It’s been some time since I used a really catchy (read: risque) title. I’m sure Google just downgraded my site and diverted my already slim traffic.
About the title…
As many of you know, Pye doesn’t travel well. You may recall the time she destroyed her brand new (cloth) carrier in a howling fit a few years ago during our return trip from the time she rode in the chassis for 150 miles. Clearly, she doesn’t do many things well like staying put, with the possible exception of eating, shedding and scratching furniture.
When I temporarily relocated in advance the two recent storms, I reluctantly admited the duct tape was no longer a practical solution to the Pye-shaped holes in the once-new-and-still-hardly-used cat carrier. With plans for an upcoming trip to Tennessee, Oklahoma, Texas, and Louisiana (the trip never happened, but that’s a boring story), I decided to upgrade to a metal, Pye-proof cat carrier.
“I’m trading you two in for good kids,” my dad bellowed to Chickenbone and I one summer day long ago after we’d been acting up.
After our parents divorced, Chickenbone and I spent summers at my father’s house in Carlsbad, California. We were generally allowed to run amok during the day while he was at work, or sometimes we would spend days at our grandparents house nearby. We loved the freedom, but we also got bored after a while.
We were shocked. “Trade us in? What do you mean?”, one of us asked.
“I’m trading you two in. As soon as the catalog comes in the mail, I’m going to trade you two in for good kids.”
Another one of those anniversaries of my birthday is approaching. I’ve celebrated a few anniversaries of my 27th birthday, and even anniversaries of my 29th, but that may have to change.
Old house in Texas. I love photographing old, abandoned barns and houses.
I don’t feel (or generally act) my age and I prefer it that way. Life is what you make it, and I’m making mine young and fun as long as I can. In fact, after interviewing the centenarian a couple months ago and seeing the high percentage of centenarians in this area, I realize I may very well still be in my youthful “prime,” relatively speaking.
But then I find some jerk standing on my lawn.
I have a fenced yard. A clearly fenced yard. There is NO mistaking the fence. It has lights so it can be seen at night. Nevertheless, some fool But, wait! There’s more…
Pye is unpredictable, as you all know: she pees in the box, she pees on the chair; she snuggles, she runs away from home; she licks me, she bites me. I know the peeing is purely behavioral: she gets mad if I start the RV, or leave her locked in when she doesn’t want to be. But I can’t figure out what triggers the rest of the sudden changes in behavior. At the moment, she’s on a cuddley streak, after being on a 3-day “I’m wild and don’t know you unless I’m hungry” streak.
The latter started shortly after I gave her flea medicine on the back of her neck.
She appears to have an allergic reaction to the flea drops at the treatment site; she scratches at the spot for a day or two. But after this latest application, I’ve began to suspect the allergic reaction goes deeper than just a bit of itching. This was the first time I noticed a change in her mental behavior for several days after the flea medicine was administered.
This sure would explain a lot about her unpredictable behavior. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much about this kind of side effect on the internet. Have any of you ever experienced a change in behavior with your dog or cat after administering flea drops?
Why is it when some people have an issue, rather than discuss it like a rational human being they decide to lash out? *sigh*
Or even worse, they assume something completely moronic and then lash out like they know everything? And why is it some people run the minute there is any conflict? How can you get to be that old and not have learned SOME communication skills??
But never mind this for now, I really don’t care. Instead I will try to live by this message from Joel Osteen (posted on Facebook, thanks to reader Greg V.):
“What would this world be like if instead of judging people we would start loving people? So they don’t look like you, they don’t dress like you, they don’t raise their children like you, they’re not supposed to. God made us all different. Maybe they’re not making good decisions right now. That’s okay, show them mercy. They’re still on their journey.”
Well, I just wish some people would hurry the heck up and get there. *big sigh*
I do have some funny stuff from around the web to amuse you, mostly brought to you by a couple of my readers. Yes, I’m phoning it in.
Here is a fun one: Toilets of the World Quiz(thanks to reader Fumiko G.). They show you a picture of a bathroom, and give you a choice of three cities. I got 6/10. If you play, come back and post your scores in the comments.
I know how much you all love my poetry, since Train and Tumbleweed got such rave reviews… (<—dripping with sarcasm), so I wrote another poem for you. This is what happened the other night to my neighbor’s awning during another huge storm in Texas.
Ode To An Awning
A fine product by Dometic,
All shiny and new,
It blocked out the sun,
Providing shade for a few.
Holding twinkling lights
And wind chimes by the ton,
It was a silent witness
To all sorts of RV fun.
One stormy night while doing its best,
My neighbor arrived home only to see,
His awning lay in a crumpled mess.
Mother Nature won against the Dometic A&E.
Twisted metal and canvas covered the side of his rig,
His poor dog trapped inside had started to wig.
What’s left of the Dometic A&E. Do you think you could cut straighter in a thunder storm? I don’t think so.
I’m at the Sioux Falls airport checking in for my return flight to Austin (via snowy Denver).
At the security check point I put all my stuff on the conveyer belt and turn around to go through the metal detector. But there is no metal detector. In its place is something I’ve never seen…
It’s a big, cylindrical glass container, with the outline of a pair of foot prints on the small carpet at the bottom. It’s one of those new-fangled x-ray screening machines.
Oh. Hell. NO.
I stop dead in my tracks a few feet from the entrance and ask “What IS that?!” just as realization begins to dawn on me. Now I begin to back up, hands in the air, as the TSA agent calmly tries to explain how benign the monster device is.
I don’t hear a word she says other than “You don’t need to back up.”
The hell I don’t.
I’m looking again at the footprints on the small carpet inside the big, glass screening machine. I wonder to myself if those are what was left of the last guy’s ashes when the “screening” was over.
Perhaps not so oddly, the movie Soylent Green suddenly pops into my head.
Me, shaking my head: “Uh-uh. I know what that thing is. Can’t I just get wanded or something?”
(…and there’s a title which Google will never serve up in a search)
Or it keeps the blues away. I don’t know. I can’t be expected to remember these things. It’s all I can do to remember what I had for breakfast this morning. (Go on, take a moment… can you remember what you had for breakfast? I rest my case. Probably. Maybe. Oh, never mind.)
The small town of Bastrop, Texas, population around 7,300, is thirty miles southeast of Austin. Sadly, it is apparently most known for a huge forest fire that happened over a year and a half ago. The fire devastated the area and the beautiful pine trees that are rare in this part of Texas. Every time I mention Bastrop the other person in the conversation always mentions the terrible fire. Poor Bastrop may never live down that fire.
Much of the land remains just as it was after the fire was extinguished over a month later, charred and barren. I’m not sure why they haven’t been able to clear the land and restore many of the homes. The drought may not have helped because the burned area is devoid of any emerging greenery.
But Bastrop and the surrounding area is smiling about something. It seems they are all about the smiley face water tower.
This water tower kind of reminds me of a smiley Stay Puft marshmallow.
By now you’re all aware of The Great RV Roll-about.
Maybe more so than you’d like.
Hey, it could be worse – this could be another post about my cat.
For those of you living vicariously through my experiences, I thought you’d like a few t-shirts and bumper stickers from places you haven’t yet been.
If you have a shirt that says “I stood on the corner in Winslow, Arizona” or a bumper sticker that says “I’ve been to Purgatory and back… Purgatory Correctional Facility, Utah” people will think you’ve been there.
And that you’re cool. Naturally.
No need to tell them you haven’t been.
Or, if you have been there, now you can get the shirt you forgot to buy.
Texas is the land of ‘y’all’. I’d like to think I fit in when it comes to use of the local colloquialism, but I know I don’t because everyone still refers to me as “the California gal”.
A while back I wrote a post about a few of the colloquialisms found around the country, We Say Dude In These Here Parts. It was prompted by both my fascination with local colloquialisms and a friend visiting California from Meeneesooota.
Words you’ll need to know when coming to Texas.
‘Y’all’ is a conjunction of “you all”. Not usually said to an individual unless referring to that person’s family (who may not be present at the moment).
‘All y’all’ is the plural of the above.
Whataburger is a very popular fast food restaurant here in Texas. Regardless of how the word looks, it is pronounced – very quickly – ‘Waterbuger’. It took me a month to figure out what they were talking about.
Beall’s a department store, like a cross between Kohl’s and Macy’s, is pronounced ‘Bell’s’. The “a” is ignored.