Summer's Good News

Meet Pandora

Her super power? Invisibility.

Can you see her yet?

How about now?

Now disguised as a mild-mannered house cat.

Are you fooled?

Edward and Westley

In January, Westley disappeared. We searched the shelters, the streets, and accosted every white cat in town. We listed ads on Craig's List and in the newspaper. It was heart-rending. The lack of closure, the not knowing, was as painful as the loss of our sweety. Edward, his litter-mate, went into a funk. We cried. But about three months after he left, we accepted his loss. Even Edward accepted it.

Still we longed for closure. Be careful what you long for. We got our closure on June 13th.



After a joyous day of kitty frolicking, Mr. Edward suddenly lost the use of his back legs. He dragged himself home in the dead of night, and our nice neighbor came to tell us he was injured. A quick trip to the vet and one euthanasia later, we knew. Both of our kittens had a heart defect which resulted in deadly blood clots.

It sucked.

But for two baby boys who were found in a field, they had a great life. Their rescuers bottle-fed them, adored them and snuggled them. When we adopted them they gained seven new adoring fans. They had snuggles, warm beds, great food. They had each other. They had such joi de vivre that passersby would stop and watch them. Their sweet lives brightened our pathway awhile.



Adieu, my kitty boys.

Because I'm Spamming Your Blog Reader with Chickens aka More Pictures

The moist guy is third hatched, but I can only tell the first two apart by their voices. Number one is a loud beak!

Number Three Pips

A Chick has Hatched

Don't worry he'll fluff up!

Then it said, "Peep!"

Breaking News!

This is what we are doing RIGHT NOW!

Not Counting Our Chickens Quite Yet

Long, long ago, the La Family had chickens.

Really cute chickens. (The kids aren't too bad either.)

Alpha and Beta are the red ones, the first and second to hatch. (Sadly, Omega the third and last to hatch had an unfortunate incident which prevented him from being photographed.) (Yeah, he died. Let's not discuss it.) My friend gave us Black and Blue. (Guess which set I named and which set the kids named.)

It was a great school project! The kids learned a lot and we had some pretty yummy eggs. We ended up sending our lovely hens to the country to live a happy life, giving eggs to a loving adoptive family. (Go with it, OK?)

ANYHOW...

it's chicken time again.

We've got 42 eggs incubating away. Thirty-four of them came in the mail. We're expecting a pretty low hatch rate for those. They were all brown eggs and Carolina Biological Supply can give us no hint whatsoever as to the breed.

Eight of the chicks have come from a crazy chicken lady across town. Hopefully, those will be Buff Orpingtons. When we candled them last week (peeked at their little shadows with a flashlight) it looked like six of them were developing normally and two were duds. 

(^^ That there purdy bird is a Buff Orpington. ^^)

Hatch day is Thursday. In theory. Assuming we haven't messed up in some fundamental way. (I got really nervous last time too.)

J is designing a movable hen house for the Buffs. In theory. Perhaps if I ask him to create it out Rubik's Cubes he's be more likely to get into it. 

The kids will sell the extras to help fund some of their activities. Assuming there are extras.  I'll keep you posted.

[As an aside, sorry for the disappearing post the other day. I'd said a simple apology and a polite request would remove my grievances from the blog world. The owner of a certain rollerskating rink apologized and said his future coupons would be more specific. And voila, a disgruntled customer is appeased. It's like magic.] 

[If you must know the details, email me and I'll send my copy of the post to you.]

The Baby is Learning English

Her pronunciation leaves a bit to be desired, but Baby C's English is coming along fine. Today as she was laying down for a nap, she quizzed me about her next meal.

"Pizza in the oven? Right now!"

"Sorry, sweetheart."

"Chee-os?"

"Maybe later."

"Kitten nuggets? Peeeease."

"Chicken nuggets?"

Big smile. "KITTEN NUGGETS!"

"Chicken. Say, 'chicken.'"

"Kit-ten," she said slowly, so I wouldn't get confused.

"Um...maybe I'll get some at the store. Chicken nuggets."

"Kitten nuggets!"

"OK, fine. Kitten. I'll see what I can do."

I really hope that things don't turn out looking like this:

You're kidding me!

A tree in my house? AWESOME!

In my Inbox Today

My 14 year old J-Teen received a reminder that his library books are due soon. I wonder what the FBI would make of this list. I can't be the only one who thinks this is an odd combo.

Due Within 5 Days (10)
Library User/Title/Due Date
J-Teen In search of Schrodinger's cat : quantum physics and reality / Mon, Dec 01
J-Teen Time travel in Einstein's universe : the physical possibilities of travel through time / Mon, Dec 01
J-Teen 145 things to be when you grow up / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Calculus / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Developing nations / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Domestic wiretapping / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Endless universe : beyond the Big Bang / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Espionage and intelligence / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen Experiments in space science / Fri, Dec 05
J-Teen The wage gap / Fri, Dec 05

I love the expionage/wiretapping/time travel possiblities. But what's with the cat? And who is Schodinger? Inquiring minds want to know.

Must Share

more animals

Sadly, The Cats are Unable to Join Us in Celebrating International Talk Like a Pirate Day

What do ya do with a drunken kitty? What do ya do with a drunken kitty? What do you do with a drunken kitty earl-i in the mornin'?
Throw him in the brig and fix him! Throw him in the brig and fix him! Throw him in the brig and fix him earl-i in the mornin'!

The Dread Pirate Westley an' his best matey Edward

We wanted t' go sailin' wi' th' other kitties.
Oh t' sail th' high seas wi' th' Black Fur Ball when she sails today!
But, arr, th' fat wench had our balls cut off last high tide'!
Fixin' she calls 't. We'll fix th' lass!
Later.

Fixin'! Arr! That's how 't all started! Firstly, th' tom parts then a leg an' arm.
Ye canna trust the lasses! Or swabbies! Arr!
Ye ugly lousy excuse fer swashbucklers! I be goin' wi' lots o' body parts missin'.
We could break ye ou' o' th' brig, if'n ya wern't lazy, lily-livered cowards!
Ya scallywags who ortin' t' be keel hauled!

On Edward's Rescue

During my blog-cation in late August, one of our kittens went missing. Edward disappeared on a Friday night. The first thing we noticed was Westley meowing inconsolably Saturday morning. It was so unlike them to be separated that we were immediately worried.

The kids and I began knocking doors in the neighborhood by Saturday afternoon. I posted pictures on Craig's List (a shot in the dark since we live in a computer-challenged neighborhood). At the SPCA, we examined all the found cats, the squished cat reports, and filed a lost report.

We drove slowly through the streets after dark, shaking the cat food bag and here-kitty-kitty-ing out the windows of our van. By Sunday, we'd hit the entire neighborhood twice. We attracted much feline and human attention but no Edward.

Tears. Prayers. More here-kitty-kitty-ing. More prayers.

To be honest, by Sunday night, I was really thinking someone had fallen in love with our boy and we would never see him again. I forced the words "thy will be done" out of my unwilling lips and cried again.

Monday morning we got a joyous call from the SPCA. We rushed to the shelter with Westley in tow. Our reunion was celebrated with a quick and inexpensive micro-chipping ceremony, so our boys would have a ticket home should they ever roam again.

Edward had been found five miles from our house, and they immediately recognized him from Craig's List. Apparently, a young skateboarder found him and skateboarded two miles to the SPCA with our kitty in his jacket. We shed more tears and and offered much happier prayers of gratitude for a boy who literally went the extra mile, for the dedicated SPCA staff, and for our God who keeps track of stray kitties.

V & W are right next to each other.

V & Westley

Our House is a Very, Very, Very Fine House...

...with two cats in the yard. And I get to keep them. Hurray! Hurrah! The La household gives an nearly unanimous cheer.

To the ever patient La Man, I love you! The La Kids love you! And just to irritate you, the cats will love you!

This one came with a name—Westley. As you wish...

And we've named this one Edward after The Edward of Twilight fame. (I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of twin puncture marks on my thumb.)
A list for my mom:
Positives

1. They love being touched. (Kid overload occurs, frequently around here.)
2. They are so gentle with the little ones. (A must.)
3. They like outdoors. (Requirement.)
4. Litter box use? Perfect. (Non-negotiable.)
5. And they are young enough to qualify for the super-cheap neuter. (Nice. Very, very nice.)

Negatives:

1. I owe my man a serious concession somewhere down the road.
2. I hate the litter box.

Why, it would appear that the positives outweigh the negatives! Woo-hoo! If I could make my blog do a little happy dance, I would.

Three Miscellaneous Thoughts in No Particular Order

1. I hate my pop-up blocker, but if I don't use it my computer begins chanting dirty limericks at me while chorus lines of leprechauns high kick their way across my screen. Very scary. But it is also very scary that I am developing unsightly muscular bulges in the fingers on my left hand, from having to press Ctrl & Alt to override the stupid pop-up blocker every time I want to make a comment or click a link. So here's a little plea...for the sake of my poor children who have to appear in public with me and my weirdly muscled Pointer and Tall Man, please make it so I can just click on your links and have my browser just magically go there. Pretty please.

2. I brought home two little kitty brothers tonight, because I'm a softy. I'm banking on my husband being a softy too. Not about the kitties (no chance of that), but about the kiddies, begging to keep the kitties. Perhaps I'm being a teensy bit over-optimistic. I hope not.

3. I've made part of my decision about the homeschooling issue. V-Girl and L-Boy will most likely be going to school. My middle school kids, N-Girl and J-Teen, will be homeschooled. E-Teen remains in limbo. Four out of five decisions ain't bad. Especially for indecisive me.

Hey, I promised miscellaneous and I delivered. Impressive, aren't I?

And on a lighter note...

The Hippopotamus

Behold the hippopotamus!
We laugh at how he looks to us,
And yet in moments dank and grim,
I wonder how we look to him.
Peace, peace, thou hippopotamus!
We really look all right to us,
As you no doubt delight the eye
Of other hippopotami.

Ogden Nash

[My older kids and I used to recite this to the hippo at our zoo every time we visited. Great fun! Sadly, our hippo moved away and the younger children have not had similar opportunities.]

A Time to Kill

When V was born, I bought an almond tree and planted it with great care and ceremony in the birth tree spot. The almond tree has flourished and brought forth abundantly.

However, I have yet to eat a single nut from the beloved tree. In it's third year it bore a plentiful crop; the squirrels ate every last one, as they did in the tree's fourth year. They attack before the nuts are ripe enough to harvest. Last year, I decided to tackle the issue early and I picked them all early, before the fuzzy charmers got to them. I laid them neatly out on screens where they rotted. This year the squirrels got them again. Curse their furry little hides!

Wednesday, my husband said, "Look! It's a squirrel!"

"Kill it quick!" I shouted.

"But it's cute and furry. It can be the kids' pet."

"Dude, they are eating my flippin' nuts! They need to die! If they were eating your nuts, you'd want them dead too." (Well, it's true!)

I SO need a magic wand! So I can turn this little bugger:



into this useful kitchen tool:



Lacking magic powers, I may to go for a paradigm shift. (Oh, how wonderful. The squirrels won't go hungry this year!) Yeah, right.

Does anyone know where I can hire a hire a hit on a squirrel?