well, she said 11, but I think 9 is just about right for my sense of humour.

Heehehe! Yes, I’m in that kinda mood. Please take note, those of a scientific bent (rather than those of us who are just…bent), that Lokii’s ninth point of coloration is clearly visible. Only the male Siamese have nine points.

Apr12

Dream myself awake

Posted on April 12, 2013 by heretherebespiders

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On Wednesday morning, I woke myself up shortly before my alarm was due to go off. I was dreaming about one of my very good cats, Seymour, and my very best dog, Shade. They are both dead, and I knew this in my dream. The only visual I have left of the dream is of photos of them; two animals who never met in life. I have an aerial image of the photos, which were submerged in a swimming pool. The water was green with algae (more proof that I dream in colour). Either the pool was very tiny or photos were very large, because they nearly covered the bottom. My head tells me it was a tiny pool, as if that really matters.

I don’t remember anything of the dream previous to that image. What is clear in my memory is that I was trying to cry, out of grief for my lost ones, struggling to make a sound and to let the pain loose. I succeeded, but had to come entirely awake to make a sound. I awoke to the sound of my own sobs. The feeling of finally being able to voice my pain was both a relief and terrible.

I couldn’t stop crying, but I didn’t want to. I let myself go on for a bit – lying on my back, weighted down by cats, with hubby next to me. His sleep-breathing went unchanged, as far as I could tell. Eventually I not only made the sounds, but a few tears rolled from each eye. That was all I needed to recover, to acknowledge my good boys.

I got up and went about my morning as usual, but with a heavy feeling of loss to go with my puffy face. When I went upstairs to get dressed for work, I asked iDJ if he’d heard me crying.

He said he had. I said it was pretty bad, and I could have used some comforting – why didn’t he try?

He said that the last two times I cried in my sleep, I shoved him away.

Oh, I said. I didn’t know I had done that before. I was dreaming then. Sorry. This time I was awake. I thought it might have sounded different this time?

No, he said. It was the same. But he’d try again to comfort me the next time.

I don’t ever remember crying myself awake before. To sleep, yes – of course. Cursing, fighting, and arguing myself awake? Sure – and I know I do it a lot more often than I’m aware of as I don’t usually wake up. iDJ is used to my sleep habits, as strange as they apparently are. He’s so very used to them that what felt to me like screams of pain could be ignored. Wow.

I thought about saying something in type, somewhere, about the incident as it felt… prophetic. But I don’t really believe in that sort of thing. Despite the one dream I had that… well, that’s another story.

And even if I did blare it all over Facebook, and my blog: what then? A) Nothing bad happens and I look like my normal not-quite-right self. B) Something bad does happen and I’m in the “I told you so!” position – awkward and goes way beyond not-quite-right when you try to talk about it. C) Something bad does happen, but not to me, and has nothing to do with my animals or to my family, and does not cause me to feel anything like the loss I experienced that morning.

A) and C) suit my skeptical mind. A) is no harm to anyone. C) however, if something happens, is a matter of coincidence and I refuse to make any connection. Refuse, refute… because C) did happen.

Humans have survived this long due to superstition. It works as a survival instinct. It is no longer needed, but back in our early days it made sense to be wary of everything. Did my wife die because she ate that pork, or is it because she saw a black cat before she ate it? Without science, being wary of both the pork and the cat made sense. I’m not picking this example at random – to this day, two of the three Abrahamic religions believe that pork is bad, and black cats are still considered bad luck in many cultures.

Science teaches us how to identify coincidence. As my experimental dream-sample is only one day, one incident, I have too small a sample on which to base an experiment that my dream foretold grief.

But it was dammed unsettling, in the way strong, unexpected emotion is. I still don’t know why I had such an emotional dream. I know why I had my good dog on my mind, but not Seymour.

Damn, I miss them.

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