Little Mysteries

A few strange, maybe just “odd”, things happened this last weekend. (Depending on exactly how you define “weekend”. If you really want to be a stickler about it, it was Friday and Saturday.)

Friday I had to go grocery shopping. That’s not the strange part, so don’t jump to conclusions. When I got back, Nicki (the Little Woman’s dog) had a gash on her nose. More her snout (or “muzzle”) really, about an inch back from where her nose actually is. It’s on the fur part, right on top of the snout. It looked pretty bad when I got home, all cakey with gushy, half-dried blood. But when I cleaned it up (First you clean something like that up so you can see if you have to panic or not. No sense wasting a good panic on something non-panic-worthy.) it wasn’t much. A little gash (just a little gash) on top of her snout, maybe an inch long. And the bleeding had already stopped. And it didn’t bother her.

The mysterious thing was, I couldn’t figure out what caused it. My first thought was, of course, Lucy (my dog) did it. Either a chomp or a scratch. You know, roughhousing gone bad. (It’ll end in tears!) Only, it didn’t look like a chomp or a scratch. (I’ve seen a bunch of chomps and scratches on these dogs. Both of 'em. They aren’t subtle dogs.) My next thought was she stuck her nose in something and it scratched her. Possible, considering dogs are always sticking their noses in something. But again, I’m not sure. The third theory was she (still Nicki in case you forgot) had a seizure and whacked her face into furniture. This is about as sound as any other theory. Not that I got to the bottom of things. I just cleaned her face up and smeared on a healing unguent. I thought about popping by our friendly neighborhood vet for a stitch or two, but the gash is right on top of her snout where the skin is real thin and a stitch would be more irritating than helpful, so I skipped that. I am keeping it smeared with unguent and watching for infection though. I’m not completely negligent.

Saturday afternoon when the Little Woman and I got back from getting our eyes examined (my prescription hasn’t changed strength, just my astigmatism moved around some) our back gate was all askew. This was odd. The gate was popped off its hinges and just sort of dangling there on the wire mesh that keeps the dogs in (mostly). (We have one of those split rail jobbies with wire mesh to actually do the fence-keeping-things-in part. It was like that when we moved in.) It only took a minute to swing the gate back up on the hinges (it’s two eye-hooks with a screw-in peg they sit on). Then it was all right as rain. Then we (the Little woman and I) found the neighbor’s dog’s collar right by the gate. So we figured the dog got out of her yard and tried to go under the gate and knocked it off its hinges. And we were mostly right on that little mystery. Actually both the neighbor’s dogs escaped and knocked our gate off its hinges. But no harm done and both the dogs came home a little later.

Another mysterious thing this weekend was the movie I rented. It wasn’t actually a mystery, but I’m going with a trend here. It was more a thriller. Identity. Have you seen it? Creepy. (I’m not going to give it away, even in Spoiler Boxes. But Amanda Peet spent almost the whole movie soaking wet, but it wasn’t played up all sexy-like. More the pity.)

Something completely not mysterious also happened. It was a learning experience for me. I learned I can eat a whole Sara Lee Struesel Topping Cinnamon Coffee Cake all by my self. I can do that, but I didn’t. I shared. I can also eat a whole bag of Bugles, but I knew that.

Also something not mysterious, my grass sprouted. I threw down some grass seed in the mud here and there around my yard. That was a week ago. Now the grass sprouted. So I don’t have to water mud anymore. Now I can water baby grass. Only it rained last night, so I don’t have to water my baby grass today.

P.S. This —>:dubious: is my favorite Smilie.

This —>:smack: is second.

Wow. That’s exciting about the grass. I can understand- watering mud just doesn’t sound like fun. I don’t think you could make a business out of selling lawn mud “The Fresh Muddy Look! No Waiting For Grass To Sprout!”.

Yes, I don’t think it would be a good idea.

Heh. I got here first. That’s impressive.

Snuggle the poor dog for me.

My cat’s still running headfirst into the mirror at night.

I’ve learned that Nigella Lawson cookbooks make me want to cook everything with heavy cream and bacon. Not that that’s bad, it’s just expensive, and eventually I won’t be slim and beautiful anymore. In about a week, say.

Aaaaaah, sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found you!!

Sorry - something in your tale made me want to sing!

No mysteries in my life, except the one about why no one has bought my house yet. But that’s really not that big a deal since I don’t have to be gone till May. Plus it’s really not a mystery - people want to clear the trees in the back yard, but it’s a conservation area so they can’t clear, so they don’t want to live with a measly 10’ deep back yard. Even tho there’s all kinds of neat wildlife and nature out there to observe and stuff. So I just need to find a buyer who thinks like I do - someone who enjoys looking at the trees and watching the birds and squirrels frolic.

Then there’s the mystery of why I didn’t marry a rich man. But even that’s nor really mystery - no rich man ever asked me. Not that it’s a biggie - I’m very happy with my sweetie. Money isn’t everything.

Oh, and I have baby grass too, but we’re not expecting any rain for a good while, so I turned on the sprinkler before I left this morning, and the kid was supposed to turn it off when she left. I have Baby Bermuda grass - what kind do you have?

Poor Nicki. I hope her nose feels better soon.

I am never so good as to clean first and panic later… I always go right to panic. One day my parent’s dog got his eye caught on the little metal hook that keeps their rabbit’s cage closed. Thank goodness Parallax was there! I certainly was not equipped with the faculties to unhook the dog’s eye and get him to the vet! And yet even after witnessing the wonders of me in a panic he still married me :slight_smile:

Our weekend was spent organizing the basement. We needed to get everthing that is not waterproof up off the floor in case we end up with any semblance of Isabel. Our basement likes to throw a party in a storm and it invites all the rain it possibly can. It is never a good thing when the litter boxes are floating! We’re semi prepared now and have a sump pump too. The pillar of excitement - that’s us.

Oh and we do need to plant some more grass in a couple of spots. We will wait until after the rain comes or not next weekend. Considering how much of our yard was mud when we moved in we’re winning the battle for our lawn :slight_smile:

I woulda been first in the thread today but it took me too long to post :frowning:

This is my favorite smilie → :eek:

Sounds like a great house FairyChatMom except it is in Florida! Although with the rabid attack turkies and the flower eating deer and the dog spraying skunks and the bunny under the shed I have all the wildlife I can handle right now!

I’m thinking you’ve got bears in your backyard. Everyone knows that bears live in Liberty Township (and parts of Manhattan and the swampy bits of Georgia, but we’re talking Ohio here).

No! I can’t have bears Shibb. We gave our basement bears the slip when we moved. They can’t be back, they just can’t! I mean, how would they find us? Hire a private detective (… it was early. No more than the crack of Noon. I just got finished drinking my breakfast so that made four shots in me. Two 38’s a 45 and my breakfast of Panther Sweat. That’s when she walked in, and this dame looked mean. A real bear. But she had a case for me with cash up front. What could I do but take it? The case and the cash. It’s what I do, I find things. Sometimes they want to be found, sometimes they don’t. I don’t care as long as I get my fifty a day plus expenses. I’m Luther Scoggins, Privavte Eye.)? Like that could ever happen.

Speaking of wildlife Tanook’, you know what? We don’t have squirrels areound here. It’s weird but true. No squirrels. I think the hawks have something to do about that. All in all I prefer hawks to squirrels.

And Kestrels. We have kestrels too. They are falcons, not hawks. And they’re smaller than hawks. Unless there are really small hawks. Then the kestrals might be bigger. But I wouldn’t know about that.

I’m not sure what kind of baby grass I have Snickers. It was in a bag marked “sun and shade” so it’s probably a mix of grasses. I’m hoping there’s fescue in there. I hear that’s a good grass to have, a fescue.

What does fescue look like anyway? So I could tell if I have it or not. I didn’t know there were different kinds of grass, I thought it was just… grass. As long as it turns out the right color, I’m happy. And my baby grass is coming up green, so there’s that.

Don’t worry Lissla. Even if you eat all that bacon and cream, you’ll still be beautiful. Slim? Maybe not. But beautiful? Oh yeah bay-bee!

And I think your cat might be, what they call in certain veterinarian circles, dim.
-Rue. (no shots in me!)

Parallax smokes in front of mirrors? Does Tanook’ know? Is she OK with that?

So many questions are raised by your statements lowgear. It boggles the mind. (Which could lead us back to “games” if we’re not carefull.)
-Rue. (:confused:)

Stupid smilies.
-Rue. (:confused: )

He better not be smoking in front of a mirror or anywhere for that matter!


'Nookie - off to check for smoky mirrors!

I spent my weekend playing twister. :eek: No really I did. But everyone remained clothed, and no one was over the age of thirty so all was well. Though my nephew who’s four did try to have nakey time in the middle of the game.

This amused me so much I actually snorted.

-Ellen. (posting on a Monday)

Well, the only mysterious thing that happened to me this weekend was my New Employee decided she wanted to be my New Ex-Employee. That’s right, she quit on Saturday, before her first day (she was supposed to start today). So, now here I am, a supervisor with no one to supervise. I gotta make some phone calls.

I think I want a super-visor. Enough with these regular old plain-visors. If it ain’t super, I don’t want it.

-tool (tangentally)

My mystery is that chocolate-chip (actually, it was a whole bar and I just smashed it with a hammer…what?) banana ring cake that I made on Friday somehow stopped existing.
Then again I wondered why my family greeted me with brown teeth…made them look like they have less teeth than usual…

Just how do you make a panther sweat? And how do you get it into a bottle once the panther is sweating? I don’t know about you, but I would avoid a sweating panther. You see, my full name is Kallessa Panthera, and I am rarely happy when I’m sweating, so I imagine that an actual panther would also not be a happy camper if he or she were sweating. And, (and this may just be me), I don’t want to be around an unhappy panther. A happy panther, yes, indeedy, even a mildly content panther, but not an unhappy panther. Nope, not me.

Back to the mysteries–or rather, the questions I want answered, I don’t know if they are mysteries or if I’m just ignorant. Does panther sweat put hair on your chest? Bill the Cat sweat was a powerful hair restorer, although the side effects were a bit unsettling (ack, ack), does panther sweat have any side effects? If you drink too much of it, do you take hair of the dog in the morning, or fur of the cat? If you can’t find a sweating panther, will a puma do?
Kallessa (a seeker of knowledge)
P.S. I’m very fond of this smiley: ;j , although I have never had occasion to use it.

No mysteries here. Nothin’ to report at all. Boring as all heck. Well, one kinda mystery here at work. The formulas on a spreadsheet for billing up and left. They came back a few minutes later. So, maybe not so much a mystery. Maybe they had to go potty or just took a smoke break. I don’t know if formulas do go potty or smoke.

Speaking of smoking, or lack of smoking, I should say, I have been smoke free (smokeless?) for almost two months. I’m proud of that.

I am no longer Joe Dawg’s nanny. His parental unit came back from Hawaii on Saturday. JD is now in his own home again. I kinda miss him. I mean I really got use to being a chee-hoo-uh-hoo-uh habitrail. I got four tshirts, a night shirt and a beer holder thingy from Hawaii. I think that was pretty good pay for a week’s nannying. Oh, and a keychain that says Waikiki on it.

-swampbear (non-mysterious)

:smack: I love lil head-smackie.

:stuck_out_tongue: Green goober-head is a close second.

The oddest thing I saw this weekend happened on Sunday as I walked left the Smut Hut, the little kiosk on the corner that sells a variety of smut, weekly magazines, and the Sunday papers. With a bag of groceries (I’m so happy candy corn is back!) and the Sunday Trib and NY Times in hand, I strolled on home. It was kind of early and there wasn’t a lot of traffic out, apart from a middle-aged gentleman with one leg in his wheelchair scootching backwards down the street. He was sort of turned half-way around in the wheelchair to see where he was going and refused help from passerby. He seemed to be doing pretty well, although I had no idea where he could have been going and what few cars were out had to sort of swerve around him into the oncoming lane to get by.

Again, not so mysterious but just plain odd.

No Panther Sweat here, although I have had Pokari Sweat, that lovely Japanese beverage. Kinda like clear non-flavored Gatorade. When the Japanese use English (or Engrish, as it’s popularly called), it’s frequently wrong and even more frequently entertaining. But I didn’t see any Engrish this weekend other than my favorite t-shirt that I got in Japan that I love to wear because of the puzzled expressions of everyone who reads it. It says, and I swear I am not making this up, “They live with specific purposes, being supported by these the bestkind of personalities are completed.” First person to tell me what it means wins a million virtual bucks!

We spent the weekend trying to persuade our grass to NOT grow. Also our neighbor’s kudzu that insists on crawling over the fence to fill in the spots where our kudzu used to be before Papa Tiger attacked it so regularly with Round-Up that it pretty well leaves us alone now. Between their kudzu and some other vine that was burying the back yard, there’s now a 6’ high tall pile of yard crap by the curb waiting for our garbage men. They’ll pick up ANYTHING – yes, even old appliances, large chunks of carpet, unbagged lawn trash, furniture – you name it, if they can pick it up, they’ll take it, and they’re STRONG. We really love our garbage men. Papa Tiger tries to go out and thank them regularly because they do such an amazing good job. And they do it twice a week, too. I love the twice-a-week trash pickups you get in the South.

The most mysterious thing of all was that Young Tiger, who is slinging pizza at the Superdome for football games, actually worked 10 hours on Saturday, till 11:15 p.m. ((for a Tulane game), then got up CHEERFULLY on Sunday morning at 6:00 a.m. to go back to work for the Saints game. When Young Tiger gets up cheerfully before noon, we always think a Pod Person has taken him over. It’s certainly the only explanation WE can come up with.

I’m very proud of you too!! Yay!! Woohoo!!

<tossing confetti with wild and reckless abandon>

Keep up the good work, you old geezer you, and you’ll get to be an ever older geezer!

<flinging more confetti>

Sorry Joe Dawg has left, but still - YAY for smoke-freeness!!

<still more confetti>

Um, you might want to sweep that stuff up before Rue comes back - he likes his threads to be tidy. When they get all messy, he sends me these whiney emails about lack of respect and stuff.


Ya know I’m kidding, don’t ya, Rue??