Blatant Religiousity Warning

I love to organize. I said organize, not clean, so quit laughing.
I love little boxes with tiny compartments, and shelves with little areas divided up for baking spices, savory spices, dried herbs, etc. Perhaps because of that I have always been fascinated by the concept of the Catholic rosary beads. My prayers are always really disjointed and frenetic, and I always feel like I'm not focused enough for them to really matter. The thought of having a clear cut, rote guide to prayer really appeals to me, even if the patron saint of throat cancer didn't.

So I kind of made myself a set of prayer beads. It's the same concept without the obsessive wierdness. I took the pattern for the Anglican prayer beads. I can't find the camera to show you mine, but here's a diagram:



I figured I'd read whatever chapter the Cubby's verse of the week comes from, then pray. That way I'm not doing it as I lay in bed, semi-coherent and fighting for pillow space with the dog.
I read Psalm 14 tonight(heavy reading) and used the beads to pray for the people I care about. It works well, because there's one group of beads for each family that matters, and gives me the time to pray for each person without mashing everybody together. It's nice, kind of like meditation.
Hope that doesn't sound too wierd.

Anyway...I'm getting over my mucus infestation, and the kids are all doing well. Caroline came over today which was lots of fun, and her Mom is giving us her old swing set! BIL is coming over tomorrow to help us move it. It's a nice wooden one, a little old, and I think the kids will really just enjoy the everloving splinters out of it. Plus, I don't have to feel so guilty when I banish them all into the backyard while the baby takes a nap.
I defrosted, cleaned and restocked the freezer. It looks good. Once I find the camera I'll post some pictures, because I CAN'T IMAGINE ANYTHING MORE INTERESTING FOR Y'ALL TO LOOK AT. It's pretty sweet. When I open it, there's a faint waft of cold air and a hint of bleach that just makes my whole day. Plus I finally figured out what happened to that big bag of mint M&Ms that disappeared a few months ago. They became one with the permafrost on the bottom of the freezer.

Important Questions

Which is easier, to spit out gobs of teal lung-phlegm at ten minute intervals throughout the day, or to hork up an even pint of it all at once?
To me, spitting is waaaaaay worse than vomiting. I can't really explain it, it's like my aversion to the sound of bones cracking. It just freaks me out. I'm not even sure I could move a big ball of snot from the back of my throat to the tip of my tongue without throwing up. Aside from the gut wrenchingly painful aspects, and the horrible, horrible taste of semi-digested mucus, I really prefer just swallowing what I can throughout the day and sicking it out later.

Hope I totally ruined the taste of your morning coffee, all you happy & healthy people. >:-(

Nnnnnnnngh.

Getting sick is kind of an unusual thing for me...It happens, but not often. So when I got a stomach virus last week, I thought "Hey, it's cool, another six months before I get sick again!"

Spending the night hotboxing steam in the shower was kind of not on my list of things to do, but I'm doing it anyway. I have a cold...One of those colds that burn and itch right in the back of your neck, where your ears meet your throat. It's a little early for coffee still (3:30am), so I've been sucking down chamomile and hot lemon juice like it's cool. It's not working, though. I'm going to miss church tomorrow. Whenever I lie down my nose and the back of my throat fill up with liquid snot. Swiper's worried about me...Well, worried enough to stand barking at the bathroom door, but not worried enough to come in and risk getting a shower himself.

He and Tommy had fun last night while we were staying with the in-laws. They normally don't get along at all, but Pete locked them both in the back yard and they found a stinky, smelly mud puddle to roll in. Seriously, it smelled like a pig wallow. They had a great time, though, and Swiper got two hose baths which he seems to prefer over warm showers. I got some pictures of them all covered in mud, I'll try to get them up tomorrow.

Last Saturday, Swiper and I met Chula from the pitbull group and got to practice the weave poles:


And then Swiper got to try his hand smelling out what Chula's owner calls 'doggie cocaine', a soft treat like sausage that we took turns hiding. I have never seen a dog go as nuts for ANY other kind of treat. It's called Petbotanics, I think, and you can buy it at Petco or Petsmart. Swiper did pretty well.



Then we finished off with a nice walk through the forest. Lenora seemed less than stimulated by the whole thing.

The Big U/S

So, can you guess what sex the baby is?

I can haz kittehs?

Ha ha, my cat went into labor on Labor Day.
What's she going to do on Arbor day?
She had three little kittens of undetermined sex;



They're pretty cute.
Swiper likes to sit and watch them.

The Hermidifier

In answer to your question:
There's nothing living in the bottle, but in the large tank to the left are three hermit crabs; Blossom, Mermaid Princess Unicorn, and Rocketship. See if you can guess who named who.
We've had Rocketship for a few weeks, and after reading a book on hermit crab care, the oldest informed me that
A) Hermit crabs are social creatures that pine away without friends,
B) Hermit crabs need 4 inches of sand to burrow in, and
C) Hermit crabs NEED HUMIDITY, Mommy, without it they will SUFFOCATE, and by the way Mommy what's humidity?

So I had to move Rocketship from his very decorative, adorable, and bone-dry fishbowl into a ten gallon tank, and we picked up some little friends for him. I will admit that they do seem happier now, moving around and eating their spaghetti with every appearance of men unexpectedly released from prison. I would never have thought that hermit crabs could project happiness or thrilled excitement, but believe me, they do.



It's El Hermidor in Spanish.

Very possibly the coolest thing Mr. Legs has made for me yet.
One tube goes from the pump into an air stone at the bottom of the bottle, and the other goes from the top of the bottle into the crabitat, providing lots of moist air for them to breathe. We ganked the idea from another website.



I reeeeeally need a light to put underneath the bottle. That would look awesome.
The atmospheric difference is pretty obvious now; when I put my hand in the tank, it feels like...Well, exactly like going outdoors, actually, warm & steamy. The crabs have gone from immobile shells to curious little explorers.
The kids really enjoy them. They use their Little People fences, castles and houses to make a big crab-coral and set them all loose inside. We're also learning about gills again, and a little bit about crab anatomy.
Instead of a regular story book, tonight we read the first chapter of "Hermit Crabs: Your Healthy and Happy Pet" (not my idea of satisfying pre-bed reading, but what do I know?).
I have this wierd urge to aquire living things; usually I buy plants, but what I really want is another puppy. Intellectually I know it's a stupid idea, since we already had the experience of two dogs when Charlie was here, but emotionally I feel the stirrings of my inner Crazy Cat Lady. At least the crabs are pretty much non-intrusive.

Picking up strays

Well, the inlaws came over this evening with "a few things" they had picked up for the girl's room...They've now got Tinkerbell comforters, sheets, pillows, sparkly beaded purple sheers and bright green curtains.



They stayed late and helped us put it all up. It looks so put together, so much better than I thought it would.



Even the pink ceiling seems to fit. That giant bare patch is the eldest's handiwork...Peeling paint like her momma used to peel wallpaper.

After they left, we decided to watch every episode of the three new Dr. Who series in one fell, nacho-fueled swoop.
We took a break from our marathon at about 11:45 so I could do a chip run. As I was getting back in the car at the gas station this tiny girl in wee little shorts came up and asked for a ride somewhere; she had an argument with her boyfriend who apparently just dropped her off, so she had no idea where she was. Her two year old daughter was staying with a babysitter and she couldn't call anyone because her Mom had turned her cell phone off.
I brought her home to let her use the phone and see if Pete would drive her home. He was really good about it and they're on their way now; I made him take the Glock, hidden in my diaper bag just in case. He was amused, but you really never know. I shudder to to think of my daughters wandering around an area like this in full club regalia.