Hope that everyone had a safe and happy New Years Eve (and Day)!
We spent our holiday quietly at a cabin in the woods.
When it came around time to get the snacks out, Mr. C. Cow said that he was having popcorn chicken over to ring in the new year. I was somewhat baffled over Mr. C. telling us we were having this as a meal. We’re vegetarian so the thought of him ordering up a bucket of fried meat products was bizarre. Turns out that popcorn should be capitalized as it is the name of a chicken he met at a book club meeting.
Popcorn Chicken was just a nickname. His real name was Wilford and he owned a food cart called “Clucking Kettle Corn”. Bishop made some sort of strange noise that sounded like a giggle but he wouldn’t tell me why a kettle corn food cart would make him laugh. He just shook his head and wandered off to put on a pot of coffee.
The rest of the evening was relaxing. Bishop and I played cards. Marslean told tall tales of Father Time to Mr. C. Cow and Popcorn. When midnight hit, Mr. C. put on a hat and ran around the yard screaming “Happy New Year” while banging on a pan. Popcorn joined in and made so much noise that Bishop had to ask them to quit it and stop denting his pans.
We hope that 2018 brings all of you joy, happiness, and a few non-dented pans.
I am well versed in the fine art of coupon cutting. When there is a sale I am more than willing to spend hours trying to find a coupon to make the sale even better. I hate spending full price on anything. It’s outrageous! One time I got a fifty pack of bottled water for a dollar. While I did a victory lap with the shopping cart, Mr. C. Cow and Bishop both stared at me like I was some sort of weirdo. Some people just don’t get it.
I am, extraordinarily, lucky that I coupon because Mr. C. Cow has…GASP….(Seriously….someone needs to gasp with me..)….started purchasing WAY TOO MANY floating things to go in a pool. I know. It’s the type of drama that makes you pass out due to excitement. I’ve seen loungers. We’ve seen countless beach balls. Bishop has blown up giant sharks wearing saddles. I once caught Marlsean sneaking an inflatable tug boat into the house because Mr. C. Cow wanted to make a game out of it. It’s out of control!
Pools are CRAZY. I, cannot, wrap my head around filling something full of water then throwing a bunch of chemicals in it. Not only does it make your hair smell gross but it doesn’t seem natural to me. Find a lake, an ocean, a puddle, or something! Maybe it’s the otter in me but…blah…yucky!
While shopping for the latest in floating pool accessories, we ran into one of the weirdest safety signs of all time. It was on a gargantuan, inflatable ice cream cone so the warning went into the realm of food weird. I don’t even know if it’s trying to tell us to be safe. Take a look:
The exclamation point, clearly, states that this is an important sign to pay attention to. At first glance of the directions and/or safety portion it looks like you need to fill an ice cream machine from the top to have it come out the bottom. Mr. C. Cow thought the machine was peeing (I ignored this thought). We couldn’t find anything resembling a machine anywhere on the inflatable ice cream cone. This was the best we could come up with:
“Be sure to fill your rocket ship 100% before blasting off.” – Mr. C. Cow (I don’t think a pool float is a rocket ship. Wouldn’t it melt?)
“Horses, when shot into space, have a 100% chance of exploding when hitting the ground.” – Marslean (I showed her the photo and now she scares me. Who shoots horses into space??!!?? Isn’t she a pony? Oh…My….Equine…..)
“I think that the “+ 1″ means we are supposed to roll a die to determine who gets to use the inflatable ice cream cone.” – Me
“I think we’re suppose to roll to see how quickly the horse explodes.” – Marslean
“I still think it has something to do with pee.” – Mr. C. Cow (Who is still being ignored for his bathroom chatter.)
After all of this chit-chat about signs, horse-splosions, and other (freaky) pool accessories chat, we went with a blow up pencil. It seemed safer and would come in handy if anyone needed to write something down.
Maybe I should get a matching inflatable notebook to have something to write on.
1st Photo Taken In Second Life. 2nd Photo Taken While Out And About In This Place Called “The Real World”.
Second Life Photo Taken At My Personal, Virtual, Home.
Recap: (If you want to read the whole postcard then click HERE!) Bishop and Tipsy go out on a date without Mr. C. Cow. Mr. C. does not understand why he can’t go but, reluctantly, stays behind to hang out with Marslean. When they return from date night Mr. C. Cow is asleep on a pile of candles, there is a bulldozer covered in shaving cream, Marslean is in a panic over a soggy pizza box, and there is toilet paper stuck to the ceiling. Now…back to the action…..
I was in shock! How can such a mess be achieved in less than three hours time? In all honesty, I shouldn’t be shocked. Mr. C. Cow can make a tornado level mess of a kitchen in less then thirty minutes while making muffins. Less than three hours made me grateful that nothing was on fire.
After we roused Marslean out of her soggy pizza stupor and Mr. C. was put in a proper bed we started to piece together the evening:
Toilet Paper On The Ceiling: Since Mr. C. Cow didn’t have any streamers or party favors to make the evening “festive”, he used toilet paper. Marslean admitted that this was her idea. She thought it would keep him busy. It kept him busy all right!! While throwing the toilet paper into the air it caught on one of the sprinklers. Mr. C. left them there because they looked “good hanging off of them”.
Pre-Soggy Pizza: Since Mr. C. was decorating the place to make it feel like a party, Marslean decided to order pizza. This is probably one of the few things that makes any real sense out of the whole mess. Pizza I can understand.
The Candles Part 1: To continue with the party theme candles were brought out and lit. Too many candles were brought out and lit. As they burned there was much concern as to how many flames were being produced. In a panic, Mr. C. Cow grabbed a bottle of shaving cream instead of the fire extinguisher. As Marslean galloped around in a panic, shaving cream went flying everywhere. The candles were put out but the bulldozer suffered a bath in the stuff.
Wet Toilet Paper On The Ceiling: (At this point in the story Bishop was clenching his jaw.) While Marslean went to get the pizza delivery and try to de-stress, Mr. C. Cow was having none of it. De-stress? Ha! Not Mr. C.! He started moo-running in circles in a tizzy over almost burning the shop down. During this panic attack he tripped over the toilet paper hanging from the sprinklers and “WOOOSH!” water sprayed everywhere.
Now Soggy Pizza: As the water “WOOSH-ED” from the ceiling it hit the pizza boxes, instantly making them mushy. Mr. C. Cow collapsed on the pile of candles and went to sleep. Marslean was left to mourn the loss of dinner.
What? How? WAAAAAAA……
All I could do was shake my head and not be surprised that any of this happened. Bishop, calmly (with jaw still clenched) gave me a hug, and went to clean off the bulldozer. Lessons were learned that evening. Marslean learned of Mr. C. Cow’s exuberance for life. I learned that I should plan something constructive for him to do BEFORE going out on a date. Bishop learned that he shouldn’t leave random bottles of shaving cream in the shop. Mr. C. Cow learned that sleeping on candles is uncomfortable.
We’ve official made it to the 4th Of July! The picnic table is set. The grill is doing it’s grill thing. I put together a wonderful bar and Mr. C. Cow made a very patriotic looking cake with edible sparkles. Marslean’s firework spectacular is about ready to start and the party guests are full of the veggies Bishop grilled.
We all hope that you have a wonderful (and firework safe) holiday with all of your family and friends! To those that are not in the states, we hope that you all have a great (and firework safe…seriously….fire explosions!) day!
Hopefully I can get a piece of cake before Mr. C. Cow decides to start licking it.
The 4th of July is coming up in the states next week and it’s going to be a busy one. We’ll all be at home and Mr. C. Cow and I plan on doing a lot of cooking. He’s been pouring over cookbooks for the perfect deserts to go with grilled veggies while I’m trying to figure out how to light the grill. I’ve used a gas grill before but it’s been YEARS since I’ve attempted to use charcoal. Bishop might have to be in charge of the grill lighting. I’m afraid I’ll catch my giant beehive on fire.
Speaking of fire, we’re planning on letting Marslean handle the fireworks this year. Last year Mr. C. Cow was holding a sparkler and got a teeny tiny little burn on his hoof. It was so tiny that it probably hurt for a second. Despite the small injury, Mr. C. acted like his entire leg had caught on fire. We had to wrap all of his legs in gauze just to get him to stop crying. Marslean said there will be no sparklers this year. I think that’s a wise decision.
Since everyone seems to have a job to do to get ready for the holiday I’m at a loss as to where I am needed. I tried to move the picnic table in the shade but it was too big and heavy. Bishop and Mr. C. Cow had to move them around. I was going to get the nice tablecloth and place mats out but Marslean beat me to it. The only thing I’ve done so far is that awesome table centerpiece.
Mr. C. Cow sensed the lost look on my face and offered to let me help him do a bit of baking. I would but he’s really good at it. He can lay down a good fondant on a cake while I find myself tangled up in it like some sort of sugary trap. After a few minutes of sitting under a tree with a therapeutic martini, I decided that I am taking on the appetizers. I can crostini like a boss.
Sometimes we feel left out because we think our skills aren’t useful. It might take a martini rest under a tree before we find out that we are useful. All of us have something to offer.
All photos taken in Second Life at my personal home by me.