UNBELIEVABLE!!!

UNBELIEVABLE!!!

Okay, I’ve had it! After getting rid of two copperheads in the garden this spring and feeling reasonably safe that nothing else that could hurt me lurked there, I walked by the garden gate today and saw a 3-foot long Copperhead skin. Dab-burn-it!!! I can’t tell you how frustrated I am. There’s no way I’ll be able to get past my extreme paranoia long enough to fetch the rest of my produce. I ended up picking squash at the edge of the rock wall where I could see directly in front of me. Boomer snarled at the skin–he’s a bit slow when it comes to guarding the homestead. My cat has better hunting skills than he does. This morning, I saw Tom-Tom, my ancient kitty snacking on a mouse. His motivation couldn’t possibly be hunger. I give him 3 snacks a day and yesterday I poured salmon juice over his regular food. I’m chocking his prowess up to being a great hunter.

It’s that time of year again when the ginseng hunters are out. These guys don’t really care if they’re on private property–they park their truck where it can’t be seen and hike all over this mountain hunting ginseng. They’ve pretty much hunted it to extinction. According to law, they’re only supposed to gather at a specific time and then replant any seeds they find. They don’t. That’s why the plant is almost extinct here. Whenever I find a ginseng plant on the property, I break off the above ground leaves so they won’t find it. Once I found a hole where someone had dug right below my house. To add insult to injury, the guy tossed his candy bar wrapper on the ground next to it.

Well friends, guess I’d better start packing. I’m heading to Alaska in a few days to visit family. I’ll write more about my adventures there.

Take care, All.

Yes, I’m THAT Person

Toby, my low-life cheatin’ kittie

Someone in a discussion with my sister, wondered who those people were that were upset when their pets ran away from home, because if they had run away it must’ve been because they were bad owners. . . . she thought for a moment, and then answered, “my sister.”

It’s true. I’m THAT person. Here’s the story. I had my cat for over 12 years. She was the first cat we had while here in Tennessee–the alpha and omega of kitties. We found her in the woods and raised her from a kitten. The thing about Toby is she is the ultimate loner and admirably ferocious. I once saw her bring a rabbit out of the woods that was as big as she was, which was quite extraordinary. I, as a cat owner, am very “needy.” I need lots of attention from my animals. So when my cat disappears for months at a time, I assume she just wants her space, and I’m okay with that, as long as she shows up and lets me know she’s okay and happy. But when she moves in with my neighbor, (let’s call him Jeff), that’s when I get upset. What does he have that I don’t???? Better food? I give out kitty treats several times a day and sometimes even break out the canned salmon. Better home? I have a courtyard dedicated to kitties only. Love? Come on, do I really need to go on about my attributes here????

With this loss, I found myself going through the seven stages of grief. First Shock and Denial–how could Toby move in with Jeff? Then Pain and Guilt–did I do something wrong? Does Toby hate me now? Then Anger and Bargaining–I find myself driving by Jeff’s house thinking, “what a @@@itch, when I see Toby lazing in his yard and then quickly finding myself wanting to stop to say hello.” Next, I experienced depression–weeks of just trying to get on with my life, perking up at any stray meow I heard. Followed by some normalcy returning to my life–my other dogs and cats still need attention, walks, hugs, treats as I’m working through my loss. Then finally acceptance–“Okay, so Toby isn’t coming back. I still have two other cats that love my attention and two dogs that watch my every movement, basking in each dog biscuit…..

I guess I’m writing this post to admit that when it comes to my pets, I “MIGHT” be needier than the most obnoxious dog. I have high expectations–as long as they stick around they pretty much own me. I wonder if there’s a 12-step program for pet owners to work through the co-dependency issues.

Take care, All

I finally have Unplugged up on Barnes and Noble for Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unplugged-hillary-bergeron/1112136489?ean=2940014942355

THE PAIN IN MY BUTT

We have bees. Not by choice. My sister bought them before she left for Alaska and just kind of ditched them. So for the past year, we’ve left them alone and they’ve left us alone. A few months ago, some guys from the local bee association came by to check on them and saw that they were in good shape. Honestly, I’d pretty much forgotten about them. After deciding that we shouldn’t let free bees go to waste, we decided to get involved. Since we don’t know the first thing about beekeeping, we bought a book on the subject and contacted a friend who’s an expert. He showed us how to extract honey. A few weeks later, we pulled about a gallon of liquid gold from the hive. We could’ve taken out more gallons, but then nothing would have been left for the bees sustenance through the winter. It’s not a good idea to completely rob them or else you’ll have to provide them sugar water as food, which can’t be as good as their own honey. I would say our first venture in beekeeping was a success. We even attended our first bee meeting ever. Not only was it interesting, they had a potluck buffet to boot–and who never says “no” to good food–this gal, (2 thumbs pointed at myself).

So, back to the pain in the butt thing. One night, I came into my dark living room and decided to sit in my favorite chair. I accidentally sat on a giant wasp. He stung the fire out of my butt, then when I tried to swipe him off, stung my hand. He was huge. Of course I crushed him afterward, even though he was going to die anyway, but I had to exact revenge. I spent most of the night with an icepack alternating between my butt and my hand. When the Benadryl kicked in, I finally had relief. But for the next few weeks, I couldn’t sit without feeling the welt on my hiney and then as the pain went away, the itching started and it lasted for more than a week. I think the offender in question was a Japanese Wasp. They’re known to hang outside beehives and literally eat little honey bees. From what I’ve heard, they can destroy an entire hive. Honestly, I can’t think of a more useless creature and I have a keen remembrance of the pain in my butt to prove it. Life’s always exciting around here . . . I just wish it weren’t so painful.

Take care, All.

P.S. I have my books up on Barnes and Noble site for any Nook fans out there.
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unplugged-hillary-bergeron/1112136489?ean=2940014942355

And as always, Unplugged is available on Amazon. This is the 2nd edition. I went in corrected mistakes in the other addition and added a little more here and there.

The Importance of Maintaining Proper Food Storage

I’m cranky when I diet.  It’s bad enough that I gave up all carbs, sugars, fats, or pretty  much anything with taste–but when I go to the cupboard and find only a few grains of stevia left, it puts me over the edge.  No more sugar-free hot cocoa.  Without it, chocolate would have the acrid taste of just gnawing on an actual cocoa bean or inhaling baking chocolate .  Stevia, combined with chocolate, makes my world go around.  So last night and this morning, I’ve had to forego my usual cup of homemade sugar-free hot cocoa that keeps me sane.

The good new is that later this afternoon, I made it over to Bi-Lo where this time I stocked up on 6 bags of industrial sized stevia so I won’t run out again.  Now normalcy can return to my life and my family doesn’t have to tip-toe around me like mice around a fat sleeping cat.

So today, after being without my hot cocoa fix, I’ve had to deal with lazy book store people who look annoyed that they have to do their job in any fashion, huge crowds of people at Riverbend, horrible traffic, and last but not least, some guy belting out his undying love for the Googoo Dolls in my face after the concert (to my credit, I did refrain from hitting him with my lawn chair-kuddos to me–although I almost suffered a hangover from the fumes on his breath).

Even with all of that, I only lost my cool with the lazy book store employee who kept making up rules as he was going along about how many books they could take and exactly how the books should be presented in the container and how inconvenient it was that I’d brought that many books in–keep in mind, this is how they stay open and they did end up taking most of my books.  Earlier in the day, my niece asked me if I’d ever slapped anyone–“Not that I can recall,” I answered, “but there’ve been quite a few people I would’ve loved to smack around.”  Today, the lazy book store employee and his manager were two of them.  There are so few jobs to go around these days, you’d think that people who have work would at least be polite and maybe a little happy that they have a job.  Instead, we, the public are saddled with empty-eyed employees that hate work.  I have news for them–NO ONE LIKES THEIR JOB, so get over it and help some darned people already why don’t you.  I’m not asking for a smile and cheerful attitude, I’m just asking for some basic respect for the other humans on the same planet who are standing in your endless lines.  So you have to work–why don’t you just cry me a bucket of damned tears about it.  Taking peoples’ books at the used book store has got to be one of the easiest jobs available, just take the books and give them a ticket, why do you have to give them such grief?

All in all, I’d say that the guy was really lucky that I didn’t blow a gasket being that (1) I’m dieting and food deprivation can cause major upheavals in society anyway, (2) I ran out of sugar-free sweetener for my chocolate and (3) I’m feeling menopausal.  I would say he’s darned lucky to be breathing in my book.

Now that I’m sipping on my hot cocoa, I raise a toast, “HERE’S TO A BETTER TOMORROW AND FINDING A NEW BOOK STORE WHERE MY BOOKS ARE ACTUALLY WANTED.”

Take Care, All