Big Anniversary Gift this Year

The Handsome One and I continue to celebrate our anniversary with a gift for us.  This year we went EXPENSIVE, not because we are flamboyant or because it's our 29th.  Necessity stepped in.

  

See, the furnace was making strange noises.  We consulted a Heating and Cooling guy who assured us that the old furnace was about to blow.

 

 Well, he didn't express it quite so dramatically.  He did tell us that it was IMPORTANT that we get a carbon monoxide detector because the likelihood that the ailing furnace would try to kill us was real.

Some members of the household were unconcerned.

Others took it less well.  Indeed, for some, stress set in.  Even to the point of frequent checks on CO levels.  Just because the CO detector gadget kept reading zero, didn't mean it would remain zero. 

Clearly, this was a Canary in the Mineshaft scenario.  With a wait of some three weeks before the new furnace was to be installed, hyper vigilance set in.  Someone even turned the furnace down to 59 so it would run less.

Finally, the big day came.  It took several hours to install.  The installer guy said the new furnace would be quieter.  Technically, that is true.  However, there is a distinct and high-pitched hum present in the quiet.

The jury is still out on whether the new high-pitched hum is less pleasant than that three weeklong high pitch of somebody's I'm Afraid of the Furnace whine.

When a New Member Joins the Pack

It's not always a smooth nor peaceful transition. 

I've had it up to here with that brat.  She is too damned friendly.

She jumps on me and slobbers.

We don't like her.

You monsters might recall how Lois suffered.

We weren't that bad.

Besides, Lois was a saint.

Lois's sainthood is not the issue.   We are talking about the Hazel problem.

 


  I've been growling and stuff.  She's not afraid of me!  Why is nobody afraid of me?!















Let us ask ourselves.

  What Would Lois Do?

A Public Service Announcement

Lily offers a few thoughts for today, Thursday March 29, 2018.

Spring is the time to get your blood test for heart worm.  It doesn't hurt!  Well, hardly at all. The Vet Techs are nice.

Springtime means the ground gets soft and your people become agitated about MUD.  There is nothing you can do about it.  Your best bet is to cooperate when they want to wipe your feet.  Trust me on this.

Today is Opening Day in Detroit.

Go get em Tigers!

Thank you.  Good bye for now.

The Case of the Missing Turkey

Do you know anything about the missing turkey?

What missing turkey?

You were seen.

That wasn't me.

Who was it?

This is a frame up!

Do you think it's a frame up too?

I can't talk with my mouth full.  Oh wait. I mean, no comment.

You just drove the getaway car, is that it?

In a manner of speaking.  I mean, no comment.

What was your cut?

Badgering the witness!

Say, is that turkey grease on your chin?

Who squealed?  The rabbit?  Eh, probably not, he's too busy with his riffs.

I'll bet it was that double crossing rat!

He got his cut.  I knew he couldn't be trusted!  Er, nothing.  Never mind.

I know.  It was that yellow bellied feathered freak!

He sang like a canary, didn't he?

I going out for some lunch.  You want anything?

No thanks.  I'm not hungry.

A Glowing Anniversary

To celebrate our anniversary, The Handsome One and I usually buy something nifty just for us.  Past purchases include a digital camera, a couch and a Don't Tread on Me flag.  This year, we bought a super duper flashlight.

You see, those scrawny flashlights that serve just fine indoors are of no use to illuminate the woods surrounding the homestead. So we got this fantabulous LED flashlight with ergonomic pistol grip to handle the job.

Now Lily has some gleaming back up.  Those ugly accusations of her being all bark at the dark, will see the light of day, so to speak.  Now, what-the-heck-she-is-barking-at will be on full brilliant display.  Yes, if something is lurking, it will be in our spot light.

What is glowing out there?  It's the little oak!

Lily has prepared a statement.

I wasn't barking at the oak tree, for crying out loud.  Tell you what.  I'll keep barking.  You keep waving your fancy flashlight around.  Together, maybe we can dispel the darkness surrounding us.  Don't let my life's work be in vain.  I'm counting on your collaboration here.

OK Lily.  We got the power of brightness and aren't afraid to use it.  Check out this wall mounted holster!  Team Effulgent is ever at the ready. 


Besides the young oak tree, what have we gleamed upon so far, you ask?


Well, the awesome flashlight has illuminated a couple of deer, and an assorted bunch of nothing. One night though, there was something skulking under a pine tree near the duck house.  With trepidation, I cocked and aimed the super flashlight expecting to behold the evil visage of my nemesis, The Fisher.

It was only a opossum.  A benign presence.  This time...

Next time may be of a different light...

They're Back and So is My Cussing Habit

For the past several years, I have made a sincere effort to reduce my swearing.  It has gone fairly well- most of the time.  Then there are times when the effects of outside forces negatively effect my peace of mind.  After that, an explosion of bad words flow like a waterfall down a sheer cliff.

 

The latest cussed avalanche began when after a short time strolling around the grounds, Lois sported over a dozen hanger-ons.  My initial response was to yell, "I will kill you!"  Then collecting the tools to do the job, I continued, "I will **** kill you!"

Henry too, was tick ridden.  Tweezers poised, I exclaimed, "you ***** tick bastards!  You will die a **** horrible death!"

 

 

 

 

After removal from their unwilling hosts, the ticks were dropped into a deadly alcohol bath.  "Die!  Die!  Die!  You evil ****  ****!"

 

 

Later, as the Tick Killer was showering, the swearing increased considerably.   "How dare you!  You ****!" 

Two ticks were upon my body.  Gripping them between my thumb and finger, I stepped out of the shower, dripping all over the floor.  Seizing a pair of cuticle scissors, I cut each tick in half and then in half again.

"Take that, you **** parasitical ****!"

The bathroom nightmare wasn't over, though.  Soon, a horrible discovery.  There was a tick nestled between my toes.   "Ahhrrgggh!  ****!  You are not welcome here, ***** !"  

This tick too, was cut in half and in half again.  "I will kill you all!  You, and all your **** brethren!  **** ***** *****!!"

Lois, the voice of reason, suggests that the ducks be called upon to dispatch the ticks at ground level.

If needed, wild reinforcements are also at the ready.

OK, birds.  Get out there and kill, kill, **** kill.