Posted in Food, Tourist Attraction

Cinna-Bund

Mr. C. Cow thought it a marvelous idea to inform me that he was holding a dinner party. My first response was to ask why we needed to hold a dinner party after we had held multiple parties though the holiday season. This past November through the first of January was nothing but appetizers, cocktails, and elegant dishes. Why did we need to hold a feast so soon after the holidays? Mr. C. Cow said it was because he wanted to wear a cummerbund. I don’t think he knows what a cummerbund is. I am assuming that he thinks it involves butter and cinnamon.

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This declaration of banquet festivities puts me on the spot. I have to go and purchase all of the ingredients to make the food as well as the drinks for everyone to enjoy. After that is done I have to clean the entire house. I’m not talking a quick sweep and go but a full blown cleaning. The kitchen has to be spotless. Mr. C. Cow’s hoof prints have to be washed off of the dinning room ceiling. On top of the cleaning I have to inform Bishop that Mr. C. Cow is on a cummerbund mission and we have to throw a party that involves toothpicks holding together tiny foods. I will have to take our lil’ cow friend to buy the cummerbund he desires because has no clue what one is.

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Kitchen is clean!

When Mr. C. Cow was properly introduced to a cummerbund he didn’t seem as thrilled as I thought he would be to wear it. He loved its lime green with purple stars design and the fit was good. I think Mr. C. thought he would look less like a waiter and more like an international spy in it. I’m hoping he’s not planning on trying to international-cow-of- mystery spy shop anytime soon.

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Don’t forget to set the tables properly!

As for the dinner party, it went surprisingly well. No one ate any of the toothpicks holding the tiny foods together. There were no cocktails spilled on the couch. I had a pleasant time and a clean house so I couldn’t complain. If Mr. C. Cow wants to throw another shindig in the (distant) future I’m all for it. Can’t let his lime green, purple star cummerbund sit in the closet too long.

“Tipsy” Cerulean 

Photos taken in Second Life by me! Woo!

Second Life Location: Restaurant Fresco (M) 

 

 

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Posted in Camping, Nature, Park, Tourist Attraction

S’more Math

It’s very difficult to find hiking boots that fit a tiny otter foot (paw…flipper…whatever..). Since my foot is so small others have suggested that I look in the children’s shoe section for a better size. Children with feet my size do not hike. They kinda waddle around and fall down a lot. No real market for hiking boots.

Mr. C. Cow can, strangely enough, find boots in his hoof size but has the problem of having to buy two pairs. Four hoofs = two pairs of hiking boots. He’s usually very thrifty and waits for a “buy one, get one half off” sale. As for where he gets boots for hoofs, I assume it’s the same place he finds anything else that fits a cow. The internet. Maybe I should browse the world-wide web for otter shoes.

Boot shopping aside, today we went camping instead of our usual nightly stay in the camper. The weather has been merciful so it’s not too hot or rainy to put up a tent. Gives me an opportunity to wash and hang bed sheets outside while giving Mr. C. Cow the opportunity to search for the perfect stick to roast s’mores on.

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Directions: Insert 1 Marshmallow Laden Stick Into Fire For Roasting. Do Not Catch On Fire!

My laundry endeavor was going brilliantly while Mr. C. Cow’s s’more stick search was not. I had managed to wash and hang multiple loads of blankets while he moo-plained about “this stick is too short” and “this stick looks too sticky”. In exchange for his help, I promised to help him find the perfect stick. His help proved to be pretty amazing as his blanket hanging skills made our campsite look like some sort of hippy blanket den. Right on!

As for the s’more stick search, this proved to be more difficult than I had imagined. Who knew that a stick had to be the perfect length, height, and width, as well as have a balanced marshmallow surface ratio. How am I suppose to figure out this whole surface balance ratio thing? Do I need to use a calculator or a protractor? Do we even own a protractor? Does anyone, actually, own a protractor and use it the correct way that isn’t a mathematician?

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Heeeerreee S’more Stick Stick Sticky Stick!

After much measuring and calculating, the proper s’more stick was put into service. To optimize our marshmallow output, our stick was able to accommodate, comfortably, twenty-three marshmallows. I, personally, don’t see the point of roasting twenty-three marshmallows for two individuals. Mr. C. Cow, on the other hand, does not see the point in not taking advantage of such a fine specimen of s’more stick.

One Cow + One Otter + Three Marshmallows Roasted = Two For Mr. C. Cow And One For Me. This seems like proper math! Mr. C. Cow, on the other hand, sees it as twenty-two for himself and one for me. Fair? Not really, but I don’t want more than one anyways. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t get marshmallow sick.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

All Photo’s Taken In Second Life By Me

Second Life Location: Trail’s End National Park (M)

If you’re wondering, the marshmallows were vegan. Neither Mr. C. Cow or I eat gelatin. (Especially after Mr. C. found out what gelatin is made of. Yikes!)

We actually do own a protractor and use it on a regular basis. Take that math!

 

Posted in Real Life

Off-Lawning

Bishop had to go lawn mower shopping the other day. The grass at the equipment company was getting a bit on the long side and our old mower wasn’t going to cut it anymore. (Get it! Lawn mower! Cut Grass!!) Our old mower was working just fine until Mr. C. Cow took it out for a joyride that he likes to call “Off-Lawning”. Lawn mowers were not meant for “Off-Lawning” adventures so this called for a trip to the hardware store.

Lawn mower shopping gives Mr. C. and I the perfect opportunity to try and figure out what all of the safety signs means on the equipment. Not sure if Bishop finds us humorous because he kept kicking tires on the mowers, sighing, and drinking his coffee while we were laughing at the stupidity of our safety sign interpretations. At one point Bishop did walk away. I thought it was because we were being overly stupid. Mr. C. Cow said he thought it was because he wanted to laugh at our jokes privately in a different aisle.

Bishop ended up coming back with the keys of one particular model he was interested in. It was called a “Huskdeerpowermow-something or other”. The safety sign on the keys was what started Mr. C. Cow and I off on another round of “Caption that safety sign!”.

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Eeeek! “Do not use slug baby as a tire jack!”

While we giggled (and were slightly horrified) by the sign on the set of mower keys Bishop did a “mumble grumble” sound then moved off to talk to a salesman. This gave us the perfect opportunity to check out more of the mowers fun safety sign features.

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“This Mower Can Be Used For Sweet Skateboarding Moves.”

We wondered why the guy doing his sweet moves was not wearing a helmet. He is, after all, a safety sign guy.

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“Calmly drive your mower into a burning brush fire.”

Maybe this one could also mean “In case of brush fire throw leaves on it while running it over.”

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“Attempting to sword fight while using this mower will lead to finger gouges.”

Can you picture someone trying to sword fight while mowing their lawn? I don’t think that’s the safest thing one could do while mowing. Maybe they should listen to the sign and save the sword fights for after the yard work is done.

Bishop decided to buy this lawnmower because it was perfect for the equipment companies lawn. Mr. C. Cow and I were happy he got it because we didn’t get to interpret all of its safety stickers.

Maybe later on this week, while Bishop is actually getting ready to mow, we can continue interpreting for you. Only if he let’s us get close enough to it. I know he’s keeping an eye on Mr. C. Cow.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

All safety sticker pictures were taken by me and are actually off of our riding lawnmower. We now, currently, have a nicely mowed lawn. 

In all seriousness, don’t be an idiot. Follow all safety rules and signs when operating something like a lawn mower. Don’t get hurt by being stupid!

Posted in Food, Tourist Attraction, Town/City

Rum Bucket

We stopped at a sea port the other day to do a bit of camper supplies refueling. Mr. C. Cow put on a pirate hat and a patch to try to fit in with the locals. I, personally, think that the fake parrot on his shoulder was going a bit overboard. He explained to me that, in these types of places, one must look the part. For some strange reason he felt that the shopping was best left to him. Mr. C kept mumble-mooing about “lingo”, “barter”, and “danger”. He is the most caring friend in the world and I trust him to not only keep me safe but re-supply the camper. It doesn’t hurt that he is did take swashbuckling classes in college.

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I decided that I would trust Mr. C. Cow. I didn’t exactly fit in with my outfit and I didn’t really feel like changing. A fake neon boa, 3 foot high (and perfectly sculpted I must say) beehive, and sunglasses the size of a bowling ball don’t make one look very sea harbor shanty town ahoy. Perfectly content I sat in the camper reading the latest “Martini Times” magazine. Even had the time to make and eat a cheese and cracker plate without anyone chewing up all of my crackers!

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Three hours later Mr. C. Cow came back with what could possibly be the best and worst items to ever be called camper supplies.

Gigantic Bucket Of Rum: GOOD!
Magic 8 Ball That Only Answers With An “Arrrr”: BAD!
Comfy Blanket: GOOD!
Toilet Paper Made Of Poky Wood Shavings: BAD!

I’m still trying to figure out how Mr. C. Cow felt that toilet paper made out of wood shavings was a positive purchase. He informed me that, when bartering with pirates, you sometimes have to make concessions. That kinda sounds like some sort of life advice. I’m, at least, grateful for a comfy blanket and a bucket of rum.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Location: Hedeby (M)

Posted in Food, Tourist Attraction

Cow Soup

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Today we stopped off at a grocery store to stock up on camper supplies. Mr. C. Cow was running low on soup and I was in need of dish soap. It’s weird trying to walk into a grocery store together. No one seems to notice an otter in a beehive but they sure do notice a cow. To combat the stares we usually put Mr. C. Cow in a large floppy hat. I guess that a cow in a hat isn’t as weird as just a plain old cow. We do have issues with pushing the cart because I can’t reach it with my stubby limbs. My lil cow doesn’t mind doing the pushing and even helps me reach things high up on a shelf.

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I have to say that I’m grateful for self check out lines because having to stand on a cow to pay is kinda embarrassing in front of a cashier. I’m really glad we only have to shop every so often. If I had to do this every week it would drive me bonkers.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Location: A&A Fresh Market (M)