Twitter Foolishness

Hello fans,

My husband works at a newspaper. They require some of the writers to tweet. Well, I thought, if my wacky husband was tweeting, I certainly want to experience that.

So I signed up to follow the tweeting of the R------- T---- D-------.

Nothing happened for a few days, so I asked my tweeter had he tweeted lately, and how does this work since I had signed up to follow his tweets. He said something like "I dunno, it's all a bunch of crap, who cares." That might be a bit more negative than what he said, but I try to make things interesting for my readers.

A few days later I received e-mail saying that the RTD was now following me. Now readers, I don't know much about Twitter, but I don't think a big old newspaper really wants to be following me. I'm pretty sure it's meant to be the other way round.

Still no tweets. Do they come to my e-mail or do I have to go fetch them? If so, that's dumb.

A few days ago I received e-mail saying that Bettina Merkl was now following me. Yikes, I don't want anyone following me, most especially a stranger.

Then today I received e-mail telling me that a young lady I do know and am very fond of is a follower. Jeez, now I feel like I have to tweet. This is getting to be a lot of pressure.

Today I screwed up my courage and clicked on the profile link for Bettina to see who she might be. Doggone it, "Bettina" is selling something, something related to satellite TV. I bet there isn't even anyone named Bettina Merkl. What do you think?

You know, I just wanted to see the funny stuff my husband writes. Maybe I'll skip Twitter and just ask him when he gets home if he wrote anything funny today.

My Day

Did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt wrote a newspaper column called My Day? This posting will not be as good as anything she wrote.

I slept in a little bit. When I got up I slopped the hogs, milked the cows, and filled all the hay bins in the barn. Well, not exactly, but taking care of all these animals feels like I'm living on a farm. Poor me.

I watched the D-Day commemoration broadcast from Normandy on C-Span. It was very moving. All the presidents spoke (UK, Canada, France, USA) Ours talked the longest. He was good, as usual, but went on a bit too long. I wonder if Michelle pointed this out to him.

He told us about one of the D-Day veterans who was in very poor health but made the trip anyway. Last night this veteran visited the cemetery to pay his respects to his fallen comrades. Then he died later in the night. I hope that he went peacefully.

Of course when I think about D-day, I think about my dad who was D+1; he landed the next day. I wonder what he found on the beach. He didn't talk about his experience, as most veterans don't. I bet he saw some horrible things during his tour of Europe. I still have the little wooden clogs he brought home from Holland.

After that we took our big old fat dog for a walk. He seems to be moving better and may have lost a pound or two.

After that I went to the library. The one I used to work in. I miss it quite a bit. It was crowded and noisy and one of the patrons had pretty bad BO, so that helps me remember that I don't miss everything; just a few things.

Then we went to Costco to look at patio furniture. We spent $157 but got no patio furniture. Once you start putting things in your cart at Costco, all is lost. Don't fight it. Sure, why not get a $10 jar of cashews. This is America, live large.

Then I went to the grocery store while my nutty husband went for a run. I'd tell you how much I spent there but I didn't even notice. My purchase did not include patio furniture.

For dinner we ate a pizza we purchased at Costco. It has mozzarella cheese, basil, and tomato. It was tasty but the crust was too thick. It is also the size of a man-hole cover. Come on over, there's plenty left. Maybe Pete will come by and help us finish it.

We took the fat dog for a walk again.

Now we are waiting for the kittens to amuse us with their playful hijinks while we watch a Paul Simon special on PBS, which would be very enjoyable if these pesty people would quite asking us for money.

I have to go now and wake these boring kittens up. I need some action.

Let me know if you know a good place to buy patio furniture.

Good night.

Happy News

If I had written this post 24 hours ago, it would be called Sad News.

You see, Tippy was missing for over 24 hours. After several hours of not seeing her, and noticing that the food dishes hadn't been totally emptied on Saturday (all 3 of them) we got the flashlight and looked all over for her. We knew by Saturday night that she must have gotten out.

We were distraught. I thought I had seen her Saturday morning but couldn't remember for sure. Paul thought she must have gotten out late Friday night we he let Moses out.

I got up early Sunday morning after deciding at about 4 a.m. that she must be stuck in a tree.

I was standing in the laundry room and heard thumping on the back porch. I looked out and saw her. I put on my shoes and went out; by this time she was in the side yard looking panicky. I called to her but she ran away. I looked all around and went inside to get a dish of food. It was so early that I didn't want to shout her name, so I walked around shaking the food dish and calling quietly "Tippy. Here Tippy".

No luck. We spent the day incapacitated with sadness. Yes, we know that was kind of silly. Paul blamed himself which was not at all justified.

Late in the day we walked around looking for her; we told several neighbors to be on the lookout for her.

I dallied on going to bed since it would be so lonely in there without her. Since Moses came to stay, we do all of our playing in our bedroom. I turn the lights off and get under the covers. I stick my arm out and wave the feathers on a stick. Before long, I have 2 kittens colliding in mid-air and tussling on the floor. Great fun. We go on like this till my arm gets tired.

I played with Tux a little but it wasn't much fun.

After a while, I heard the deck door opening and the voices got louder. Paul came upstairs and said "Tippy's home."

Yay. She came upstairs and we had a nice reunion. Tux came too. Paul told me Tux was the one who noticed she was out on the deck.

So a sad story has a happy ending. I think I will never get attached to a pet like this again.

Never.

Good lord what a fat dog

Meet Moses, our foster dog. His owner died and the lab rescue folks needed a place for him to stay and we said OK.

We were told that he weighs 92 pounds and has arthritis and needs ear medicine and is depressed. I know how he feels, being a bit overweight myself and having all kinds of aches and pains. Who wouldn't be depressed?

Actually, he seems quite happy to us. He loves everyone. Wants to jump in the car and ride every time we go out in the front yard.

Compared to our granddog, Princess Buttercup, he is rather comatose.

We've been walking him several times a day and feeding him very lightly. I bet if he dropped a few pounds, that arthritis would clear right up.

Moses likes cats we are told, but you wouldn't know that by the reaction of our cats. They have all locked themselves in various rooms upstairs and refuse to come down. There is one crunching food under the sofa right now, after Chris kicked her out of his room.

Tippy has just come out from under the sofa to get a look at the large, panting behemoth sleeping in the middle of her playground. This should be interesting.

College Boy Comes Home

We've had our college boy home for a week now. Things have been pretty chill. He seems to be handling the lifestyle change OK. It only took 4 days to do all the laundry. We haven't figured out yet what food to buy and how much. I hope we will get it right soon.

I noticed a barricade of shoe and other boxes in front of his door. Then I noticed that all of his pillows and blankets and sheets were in the laundry room. Hmmm I thought. This can't be good. Better investigate.

I stood in front of the barricade when the door was open and leaned into the room. "What's up with the boxes?", I inquired in a non-scolding voice. "Don't want those cats in here." The feral kittens I presume. "One of them pooped on my bed." "And you had to take all the pillows off, too?" "Yes, he peed too." Oh dear. "It was Tux", he said. I said maybe it was Pepper, who has pooped under our bed a couple of times to punish us for bringing those horrid kittens into the house. No, he said, Tux was in here for a long time with the door closed. "I'm sorry about that. You sure the cats won't just hop over these boxes?" Grrrr.

It took another 3 days to do all of the bed-related laundry.

Tonight Paul made cheeseburgers for him. "Mom, where's the ketchup?" Hmmm, that might be a problem. "Bottom door shelf", I said hopefully.

He's in his room packing now. Life is better in Blacksburg where they have an unlimited supply of ketchup.

Politics and World Affairs

are not covered by this blog.

Tippy approached me about getting into the blog scene. "How do I get started?", she said.

Here are two tips. Don't sit on the computer. Get some thumbs so you can type.


Often when I work on my computer, Tippy helps and with her help I have recently sent out a number of interesting messages. Samples:

"I hope to see you soon.

Janet2222222222222222222222"

And

"Please let me know how much it will cosm548233 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx kkky34567"

Tippy likes to pick a letter or number and really let it have a star turn. Kind of like Sesame Street.

Right now I am watching Washington Journal on C-Span. This is the show where a question is given for callers to comment on. Questions such as should Guantanamo be closed, should GM be bailed out, should there be an investigation of torture, what kind of dog should the Obamas get? Some of the callers are so stupid that you have to wonder how they dialed the phone. Today's topic is the White House Correspondent's dinner last night. It's hard to take seriously any caller who contends that our president has no sense of humor. Dang, that's why I voted for him. Anybody who can say "wassup homey" and look and sound so good saying it is OK by me.

hold on, Tippy wants to say something:

ddjkajwfih238y52ym28yt3q8rfkvnjujfehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjfQOD

sEE YOU LATER HOMIES

Tux Steps Out

oh yeah, I'd call this progress.