Monday, May 30, 2011

Memorial Day-2011

May thier sacrifice never be forgotten.

A warm welcome and yodel to Negerigeletschtempoit!

Friday, May 27, 2011

Word of Mouth-Stray

Time again for more Word of Mouth about a paranormal romance novel called Stray by Rachel Vincent.

Let me tell you folks I`ve read lots of Para/Roms over my fifty years. Many tend to fall to the wayside, being good books but nothing that makes you run out to get the follow-up novel. Stray is not one of those soon-to-be-forgotten books and yes, I`ll be calling upon my lovely LBS owner very soon to get the other novels in the Shifter series-Rogue, Pride, Prey, Shift and Alpha.

Stray is actually a few years old and I`m sorry I didn`t catch it when it debuted! It centers on a young college woman Faythe Sanders, a werecat (Yup, her and her pride turn into large cats as opposed to wolves) and one of only eight breeding females left. Faythe is your typical rebellious youth, running away numerous times from the pressures of what she thinks her father, and Alpha of her pride, demands of her-Marriage and babies.

When she runs into a stray ( werecats with no pride that are constantly on the lookout for an attractive fertile female) on her college campus she successfully fends him off, then turns to find Marc, an enforcer for her father and the man she had a very passionate relationship with back before she set out to live her own life. Seems dad has been keeping a very close eye on his daughter even though she has left the ranch. That one brush with danger is all that`s needed for her Pride to call her back home for her own protection. Faythe then learns that two of her fellow werecat tabbies (males are toms and females are tabbies) have disappeared.

From then on it`s a compelling and no holds barred read that keeps you turning page after page to find out who and why these women are being abducted. I fell in love with the character of Faythe right off the bat. She is full of sass, grit and this lady has claws and knows how to use them! She does break a few hearts along the way but being born to rule you have to expect that, and some rule breaking as well! The romance between Faythe and Marc is touching, erotic, painful and joyful. The action throughout the book runs full bore, and the sex scenes are have real bite. Pun painfully intended.

The story is told in first-person and really gets us into Faythe`s head and heart and Ms. Vincent does a wonderful job of conveying the secondary characters emotions, something sometimes lacking in some first-person novels. Ms. Vincent has a very strong voice that is dark, charming and evocative and gives us characters that we grow to genuinely care about. I`m looking forward to picking up the rest of the books and getting to see where Ms. Vincent and Faythe take me!


On a side note,it seems Blogger and I are having some problems with comments. I can`t leave comments in my blog or anyone else`s. Please know that I am reading along with everyone and hopefully this situation should be taken care of soon.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Last Night In Bed.....

…..Mister Slurpee struck again!

Yes that darn beagle was-Oh wait, you guys were thinking---Such naughty minds you have. I`d TSK everyone but since my mind has been in the gutter since the summer of `75 it might come off as hypocritical. It all started with Gene Simmons and-Perhaps that`s best left for another time. Since I already slipped from G into PG I have to try to behave. Key word-Try!

Ahem, yes where was I? Oh yes the return of Mister Slurpee. Now to see him he may not seem to be anything but a sweet little beagle, all sad hound eyes and innocence oozing from his doggy pores. I mean, look at this face—

Could something that darling do something to earn such a foul moniker? Oh yes he can, has and did. For some reason unbeknownst to me or my husband Tinker sleeps with us on the bed. Why he cannot sleep with Miss Yodeling, who has only one human in her bed, I cannot say. Perhaps Mister and I are just so much cozier?? Whatever his reasoning Tinker is always in our bed as soon as we place our rumps to it and sometimes even before. I`ll not get into the bad habit he has of wadding up ONLY Mister`s pillow to sleep on (Try finding to locate a dog hair in your husband`s ear canal for some real marital fun!) or the fact that Tinker seems to be made of Flubber, whereas you nudge him to the floor and he bounces back immediately.

I won`t mention any of those things because I already did it seems. I can deal with the dog hair in my husband`s inner ear and the boinging beagle. What I can`t seem to handle as I`m trying to go to sleep is his obsessive habit of foot slurping. That sound seems to just whittle down my brain until all I can hear is dog chewing foot. Slurp-Slurp-Slurp-Slurp-Slurp-Slurp-Slurp…..Oy!

Last night my hubby was sound asleep when I crept back to bed. Once I got all situated and comfy Tinker flubbered from the floor and deposited his beagleness against my lower lumbar. No problems I thought, I`d rather have him at my back then by my legs. Then the slurping began accompanied by the bed wiggles when he really gets into it. Now generally when our bed wiggles I don`t complain. Feral! Behave yourself! Geez I`ll be into an R rating faster than a three-legged cow running downhill if I don`t watch myself!

I laid there for about three minutes then sat up and hissed at the dog to stop. The slurping and wiggling stopped. I sniffed and lay back down. Mister muttered something about long-beards or Winnebago`s then resumed his soft snoring. I had this fine line of dialog running through my mind as I awaited Morpheus then it started again. Another couple of minutes passed with slurping and wiggling that was not entertaining for me in any capacity and I sat up once more and hissed louder. I also threw in a finger wag to drive home my point to the hound with the foot fetish. When all was quiet I dropped back down with flair and tried to relocate that dialog from a few minutes ago.

The third round of wiggling and slurping was enough. I bolted upright like Zeus had prodded me with a bolt of lightning.

“Tinker, stop chewing on your rassafrassin` feet!” I shouted. Mister jerked awake instantly.

“What the rassafrassin` is going on?” he mumbled with a mere tint of aggravation. (Mere tint and rassafrassin` are artistically licensed and do not reflect the actual words or amount of exasperation.)

“Oh that dog was chewing on his feet again!” I huffed and flopped back to my pillow.

“Think you can scold him a little more quietly?”Mister asked and rolled over with attitude.

“I think I can stop at Rockwell`s (A pet and farm supply store in our local town of Wellsboro) and get me a bottle of Bitter Apple come Friday,” I replied and hoped both man and dog heard my dire warning. Not that Mister would mind me buying Bitter Apple of course but I figured one warning shot for both males in the bed should work to take the sass out of both of them.

It must have worked because I didn`t hear a peep from either my husband or Mister Slurpee afterwards. Isn`t it odd what strange habits dogs get into? My mother-in-law used to have this little dog named Penny that was a foot chewer. Personally Tinker is my first dog with this compulsive tic and for the life of me I don`t know what makes him gnaw on his own toes! He has calluses on the top of his front paws from this rather annoying, and damp, habit. So come Friday Feral will be grabbing a bottle of Bitter Apple when she is uptown. Does anyone else have a dog with this peculiar foible? Any suggestions on how to cure it aside from canine counseling?

I do know that tonight when I lay down the bed had better not be wiggling….at least from a dog masticating upon his digits that is! *Waggles brow*

A big yodel of welcome goes out to Matthew H. Davidson. Welcome to the hillside farm!

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

One Liners-5/24

'Mom! I got a surprise for you!!'

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Sunday Night Wrap-Up

Evening all, tug out a chair and I`ll top off our cups!

What a weekend it`s been here on the hillside farm. It started out Friday morning with so much rain they cancelled school due to flooding. Sadly that same flooding also washed out the ZZ Top/ Lynyrd Skynyrd concert we were going to go see. It has been rescheduled for July 31st and they`re honoring the tickets so we`ll see get to see those southern bad-boys, just won`t be for a few months.

Since Miss Yodeling was home I had some grocery shopping help and turkey carrying help as well! Our meat turkeys that Mister had ordered had arrived, so she and I stopped in to get them after our food shopping was done. We got five bronze and one white broad-breasted. Cuter than darn bugs they are!

This little guy was caught in a spit and drum already! He be a big man indeed!

Trinity had to give the snoodle-birds a check when she and I were doing chores. Wonder what she was thinking??

After Mister got home we decided to go see Pirates of the Caribbean Friday night, since the concert was washed-out. I really enjoyed the movie! Captain Jack is always fun, at least I think so.

Saturday morning the sun finally decided to shine down upon us. We did some last minute goose repairs to the electric fence around our small front pasture then let the herd out. Oh, goose repairs you may be asking? That`s when the ganders get to flacking and flapping each other so hard they roll arse over tin cups down the hill into the fence and knock the plastic rods aside.

We like to get the kids into electric for a week before we move them from their mothers. So next week I`ll finally have some fresh goat milk to drink! *Does goatherder clog dance of happiness*Seems it takes each kid a time or two of touching that fence then they learn the lesson and don`t forget it.

Hawke!!! You`re getting too close!!I can`t look, tell me if you hear a goat blat.

After the fence fixing and kid lessons Mister decided to try to mow the bog that is our front yard. Poe stood up where it was dry and supervised. I stood on the porch and supervised. Mister was well supervised wasn`t he?

I got a chance to snap a couple of shots of this helicopter and it`s cargo Saturday afternoon. This whirly-bird has been flying over our heads for days and is part of the natural gas mining that is going on all over our county. Mister thinks that the cargo may be cables used in seismic testing that`s been done.

Sunday morning at seven we were out and down in the cow pasture, Mister`s long-time worry finally about to come to an end. This old half-dead poplar tree has been bothering him for a few years. It sits right next to the road for one worry. The other being that if it came down when Patty was in there it would take the fence and there would be our Hereford standing in the road! I was the traffic controller and he was the lumberjack. I was pretty anxious. Anytime he gets under a tree with a widow-maker in it I get worried.

Here he is snugging a chain around the poplar so that he can get some pull on it with the tractor.

We really didn`t want to drop it on the fence and road if we could help it. The cables and chains should help pull it down into the pasture.

Now the traffic controller really needs to pay attention and stop snapping pictures, before that poplar falls on her head or a car runs into her rump!

TIMBER! And down she lays, right where he wanted her to fall!

After the tree job I got the bedding washed and did a small bit of whittling on a fiction tale. Dinner rolled around and we tossed some hot dogs on the grill and my mother-in-law brought us a rhubarb cake and some of her famous potato salad! Now it`s time to sit back and sip on a fresh cuppa!

How was your weekend??

Friday, May 20, 2011

The Promised Ramble About Napping and a Moose

This notion came to me the other day when I was doing the lunch dishes. I was standing at the sink, bubbles up to my elbows, staring out the little window and my mind wandered. It does that when I`m bored. Hell it does that when I`m not bored too, but this time I was bored. As I was running my wash cloth in and out of coffee mugs I thought-

‘Man I could use a nap.’

It hit me a minute or two afterwards, when I stopped yawning, that I can`t recall being so desirous of a nap when I was younger. I recall very clearly being knee-high to a grasshopper and snickering at one of my great aunt`s. Aunt Jo-Jo was a real corker let me tell you! This was the woman, who at well over age eighty, would stand on her sidewalk out in Clairton ( A small suburb of Pittsburgh) hike up her pant-leg and shake her bared ankle at passing tractor trailers. Oh she would laugh when the truckers would trundle past and toot their horns at her. My mother and I thought this was hysterical. My grandmother, who lived right next door to her sister, couldn`t seem to find the humor in it.

Any doodles, Aunt Jo-Jo was a firm believer in taking a beauty nap daily. She would patter out into the kitchen when we would be over visiting, her dachshund in her arms and announce to us ‘See you in an hour. I`m off for my beauty sleep’ and upstairs she would go to grab an hour. Now of course I was just a youngster and couldn`t imagine why anyone would want to lay down during the day and sleep! It seemed almost sacrilegious to my childish mind. They`d have to tie me down to my bed to make me nap when I was younger and filled with energy.

Of course I did see that napping must have been a genetic family trait when my mother began to enjoy her naps as well. When I was a teenager and my younger brother was maybe ten or twelve, we`d come inside bubbling over with that youthful glow and vibrancy to find my mom snoozing away in her favorite ladies rocker. Then we would get into mischief. I don`t know if y`all remember back in the day when fake feathered birds were all the rage? Maybe it was just my mother but she always had these small fake birds stuck everywhere. Some looked like miniature cardinals, some resembled yellow finches and some looked like indigo buntings. All were very bright and very fake. I used to ask my mother –

‘Why can`t we have a real bird?’

I mean the house was filled with little fake feathered birds so it seemed to me that she liked birds.

‘Real birds poop all over the place,’ was her standard reply.

And yeah, they do poop I had to give her that. I`ve yet to find a critter that doesn`t poop and trust me I have looked for one! I`m pretty sure now that I`m all classic and a mom and such that what she meant was-

‘Real birds poop all over and I`d be the one that would have to clean up after it.’

Where was I? Oh yeah, my mother and her naps. My mom, who was a lovely blond, had this hair-do back in the day that required weekly trips to the nearest beauty parlor for maintenance. Maybe some of you can remember those teased and lacquered types of do`s. It would take a good two hours to get it teased and sprayed and glued and stuck into place upon her head. You could stand my mother out in a hurricane and her hair wouldn`t move but Lord forbid you would open a car window too far!

‘Put that window up! You`ll blow my hair!’

We kids would shrug and roll the windows up and swelter but her hair didn`t get blowed by gosh! And don`t even think of splashing in the pool when Mom was in it! She didn`t swim she merely waded about, her arms out of the water and her hands on each side of her glorious bee-hive to ensure no moisture touched her tresses. Of course all that hairspray and lacquer seemed to attract the bees…well it WAS a bee-hive my grandfather would chuckle when she would dash from the pool, bees following in her wake in hot pursuit.

So, my mother would nod off and my brother and I would find things to stick into her bee-hive hair-do while she slept. A favorite item seemed to be all those fake feathered birds for some odd reason. Oh we would titter and tee-hee while we snuck each bunting and finch and cardinal gently into her mound of cemented curls.

Then we would wake her up and run like hell.

I guess we whippersnappers thought that if you`re old and take naps then you deserve to wake up with a forest of fake birds in your bee-hive. Now though….

(See I got you guys back to the original topic didn`t I? Sometimes I may drive us all the way to Saskatchewan and have to stop to ask a moose directions home but I do get us back to the point eventually.)

Now though I find myself thinking of napping more and more often. It seems that this nap attack hits about one o`clock in the afternoon. I`ve done my writing for the day, had my lunch and contemplated housework. I`ll juggle the housework VS nap for a few minutes then say to myself that I`ll just sit down to read. Apparently my brain thinks that reading should lead to sleeping. There I`ll sit and before I know it I`ve read the same line several times. Usually this occurs when it`s just me and the dogs during the week. Sometimes though my nap attack hits on the weekends when I`m not even reading! I`ve been known to be sitting back in Miss Yodeling`s room playing a video game with her and drop off, controller in hand.

‘Mom, would you wake up!’

I`ll start and jerk awake only to find we`ve been eaten by a dragon while I was napping. Oh the looks I get from my very vibrant and energy-filled teenager! So far, thankfully, she hasn`t decided to stick fake feathered birds in my hair but I bet she thinks real hard on it. Oh well, must be our minds just require an extra hour of midday sleep when we creep into our fifties. Or maybe it`s just that we have reached that stage in life that when we`re tired we don`t fight it and just go grab some beauty sleep. Speaking of napping, I think I`ll just mosey off and read for a spell. *Winks*

Someone take that moose back to Canada would you while I read? He`s pooping all over.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

I`ve Been Up The Coconut Tree

Now before y`all run off to call the men with the big nets and the coats with real long sleeves let me explain.

I know that here in the mountains of Pennsylvania we`re pretty short on coconut trees. Leastways I`ve never seen any. And I know you guys are wondering how Feral could be up in a coconut tree if there aren`t any coconut trees in her home state. Did she go on vacation you may be wondering? Is she right now on some white beach, sipping a fruity drink while a handsome young man that resembles Ryan Reynolds sans shirt waits on her hand and foot and rubs mango scented oil into her weary feet? Sadly, no, although that scenario is a constant one running around my head!

Being up in the coconut tree is a saying that a dear friend of mine Houndstooth over at Tails & Tales blog used to toss out on occasion. She and I would be chatting on the computer and another of our writing buddies would log in and then he would up and disappear. After an hour or so would go by I would ask if he maybe got abducted by aliens or maybe taken hostage by pirates. She would say he was probably up in his coconut tree writing.

So yes, that`s where I`ve been for the past few days, up in my coconut tree with my trusty Dell laptop writing. I had all good intentions of posting up a story on Monday, well actually it`s a ramble about napping and a moose (Don`t ask) but I decided to save that one for later in the week. Today seemed like a good day to chat about climbing into the tree. Maybe it was because it`s raining here or maybe the mood seemed to be better for this post. Hard to say actually because when the muse speaks we must heed her words! That is one thing I`ve learned about writing. If I`m in the mood for something it will flow from my fingers onto the Word page but if I am not, there I sit, staring at that blank page for hours and hours. It is very frustrating to say the least!

That`s part of the whole mystique of writing I think, at least for me. See as we all know Mister was home for two weeks of vacation. I love having him home but my writing takes a hit when he`s buzzing around all day. I can`t write with distractions. Actually I was amazed I got my book review done and posted on Saturday! I knew I needed to get something written for the blog but farm life has been kind of humdrum lately so there wasn`t much there. If I don`t get back here every other day I start to feel badly about it. So I had warm and wonderful intentions of sitting my rump down on Monday and doing a blog post. Well, you know that road to the real warm place is paved with good intentions!

Instead of my muse directing my fingers to a fun little story about sleeping during the day it led me to my novel in progress. This muse of mine, I like to call her Wilhelmina because it fits her for some odd reason, is a very retentive muse with very sharp teeth. Great, my muse is a piranha with a Germanic moniker. Why that does not shock me is anyone`s guess. Anydoodles, Wilhelmina has had her pointy little choppers in this idea I had for this year’s Na-No-Wri-Mo and she will not let loose! She is tenacious this muse of mine! That`s another amazing thing about being a writer, how you can be suddenly overcome with this frenzy and you cannot shake its grip! It`s like being wrapped in a fiery swirling dervish of words and thoughts and you must-YOU MUST- get them onto paper!

Wilhelmina has been waking me up at night with ideas. That gets a bit old at times folks let me tell you. I mean, a dog with the runs getting you up is one thing but a muse with a line of dialog shaking you awake at 2 AM is a bit much. And yet, when that muse speaks, we humble scribes must listen. I have kicked out over fourteen thousand words for this romantic-comedy in two weeks and still the story calls to me. A siren song that will once again lure me from the duties of housework. Okay, I`ll admit one note can lure me from the drudgery of housework but the point remains.

This little nugget of an idea has just exploded into something that I am merely along for the ride with. I pray that my muse continues to speak to me, even if it is during the night, because I think this story has potential. Will it ever get published if I finish it? I can`t say. I do plan to submit it to a recommended publisher but if that angle doesn`t pan out maybe I`ll self-publish. Or maybe Wilhelmina and I will just sit back after I write the words ‘The End’ and toast each other with a cocktail served in a fuzzy coconut shell decanter.

Whatever the ending, if anyone is looking for me and can`t find me, just direct them to the nearest coconut tree and tell them to look up.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Word of Mouth-The Parasol Protectorate

Morning all, drop down and take a load off and we`ll jaw for a bit.

Y`all know, if you peek at my sidebar, that I`m an avid reader. I always have been it seems but since I`ve chosen to run with the title of writer I seem to be devouring books much faster. They say to be a writer you have to be a reader. Also, since my daughter is older now I find I have more time to spend with my nose buried in a book. Most of my reads are paranormal romances. What draws me so to this genre I can`t say precisely, but nine times out of ten the book my nose is buried in will be a Para/Rom. Something about vampires, succubae and werewolves appeals to me….

Oh yeah, now I remember what`s so damned appealing about the genre! Anydoodles, since I spend so much time reading I thought that I`d pass along my thoughts and opinions on the books I read. Now first off we all know that opinions are like-Well we know what they`re like and we all have one. This is just my feelings on a book. Others may feel different and that`s groovy! Since I like to jabber I figured word of mouth suits the posts that`ll deal with whatever book or series I`d like to share so others can read them and enjoy them as well if they wish.

Just yesterday I finished the third book in ‘The Parasol Protectorate’ series penned by the adorable and witty Gail Carriger.

The books are in sequence-Soulless, Changeless and Blameless. Let me give you a tidbit from the author`s profile inside these delightful books.

‘Gail Carriger writes to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small town life for Europe and inadvertently acquired an education. She now resides in the colonies with a harem of Aremenian lovers and tea imported from London.’

That kind of wit runs wild throughout her books! Her lead character, Alexia Tarabotti is a woman with a jacked-up parasol and a wonderfully bright and scathing mind to match. Since the series takes place in an era when women wore gowns, gloves, bustles and filly hats and aspired to be nothing more than wives Alexia, with her rather large nose and bosom and her *Gasp* Italian ancestry, have already been shelved and termed a spinster at the advanced age of twenty-six. Ah but Miss Tarabotti does not remain on that shelf long! For she ends up in a very passionate relationship with Lord Conall Maccon, a Scots werewolf that has taken over the Alpha rank of the Woolsey Pack in London after leaving his homeland.

I won`t divulge too much but the very fact that Alexia who is a preternatural, meaning her touch steals the powers from any supernatural being, (Werewolves revert back to human, vampires lose their fangs and their strength and speed, as long as Alexia is in contact with them that is) is canoodling with a werewolf just adds to the mirth! Ms. Carriger creates wonderfully fun and vivacious characters starting with the protagonist and moving through the secondary characters. I fell in love with Lord Akeldama in the first book! Imagine a foppish vampire with a manse filled with gaudy, handsome popinjays eager to serve his Lordship! Alexia`s family and friends are a glorious pleasure for any reader and their quirkiness adds layers to the stories.

The perfect mixture of romance, mystery, action, adventure and steampunk carried me from book one through book three in two weeks! I only have one small complaint about the books though. Although we do have some warm scenes with Alexia and Lord Maccon they don`t go far enough for my tastes. Feral prefers to have steam erupt from her ears and pages ignite when she reads sex scenes. The romance scenes so far tend to reach the ‘Ho-Boy-Here-We-Go!’ stage then discreetly evaporate, only to pick up after the serious canoodling is over. Now y`all might not mind that but for me, if she gave us a hotter time in the bedroom I wouldn`t complain!

Aside from that glitch in the erotic department this series is a fun-filled character driven romp that I hope others will enjoy as much as I have. So there you go, some word of mouth about a trio of books that should have the fourth installment titled ‘Heartless’ coming out in July of this year. Thanks to Kasey Cox, owner of my much loved local bookstore for suggesting Ms. Carriger`s work to me! I`ll definitely be picking up ‘Heartless’ when it arrives in Wellsboro and more I`m sure, can`t leave that store with only one book for some reason!

Ain`t this word of mouth stuff fun?!

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Feral Ponders-Men, Phones & Bathrooms

Good Tuesday gang! Tug out a chair and have I`ll top off your mug.

I`ve been pondering over the past several days about men.

Now let me say right off the bat that this isn`t a slam post. I adore men. They are a wonderful gender. Strong and sweet, funny and witty, tender when needed and very, very nice to curl up with at night. Note that I did not get into the other REALLY fun thing that I like about men. Since my G rating fled the coop with the tooshy-rubbing incident I`m going to try to keep things at PG-13. Yeah, I have my doubts too but I`ll try said the writer with the Greek god rump obsession.

So as you can see I really like men. I adore my husband. He is loving and dependable. He is a good man. Mister goes to work; works damned hard to support us and comes home with his paycheck. He isn`t out drinking his wages or spending them on bar flies or any of the other rancid things that some men do, as I said he is a good man, a good husband and a good father. It`s just that sometimes the oddness of the male gender reaches out and tickles my mind. Since my darling spouse is now in the second week of his vacation the tickling is coming more frequently. No, not THAT kind of tickling although having the house to ourselves all day is-Damn, I almost stepped into an R rating. Phew!

I`ve noticed some things that occur with men, or perhaps it’s my man, that make me chuckle or snarl, depending on what has occurred. I`ll only touch on two of the many, many things that make me scratch my head about men, and they revolve around telephones and bathrooms. We`ll hit the phone one first and leave the bathroom for later.

Normally my phone is pretty quiet during the day. My goat girlfriends have chores, kids and more chores so we don`t have time to sit and jaw daily. When we do get time we chatter for quite a spell but it`s not a daily or even weekly thing. When we find time we call and cluck for a bit. Other than that and the always present telemarketers my phone sits silently awaiting use. Since Mister has been home I have noticed a large rise in phone calls. This tickles me. Why you may ask? Well, it has reached my ears on more than one occasion that men tend to think we women talk a lot. We do, granted. But to hear men say it you would think they never talk and only reply in single grunts much like Tim Allen or some slope-headed caveman. Men talk too. They talk A LOT and it`s always about the same thing!

I`ll give y`all an example.

Last week Mister returned from his daily trip into the wood to track down his second turkey. He likes to relay his adventures to me upon his return. I enjoy hearing his tales for he really does have the gift of storytelling. After we had lunch I decided to do what I tend to do after lunch. No, not housework for heaven’s sake! I grabbed my latest Para/Rom selection and curled up on the couch with a fresh cup of heavenly bean juice. Of course reading seems to induce some sort of narcoleptic response for me. No sooner do I sit down and get a page read then my eyes are fighting to stay open. Usually I close my book and let sleep take me away. Napping is good for the soul and my old bones appreciate forty winks in the afternoon. I had just drifted off and the phone quacked. Oh, let me explain real fast. Our cordless has wild animal calls as opposed to a ring. Gobbles, quacks, coyote howls, bear roars. It amuses me to hear a loon or an owl calling me to the phone.

Anydoodles Mister gets up and answers the quack. It`s one of his buddies. Ah, I thought as my lashes dropped back down, time to swap turkey tales. They swapped alright! For about an hour easily, each man retelling what had happened to him that day. Then, after that call ended and I assumed my nap would begin again (I can`t sleep with someone talking five feet away) the phone rang once more. Yup, another buddy calling to swap stories was on the horn. I sniffed as I heard the same tale for the third time within two hours. And men say we women talk a lot! That tickles me! I also just wanted to toss this out about men and phones. Why is it that some men cannot leave messages on answering machines? Are they afraid that if they leave their voice on a tape it will suck out their soul or leave them impotent? I`d go with the second fear too ladies. Nothing on this earth would be more ghastly than plumbing that didn`t rise to the occasion! Did that just bump me into R??? I`ll leave that then before the censors arrive and delve into men and the bathroom.

Now I know you`re going to assume that I`m going to talk about what condition they leave the bathroom. I am not. Nor am I going to touch upon the fear of replacing an empty roll of toilet paper. Again, the impotency phobia must also be linked to doing anything that may be considered women`s work. I won`t even delve into how the bathroom is the only room my husband will read in, although his reading does sort of meld into this ticklish ponderment about the bathroom and the male species.

I have heard men comment that we ladies take FOREVER in the bathroom. Personally I don`t see this as being the case. When I have to go potty I`m in and out despite having to replace the roll, I have things to do! Writing about Greek god bottoms is more important than dawdling in the bathroom thank you very much! Miss Yodeling does spend a goodly amount of time in the bathroom before heading to school. Make-up and hair and earring selection take time. Even so, the twenty minutes she spends in there cannot possibly add up to the amount of time Mister spends in there. I cannot recall EVER staggering out forty minutes later and commenting that I sat so long my legs went numb. If I sat for that long in one spot I`d be asleep and wouldn`t that be a sight? Feral nodding off and rolling from the can, empty roll in hand and cracking her coconut on the bathtub! There I would lie until someone needed to read or find different earrings to match the seventh outfit of the day.

It just amuses me how men seem to say these things about us women yet they do and usually exceed at what they are griping about! Ah I do love men despite their quirks and foibles and their aversion to cardboard rolls and answering machines. If nothing else men do seem to give us women plenty to ponder on don`t they?

Sunday, May 8, 2011

What a wonderful weekend for a geeky goatherding Mom!

First off I`d like to wish all you mothers out there a very happy Mother`s Day!

Here on the hillside farm my special weekend was terrific indeed, as was it for my goat moms as well. Friday afternoon we had a lovely day brewing and so Mister and I decided to do some fence work. Winter and a VERY wet spring had shoved our fence posts halfway to Asgard. Yes, I`m afraid there will be some Thor reference`s since that was one of my mom day geeky gifts. Figured I would warn y`all ahead of time. Mister was the driver of posts and I was the rider of metal steeds. Here he is hefting mighty Mjolnir!

And here I am, astride my battle horse Polaris!

Yea verily my steed is stalwart and most economical with hay consumption. Although with the cost of gas up to four dollars a gallon it might well be cheaper to feed a war stallion!

While we were repairing and redriving we found this in our cattle pasture.

Pretty good sized bear by the size of that paw print comparison. Must be he got entangled going in, ripped the electric fence down then once that was shorted out made his escape. After all was righted and back to zapping we let the does and their kids onto new pasture. Mm-Mm good!

Then it was time for one of my mother’s day gifts! Dinner at the Frog Hut in Wellsboro then off to the movie theater to see Thor, the newest hero film from Marvel Studios!

The movie was great and the atmosphere superb, right down to a patron coming in with a long blond wig, red cape and silver helmet! We comic geeks ROCK! Also, just to pass it along, Chris Hemsworth, the Aussie that played the Norse god of thunder Thor minus his shirt is simply scrumptious! Feral would not lie about such things.

Saturday gave me another glorious geek gift since it was Free Comic Book Day! Yippee!!! We piled into the car and made the trek to Elmira Heights. That`s where the closest comic shop is. Jared`s shop ‘Heroes Your Mom Threw Out’ is a great place to poke through boxes for old back issues as well as finding the new releases Marvel, DC and all the other comic companies release weekly. My comics come in the mail from Jared usually bi-weekly but he always calls Thursday morning as regular as clockwork. That is what I call service! Here I am, in full geekdom, standing outside Jared`s packed shop with the one and only Green Lantern!

Oh but how I wish it had been Ryan Reynolds in that green spandex!! *Sighs and drifts off dreamily*

Oh, uhm…tee-hee. Yes. Anydoodles, after the yearly pilgrimage to comic nerd Mecca we made a stop at the mall and returned home where my daughter gifted me with this lovely begonia!

Today the family is gathering to cook dinner for my mother-in-law and give her the gifts all her kids have gotten her.

Yes, it was a wonderful Mother` s Day weekend for me, and I hope it was for all of you as well!

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Secret Agent Cat

Hi there humans! It`s me, that uber kewl and top secret type mancat Lucius!

Yup, I returned from my secret assignment last night. Man let me tell you the life of a top agent feline spy isn`t an easy one! When I left nearly two weeks ago I was deep in covertness and stealth. It was imperative that no-one knew where I was going or why. That`s why I didn`t tell my people. Spies can`t tell what they`re doing or where they`re going! It wouldn`t be secret if everyone knew right?

Even now, I can`t divulge exactly what happened on my mission. If I told you I`d have to kill you. Ha! Nah I wouldn`t kill you guys. I will say that it sure was good to get back home. Spy work is hard and dangerous. I had to hide in secret locations when it rained. The food isn`t real good either when you`re out spying for your fellow felines! Hmm, excuse me while I go grab some more cat nubbies.

Ah that`s better. *Licks paw and cleans face*

Now where was I? Oh yeaz, coming back home. Man did my goatherder lady and the nice blond girl cry when I ran inside. It was downright embarrassing all the hugging and kissing that went on! I mean, what if some other top operative had seen all that smooching and cooing?! My reputation as a killer spy for catdom would be ruined I tell you!

It was kind of nice though, in a totally not kewl masculine way. I did miss my humans and the dogs. I spent a lot of time catching up on my leg rubs and dog cleaning.

Those dogs just don`t know how to stay tidy like we cats do! Lu-Lu seems really mad at me. I know she thinks that I should have informed her of my whereabouts but she`s not a top ranking kewl spy like I am. And you know how lady cats are! She`d have blabbed to someone and then my cover and my mission would have been compromised! I think she`ll come around though in time. I mean, all the ladies love a handsome, erudite and kewl spy right?

My goatherding lady said that you blogging folks were real nice to her when I was gone espionageing. Thanks for that. She`s a good human and I guess maybe I should have at least left a cryptic note for her, so she wouldn`t be real worried huh? Next time the chief from KEWL (Kats Enforcing World Law) calls on my secret fuzzy mouse phone I`ll make sure to write her a coded missive that will self-destruct after she reads it. Guess now that the world is safe for my fellow felines I`ll go find a nice soft bed and take a really long nap.

Boy it sure is good to be home.



Agent of KEWL

Monday, May 2, 2011

Birthdays, Goats and Wee Webbed Birds

Morning all! Come on in and grab a mug.

It`s been a busy couple of days here on the hillside farm. That`s not unusual by any means, especially for a weekend. Saturday of course started off with my tale of a near miss while out turkey hunting. Then Miss Yodeling and I ran uptown to look for some new jeans for her while Mister got to work on the task of cleaning the cow barn. He got the short end of that stick for sure!

Sunday dawned bright and early with a list of things to get done. Good thing for my hubby he has the next two weeks off for vacation to go turkey hunting! Seems those to-do lists never get any shorter, we just keep adding more to it! I hustled about and did the bird chores then took care of my new ducklings and goslings.

Ain`t they just too darn cute!? Then I got around and whipped up a bowl of macaroni salad for a family celebration we were having at dinner time. I got the salad done and then scampered down to the goat barn to worm and change name bands on the kids.

Some I can tell by sight and others I can`t. That happens here a lot, darn bucks make little carbon copies of themselves! Mister had gotten the cow barn cleaned and was working on the outside mounds of hay and nanny berries that had grown to monumental proportions over the winter. He was more than glad to lay down the pitchfork and help catch and re-band kids let me tell you!

Lunch then came and it was time to make a run to one of my goatherding buddies to scope out a Sable doeling she had for sale. Had is the key word there since I grabbed the little cutie-pie up in a big hurry! I`ll have some pictures of her when we go pick her up in a few weeks. Over the past few years I`ve grown to really enjoy my Sable`s and am planning to get out of raising Nubian`s and raising Sables, which are colored Saanan`s. They are a more laid back breed it seems to me and I can keep 3-4 does and get the same amount of milk that I`m getting out of 6-7 Nubian`s. Of course Miss Yodeling`s LaMancha doe Freya will not go anywhere, rest assured!

She adores her Munchies!

We visited for quite awhile with Miss Lisa and then stopped to chat with Madame Marcia who runs about two hundred head of dairy goats. If I had a brain I would have taken my camera. Sometimes I have to wonder where my head is gang! Stopping in to chat with Madame Marcia is always a hoot. That woman is a card! Outspoken and hilarious and just plain people like me and Mister.

After the visits and goat ogling and having to ensure Miss Yodeling didn`t abscond with one of Madame Marcia`s Munchie kids under her jacket we hurried back home, got the chores done then went down to my mother-in-law`s to celebrate her 75th birthday! We had a great time and tons of laughs. And yes Tina, I`m putting up pictures just like you knew I would!

All my mother-in-laws five kids were there and quite a few grandkids. The food was great as was the fresh pot of java brewed to go along with a delicious lemon cake my sister-in-law Tina made.

This morning dawned kind of cloudy and with a definite feel of rain in the air. It has rained almost every day for weeks on end. I think I`m beginning to grow gills. Mister was up and at it and out the door before 5 AM, his camo on and his shotgun in hand. Feral was still zombie woman when he rolled out. By 6:30 he was home with this 20 pound mature gobbler!

His beard was 8 inches long. Look at these dandy spurs of an inch long. Bet he used them to get into some knockdown skirmishes!

Now the kid is at school, the laundry is laundering and Mister is cleaning his bird. He has two turkey tags to fill so I imagine he`ll be heading out tomorrow morning to try to find another tom.

So how has your weekend been??