Hey dudes.

So two days ago we were walking by the Zoo when we saw a duck with two brand new babies. They were going our way, so we decided to follow them at a discreet distance to see where they went. It was soon apparent that they were making their way directly to the lake, about a quarter of a mile from where we were.

The mother dipped down hills, crossed roads, and cut through bushes, with the little babies toddling along behind her full tilt. It was funny to watch them crash into things and their mother, trying to keep up. We stopped traffic for them at the Lake and they crossed the road and plopped into the water. The mother guzzled a bunch of water the minute she got into it, and it was obvious that it was the babies’ first time in, because they scrambled to get onto her back, which she wasn’t having any of. I wondered how many days it had been since she had had a drink. Do ducks have humps like camels, but full of duck fat? Yum. Next time I sees a duck I’m gonna tap it like a maple tree.

ANYWAY, did chav shopping today: cheap dress for next Friday, horrible accessories the likes of which may be purchased on the 12th floor of Hell (Ladies Lingerie, Handbags, Anal Probes), Nair (in case dear god there may be swimming, in which case I bring my own racing stripes), and roofies for any hot mommybloggers I encounter next week.

JUST KIDDING, I just use margaritas. Seriously, sporks, there are going to be a lot of mommybloggers up in the MF Blogher hizzy next week. I don’t know if I can hang with it all, but it sounds like there are going to be loads of peripheral activity to keep my cranky self occupied. Does anyone know of other little regular blogmeets in SF next weekend? Is there a PenisFest to counteract the feminine powers of the VagFest I will be going to? Additionally, I think the keynote is a bit of a comedown from Elizabeth Edwards last year.

Ungrateful McAsspants out.

WOW, Scott Pilgrim movie. Dunno how I feel about Michael Cera playing Scott, though. Too wimpy, methinks.

Hey, you may have gathered from commentland (thank you reader Nuclear Daisy) that I got mentioned in July Esquire for Mans in an article by Roy Blount, Jr. I like that Blount, he seems like an affable goofball on “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me.” I would love to have that gig. I can bullshit like CRAZY.

I have never actually picked up Esquire for Mans before, and overall it was pretty disappointing. There was an article on OMG, have you noticed skulls are everywhere now in fashion? WHAT. Next you are going to tell me there is a hot new car called the Prius. So, while I am uncertain how I feel about being namechecked in a publication that thinks it’s the Amazing Year 2006, I guess all publicity IS good publicity. Now shop at my store and click my ads.

cleek

Looks warming, doesn’t it?

TONIGHT there was one fennel. Just one. It was wee. So it became special fennel.

What store has one fennel? Ours, that’s what. Well, alright.

The good news is that when you have one fennel you can cook the halibut at the same time. One pan action.

Later I made a cheesecake and Veronica hung out on The Joy of Cooking. She cool.

Finally, the birds flocked and watched me make cheesecake. You are never alone when you are with chooks. Have a good weekend, perps.

Wow, it got nice all of a sudden. See, if I had the internet in my arm, as is my dream, I could be internetting outside. But no, so Hester Prynne and I are but casual acquaintances. I did just get some fun editing work for a couple of days. I was afraid I was going to be all rusty, but I snapped right into it. It was so fun. I get the same feeling editing text as I used to get looking at van Goghs. Is this a sickness? It feels like love. I want more. I hope it’s out there for me in September when I march off to an office job of some sort. My dream is to be given large documents with many problems that need to be turned around very quickly. I really do have dreams about that, finding comma splices. HOW SAD.

So, what the hell is going on here?

A. I have to find new hosting, so I am working on that. Because of happenstance, etc, I have never paid for hosting, but now I will stop being a hosting ho ho ho. I was dreading it so much I was thinking I would just stop writing my website, because I hate MT and dealing with this shit. I could go back to diaryland. You can’t stop me.

B. Doot doot doot doot doo…It’s Domestic!

Pumpkin starts. These will go up on the garage roof.

Nearby are the tomato starts, which were purchased at the edible plant sale at the front of this month. I didn’t know they could stay in their wee buckets for this long.

The cucumbers are outside in cloches, and by cloches I mean all we were allowed to drink for two weeks was large bottles of Talking Rain.

Also, the coop is coming along. It is actually further along than this:

But this is the newest picture I have. It’s going to be four feet by four feet and eighteen inches off the ground. We have it framed out and tonight we will put in the floor and broody box, I hope. I showed it to my friend JB today and he said his experience with chickens was with big old meat birds. We were talking about the stuff people do around here, me included, to make the “urban microfarm.” I love that phrase.

Yesterday I picked up my second and last batch of chickens for the spring. I now have two Silkies and a Polish (I was inspired, KQ). I was going to just pick up two, one to replace my rooster and one for insurance policy, but these birds were straight run, so bets, watch me hedge them. I did a little wing-spotting, but feather sexing is a dicey game. ALTHOUGH five years ago I picked all pullets with my ghetto eyeballing, so we shall see. I have a soft spot for Silkies, so I hope they are both pullets.

Franny with white Silkie.

I wrote a piece a bit ago on the mudflap girl here and at Blogher, and what do I see yesterday?

Irony? An alternative for bear truck drivers? I dunno. I like it.

Spring, bitches, or something like it.

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Is anyone else SUPER INSANELY TIRED of finding their blog entries ganked, copypasta-ed, and linked on some sketchy big titty bitches website that has nothing to do with anything except for generating ad revenue? YEAH, ME TOO. Fuckers.

filmfission.com, you are cocks.
sexysissy.net, you are cocks
dildoskanks.com, you are…COCKS.

I am pretty sure this is in violation of my Creative Commons license, which says you cannot use my work for commercial purposes. PLEASE DIE and/or get a real job. Or just DIE.

Ah, well. Here is a Prance off Dance off.

“Jimmy” by M.I.A.

And the original from a Bollywood film.

I cannot decide which one I like better. “I hate you Jimmy! You’re a cowpants.”

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Halfway through Obama’s speech she fell asleep and got even heavier, so I had to sit down again. Being behind a bunch of standing people made the sound bounce all funny, so I couldn’t hear much more of what was said after that. But I am still glad I went. Mayor Nipples got booed but no one else did, so all is right with the Seattle world.

Here is what Key Arena looked like all crammed with people. Mayor Nipples tried to get some love by saying he made the Fire Chief let extra people in, but whatever.

After the rally we went to Mexican food. Strudel was cramming her lil face with salsa and then hit a jalapeno speedbump.

YIKES.

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Franny Tells a Story.

Backstory is that I had breakfast recently with another mom whose child goes to Franny’s school. She wanted to call a meeting because apparently Franny is treating her kid like poo when she’s at my house, and BFFs with her when she’s at her dad’s. She picked up that I was anti-playdate, but all that it was about was in the amazing year 2004, my ex was having moms sign pieces of paper that were used against me in court, because I am Satanic Puppy Eater. This family in particular was spending a lot of time with SeaFed, so I avoided.

We talked, though, and it was funny. The mom told me she actually was down with me, because she has heard about my mad skillz. Also, when she would turn her child over to SeaFed, he would take the kids to get doughnuts and shit at the 7-11. It was funny–I did not know this.

So I was afraid of everyone at school, because of the court business. Nothing personal really. Just tired of getting dragged through the mud. I thought my kid was staying away from this kid. I was wrong. I told Franny why I had shunned them.

And now they are going to play at my house on Thursday. Bygones and shit. I am not afraid of any of the other mommies anymore. My world was very small three years ago. Now it is very larger.

“I had a dream, Mom,” Franny told me today, as I was in the bathroom, dying her hair.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I dreamed about that stuff you told me about court the other day. About how the other moms signed papers.”

“Yeah?”

“I dreamed there were a lot of moms there, speaking against you. And I stood up. And my dad was there.”

“And then what happened?” I said.

“I stood up and I said, ‘I don’t think any of this is right. I spend time with my mom, and with my stepmom. I want to be with my MOM.”

“Oh,” I said. I always feel vaguely alarmed when she does this. There is a part of me, I’m serious, who wants her to be more of a fan of her dad.

“I feel like I have TWO MOMS,” she finished.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she said.

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