Mr. Fox Times Three

The first Mr. Fox is Ned's acting debut was quite cute.  He was Farmer Boggess in the 2nd grade production of "The Fabulous Mr. Fox."  We had to have an unexpected intermission, because the other farmer fell off the stage.  He bravely returned and the show went on. 

The second Mr. Fox is this horrible fox that terrorizes my property, MY property.  He has a route that involves my yard.  He drinks out of the pool and poops on the deck.  Two nights ago he was making that scary fox noise under my window and digging a hole.  I turned the light on and he just stared at me saying "nanny nanny."  In the fall he chased my kitten up a tree and wouldn't back off, even when I stomped at him.  He is belligerent  and aggressive and I wish he would find a different territory.

The third Mr. Fox was the fox who had this territory before this evil critter.  He was no bother.  We would see him mornings and evenings, but he didn't come in the backyard.  He got hit by a car right by the house.  I was sad to see him gone.

I have a dog, a useless labrador.  I think it is no coincidence that Hoover is yellow, the big chicken-liver.  Riley walked the perimeter of his yard and marked it every morning.  No animals came in our yard while he was alive.  Hoover just doop-de-doops out in the yard.  He didn't even bark at the fox, when I came down he was sleeping on his bed.  The cats were freaked, but Hoov was lounging.  Hoover is such a Ferdinand.  It is nice to have a lover and not a fighter when you are feeling sad and lonely, but I do wish he would give a little growl at that fox.

Bookss, Books and More Books

I have been in a rough spell this week.  I have spiraled down-hill to an old lady.  I don't really want to find a tumor, but I would like some kind of answer.  I haven't been able to do much of anything.  It has been bothering me that I don't have a book.  I seriously have read every book in my house, not even having an option was bothering me.  I had gone to the bookstore twice last week, but just couldn't pick out a title.   Yesterday, very cautiously, Ian and I went back to B&N.  I bought eight books, this is wild and crazy!  Luckfully for me, my friend Amanda popped over last night with a pile of books to borrow.  I stacked all the books next my bed and it made me so happy.  I need that pile of books on my bedside table.  I am having trouble reading quite truthfully, so this will keep me for awhile.  I will be adding the states of Pennsylvania, Vermont and Illinois when I get going. 

Last night, Neddy had me read one of our favorite books, Cockatoos by Roald Dahhl.  He told me I "read it the best", he knows how to butter me up.

Taylor and Kate

For two weeks only,  I want to be Taylor Swift.  I want to be twenty-ish, annoyingly beautiful and have the "perfect" life.   I would stand on stage and make the nauseous "who me" expression, because I can do it every time winsomely.  I want to try on everything in her closet and pirouette around the house having every piece of clothing fit and drape perfectly.   In fact I would go into every store and try on expensive clothes and cowboy boots.  I want to comb my beautiful, long, blond hair and have everything I do to it look fabulouso.  Really truly what I want to do is play the guitar and sing.  I want to look cool and sit around soulfully strumming.  All the notes, chords, whatever would not sound anything like my singing.  I would know what I was doing and could play country, blues, rock'n'roll and I would belt it out with full amp.  I would call cool people to play/sing with me,  I am Taylor Swift so I assume they will do it.

After my two weeks is over I want to be Kate Middleton.  I would like to be her for the similar shallow clothes, hair experience.  I would love to be her for all the culture she can take advantage of unlimited.  Think of the history, galleries, jewels, museums, private homes, plays and museums she has access to with no crowds or personal inconvenience.  It would be nice to have servants and personal, understated luxury - assumed luxury.  I could order up a prepared meal anytime of the day.  Jeeves, bring me a chocolate chip cookie. Oh, to have high tea served everyday.  Jeeves, this is Kate, get me tickets to the Taylor Swift concert.  I like to think her life will go easier than Diane's.

On Tuesday, I am going to a book group that is discussing Elizabeth, the First by Sally Bedell Smith.  The author will be at the book group.  I haven't read it, but will enjoy the presentation.

Farts

This post is for my kids.  I am always telling them to talk about something else, but it never works.  I am trying to decide if I should take Hoover to the emergency room for the terrible gas that he has.  Maybe I should take myself to the emergency room for the terrible gas he has.  It is truly noxious.  He is so happily snoring away or I would kick him out of my room.   I switched him to organic food to help with this enormous problem, but I think it made things worse.  I might have to see what cheapo grocery store kibble does, at least I wouldn't be spending as much for this air pollution.

Cats don't really fart much.  Sometimes if you accidentally squeeze them they may do a little poot, but they are much more dignified than dogs.  It could be they have better waste processing systems.  Whatever the reason, it is definitely a plus for felines over canines.

In kindergarten all the kids brought in a favorite book.  Ned took in "The Gas We Pass".  I am always THAT mom.

Yesterday at lunch the person next to me did a big fart and just acted like he didn't.  Ew, it does ruin lunch a little bit.  When Teri and I were at a fancy restaurant in AZ a women farted long and loudly in the restaurant.  Not once as whoops, but twice as a who the hell cares.  Well I care, because I got the giggles. I just couldn't stop laughing.

The kids have been watching some Youtube videos where guys pretend to fart on people in Walmart.  It is so incredibly rude and also hysterical.  It is a good laugh until they almost get beat up by guy totally offended by someone farting on his wife.

I fart in your general direction.

I Don't Know

Thing 2 is always asking me these crazy questions and I end up saying, "I don't know."  I say this frequently and it drives him nuts.  He wants me to know the answer and I don't. I usually don't know the answer for anything, having a brain tumor really messed with my information recall.   Anyway, last night Ian asked, 

If people had feathers and cats had feathers, who would fly better?

How do I answer this? Do I just pick one?  Do I use up limited brain resource and ponder it?  I try to dodge, by telling him neither one has feathers.  "Well, what if?"  Okay, Ian, cats would fly better, because they do everything better.  "But what if people had bigger wings?"

Would you rather marry Bon Jovi or Bono?

Hmmm, this deserves an "I don't know" because I don't want to limit my options.  He wants a definitive answer.  He also doesn't like when I give a positive for both options.  He wants an answer.   Then he asks why don't I get married?  "I don't know."  He gets really frustrated so I told him, "because I have cancer."  His response is "good point.........who would you rather marry Bon Jovi or Bono?"  I finally tell him Bono, because I have liked him since I was 17..........but Bon Jovi is so handsome and nice.  "Would you live in Ireland?"  Ugh, I don't know!

Add all this to routine questions of:

Where are my shoes, where's the milk, where is my bag of M&M's that had one M&M left,  why are you late, why are we early, how do you know, why not, what for, how come, do I really, you won't let me, you want me to eat that, can I go, can I stay, are we there yet, if I only had 3 toes would I still wear socks?

I DON'T KNOW!