Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Getting about, at least...

Well, this morning, Husband asked me NOT to walk the hill.  For any of you that haven't read the blog long, we live on a bit of property on an area called "Spring Hill".  Well, right now, where I walk is a creek.  There is water running down the hill, there is water in a sloggy pond at the bottom of the hill, there is more water in various forms coming from the sky, and making MORE water here, so I will have to go to Plan B for exercising.  Tae Bo, anyone? 

Poor Rudee won't get his run, but right now, he'd be be swimming more than running.  He seems content to stay in his house right at the moment, anyway.  The llamas don't seem to care, however.  They have been outside since birth, as far as I know, I keep the chicken house open for them to duck in out of the weather. Do they use it?

That's snow on his back...

Nah. 

They walk about, out in the rain, the snow.  They do duck under the trees when it hails, but just long enough for it to quit, and then out they go again.  Crazy critters.  The chickens, on the other hand, sit in the doorway, and glare at me like it's my fault that it's raining, or snowing.  Can't please 'em all, I guess.  Buzz the Hyperactive Wonder Kitten just dozes in the hay, when she isn't trying to get into Husband's boat. 

Husband doesn't care for cats. 

At least that's what he said. 

Funny thing, I am no longer feeding Buzz.  Buzz doesn't really want much to do with me, as I move her to get hay for the llamas, and start my truck, scaring her silly, as it's next to the hay.  Husband has been seen walking around carrying Buzz like a baby.  Buzz loves it.  I try, and she tries to do a burnout on my chest. 

I mentioned, gee Buzz is turning out to be YOUR kitty.  With a Spock-like dryness, he responded, like Rudee is your dog?

Touche'.

I thought Husband would lose his adoration for the fluff ball when she started trying to find a warm spot in the boat.  HIS boat. 

Husband's Sanctum Floatorum. 

I really even hesitated to tell him that she'd wiggled her way into the boat, again, when he'd said that he'd redone the tarps and such, because "that cat had made a furry mess on the seat.  I don't want her ruining those seats, they are expensive.  She has hay..." 

My thought, yeah, Husband, if you had the choice between a warm, cloth covered seat, with no one moving you on a regular basis, or loud noises, or a scratchy seat, that sometimes is very loud, which would YOU take?  But I said nothing.

Husband went outside.  I asked him what he'd been up to when he came back in.  "Oh, I was just setting up some boards along the tarp, so the kitten would not go into the boat. The naughty little poop."

I nearly dropped my teeth.  Husband calling anything a 'naughty little poop' is just...

Well, I would have put better odds on the Pope becoming a Buddhist.  Husband now comes in and tells me about how she loves the new food I bought for her, and that her feet were cold when he picked her up, etc., etc., etc...

Who is this guy, and what did he do with my husband???  ; )

I was invited to take a class having to do with CERT.  It was in a government facility, and I was required to do several things, just to sign up for the class. (Questions about nationality, things like that.)  When I arrived, they had to do a check under the vehicle for bombs.  I have gone through this with Husband, when he's had to pick up metal in military facilities for a company he works for, as well as a couple of items we have bought.

So why did the thought of someone checking the undercarriage of my truck make me worry?  Not for me, but for the guy doing the job?  And what the heck would they do if they DID find something???

The next thought, which I never got the chance to ask, was if they ever had trouble with someone having a dropped muffler, or a low profile car.  They were so nice to me, and I was on my best behavior, please, thank you, so on.  I was happy to note, that when I finished the class, one of the guards said it was too bad I wasn't going to be back, and that he hoped I had a very nice day.  (Awww...) 

The class itself was very useful to see the things I have learned, in a situation I wasn't familiar with.  This happened to be training in a facility working with the Department of Energy (yes, we discussed the stuff in Japan.  I didn't understand half of what was said, but they seemed to think that all was not lost.  But that was also Monday...)  These guys were using the training to work out press releases and information to the public (hence the reason I was there, Public Information Officer "stuff"), but it was for a facility, a business, rather than for small groups, or for the Sheriff's Office.  I must say, seeing how a group that I was unfamiliar with, and that had different (but not unrelated) priorities, made this a worthwhile class.  I also learned some different information about, of all things, body language, should I go up and be in front of cameras. (G*d Forbid...)

I managed only one minor faux pas.  I took my knitting bag.  The one with a peace symbol on it.  Ahem.  I noticed the teacher kept glaring in my general direction, when the bag was out.  I could not fathom at first why.  He was polite, but kept asking questions about what I knew on nuclear power and such.  (Not much...)  Then a teeny bell rang in the back of my head.  The peace sign is a symbol for nuclear disarmament.  Oh, s***!!!  Uh.  He was also of an age where there could be Vietnam War things going on.  What do I do?

The next time the teacher came over, I smiled, and turned over the bag.  I said something to the effect that I just loved the present my Mom gave me, and then went on as if nothing happened.  He looked a bit surprised, and then asked a few more questions.  I politely answered them, and then would change the subject to the reason I was there, saying that I was so happy I could be invited to a class where I could see the program I have learned, used in a situation different than I was used to.  I also invited him to look at some of the CERT materials that I had with me.  It seemed to get him down from his grumblies. 

So, I am probably one of the few people to go into a Department of Energy building, having what amounts to a protest sign, and still be accepted!  (Yipes!)  Not exactly the thing I'd planned, but I survived.

What was absolutely fun tho, was almost accidental.  I had given my email address, and it starts "furnfeathers" (Read: fur and feathers).  We had a Fire Chief there, like me, invited to see how a differing group would use the training.  He commented on the odd choice.  I told him I raised chickens and llamas, and we had a long lunch conversation on camelids!  He was interested in llamas or alpacas for his family, and I worked my hardest to bring him to the 'dark side'!  

; D 

He was very interested, as were a couple others, and I didn't get one comment on them being vicious, or even the standard "THEY SPIT" comment.  It was a very nice lunch!

Almost caught up on my house work.  I did laundry and dishes, dumped out the trash (fortune had it that we had no food spoilage from the power outage. Husband used the generator for an hour or so at a time to keep the freezer and fridge going.  He did grouse about the milk not being cold enough in the morning.  I wondered why he started the generator at sunrise...)  Finish a few more loads, and then I will be ready for...

Cleaning out the hen house. Be still my beating heart... 

The thrills never end at Fur n' Feathers, folks!

(Oh. And I gained nearly a pound this week.  I am going to have to do something exercise wise, or I am going to be squeezing into my clothing again.  I am not going to let that happen.  DO. NOT. WANT.)

6 comments:

Sharon said...

So sorry about your over abundance of the wet stuff. We had a lot of it too.

Now, what is it about people who don't like cats? That's the folks that the cats want to love. My ex-FIL hated cats, when he and my ex worked on the road, we lived in a converted bus, along with the cat. The cat loved him, he hated her, before the season was over, he was catching fish for her, bring shrimp and chicken home for her. Go figure.

Well, I would say you made it out of your fauz pas with minimal harm done. :-) What fun!

How great, YOUR husband has his generator set up...

Callie Brady said...

Oops... that peace sign story was so funny. Hope you are doing much better. Be careful... don't want you to slip and end up in the "creek." I need to clean out our hen house too. I keep telling myself it is too cold and wet out. Take care. Hugs.

V.L. Locey said...

Our property is a mess as well! Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink...well for us humans anyway!

messymimi said...

Living near the swamps, we get our share of the wet stuff, and i know it's not fun when it just won't stop coming down. We've had that river in the front yard and creek creeping up to the road many a time.

Llamas and alpacas may spit on occasion, but my understanding is they are not nasty and mean about it like their larger cousins in the old world. I've always thought of them as the nice side of the family.

Cleaning the hen house -- maybe i don't want to keep chickens after all. One more thing to clean up after.

Bish Bosh Bash said...

Hi there Cat Crap & Egg in my Pocket - Or can I just call you 'Oregano' for short? Just a very rude 'flyby' visit tonight to say 'Thank You' for joining my silly blogette in the Uk earlier, and I'll parachute back in again soon as I can to prank around here with your Lama.

Say Hi to all those pretty river gridges of yours too. P. xx

bon bon said...

i must say, this was quite the introduction to your blog! (i'm afraid i may need a back story for a few of your references. ha!)

and is that a tally of your weight in the right-hand column? you are one bravo soul! i prefer to keep all diet info secret so i can go on and off of it, keeping in direct correlation to whether there is chocolate in the house.