From the category archives:

Bitching and moaning

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

by Kathi D on August 25, 2008

We had a heavily literary weekend in Sun Valley at the Sun Valley Writers’ Conference, which was just as awesome as always. This was our fourth time there, and it’s our favorite event of every year. I’ll have lots to say about it later on. For now I will report that I discussed the laying properties and personalities of Buff Orpingtons and Barred Rocks and the roostering capabilities of New Hampshire Reds with the former Poet Laureate of the United States, Ted Kooser, proving that there are no bounds to my chicken obsession. Or his, for that matter, although he isn’t keeping any chickens these days.

As for the worst of times, we were supposed to be there until Tuesday, but our darling Bronco had a rough time, causing Auntie Margarita to take him to the emergency vet and scaring us all half to death. So we decided this morning to come home early and relieve Auntie M and Uncle FlaVio of their round-the-clock nursing care of our boy. I know we can’t take better care of him than they have, but we were having trouble concentrating on all the bookish goodness while worrying about the B-Boy.

He has rallied a little bit, but isn’t wanting to eat. The vet found some infection and some other off-kilter blood results, so we will be poking antibiotics and pain pills in poor Bronco and trying to tempt him to eat. He seemed happy to see us, but he sure lucked out having his devoted Auntie M pampering him when we couldn’t.

Meanwhile, Bonnie says, “What am I, chopped liver?” No, Bonnie, but you are always so easy. Little Miss Self-Sufficient.

I did manage to get a bit of writerly celebrity stalking done, which I will share with you all this week. (Don’t even try to stop me.)


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Two rants and a rave

by Kathi D on August 21, 2008

OK, so Diana has failed to heed The Memo. Diana, I would so hate to have to send Tiny to visit. You know, Tiny don’t like nobody. That’s exactly what he says, “Tiny don’t like nobody.” He refers to himself in the third person, which ordinarily would make me so angry that I would slap somebody up the back of his or her head. I don’t do that, though, because, well, Tiny don’t like nobody. Have I made that pretty plain?

I don’t like to get all up in somebody’s grill when basically, they are being nice. Although in this case, like in some others, I am not sure that Diana isn’t just messing with me, little scamp that she is.

Now, there are other people who did heed The Memo, and for that, Kim gets the pleasure of not greeting Tiny at her door. Not that Tiny is a bad person, exactly. He just don’t like nobody.

People, people, people, the captcha must die

You know I hate complaining, being that I am All About People and all, but I keep finding blogs that employ the dreaded captcha deal where you have to type in the letters that you see before you can leave a comment, and I’m thinking, do these people have enemies in Botworld or something? Are there interloper bots just waiting to jump in and make unwanted posts on their blogs, such that they have to make us human beings type in a string of letters which are all wiggly and wobbly and effed up so that they are hard for bots to read, presumably, but guess what, I’m not a bot and I can’t read the dang things either, and besides, I swear I typed all those letters the right way at least three times and the god-dern captcha is just trying to get my goat.

So I am just saying, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD unless you have really pissed off some bots enough that they want to wreak revenge on you by commenting on your blog in inappropriate ways, TURN OFF THE CAPTCHA. Please, people. We all have to live in this world together.

There. I’ve said it and I feel better. Not enough better to post a rave, though. Maybe tomorrow. Oh, and don’t get me started (again) on the music-playing blogs.


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