Tag: photos

With Midol™ on the side


Today’s coffee cup is brought to us courtesy of Jim and Project Angel Food. Project Angel Food’s mission is to nourish the body and spirit of men, women, and children affected by HIV/AIDS and other serious illnesses.

This cup mysteriously went missing for a while, then just as mysteriously reappeared. That crazy Rex and his coffee-drinking ways.

A bit of Houston

A lot of people who live in the Houston suburbs spend their whole lives outside the 610 Loop. Some of them incorrectly think that The Compound is in a crime-ridden, concrete nightmare, because we are about 1.5 miles from downtown Houston. In fact, here’s a view of the Houston skyline from the ‘hood:

Today I have a screaming headache and can’t work. Since Rex is always ready for a ride, Tim loaded him, Rex’s unfriends Margot and Guinness, and me into the car. (Like Miranda in THE DEAL, I enjoy riding around and looking at houses.) I shot photos of just a tiny sampling of some of the homes in our neighborhood. Because of the waning sunlight, we couldn’t get photos of the well-shaded bungalows and mansions. That will have to wait for another day. But here’s a little bit of Montrose. Among these houses is one that our friend Lindsey used to live in.
not so shabby Montrose

The Great Refrigerator Ordeal, Part 2

Part 1 was the part where my flesh separated from my skull, fire shot out of my eyes, and my throat emitted a keening noise that melted slugs on Tim’s screen door. Aren’t you glad I didn’t journal Part 1?

Part 2 began yesterday, when I bought the second refrigerator–at a different merchant–that I’ve bought in a week. The first refrigerator went back courtesy of Lynne’s truck* when the store would not pick it up. They did, however, refund our money. Slugs everywhere thank them.

So this is Part 2, Day 2, wherein the second refrigerator fills the space in my kitchen and wonders why I continue to eye it with suspicion. It’s simple: Refrigerator One started out okay and went bad. So this one has to prove itself against the failings of its predecessor.

*Thanks for the use of the truck. Does the truck also have a name?

State of The Compound: Temptations

Victories: Yesterday I finished a chapter. It was probably the chapter that intimidated me the most. Today, I plan to finish another one.

Mishaps: Unfortunately, as I’m sure EVERYONE who deals with computers knows, no matter how many times you get burned and tell yourself you’ll never do THAT again…

I saved a For-Tim-and-Jim-To-Read draft over a working draft and lost about eight pages of writing I was doing on two different chapters. Those particular pieces of writing were saved nowhere else. It’s only eight pages, not as bad as the time I lost 200 pages, but still…

At moments of realization like that, it’s hard not to wish I were:


Filling this canvas with the painting that a lovely person has commissioned from me. Or:


Getting lost in one of the three books I’m simultaneously reading, all of which are completely absorbing for different reasons.

I’m sorry if I’m not responding (or am responding s-l-o-w-l-y) to your e-mails, phone calls, or your wonderful blogs and journals. I’ll be more communicative soon.

A red balloon

Maybe you’ve read the book The Red Balloon. I haven’t read it, but I love the description of it. It’s a story about love, magic, and friendship–like all the best stories.

I’m still out at Green Acres (Tim and Becky’s remote office, and home of the snake; Greta the dowager doberman; and Sparky the diabetic dog. Sparky made a big escape while under my supervision, but fortunately, when I went after him in the car, he deigned to come home), and as Lynne and I were leaving to run errands, this floated up:

We weren’t sure what it was attached to or where it came from, but it was still at Green Acres when we came home several hours later. So we looked up the story of the red balloon, then went out and took some photos of it. When the wind kicked up, it brought the balloon’s anchor up to eye level, like this:

We decided to set the red balloon free from its monster and send all our cares and troubles with it.

I’m pretty sure the snake, however, is still around somewhere.

The rakish palmetto bug

Yeah, I know that they’re only called palmetto bugs in Florida, and everywhere else they’re roaches. Tree roaches, though, not cockroaches (like those that infest your home, are nearly impossible to get rid of, and fall off the ceiling into your father-in-law’s salad when you live in a really crappy apartment as an impoverished newlywed, not that that’s happened to anyone I know).

I know that these female tree roaches can fly when they’re breeding, and they stupidly fly at you, provoking your immediate urge to murder them, instead of away from you, so that you can just run off screaming uncontrollably and they’re allowed to live another day (and bear more young, bless their hearts).

Yet, over time, I’ve made a kind of bargain with them. Inside, they must die and die quickly. I no longer cringe and flee in terror (screaming for Tom at two in the morning when he’s sound asleep, not that that’s ever happened, either) when I spot them. I grab whatever is nearest and bludgeon them to death without hesitation. I don’t see them often in my house, because they’re not really inside bugs, except sometimes at Tim’s apartment, where they like to escape from the heat and look for water. But I don’t live in Tim’s apartment, so they’re his beast of burden to bear, not mine.

Outside, I just try to avoid them. After all, they’re not as big as the ones from South America that I saw (dead) in an exhibit at the Cockrell Butterfly Center (a lovely place that is mentioned in The Deal, a novel I’m sure you’ve ALL BOUGHT AND READ).

However, as I mentioned in Tim’s LJ comments, because my friend’s home in the suburbs is a magnificent showplace of trees and plants and lush foliage of many types, it is also a sanctuary for palmetto bugs tree roaches, like this one who smiled for a photo last night, just inches from where I was turning on a faucet.

for the love of all that’s dear to you, Lindsey, don’t click here to see these photos

Crate expectations

I remember a time when I thought crating dogs was a little cruel. Then one night I went to a party at some friends’ house, and I spotted their dog in her crate in a mini-office off of the kitchen. The crate door was open, and I said, “Do you mean she goes in there and stays there willingly instead of begging all your guests for ear rubs and snacks?” And I was assured that she loved her crate. I didn’t quite believe it.

Then Margot came to us crate-trained from her foster home. We got a crate because that’s what she was used to, and she not only went in there willingly any time we asked, but also chose to take naps there. When Guinness came a few months later, Margot trained her to use a second crate. Guinness doesn’t use the crate quite as often as Margot, but she never argues about going in it and sometimes actually chooses it over all the other cozy places she can nap.

Now I’m an enthusiastic advocate of crates. Used correctly–NEVER for punishment or discipline–they help prevent mishaps and provide dogs a sense of a secure space that belongs only to them. (And if you use a crate, please remember to remove a collar if you’re going to close your dog up unsupervised.)

The first photo makes it look like Margot’s crate may be too small for her, but it’s actually the right size. Your dog should be able to stand up in the crate and turn around (three times in a circle, of course) comfortably.

To the best of my knowledge, Greta has never been crate-trained. She has several special dog pillows in her own home placed strategically throughout the house and on the patio for her comfort. But today, she started trying to go in either Margot’s or Guinness’s crate, and she’s just too big.

So Tim set up River’s crate (Rex came with his own from his former family, and it’s set up at Tim’s, of course) in the Home Office, and I put Greta’s pillow in there. It’s a little too spacious for her (River was a larger dog), but I think she likes it. She may be going home with some demands in a few days…