The Mother of all Cat Boxes

FURRY JERK

2 years ago I made fun of my son and sweet daughter in law for what I deemed the most ridiculous purchase ever.  A Japanese Cat Litter Box.    First I laughed out loud.  Then I internally criticized what appeared to be a really silly wasteful amount of money that could have been spent more wisely on wine and/or chocolate.   Then I'm pretty sure it went for internal to external, like " well that's just stupid".  

Then my asshole cat of 4 years decided that she'd go for the Olympic Stand and Pee record inside her 12.99 Walmart enclosed cat litter box.   Which ran down the sides and through the "sealed" seam.  Which ended up in the tub and may I just say smells fabulous.  Every fricking day.   And then there's the trail of grit the furry midget drags all over creation like Hansel and Gretel so she can find her way back to the crap box if her olfactory nerves ever give out.   And every day I would walk past the bathroom, deemed Cat Sh#t Hollow, and curse the cat, the litter, the tub, bunny rabbits,  unicorns and the dog if she was close enough.    While the AH Cat sat in the hall and smirked.   

Finally I just couldn't take it any more....... and Amazon Prime was sitting there and I kinda recall a bottle of red wine and feeling particularly sorry for myself.  And more importantly there was no one to stop me or witness how ridiculous I was about to be.  ONE-CLICK SHOPPING.    $100.00 cat crap box.   And may I just say IT IS WORTH EVERY PENNY!  

NO MORE OLYMPIC PEEING RECORDS TO CHALLENGE,  NO MORE TRAIL OF GRIT, NO MORE CURSING LOUDLY WHILE TRYING NOT TO BREATHE WHILE CLEANING IT OUT, AND NO MORE SMIRKING C...... well she still smirks.    Furry Jerk.   

And yes, crow is delightful if you slow cook it in an InstantPot.  (curse you Amazon Prime) 

Cat viewing stand

CLICK HERE FOR THE MOTHER OF ALL CAT BOXES

Milk Jug - Murder , Mayhem, Malice

Downstairs - "SON OF A B.........!!!!"


Most evenings don't end this way.  Well, some do.  Mine sometimes.    My sweet husband is an avid health nut.  He's very proactive in taking care of himself.      He watches what he eats and he exercises daily.  He makes sure he gets plenty of rest and drinks lots of water.   All things I've read about in Grimm's Fairy Tales or Healthy YOU magazine.  They're very similar.  Magic Beans, etc.

He keeps track of how much exercise he gets, and he measures how much water he drinks daily.  I, on the other hand, just try to move so my legs don't get tinglely and I drink water when I'm thirsty and there's no red wine.  Or white wine.  Or beer.  Or chocolate milk.  

A couple of weeks ago he started filling up a gallon jug with water that he then pours into a water bottle that he drinks from in an effort to consume some mystical number of ounces a day to reach some optimal requirement of hydration.  I assume.  Unless he suspicious of the water going into the water bottle without it resting first in a viewing area.  I don't know, I'm spit balling here.  It's a special jug.  It came with some magical health powders that tell you it tastes like strawberry shakes but they lie.  I've added ice cream to it and it still tastes like ground up cardboard.    So the water viewing jug has been peacefully coexisting with all the other liquids holding things in the fridge for weeks.  Until tonight.

Downstairs: - "SON OF A B.......!!!"

Him:  [lots of angry muttering]
Me:  ..... what's wrong?
Him:  SOMEONE STABBED MY WATER JUG!
Me:  ....what?
Him:  SOME....ONE....STABBED....MY....WATER....JUG!
Me:    ...stabbed your water jug?   let me see that!

tiny stab wound 

Him:  You just can't have anything!
Me:  ......um, [eye twitching], ummmm it looks melted......[eye twitching]
Him: ALL I KNOW IS I WAS FILLING IT UP AND WATER STARTED RUNNING DOWN MY LEG.
Me:  ummm, [cough, cough],  I think, I'm not sure, but I think I might have accidentally unknowingly kinda sorta touched it with the flaming hot cookie sheet that was full of zucchini fries.  
Him:  You think this is funny!
Me:  It's a gallon jug, it looks like a milk jug, HERE, take this milk jug, it's about to turn anyway.
Him:  You're laughing!
Me:  NOOOOO, I wouldn't do that!  I'm not laughing, I have allergies, and coughing episodes when I'm filled with water jug anxiety.
Him:  You're laughing now!
Me:  Yes, but not at you, or the stabbed water jug.  I'm so sorry, it was an accident.
Him:  You murdered my water jug.
Me:  I blame the zucchini fries , they're the ones that insisted on being roasted on a cookie sheet!
Him:.........
Me:  I'M A MONSTER!!!!

Him: You're not a monster, you just have a unique skill set.
Me:  ....let that be a warning to all your other water bottles.

I'm coming for you :)

how to get your 6 year old to order rack of lamb

Veggie Dip.    Yes, that's right it starts with the right veggie dip.    My husband's grandmother's veggie dip was instrumental in the development of my kids' extensive palates.  From the time they could walk they were shoveling this dip in their mouths with  cucumber slices.  That's also the time I instituted the TODDLER ONLY APPETIZER TRAY.  Because they can be pretty disgusting with finger food.  They became adventurous eaters.   They'd order stuff just for the sheer pleasure of getting to say the name out loud to a waiter.  Think pu-pu platter.  An all-time favorite for my son to order at the local Chinese restaurant.  Or more recently the charcuterie tray that my daughter mistakenly believed was all cheese.  It was not.  But it WAS delicious!  Grammie's Veggie Dip was the beginning.  It's addictive.  And it's a great way to introduce lots of different vegetables like broccoli, cucumbers, turnips, bell peppers, radishes, celery, cauliflower, grape tomatoes, to name a few.  (If you don't make a face or impose your own "UGH" they'll try it - especially if they see you eating it!)    And here it is.

Meet Hazel - Shelly's sous chef.

I always double the recipe and there is never any leftover.  Ever.  Also it seems to freeze well when I make it ahead of time.  Which I find kind of amazing.        Okay here's what you'll need - ( I forgot to put an onion in the picture so go get one and set it in front of the screen. )

A word about B-V.   I can't find it anywhere anymore.  I have to order it from New Jersey from a woman named Carol that must smoke 5 packs of Marlboros a day.  It's from a company called MajorProducts that supplies restaurants.    I order it by the case.    It's that good.    You can substitute other beef/vegetable concentrates for this but I wouldn't.  They'll know.    (by they I mean the blasted kids).  I have a call in as I type to order another case.      

First you want to cream the cottage cheese.  I just plop it in the mixer and let it run and go get the cream cheese.  You don't want it completely smooth , kind of like , I don't know I can't come up with a description just don't over beat it.  If it turns into butter you've gone to far.  Go get bread.  

Now add the cream cheese and let it run.  Stop it several times and scrape the sides and especially the bottom and mix it until it's all mixed together.  But still not butter.  

(Shelly laughing hysterically over a Julia Child joke that Hazel just told her.)

Now add the B-V.  

Liquid gold.  Looks like motor oil.   ( still laughing) 

(darn it Hazel) 

When you spill it you will cuss out loud.  Like " oh darn I just spilled an ounce of liquid gold that Carol just shipped me, darn, darn, darn!"  And then your husband will say " We don't say DARN in this house".  Then you tell him what happened and he remembers what it cost to ship it and then you have to remind him that we don't say THAT word either.  Don't spill it.  Better yet don't try to take a picture of yourself pouring it with a dinosaur and it probably won't happen anyway.  Maybe.

  

Add the Liquid Gold to the cream cheese/cottage cheese mixture.   Now is will turn a lovely shade of brown.  Lovely if you already know what this will taste like.  Not so much if you have no idea what it will taste like.  In fact if you take this to a get-together most people will avoid it like the plague.  Which actually works out in your favor because that means more for you.  We rarely encourage strangers to "give it a try".  Mostly I just agree "why yes , it does look like it's turned!", as  I scoop out a celery stick full.  

Next you want to go straight to the store and buy this knife.  I got this one at a local shop called Bazaar on our town square in Collierville, Tennessee.  You need it so you can enjoy lopping off the end of the onion before you grate it.     Go here - http://www.bazaaroliveoil.com/


Okay, you don't really need it BUT it is a wonderful knife and I love cutting through the onion like it's "butter" [New Jersey accent].   Plus I like seeing if I can cause a run on knife sales at Bazaar.    Seriously, go buy yourself a good knife.  Taste all the olive oils and drink the vinegars.  It's my favorite fun food shop!  

The recipe calls for grated onion.  I use a microplane grater.  It should look like this: 

Scoop up what you need and add to the cream cheese/cottage/B-V mix.  Henceforth known as the STUFF.    Mix it throughly.  Scraping the sides for good measure. 

Add the lemon juice to the STUFF. 

Add the worschesterersereserssssshire sauce.  Yes, that's the correct spelling.  

Mix all the STUFF together.   Taste test! Taste Test! Taste TEST!!!!!

Try all kinds of raw vegetables. My favorite is cucumber! Seriously delicious!  Call me over and I'll taste test it for you!!!     Store in fridge (duh, it's all dairy) . Any questions just ask!    Enjoy!  

Intermittent crying with a chance of sunshine- Part 1

Last month .....


Arghhhhh, I ate too much pasta, my stomach is killing me.
Later that night-    Arghhhhh,  I hate pasta.
The next morning -  ARGHHHHH, I feel terrible, like glass in my stomach.    Bill announces,  That's it......let's head to the ER.

I don't think I've ever really been in an ER.  For myself.  Off we go.  Fortunately it's not that far from our house.  I get checked in.  The pain worsens, I'm thinking appendicitis or kidney stones.  They hook me up to pain and nausea meds.  Ask me lots of questions.  Do a CT.  Kinda.  I have very stubborn tiny veins,  bless the technicians heart as she pushed the dye into my upper arm vein that they had to locate with a doppler machine while Bill uttered the words "Cool", only to blow it out causing my arm to swell up to the point where it refused to bend.  But she announces enough got through to take pictures.  Finds a mass in my female parts area - words of the ER doctor.  Well, that seems vague, technically I am all female parts. Doctor refers me to West Clinic.  A new panic sets in.  ( I'll just go ahead and say everything turned out fine for me.  The doctor and team at West Clinic are the most wonderful people on the planet- more on that later)   And the ER sends me home.

4 days later coming out of my meds stupor I realize that I haven't actually gone to the bathroom.  You know, in a more committed way.  Naturally this is all I can focus on.   I begin to read all the information that was handed to me in a lovely folder when they discharged me from the ER.
In capital letters " NO LAXATIVES, unless prescribed by your physician."
Hmmmm, well crap. ( or not).    Now I'm sitting in my bed , tears running down my face in tired frustration.  I call out to Bill.
Hey, do you think I can take a laxative or something?
Bill:  I don't know, call your doctor.
Me:  You are a doctor person......just tell me what to do.
Bill:  CALL YOUR DOCTOR
Me:  YOU CALL YOUR DOCTOR!!!!
Bill:  Kelly....... just call the ER doctor and ask.
Me:  [mimicking] kelly....just call the er doctor and ask.
I pick up the folder and reread hoping it will say ........NO LAXATIVES EXCEPT FOR YOU , TAKE WHATEVER YOU WANT.  It does not say this.     But it does tell me how to access my chart information and ask questions online.  Hmmmm, maybe this is what i need to do.

I go online, set up my account, access my chart, find the part about submitting questions and start typing.   Yes, I realize this probably took 4 times longer than actually picking up the phone and dialing.  Whatever.    I click on the tab for questions.   "Your account in not approved for submitting questions, please call your doctor."   WTH.......why is everyone obsessed with me personally discussing my bathroom habits with a live person.  [more tears]
Okay, where's the stupid sheet of  paper with the  phone number???   I locate it.  "If you have any questions regarding your account please call 555-5555" (go ahead, dial it)
I dial the number.   [more tears]   The line rings and a voice answers.  Hello, this is Paul with Baptist blah blah blah, may I help you?   "I hope so , I was discharged from your ER 4 days ago and , well, I haven't gone to the bathroom and I'm miserable and it's all I can think about and the folder said no laxatives, is it okay to take a stool softener? , and I just hoping you can help me , I'm just so tired, and it said to call this number and all I want to do is poop...... "
Paul :  ........[crickets]..........
Me:  hello?
Paul:  .....um, I'm with IT.
Me:  .....[bigger crickets] ......so Paul, do you get many poop questions or am I the only one?
Paul: oh, you'd be surprised at the questions I get asked, but I can connect you with the desk at the ER, don't worry.
Me:  Frankly at this point I'd be happy for your advice but what the heck let's see if they can help
Paul:  okay, well good luck, I'll connect you.
Me:  Thanks Paul.  ( seriously if Paul had said you should eat rocks and tango up and down the street I would have done it)
Another voice:  May I help you?
Me:  Let's see......

I repeat my story, we eventually come to the conclusion that I'm safe to take some medication, but I'm not safe to be dialing random numbers on a sheet of paper.    Poor Paul.

Next - filling out forms for surgery....... while I thought some of the questions were hilarious the man that drove me to surgery was not amused.

my healing view 

When Dinosaurs Cook.....

Today on "Cooking with Dinosaurs" Shelly looks at make ahead dishes for Thanksgiving  - Cranberry Relish - because who the heck wants that spam-jello on your plate.  Seriously , it's disgusting.  You can do better.  

Here's a copy of the recipe:  Gather all your ingredients before getting started - or you'll just get pissed off when you discover it calls for 'FRESH LEMON JUICE'.    

Cranberry Relish.  It's good.  Don't argue.

Now rinse the cranberries.  Throw out the mushy ones.  Go ahead and taste one.   (hahahahahaha)
Get your mother-in-law's 1957 Kitchen-aid food grinder -  and grind the berries. 

 yeah, they LOOK tempting. If you need to learn to whistle eat a handful.

These are ground.  Not chopped, not sliced, not diced.  GROUND.    There's a difference.


Juice the FRESH LEMONS and add to the ground berries.  I forgot to take a picture.    Good luck. 

This is how they should look after you grind them.  If they don't call someone from your church in their 70's.  After they're done laughing at you and declaring this generation "without a clue" borrow their grinder and ask for a hands on demonstration.   If you don't go to church just go ahead and drive to Kroger and get the canned crap you're used to.

Add 2 cups ( whatever , I think this was a 18 oz jar and I can never figure out the difference between weight and mass but it looks good so let's just go with it, try not to stress , IT'S RELISH) 

Peel and chop up about 4 apples.  I use 2 Granny Smith and 2 Galas.  I like crisp and tart apples.  Stir them in.    YUMMY.  Don't tarry or they will turn brown.   ( Google tarry or go back and ask the 70 year old church lady the definition where she'll pity you for your lack of vocab) 

Although the recipe calls for 2  1/2 cups of sugar  add only a 1/2 cup and stir and taste.  Depending on how tart the berries are will dictate how much sugar you'll use.  Unless you want diabetes, then just go ahead and add all the sugar, you are on your way! 

PREPARE THE NUTS!!!!

Betty Crocker knows how to prepare nuts.   Even in 1959.  Look up "Toasting Nuts" because for some reason I can never remember the best way to do this.   Put 2 cups of whole pecans ( or walnuts, but I hate walnuts) on a baking sheet on 350 degrees for about 10 minutes or until they are heated through.  THEY WILL SMELL DELICIOUS.  Also they are hot - avoid popping them in your mouth unless you like blisters on your tongue.   Get a glass of water because you know you're going to do it anyway.   After they cool chop them.  And add to the berries.   

Nut perfection. 

Keep out predators. 

Stir it occasionally.  Taste to see if you need more sugar.    Get rid of the chicken stock behind the cranberry relish.  Unless you want to kill everyone in your family.  Try to avoid cracking any of Bill's special eggs.    And share it.  For goodness sakes it makes about 9 cups. How much cranberry relish do you think you need????    Thus ended the first of "Cooking with Dinosaurs".  

  

Cooking. Or more reasons to drink wine.

I LOVE COOKBOOKS

Roast a chicken he said.  It's easy he said. 


Me:  hey Bill, come in here and read this to me.
Bill:  ok, where?
Me:  There [pointing fat covered finger at book]
Bill: "to truss the chicken....."
Me:  *%$#@$%^
Bill:  what are you doing?
Me:  Trussing!
Bill:  Why are you bleeding?
Me:  I don't have time to explain, NEXT SENTENCE
Bill:  "find middle of string, wrap around tail and cross over , then wrap around end of legs and pull tight, flip chicken, cross on back.....
Me:  TOO FAST......wait, no , I got it! I got it.
Bill: cross over wings , tie in knot, cut excess

This is why Kroger cooks chickens

Me:  tah dah.......NO....I CUT IT TOO SHORT, LOOSE WINGS, LOOSE WINGS.....

I'll just look at the pictures. 

BILL: .............it'll be fine.
Me:  ..... go get the staple gun.
Bill: .....we don't have a staple gun.
Me: .....Julia would have a staple gun.  Is it too early for wine?

MORE DEAD PET STORIES. ALSO I HAD EYE SURGERY.

I JUST HAD CATARACT SURGERY IN MY RIGHT EYE.  LEFT EYE IS IN TWO WEEKS.  I'M TYPING IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I CAN SEE THREE STREETS OVER WITH MY NEW IMPLANT, NOT BOOB, LENS, BECAUSE BOOBS DON'T NEED TO SEE, ALTHOUGH IT MIGHT BE HELPFUL.  LIKE EXTRA SECURITY, AND MY LEFT EYE CAN SEE ONLY 3 INCHES.       BECAUSE OF THE SURGERY I HAVE TO WEAR A PLASTIC CUP OVER MY RIGHT EYE AT BEDTIME.  WHICH I MUST SAY IS QUITE SEXY.  IF YOU LIKE NEARSIGHTED PIRATES THAT LOOK LIKE THEY HAVE AN ATHLETIC SUPPORTER TAPED TO THEIR FOREHEAD.  MAYBE THAT'S YOUR THING.    I FEEL I'M MISSING SOMETHING, ONE OF MY "FRIENDS" SUGGESTED A PARROT.  THANK YOU BECKY.  WHICH REMINDED ME OF ANOTHER ONE OF MY LESS THAN SUCCESSFUL PET STORIES.  I'M GLAD MY CURRENT PETS DON'T HAVE ACCESS TO THE INTERNET.  I'M SURE THEY'D RUN AWAY.

YEARS AGO, I HAD A PARAKEET NAMED BEETHOVEN.  I LOVED THAT PARAKEET.  NOT AT DAYBREAK.  I HATED HIM THEN.  CHIRPY LITTLE BASTARD.  HE FOLLOWED ME ALL OVER THE HOUSE, MOSTLY HE WALKED ON THE FLOOR TO PROVE A POINT.  I HAD TO KEEP HIS NAILS CLIPPED BECAUSE HE'D GET CAUGHT IN THE SHAG CARPET AND COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR LACK OF DECORATING STYLE.  WE'D WATCH BARETTA TOGETHER AND HE'D COMMENT ON FRED'S OVERACTING.  ( GOOGLE IT) .    ONE MORNING I LOOKED IN BEETHOVEN'S CAGE AND HE WASN'T THERE.  I COULDN'T FIND HIM ANYWHERE.  JUST VANISHED.  I WAS SO SAD.  LATER, I SAT DOWN ON THE COUCH TO KNIT.  AS THE YARN MADE IT'S WAY TOWARDS MY KNITTING NEEDLES THERE WAS A HUGE CLUMP IN THE YARN.  THAT STUPID BIRD HAD CRAWLED INTO MY KNITTING BAG AND DIED.  NOW I WAS SAD AND HORRIFIED OF YARN CRAFTS.  

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO KNIT AROUND HIM BUT I MANAGED.

HE WAS A SARCASTIC BUDGIE.

LESS CHIRPY.  IN MEMORY OF BEETHOVEN.