This was the view from my kitchen window early this morning.
It’s currently 16° with snow falling at the rate of about an inch per hour. And they’re predicting wind gusts up to 40mph for this afternoon.
Winter wonderland my ass. We’re trapped. With three gassy dogs.
I can not even begin to describe the torment that is poison ivy.
They should be using this stuff to interrogate terrorists.
To take my mind off the itching, I ate my way through an entire pan of Ghirardelli Ultimate Chocolate Brownies.
Unfortunately the distraction was only temporary. I’m itching again, and I’ve no doubt gained a pound.
I hate to mix medications, but since this appears to be something that chocolate can’t cure, I think I’m going to spend the afternoon with a bottle of vodka.
It’s bound to work eventually… and with fewer calories.
In case you don’t know what poison ivy looks like, here’s a picture…
Trust me, if you didn’t know what it looked like you need to study this picture.
And if you did know, then you need to pay attention.
I wasn’t paying attention.
I normally don’t pay much attention to the news. I find it’s bad for my digestion. But this week it’s been kind of difficult to ignore the David Carradine story.
And it makes me wonder if I’m the only person on this planet that feels outraged by the media’s handling of his death? IMO, the details weren’t necessary. A simple “died suddenly” would have sufficed.
So despite whatever else he accomplished in his life, he will forever be remembered as the old dude who accidentally killed himself during auto-erotic asphyxiation. WTH. He had family for crissake. Isn’t it bad enough that they’ve lost a loved one? To have the details (and photos) of his death publicized as they’ve been is unconscionable.
No doubt Mr. Carradine would have preferred that his kink be kept private. I’m betting his family would have preferred it that way too. And since there was no threat to national security, I don’t see how the public is entitled to the mental pictures being drawn by the media.
Problem is, these types of “news” stories sell papers and magazines.
I will never understand the public’s obsession with celebrity.
I’ve always had great respect for nature and our planet. I recycle, I repurpose, I don’t use pesticides/insecticides and if I ever caught you littering it would not be pretty. I even practice catch and release. Well…. unless it’s a spider bigger than a daddy-long-legs. Those I leave to Mr. Kewlstuff, who surprisingly enough, is not afraid of them!?! (Personally, I think it’s all just an act, and on the inside he’s really screaming like a girl. Seriously, who’s not afraid of spiders? That’s just not possible.)
Anyway, the point is, I try to tread lightly. Leave a small footprint. Not interfere.
But after this week, I’m rethinking the interfering part.
The bunny story did not end well, although the dogs played no further role in it. Within 36 hrs. I realized the doe was not returning to the nest to feed the babies. By the time I secured the proper replacement formula, including the acidophilus necessary for their digestion, it was too late. Everything I read said DO NOT remove those babies from their nest. I should have followed my gut on this one and removed them immediately.
So, if that wasn’t bad enough…
Ya know, when that Robin decided to build her nest on the porch, my first instinct was to stop her. The Phoebe had seniority. But again, I didn’t want to interfere, and figured that they’d work it out. I thought the Phoebe had accepted the fact that her new neighbor was here to stay. They wouldn’t turn their backs on each other, but they dutifully stayed on their respective nests. Night before last, on my way into bed, I noticed that the Phoebe was not on the nest. After watching her raise eight broods over the last four years I knew she would NEVER have just abandoned it. This wasn’t going to end well either.
We checked the next morning. Two of the three eggs had hatched, but both hatchlings were dead. I suspect the male Robin had something to do with it. He’d been hanging around a lot the past few days, and since he’s three times the size of a Phoebe, I think he strong-armed them into leaving.
Again, had I followed my gut the ending would have been much different.
Yea, I know only the strong survive. blah. blah. blah. But from now on, I’m going to do what I can to make sure that at least some of the weak ones survive too. I prefer happy endings.
Okay, so my posts have been few and far between lately. My day job is in overdrive and it seems I haven’t had a minute to spare for the last couple of weeks.
Of course Murphy’s Law rules my life, so when I haven’t a moment to spare, that’s when everything goes amok.
This week;
1. I skated through dog puke at 5am in my stocking feet.
2. The power goes out for about 45 seconds and *poof*. The client’s file that I was working on just disappears. Yes, I had a back-up. That doesn’t make it any less aggravating.
3. After updating my anti-virus program I’m getting false-positive virus alerts whenever I attempt to do anything within my Word Press dashboard. These alerts require a response each and every time they pop up… making it nearly impossible to navigate in here.
4. In the midst of making my kajillionth pot of coffee a client calls. I proceed to finish setting up the coffee maker whilst finishing our conversation, so my mind isn’t completely on the task at hand. When I return to the kitchen I find coffee every where. The counter, the floor, the cupboards. Every. Where. I forgot to put a filter in the basket. Turns out that without a filter the drain in the basket plugs with freshly ground coffee, so instead of draining into the pot, it has nowhere to go but up and out. Just this week I have made coffee with – a) no coffee b) no water c) no filter. None of these methods turns out well but c) is definitely the biggest PITA.
5. Google took over feedburner behind my back. This means my feed address has changed. I’ve updated the addy and can access my feed in Firefox, but I can not access it through IE. I. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.
Saturday I received the following “important notice of a change in terms” to my Capital One Visa;
“Due to extraordinary changes in the economic environment, we’re reviewing our existing credit card accounts. Having considered these economic conditions, your account’s current Purchase rate, and the length of time you’ve had this rate and account, we will be increasing your Purchase rate to (insert gasp here) 15.9%”
What kinda crap is that? My current rate is 7.41%!
So apparently, to reward me for making ALL of my payments in advance of the due date, for paying the balance when possible….but always more than the minimum each month, for being a responsible Visa card holder….my interest rate will more than DOUBLE!
So, I figure I have three options;
1. Call and refuse the new terms, thereby closing the account, then paying the balance per the terms of the current agreement – even though we all know that closing accounts is not good for the ‘ole FICO score.
2. Pay the card off in its entirety, leaving the account open so as not to impact my FICO – but exposing myself to annual membership fees on a card I vow to never use again.
3. Stop making payments entirely until they’ll renegotiate the terms. Screw the FICO score – it obviously means nothing anyway.
I’m usually a roll-with-the-punches kinda gal. I don’t get riled often. But I am seriously considering option #3. It’s about time consumers stood up for themselves. I’m tired of being taken for some special kind of stupid. I’m tired of what amounts to corporate bondage. I’m tired of being nickeled and dimed to death. And it’s high time the banking industry was held accountable for lending $50,000 a year wage-earners the money to purchase 1/2 million dollar homes.
Dear Crapital One,
I am committed to providing you with honest and open communications.
Please be advised that due to extraordinary changes in my economic environment, I have reviewed my existing Crapital One credit card account. Having considered my economic conditions, my account’s current Purchase rate, and the length of time I’ve had this rate and account, I will be decreasing my Purchase rate to 0%. This change becomes necessary in light of the fact that you have already received $3.56 billion dollars in taxpayer funded bail-out money. Since I am a taxpayer, I have already met my obligation to you. To decline this change, please call 1-800-BITE-ME by 8:00pm ET, April 17, 2009.
Used to be that when you woke up with marker on your face you couldn’t remember where you were the night before.
But I found a few examples of the artistic flair some women have with what appears to be a Sharpie……
Friday night, as I passed the hall window on my way into bed, I spotted a young dog in the yard. Since we live in a semi-rural area, a strange dog in the yard is a rare occurrence. And a strange dog wandering around at 11pm is even rarer.
He had his nose to the ground, sniffing frantically as he ran around……behaviour that would indicate he was lost.
Next thing I know Mr. Kewl Stuff was outside trying to coax the dog to him. He failed miserably and the dog ran off into the bitter-cold and snowy night. Well, he ran as best he could, because every once in awhile the dog stumbled. And that was because the poor thing was dragging a 4 foot length of rope from his collar, which he was stepping on and tripping himself.
I hope the ignorant ass that tied that dog outside spent a sleepless night wondering if he’d gotten that rope tangled in the surrounding brush, leaving him exposed to the elements and possible predators. It would only be fair, since I spent the night worrying about it.
It takes a lot of time, patience and energy to properly train a dog. It’s also necessary that you be smarter than the dog.
My own dogs don’t even wear collars, unless we’re taking them off the property for a walk. They come when they’re called, they know what their boundaries are, they don’t lunge at the door when someone knocks. If we’re outside and someone rides by the house on a bike, they automatically sit……and they stay there until we release them. That wasn’t accomplished by hooking their collar to a line so we didn’t have to step outside when they had to go out.
If you’re tying your dog outside for any reason, you’re too lazy and/or dumb to own a dog. Actually, you don’t deserve to own one and I have just three words for you. Get. A. Cat.
Copy Alerts recently notified me that some of my blog content had been ripped. So naturally, I followed the trail that led me to the offending site. Sure enough, word-for-word, there’s a post of mine. All 466 words. Copied. Verbatim. Well, except for the title, which they changed to The Risks of Tippling Water.
So I join their forum;
and I proceed to leave three comments exposing their thievery. I followed up with an e-mail, giving them notice that I intend to go after their host for copyright infringement if my content isn’t removed.
The next day I received an e-mail from Maura, one of their moderators, informing me that my comments had been rejected. Big surprise there, eh? Seems I hadn’t gone through the proper channel to report the abuse. Apparently I was supposed to contact their “Abuse Protection Team.”
Ironic, isn’t it, that a spam site that’s stealing content would reject comments because the rules weren’t followed.
Whilst I continue with my volley of e-mails with Maura, feel free to use my user name and pw to drop a comment on their forum. Maybe use their “suggestion” option to suggest that they write their own content.
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