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Gearing up for Halloween!

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I’m sitting here with a smile on my face. It’s such a nice feeling. This is why I love Halloween!

iDJ and I spent about an hour this eve when he got home from work sorting through clothes for his costume. It got a little stressful, as nothing was working right. His stonewash jeans were too tight, and he needed something 80’s on his legs. What to do? Ah, trust in the resources of the SpiderQueen.

I found a pair of leggings in fabulous colors, and made him try them on. Oh, perfect! His legs look fantastic. He put on the boots he wanted to wear, and I quickly sorted out a shirt and the accessories to make a perfect 80’s costume. It says a lot about me that I actually still own clothes from 1985. Says even more that I can recreate the ‘look’ we wanted so easily. So he’s sorted, except for his hair and makeup tomorrow.

Except… for his junk.

He’s wearing tight leggings. Men are not meant to wear leggings. Especially not with just a t-shirt to cover their ‘bits.’ I told him that he was in charge of figuring out what undies to wear – he’s a boxers man – how? I don’t know. Nor do I want to see the experiments.

But! He posts this on FB:

Note: he always carries a man bag for his gear – another gender stereotype shattering difference I forgot yesterday! He has a ‘murse’; I hate handbags and refuse to carry one.

iDJ: My good lady had me play dress up earlier so my costume is sorted. Now if only I can figure out where to stash my junk…
Me: Oh my god. I can not believe you said that! Right, I’m going to have to buy you something that doesn’t show off your junk so well!
iDJ: Camera, phone, wallet with no money, hip flask, bible – that junk!
Me: Oh. Right.

Of course the facebook feed has gotten worse from there. We all knew he wasn’t talking about his iPhone! Braggart. I have no idea how to keep my pictures of tomorrow from being nearly pornographic.

To get our collective brains back into happy-land, here’s Dogzilla dressed as Spider-Man:

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I spent nearly two hours working with my mask today. It doesn’t fit well, and I have to wear a wig, too. The mask has to be glued into place, and I’ll need to blend makeup to cover the bare skin. I’m not a fan of masks, but this one is in two parts with the chin separate so my mouth will work as loudly as normal. The functional mouth was very important because I refuse to drink Guinness out of a straw. So, there was trimming, and fitting, and more trimming… and I found out that my liquid latex has gone hard and mostly unusable, so the edges of the mask will be really obvious, dammit. Also, I have clown white but no black, and I need to blend in grey makeup to match the mask. Bummer. A shopping trip that includes me is scheduled for tomorrow, but I can’t get proper professional quality makeup locally.

I’ve not even sorted my clothing yet. Uuuurgh. But really, I love Halloween!

A final note, if you’ll permit. I’m a terrible self-promoter, I couldn’t sell heaters to Eskimos. However, in keeping with the Halloween theme, I’d like to give you directions to the MP3 podcast of iDJ’s Halloween radio show. It is 2 hours, recorded live last night, and really, really, good. You’ll get my references to Glen Campbell yesterday better, too. Go here: http://bit.ly/vJS8fD and, if you want the playlist first or after listening, go here: http://bit.ly/ts8gXY

You’ll hear himself talking every half hour or so, getting progressively drunker and happier as he goes. That’s normal for his show 🙂

Kitten update

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I felt I should include an update on the kitten I rescued yesterday. He was pretty good until about 3am, then the mewing started. I have earplugs in my nightstand, and was not slow to use them. Hubby either didn’t know I had another pair, or was too scared of waking me up to ask for them. So, he got NO sleep – up at least 4 times, culminating in him sleeping on the couch with a huge, heavy pillow over his head. He said at one point, he went into the spare room and lay on the floor with his pillow for 15 mins trying to make kitty feel better. Aw.

Neither of our cats or the dog got any sleep either, they were too excited by the odd noises from behind the closed door.

I started getting up for kitten around 6. Got him more food and water, as he’d spilled the water. It didn’t help, he spilled it again. I got him a new clean, dry towel next – a good idea as he finally had peed on the one in the cage. The next time, I gave him a little stuffed toy for comfort; one I didn’t mind having to throw away if it turned out the little guy had something contagious. The last time I went in, I poked a dowel rod through the bars and gently stroked his head and back, and that did the trick. He was lonely. Not so very feral, then. Good.

He also looked better. He’d taken the time to clean his little face of the dirt that had accumulated. His nose and paws were still stained a bit brown from being outside so long, but the pink now showed through. A cat that cleans itself is a healthy cat, another good sign. No snot or eye-boogers, either. Yay!

Hubby was nearly late to work from sleeping through the alarm on his phone and being exhausted. I said he could have the car to make it on time, and I’d walk up later and get it, as I wasn’t awake enough to drive yet. I got the car around 10:15, came home and packed up kitten for the trip to the vet, about 30 mins away.

Got there no problem; kitten was silent, staring at my face the whole trip. The Dr said he was a he (I knew it, from the screaming & neediness – not a judgement on men, just male cats), and he didn’t have the nasty fatal disease they were worried about. Ears eyes nose & mouth looked good too, but he had a sore hip from an unknown altercation. A little painkiller shot, and now what do I do with him, sir? Well, they had no room to store him for pick up, so I could take him back home and schedule a pick up, or take him to Ballyhaunis myself. I said I’d be glad to take him, if I knew where it was. They were too stupid to offer to tell me, so I didn’t bother to ask – the directions would have been suspect. No answer at the MSPCA cattery, either, but I left my mobile no.

I started back home, and realised I was to pass our vet’s office. I stopped in to ask if they knew where the cattery was, nearly gave him away to another customer, and got a call back from the SPCA. Whew. Got my directions, on my way!

Had one panic and had to call the hubby for help – Ballyhaunis wasn’t signposted at a dead end T-junction. After one bad turn from iDJ’s also highly suspect directions, I found the place, and as per their request, rang to say I was there.

A lovely lady cradling a tiny terrier of some sort inside her fleece jacket greeted me and took me into the cat area, where I deposited the little guy into a much bigger cage containing three other kittens of his age. He did go and hide, but no hissing or growling. I gave some love to the two kittens that were asking for some, and then it was time to go.

I had been given some kitten food last night, so I donated that to the shelter along with a big box of unopened dog biscuits that our girl can’t have due to her allergies. I was never made to feel bad or guilty for bringing them another cat – and they have a lot, this is a no-kill shelter – and I was given some gently hinted ideas for helping them raise donations. Everything was clean: there was no odor or mess, and it was obvious the animals are loved, even in their dozens. How hard, so very hard, to do that job. I would fall in love every day, over and over.

The way I fell in love yesterday with a blue eyed white kitten with grey streaks on his head, back and tail. Yes, I’m crying now. Please don’t tell anyone.

What have I done…

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I caught a mostly feral kitten this eve. He was screaming non stop, and when I talked back, he started following me. So I got him to follow me home, into the house, and trapped the wee thing in a towel. I only got bitten once but it sounded like I was killing him. He’s in a cage, in a closed room my indoor, pampered boys aren’t allowed into. Called the SPCA as I cannot keep him. To a vet in the late morning to see if he is sick, if he’s fine then the SPCA will take him. If not, goodbye, little guy. Why can’t I be hard enough to turn away? I’m very sad for him already.

Stupid shit that makes me smile

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I was just looking through one of two clothing ‘junk drawers’ for Halloween costume accessories. I’m really excited about what I’m making iDJ go as this year, and I had to sort through the drawer full of scarves, bandannas, flowery hair clips, shawls, old undies I might fit into again, and weird and/or winter socks. I found some suitable gear for him, but I also found these:

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Aren’t they just the stupidest things you’ve ever seen? How can you be in a bad mood with ridiculous stuffed lions or alligators on your feet? How great is it that the lions have bellybuttons?They are warm, too. I’ll have to protect them from Lokii the fabric-eater, but I think they need to come out of the drawer and smile smarmily up at me this winter.

Aaa! I forgot an important part! My superduper hubby got me these; he does all the shopping. You gotta love a man that knows his wife is a goofball and proud of it. X

Why is my dog purple?

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I took the Queen for walkies today, go me! The weather was good (not pissing rain or looking like it was about to, not windy) and I was up, washed, motivated, and looking out the window at 3pm. The timing is important, because the local school lets out at 3:30 or thereabouts and I detest walking Herself through hordes of tweens. She doesn’t like them, they hog the pavement (sidewalk), and sometimes they try to pet her, which really freaks her the fuck out. I’m not thrilled to deal with them either, though I do like it when one says ‘that dog is savage!’ when we pass, because ‘savage’ means ‘awesomely cool’ and not ‘vicious throat-ripping beast.’

We had a good little walk, with no excitement. She did get to go into the post office with me, a rarity. I won’t take her inside if there’s a queue (unless it is people we know). She’s a big dog, I don’t want to scare anyone, and our post office is usually chock-full of old ladies. The Queen loves old ladies. When she loves you and wants to say hi, she does this funny front-legs bounce which can be intimidating. She’s under control, but just looks a bit excitable.

Today she got to put her feet up in the service window and say hi to the clerk; that was good.

We also went in the Paper Shop, to see if my mother in law was working. She wasn’t, but I had a little chat with one of her co-workers on issues of little importance. I do like my town.

We also had a short visit with Chris. Chris is… not all there. I believe the story is that he lives in a home for the handicapped, but by his own admittance. He always wears a suit, no tie. He perches his bony butt on the windowsills of various businesses up and down the main street and chain-smokes. Some days are bad days for him; when you say hello he doesn’t answer and his upper lip is caught on a snaggled lower tooth, making him look a bit deranged. Other days, like today, are good ones, and he’ll actually talk a moment and ask about the dog. He never remembers that he always asks the same things.

On the way home, Dogzilla likes to walk on the church wall as it gives her a nice perspective to survey every.last.moving.thing. I lean and wait while she checks out the ‘hood. Today, I noticed a purple spot on her lovely white fur. And another, smaller one, near it:

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I know the pic sucks. It’s just for funsies.

It took me a moment to puzzle out why my dog had purple spots. Then I remembered: she was on the couch with iDJ last night after dinner. He was drinking wine. Red wine. He spilled wine on the dog!

I think he could officially have a drinking problem… at the very least, getting it into his mouth!

Lokii has been Brushed!

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Not ready or willing to write tonight, but I was in the mood for a quick cat finger painting. Here’s my little man Lokii when he was just tiny. All ears and nose!

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I am emotionally attached to my plants.

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Pre-script, written after but edited to go before the post: I’ve made myself snort a laugh about this post: I just told a friend it was hard to write because I hate to get ‘sappy.’ Get it? Its a plant-pun. Oh, leaf me alone, I like puns.

I took and posted a picture on FB today that got me thinking about plants:

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The pic is of one of my lantana bushes that I grew from seed this year. I am very much in love with the four that grew and thrived for me, and I don’t want them to die. I’m so worried that I brought them inside last month so the hurricane winds and rain wouldn’t kill them. I’m also afraid our winter this year will be harsh again, and I know these are semi-tropical plants. I also think they aren’t too pleased to be indoors, and I keep a close eye on them.

I love my lantanas for two reasons. Firstly is because the house I grew up in, in NW Florida, had an empty lot next door that was full of native plants and scrub-brush. Prickly-pear cactus, strange fungi and mosses, wild rosemary, palmetto, pine trees, and lantana bushes. In retrospect, I actually did pay a lot of attention to the flora around me, but that’s probably because I was a very lonely and outdoorsy kind of kid. Anyhoo, the lantana were very close to our property, maybe even on it, as I was never sure where the boundary actually was. I never gave them much thought – they aren’t that pretty and the foliage has a strong smell – until fall arrived. In the autumn the Monarch butterflies would come through on their trek down to Mexico – not the great hordes you see in pictures, but enough that catching them with a butterfly net (ok, it was actually a little fishing net) was great fun and entertainment for hours. I’ve always loved the fall, and always will associate it with lantana: the unique smell it has, the pink and yellow flowers, and the delicate sipping tongues of the Monarchs.

When I moved to Ireland I was shocked to see tiny lantana plants for sale in our local posh (expensive) garden store. I tried not to shout, but what came out of my mouth was, “That’s a weed! How can they sell it for €20? It’s a stinky, huge weeeeeeed!”

But I secretly wanted one.

Last October, I got to go to visit my sister in South Carolina, to meet my only niece for the first time. I won’t go into great detail about the visit – it was a year ago and I was there for two weeks! I’d be here all day. Wish I had a blog then, though. Anyhow, one fine day we went to the beach, my little niece’s first ever visit. On the way back to the car I spotted a scraggly lantana, in seed, at the edge of the parking lot. So I gathered a few berries to bring home, not having any idea if, or how, they were meant to germinate.

Double-special, these little plants! A reminder of one of the few good memories of childhood. A bit of home, when I am so very far away from all the places my memories were formed, and a physical memento of a great visit and a ‘baby’s first’. Hopefully, I will have these little green friends forever.

Here’s another plant, a houseplant, that I have an emotional connection to:

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Doesn’t look like much, does it? It’s a common Christmas cactus. But it is special, because it comes from my grandmother’s cactus, originally. Grammy died in… oh hell…I’m guessing 1976, 1977 at the latest. I was really young, so I don’t have a reference point to pin it down more accurately. Grammy was our mom’s mom, and Mom inherited the cactus when her mother died. The cactus lived outside (Florida, remember?) and it bloomed around Thanksgiving (end of November) rather than Christmas, so we called it the Thanksgiving Cactus. Although, as you can see, it blooms for Halloween in Ireland – and also in late April or May – an Easter-ween cactus?

Fast forward to 1998, the last time I lived in Florida. When my mother died, I took a cutting from the Thanksgiving Cactus and started my own plant.

Fast forward again to 2005, when I moved to Ireland. I wasn’t allowed to bring my plants! I took cuttings from nearly everything I had growing. I couldn’t use soil, to prevent any potential disease being brought in. I put them in water, in glass jars, inside double zipper bags and then boxed them up in my shipping container in the dark for 5 weeks…

Some cuttings survived and grew again, but very few. The one I was really worried about was the Thanksgiving cactus – and you can see, it is fine, happy and healthy.

I have known this one plant for over 30 years. To me, this bit of beauty is more than a plant, it is a living gift from two beautiful women. I don’t have them anymore, but I do have a cactus that has grown and flowered for three generations of my family. Of course I love it.

I be a thrifty bitch

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I don’t have a particular topic tonight. I have so very, very much in my head – especially at 6am when the cats have woken me up and I can’t read in bed because my optimum iPad placement is impossible due to iDJ actually using his pillow as a pillow, instead of as a prop for my machinery (the nerve of the man) and having an iPad fall over and clunk into my forehead as I drift off is not only painful but isn’t conducive to sleep – but at 9:30pm, the weight of the day is heavy upon me and I can’t seem to think clearly.

Hence, me spitting out a massive run-on sentence that includes both dashes and parentheses.

I do wish that I could get up and write during those early morning brainstorms. There’s no way I’m trying it without coffee, or at the very least chocolate milk while the coffee brews. It feels traitorous, slackeresque, to get up and play in the dark when I know damn well I have to have 8 hours sleep or I will be useless. Then again, once the job listings have been checked and discarded, I am useless during the day.

During my extended unemployment I have tried not to goof off during the daylight hours. I’ve done a ton of things, some fun, some not, but all things that were needed around the house. I’ve done a ton of painting (fun) and when we got a pressure washer on the cheap, I couldn’t wait to blast the concrete patio, walls, and windows (massive fun, but really bad for my back). It’s wet here, there’s moss and mould growing on everything, and cleaning things to the point of new gives me great satisfaction. Fun and messy!

I’ve also fixed the sticky oven door, and scraped years of goop off the top of the stove (it came with the house, that shit was burned on). I installed new taps in the bathroom, too! They aren’t tight, so when you shut the tap off the whole thing moves, but that’s because it took me a whole damn day to put them on and I don’t have the right tools to tighten them up.

My best ‘save’ was when our microwave died. I found a fantastic redneck on YouTube that told me how to fix them, so I took it apart. There were a few things that could be wrong, but first and cheapest was to see if the internal fuse had blown. We went back to the shop we got it from five years ago and asked if they had fuses for that model. We were told that if the fuse had blown, there was something wrong and we should just get a new one. Saaaaay, that reeked of shite to us. “Oh, a fuse in my house blew, I need a new house now!” Feic off. To the Internet we went, and got a fuse from Scotland for about €12 delivered. I popped the old one out, wires and all, put in the new one – and it is still working. A couple of weeks later, the door fell off. I superglued it, it’s still grand. Saved a couple hundred Euros there!

When the dryer broke (also just five years old, are we seeing the planned obsolescence time frame yet?) we took it apart too, but getting a new motor was the same price as a new machine with a warranty, so we had to eat that one. At least we tried.

The fridge is a massive POS, we can’t get replacements for the busted freezer drawers anywhere. I can NOT deal with them, I completely lose my head, patience, and will to live when I need something from the freezer section; so that is iDJ’s job. He whines like a sick dog when his widdle finners get cold, too. Awww. He knows well that cold fingers are preferable to my searing hot rage.

Thanks, punkin’. 😀

I am a thrifty bitch by nature and nurture. When you have more time than money, you teach yourself whole new skills, and new ways of doing things. I make candles out of the crummy ends of ones we bought, I recycle and compost, I’d rather grow from seed than buy a plant. I save every-bloody-thing that might come in use, one day – and I keep a mental catalogue of the crap I have to hand. Just this week, I repainted our styrofoam headstones. These are Halloween decorations that are a few years old and constantly battered by the winds we have this time of year – we find them in the neighbours’ gardens all the time, with chunks missing and the white showing through. Well, hell, that’s not scary!

I’ve been different levels of broke most of my life, but I have a family history of cheap, too. My grandfather used to come to our house on Sundays. He’d be there for lunch and dinner, and drive himself back home. He would eat lunch, and then carefully fold up and pocket the single, non-brand paper napkin Mom had given him. He took it back out and used it again at dinner. Yikes! I really hope I never get that bad.

I wonder if he took it home with him…

Bella has been Brushed!

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I’m having a shitty evening. Financial situation just got even worse. I suppose I could talk about it here, but its too depressing and it will just make me angry having to go over everything in detail. Let’s leave it alone for now, as there is nothing to be done.

Instead, have a gander at the lovely Bella. Bella is a rescue greyhound, and shares her home with a fellow KIBIS member. We hope to have her and my girl Neko become doggie-friends – as soon as we find neutral ground they can run and play in together safely.

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Socks has a sweet pea!

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Ooo, lookit me, blogging on the night of Oirish Tirsday instead of waiting until tomorrow! Socks had stuff to do, and I’m suffering a hangover and wanted an early night, so we only talked on the phone for 2.5 hours. Yes, that’s a short call!

iDJ is still broadcasting his live radio show upstairs, and the floor is shaking, the walls are thumping, and he is singing. Oh dear. Sounds like Testament is on now, so he’s really rocking out!

I had to go up and share the fun, it was indeed Testament, Trial By Fire. Yay! I’m a metalhead, and really like it when he gets in a bit of old school thrash during his show. The next song was Megadeth, Wake Up Dead – oh yah, baby!

Our neighbours must hate us on Thursdays.

Anyhoo, Socks had her first obstetric appointment today! Everything is fine and good and normal, hooray! She is six weeks along, and the due date is June 14. There’s another ultrasound in a week to confirm this, but we’re pretty sure that’s accurate, since every moment has been planned and documented by Mom.

Wow, I got to call her mom! This is so strange and new to me, and I’m not even centre stage here. But I can only write about my reactions, right?

Socks had an ultrasound today, and got to see her baby for the first time. She said her first reaction was “Oh my god, its real!” Baby is TINY, the size of a ‘sweet pea.’ I had to ask for clarification on how big that is – bigger than an orange seed, apparently. BabySox is currently developing a jaw, cheeks, kidneys, and has the barest beginnings of ears, eyes and a nose. Pretty cool, eh?

Socks was so happy to see the living proof, too. So very happy that she got all three doctors in the room excited and happy along with her. Even the student (that she gave permission to attend) told her congratulations. Aw! She really made me giggle when she told me that this tiny dot is the cutest baby ever, with the most beautiful heartbeat! There’s a good mom in the making. It is fascinating to see Socks change the way she thinks and feels so fast. She admits that if you told her a week ago she would think of such a small, unformed thing as beautiful or cute, she’d have laughed you out of the room.

She’s sleeping a lot, and just starting to feel a little whoopsie at times. Oh, the fun is just beginning! I bet she names the toilet, because she’s gonna get so intimate with it they should be on a first-name basis. She’s also craving savoury food and not sweets, and meat more than she normally would. She’s already a fantastically healthy eater, and it will be fun to track cravings. Doritos are apparently off the menu already, and Swedish meatballs are on. For now…

Love you, Sweet Pea! Thanks for bringing me along 🙂