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Apr. 1st, 2006 01:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunchofgrapesI finally downloaded some of the pics off my camera. These are my furkids--the only ones I'll ever have. At my age any kids I have will already come with names.
I should add that Harry is the brown Tabby and he's into absolutely everything. Definitely a cat full of piss and vinegar but also very, very lovable. He's such a mama's boy. Oh, and he loves to play fetch. Sophie is my baby girl. She watches movies with me and loves to cuddle. Purely by accident mind you but Harry shares his birthday with Paul Guilfoyle. Wonder if Paul's full of piss and vinegar too?
So this morning, as I'm in the midst of a dream where Steed and Mrs. Peel, having just gotten married, are climbing into the back of a Rolls Royce limo (Steed has two glasses and two bottles of champers in hand), my mother calls.
So mom wakes me from my super-terrific dream (I totally blame Mercury75 for this as she's just made me some cool Avengers icons) to tell me that on Monday she broke her ankle. Not some weenie, air cast kind of break. No sir. This was a "do it right or not at all" kind of break. This required two pins and a plate. All sounds horribly painful, right? Especially when she says "I knew it was broken because I looked down and my foot was flopping around". I had this image of a fish. Like I said, it was early.
Anyway, she then begins to tell me this hysterically funny story about how she was home alone (they live out in the sticks) and she was screaming for help but no one was around to help. I should add that she just turned 63 and lives in Oklahoma. I live in Northern VA. This event happened out in their huge-antic yard--away from the house. So she can't walk and is going to pass out yet she manages to drag herself across the yard, up the steps and into the house where she calls my stepfather who is on his way out of town but hasn't gotten so far that he couldn't turn around. Yes, at this point I also asked, "why the hell didn't you call an ambulance?" but this is my mother. Anyway, my stepfather arrives after probably an hour where then my mom tells him the story. She also kindly adds "I don't think I dragged myself through any dogshit along the way" to which my stepfather replies, "No, you don't smell too bad." Did I mention that I was about to pee my pants laughing by now? So was my mom. Oh, and how did she do it? They have two Golden Retrievers and they ran into her from behind, knocking her to the ground.
This is why I have cats.
I should add that Harry is the brown Tabby and he's into absolutely everything. Definitely a cat full of piss and vinegar but also very, very lovable. He's such a mama's boy. Oh, and he loves to play fetch. Sophie is my baby girl. She watches movies with me and loves to cuddle. Purely by accident mind you but Harry shares his birthday with Paul Guilfoyle. Wonder if Paul's full of piss and vinegar too?
So this morning, as I'm in the midst of a dream where Steed and Mrs. Peel, having just gotten married, are climbing into the back of a Rolls Royce limo (Steed has two glasses and two bottles of champers in hand), my mother calls.
So mom wakes me from my super-terrific dream (I totally blame Mercury75 for this as she's just made me some cool Avengers icons) to tell me that on Monday she broke her ankle. Not some weenie, air cast kind of break. No sir. This was a "do it right or not at all" kind of break. This required two pins and a plate. All sounds horribly painful, right? Especially when she says "I knew it was broken because I looked down and my foot was flopping around". I had this image of a fish. Like I said, it was early.
Anyway, she then begins to tell me this hysterically funny story about how she was home alone (they live out in the sticks) and she was screaming for help but no one was around to help. I should add that she just turned 63 and lives in Oklahoma. I live in Northern VA. This event happened out in their huge-antic yard--away from the house. So she can't walk and is going to pass out yet she manages to drag herself across the yard, up the steps and into the house where she calls my stepfather who is on his way out of town but hasn't gotten so far that he couldn't turn around. Yes, at this point I also asked, "why the hell didn't you call an ambulance?" but this is my mother. Anyway, my stepfather arrives after probably an hour where then my mom tells him the story. She also kindly adds "I don't think I dragged myself through any dogshit along the way" to which my stepfather replies, "No, you don't smell too bad." Did I mention that I was about to pee my pants laughing by now? So was my mom. Oh, and how did she do it? They have two Golden Retrievers and they ran into her from behind, knocking her to the ground.
This is why I have cats.
