MFA Mama

back

   Okay, so here is the deal now that I am done freaking out about it/going on hiatus.

   I no longer work for the erstwhile Job #1. It's absolutely fucking outrageous how that came to pass, so outrageous in fact that I think I'd better not run my mouth about it on the record, even pseudonymously. There is rather a lot of money at stake in certain...investigations...and I'm going to let that all shake out before I comment in any way. There are stories to tell though, oh yes there are.

   I have filed for Unemployment, but am hoping to have another job in place before I'd receive anything through that (there's a brief waiting period). I have one more paycheck coming, and a couple of bucks on the one after that (but nothing to write home about), and I've picked up work for this Saturday and next Saturday via Temp Agency #1. We're okay for the rent, the electricity, groceries for the next week, and the next bottle of Prograf. After that, I don't know. Hotter's eye surgery, sadly, is canceled, and I have NO idea how I'll afford my Pristiq (Synthroid and Symbicort are cheap and I can go without Mirapex and Nexium, although I'd prefer not to obviously).

   To add to my enjoyment of the above, the MFA Beater has been suffering grave mechanical issues, and was briefly unfuckingdriveable. I almost called out on my last day of work because of it, but managed to flog it downtown. Immediately after the shit hit the fan, I picked up a couple of applications within walking distance of the Hotel California (as we will start calling my now-previous employer), since I was already downtown, then barely got the fucking thing home. In a way this was good, as the workout I got (equivalent to a Stairmaster on low--think LOTS of revving the gas and stomping the clutch) kept me from getting emotional in any way until I was home. Today Hotter took a ratchet set and his feelings outside and rendered the Beater functional again by the skin of its teeth, so that's good.

   What else? Bumpus ran away. He slipped past Big Child, ran outside as if to greet the XY, who was here picking the kids up for dinner visitation, and just kept going. He was MIA for two hours. MICROCHIP YOUR PETS, Y'ALL. Now he's back, mysteriously damp and in need of a bath, and I have fond memories of being screamed at by my ex-husband on my front lawn to mull over when I wake up from tonight's round of nightmares in a cold sweat (yeah, HIIIII ANXIETY DREAMS).

   I'm trying to look on the bright side here. While the circumstances suck, I'm reconnecting with my kids in ways I haven't been able to in months and months due to work obligations. We're eating meals together as a family again, and thanks to the garden and beasts of Squatter Workshop, so far everyone/thing in the household has had enough to eat. If I were capable of timetravel I'd go back and kiss myself, with TONGUE, for getting rabbits. One fluffy-fryer only yields as much human-grade meat as a large commercial chicken breast, but its' giblets and trimmed skeleton yield three days' worth of meat for Isis, who would otherwise be subsisting on supermarket eggs about now (our four geriatric hens only produce enough backyard eggs for human consumption--we keep "dog eggs" in the fridge and crack one into each bowl of kibble we serve Bumpus to encourage him to eat more and help keep weight on him) given that she's a speshul preshus snowflake who's allergic to grains (including rice--WTF, ISIS?). So that's good. And finally, while I will miss those amazing benefits forever, working for the Hotel California was starting to take a toll on my mental health, and had been for a while. I won't go so far as to say I'm glad their underhandedness and illegal machinations forced a parting of the ways, but I'll admit to a certain amount of relief that it's OVER.

   Also, while life is sucking a fat one currently, I have some truly amazing friends, who have plied me with funny animal pictures and ratchet extensions, YA lit for my Kindle via Amazon and grocery money via PayPal (ain't technology grand?), sound advice and commiseration. Thanks for being awesome, everyone. Y'all know who you are.

   This too shall pass, like a kidney stone, slow and painful. ONWARD!

   And how are all of YOU?

 

dandelions

   I was going to do a post about compost today, but I was off work, and feeling lazy, and couldn't be arsed to find my phone to take the photos for it.

   Which is really too bad, because our compost this year is really amazing stuff and I can't wait to see the veggies it'll grow! 

   Instead, I'll simply say that I love, love, LOVE the humble dandelion. We have them all over our yard, and a couple of pots planted for human consumption as well, and every single creature here (excepting the betta fish, who are strict pelletarians) eats the SHIT out of them. I pick the greens for the rabbits and chickens at Squatter Workshop, I chop them into Isis's BARF diet dinners and put them in the cockatiel's clothespin-feeder, I eat them in salads and soups, along with their flowers...they're tasty (if you pick them before they flower--DON'T PICK THE LEAVES OF DANDELIONS THAT HAVE ALREADY FLOWERED, THEY'RE BITTER AND GROSS), super-nutritious, plentiful, and FREE! I have even, thank you Belinda, started putting dandelions in my smoothies. And last Summer's home-canned dandelion syrup is still delicious on (GF for me) pancakes.

   Yay, dandelions!

   And how are all of YOU?

something nice

   Sometimes physical work until one cannot do any more is just the thing.

   Last night at work I dug deep and did what I thought was impossible, because Good Boss said that if I got EVERYTHING done, I didn't have to come in today. I am talking clearing a ballroomfull of furniture, and a second smaller room, SINGLEHANDEDLY, after serving two groups of people two separate meals in same and cleaning everything that involved off of said furniture. Considering that at one point I was bedbound for the better part of two years that boggles my mind; I may feel rather put-upon what with all of the current coughing and wheezing, and I may have sounded awful doing it, but I was ABLE to do all of that, lump-foot and all.

   Today I slept in (until almost ten!) then worked outside. I weeded and dug and hoed. I transplanted perennial herbs from pots (parsley and thyme) into my herb bed, and from the herb bed (catnip and oregano) into pots to give as gifts. I tended the lemon balm and rosemary just taking off in the ground. I transplanted lots more strawberries and pulled dandelions for the hens and bunnies.

   When it was too hot to work outside, during the heat of the day, I came inside and cleaned up a little and found a CVS gift card I'd lost ages ago, and was able to use that to fill the Symbicort and start using that again (hopefully my lungs will get their act together before another round of antibiotics and steroid taper come into play, or the Symbicort will at least slow their rate of decline, because I can't afford that until Friday at the earliest).

   I then butchered two rabbits and broke them down into filets and "bunnybacon" to freeze and grind when there's enough for chili, rear leg chops (those went into the soup pot still on the bone with grassfed oxtails from less than twenty miles away that I've had in the freezer for a while, and simmered with salt, pepper, oregano, thyme, rosemary, carrot peel, green onions, and onion peel until the broth had good color then the pot went into the fridge--tomorrow I'll skim, strain, pick, chop, and add veggies to the broth, including a ridiculously gorgeous leek from the front yard, and we'll have Brunswick Stew), and front and rear stripped backs for Isis's BARF-diet meals (half a stripped rabbit is meat enough to make a meal for her; add some chopped veg and a spoon of coconut oil or a couple of egg yolks and she's a happy girl).

   Then I cut Hotter's hair and beard, which had gotten ridiculous, and then the MFA Children came home tired and smelling of chlorine from the pool at the XY's hotel* and we put them to bed and I took a long, hot shower. 

   Tonight, despite my worries, I will snuggle up to my husband and our rotten dog and sleep well for the second night in a row out of sheer exhaustion born of productivity, and that feels really nice.

 

*   The XY's house burned to the ground Thursday night, apparently. He was at CATHERINE's place at the time, and the boys were home with Hotter and me, thank the odds, so nobody died, and fortunately no pets were housed there either. I am uncharitable enough to suspect that this is just a wee bit too fortunate for the XY, actually (Hotter introduced me to the term "Jewish lightning," which is derogatory and I don't much care for it, but...that), but it may be that I am just a huge bitch and this was an accident...the excellent homeowners' insurance is, at any rate, putting the XY up in an extended-stay hotel where he only goes with the boys that has an indoor pool and free hot breakfast every day, and the kids are sad about the house (particularly their video game memory cards) but enjoying the novelty of the hotel.

well, hey, alright

*   After three and a half hours' restless sleep, I greeted a puking tween, a rampant hound, a cranky husband and an empty fridge with steely resolve, poured the contents of the French press into the contents of the strawberry kefir bottle, and shook it, like a boss, all "bring it, Tuesday." on the facespace.

*   I gathered up the coupons and hit Kroger. A family-size bag of organic chicken nuggets, two steamable veggie bags, half a gallon of organic milk, eight yogurts, two Larabars, and a dozen and a half Bumpus-eggs ended up costing me $15. Whoo, savings! As an added bonus, I taught Little Child how to pick from the garden to feed Clementine greens for free.

*   Then I went and put all of the rabbits (that can be safely handled, IDEN) out to graze in their various pens and shelters. And did some work in the garden. And chased a stray rabbit all over creation (I hate Haas almost as much as Iden today).

*   My generous customer came back! He was as he usually is, and other than that work was pretty slow, but it all evened out.

*   All in all today was good, despite a rough start. Maybe tonight I'll get some actual sleep and tomorrow I'll conquer the world! How are all of YOU?

mishpocheh

8:30 a.m. Eastern Time

Anonymous Friend: I HATE EVERYTHING!
How are YOU?
:P

MFA Mama: I hate quite a bit. Let's bitch.

AF: My SO has been traveling for a week and I have five animals to care for.

MFA Mama: *wince*

AF: I am not an animal person.

MFA Mama: Bahaha.

AF: They're all kind of wacky and demanding animals, too.

MFA Mama: I dislike animals currently as well.

AF: That is really what I hate the most followed closely by my insomnia.

MFA Mama: Word.

AF: You have a lot more animals to hate, I would imagine.

MFA Mama: Seventeen rabbits, four chickens, two dogs, a cockatiel, a bearded dragon, and two betta-fish, currently.
And ALL of them assholes!

AF: I'm not even sure I know what a bearded dragon IS!

MFA Mama: It's a great stonking lizard. The object of my youngest's affections and the acquisition of his gross little dreams.
Also: an asshole.
It rips its lizard-hammock (Godiva help me that I even know what that IS, much less own one) down daily, tears the bark off its shade-log, requires daily chopped salads from a proscribed list of veggies and twice-weekly live crickets...

AF: Wow.
For the record, having parrots is much the same.

MFA Mama: It takes big bird-like shits and can JUMP.

AF: They scream, they yell, they require frequent water changes because they have delicate immune systems, blah blah blah...

MFA Mama: Oh, and if it's constipated you have to run it a warm bath and let it crap in your tub, then bleach the tub, burn the house down, and move because they carry salmonella.

AF: WHAT OH MY GOD WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP THOSE AS A PET?

MFA Mama: They're charming creatures. Want one?

AF: I do not need any more pets in our tiny abode!

MFA Mama: Clementine's alright, I guess, just needy like every other damn thing alive in these parts.

AF: I share a really small space with these birds.

MFA Mama: The lactating rabbits are thirsty, the chickens smell and also need water, the hound whines early for having to pee, an hour before the middle-school bus because DST, at the correct time too because YAY WHINE, at mealtimes...
the pitbull is a bedhog
The cockatiel's treats are recalled and need to be returned to the store; they're mocking me in their bag. Actually, I think they were contaminated (or possibly contaminated) with salmonella, haaaa!
The 10,000 or so (currently) bees will soon require an expensive thingamajig in which to make honey...

AF: Wow.
I'm going to try to go back to sleep...I have A Thing in three hours, and the birds will need water changes, and UGH.

MFA Mama: Good luck with that. The hound woke me at six, we have a lunch-date, and then later I'm getting stabbed in the arm with a needle for an hour by a big scary dude for fun. I think maybe I am doing Days Off wrong?

AF: Yes, I am doing weekends similarly. 

beastly bullets

*   The day after we brought Clementine home, Hotter and I made a PetSmart run to get Little Child a book on the care and feeding of Bearded Dragons. While there, we also picked up a bag of crickets, some vitamins and supplements to keep Clementine healthy, and a new "basking tree" because Hotter's inner interior decorator was insistent that the homemade platform her previous owner had constructed HAD to go. We brought everything home, put the "tree" in Clementine's tank, and watched her crouch at the base of it, looking waaaaaay up. "D'ya think she'll be able to climb that thing?" I asked dubiously. Clementine studied the tree, the way a cat will study the top of a refrigerator, then leapt easily onto the topmost branch. LIZARDS CAN JUMP??? Holy shit.

*   The hens are laying again, all four of them! Hooray!

*   Iden the carnivorous killer-rabbit continues to be vicious and misanthropic. She also, however, gave birth to a litter of six the night before I'd planned to butcher her, so she gets a pass for at least six weeks. DAMMIT. After that she goes, though. She's just terribly vicious and untameable (I tried to befriend her once again, with romaine leaves and apple slices, but the moment I went to pet her the way the other rabbits like to be petted, she went for me).

*   Bumpus is doing much better in general than he has in ages, but he still goes into frenzied paroxysms of noise when the middle school bus is due to deliver his lord and master home. Clementine disapproves of this, and does pushups of reptilian fury. Hotter and I decided that this indicates she is a higher form of life than Bumpus, but then so, in our estimation, are certain species of blue-green algae.

*   Hotter divides the animal kingdom into two main groups "Things that like to be pet [sic]" and things that do NOT "like to be pet [I have given up correcting his English; it's become a running joke in our house to say this phrase incorrectly]. The day we got Isis, Hotter looked up at me in ecstasy and exclaimed "she likes to be PET!" (the cockatiel SOMETIMES likes to be pet, but not enough to fill the animal-hole in Hotter's heart). Hotter has decided that Clementine likes to be pet. I'm not sure if Clementine agrees, but she at least tolerates it. Iden? DOES NOT MOTHERFUCKING LIKE TO BE PET. The jury is still out on the disabled vulture at the local zoo who stole my heart a couple of years ago. I have a fantasy menagerie, you see, of various creatures I have fallen in love with and requested that Hotter find and bring to me at various times. It includes a domesticated fox, the vulture, eyebrow cat, and various others. I really do think that vulture would like to be pet.

*   And how are all of YOU? My enter key is broken, but otherwise I'm okay. Please excuse any horrible spacing. The spacebar is a sad substitute, but I simply cannot bring myself to deal with all of India over the phone on such a beautiful day. Oh, Dell :(

bullets of indignation

*   What the HELL, Google? What happened to "don't be evil?" TAKING GOOGLE READER AWAY IS PRETTY FUCKING EVIL.

*   I hate it when the XY has to pay child support on a Friday. Because he hands the check over AFTER banks are closed, and then I either have to get up super-early on a Saturday to cash and then deposit the check, or not write any checks Thursday or Friday and be okay with waiting until Tuesday or so to buy groceries (not this week). Yes, he could make my life easier by paying in cash or certified funds, but why WOULD he?

*   I have been eating...a lot. No DietBet ongoing plus feelings plus living with a chef plus working with a chef equals FATTY FATTY NECK-ROLL! That all stops now though, because I rolled my DietBet winnings into a new game. You can join us, if you like.

*   Work, drama, rinse, repeat, blahhhh.

*   What is it with boys and...unwholesome...choices in pets? Little Child has been pining for a pet that he can interact with (since Iden the killer-bunny is a carnivorous bitch). His first choice was a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach. NOOOOOOOOOOO DEAR GOD NO NOT JUST NO BUT FUCK YOU AND NEVER GAHHHHH!!! Hotter foolishly pointed out that they are cheap to feed and harmless, and I suggested that he move back in with his mother and take Little Child and any hypothetical hissing cockroach (seriously, who hears "hissing cockroach" and WANTS ONE?) with him, because OBVIOUSLY. JESUS. Unbeknownst to Little Child, Hotter and I will be spending Sunday morning picking up his SECOND choice of vile familiar. I am...not enthused about this creature. Apparently it will fill a terrifyingly-shaped hole in Little Child's boyish heart, however, and it doesn't have six legs, so I will be thankful for small mercies and clear a spot for its' cage in the den. Photos to come!

*   It's beautiful outside, but too wet to garden, still. I think all of the seeds I previously planted drowned in the ground, which may be just as well as I forgot my self-imposed ban on drunk-planting and may not have planned or spaced things correctly, but STILL.

*   I have definitely caught Middle Child's Sickness of Filth, and it is definitely a virus. Because he still sounds every bit as revolting after two days on a strong antibiotic as he ever did, and the symptoms are identical, and the drops haven't helped my eyes a bit either. Booooo, virus. Boo. And I have to work until midnight. FANCY!

*   How are all of YOU?

things I hate

*   The hens at Squatter Workshop have gotten really spoiled. Lately, I've been waiting tables at one of my jobs quite a bit and have been able to hang a plastic bag from the tray-jack holding the dirty-dish tray in the server station and scrape plates into that for the hens. They have therefore become accustomed to my coming home with plastic bags filled with fish-skins, and the fourth quarters of club sandwiches, and the fat off of steaks, and leftover pasta with cream sauce, and any number of other things that chickens find delicious. Last night, however, I was NOT waiting tables at work, and the hens raised such a furious ruckus when I got home and gave them a scoop of chicken feed that I finally went back to the house and put some kitchen leftovers into a plastic shopping bag from Kroger to fake them out, then took that down there to shut them up. IT WORKED. I hate chickens :)

*   I also hate rabbits, mostly because they don't grasp simple concepts like cause and effect. As in, "if I rattle the water bottle with my teeth instead of drinking from it and chew the cord holding it up, it will fall off the side of the cage and I will get VERY THIRSTY." That one goes right over Iden's head. Unless maybe she's approaching it from the angle of "if I rattle the water bottle with my teeth instead of drinking from it and chew the cord holding it up, bitch will stick her hand within biting range and I can get me some sweet, sweet mamaflesh, YUM!" and is an evil genius. Either way? HATE.

*   The clinic over at the elementary school sent Middle Child home for suspected pinkeye the day before yesterday, despite my assertion that what he had going on was viral in nature. I took him from school to Urgent Care where they said they really thought it would look worse if it was true bacterial pinkeye, but would give Middly some antibiotic ointment to placate the school just in case (and yes, I got some drops for myself). Middly subsequently developed a revolting cough-snuffle-hack thing, and despite his normal temperature and assertions that he felt "FINE!" I took him to the pediatrician today, because my ex has dinner-visitation tonight and I do NOT want to hear about how I am neglecting a sickness. His temperature was normal and they said they didn't think he'd really ever had pinkeye at all but rather a virus. They did, however, agree with me that he SOUNDS revolting and is probably well on his way to a secondary bacterial infection, and put him on Augmentin, which means no more eye ointment needed even if he DID ever have pinkeye. So that's good I guess. Meanwhile the school clinic hadn't returned my call from the day before yesterday asking when Middly could come back to school, so I called them back. "I think I owe you an apology," said the clinician, "we've had a lot of children APPEAR to have pinkeye but turn out to have a virus lately, and you can bring him back any time." I hate the school clinic.

*   Who or what do YOU hate today?

bite

   Remember the beast I mentioned hating down at Squatter Workshop?

   I've been thinking about the whole "to slaughter or not to slaughter" question. On one hand, I don't want to slaughter a creature JUST because I don't like it. On the other hand, I don't want my awareness of the ethics of the situation to give an unpleasant and unproductive creature a free pass, because that makes bad farm-sense.

   Last night Hotter and I went to Squatter Workshop together to do the evening chores. We counted the rabbit kits (you have to do this daily for the first couple of weeks, because if one dies you need to get it OUT of the nest), of which there are still nine (although there is now a clear runt that is less than half the size of the others, and I expect that it'll die off in the next couple of days--I've gone so far as to milk Pfeffer by hand and syringe-feed these runts in the past and they always die anyway, so I think they're runts because something is wrong with them inside and have taken a zero-intervention stance on runts even if they do tug at my heart), and fed and watered everyone.

   The beast I told y'all about pressed her face to the bars repeatedly as if looking for affection. Haas and Pfeffer will do that, and they enjoy a good petting. Remembering Jay's comment, I wondered if maybe said critter was just mean because it had developed bad associations around being touched (we aren't cruel to beasts out there, but said animal has a history of fertility issues and has therefore had the extended belly-grope that serves as a crude pregnancy test more than average due to numerous failed breedings; I don't remember such gropings during my own pregnancies as unpleasant but then I knew what was going on).

   "Are you just misunderstood?" I asked the beast, and went to rub her face with my finger.

   Reader, she bit the living SHIT out of me.

   This is the first time a rabbit has caused me injury with its teeth (the other wounds this one has inflicted were from claws), and given that the MFA Children like to feed the rabbits treats of pulled grass and dandelion greens...well. If it made ME bleed I don't like to contemplate what it would have done to one of Little Child's wee dimple-knuckled fingers.

   The decision just got a whole lot easier, although I plan to wait until it's been thirty-two days since the critter's last breeding JUST IN CASE. 

RBOC (tm Brigindo)

*   I have surpassed my goal for the DietBet! WHOOOOO TITS!

*   To celebrate, MyFitnessPal automatically adjusted my goals and took away eighty calories per day. I'm kind of bummed about that, but when I went to manually dick around with the settings there was this warning about how one shouldn't do that without the advice of a professional, and I don't want to die, so I guess MyFitnessPal wins this round.

*   HEY DID YOU SEE THAT? I SAID I DON'T WANT TO DIE! That's a major improvement over all of last week, so that's good.

*   The rabbits are eating me out of house and home! Pfeffer's nine kits have all survived thus far, and she's eating a TON to keep up with their needs milkwise. I think Iden is pregnant (for some reason she is very difficult to palpate, maybe because she's so full of hate that her muscles tense up? I can always tell with Pfeffer but felt Iden up the day before she gave birth and swore she wasn't even pregnant, so I don't dare call it one way or the other two weeks post-breeding with her), and the last two fatties from her first litter are still hanging around munching away. I need to do something about that this weekend.

*   Hotter is sick again. Nothing major, just a man-cold and a stiff neck, but you'd think he was panhandling for boat-fare on the banks of the River Styx to look at him.

*   I think I'm still a little emotionally bankrupt from the events of last week. Nothing like when my ex famously announced he was "out of sympathy" and had me call a cab to get myself to the hospital when we thought I was dying (a.k.a. The Moment I Stopped Loving That Guy), but my inner Florence Nightengale made a very rude hand-gesture when Hotter announced he wasn't feeling well this morning.

*   I at least am feeling okay physically, and think I have managed to fight off my Cold of Filth without needing medical intervention, WHICH IS HUGE. I'm still coughing, and probably will be until April or thereabouts, but oh well.

*   There was DRAMA at work last night! I love a good round of workplace drama when I'm not involved! Whee!

*   I should go and do something productive with the rest of this day off, I guess. Like maybe the dishes. How are all of YOU?