8 Things and Eggsperiments

Such a busy day and so much to tell. Then I got all distracted meme-ing. (I was tagged by my fantabulous PRGE spoilee, then twice more; what choice did I have?) So maybe I’ll just throw a few sneak preview photos in this post, and write more tomorrow.

It’ll be a bit random, but would you have O’Kitten any other way?

The rules:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves. [Barb and Kitty <3’s say 7, but smartypins decided to make it 8.]
2. People who are tagged write a blog post about their own 8 random things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog you need to tag 8 people and post their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

1* I think I have a similar organizational system to pinsandneedles. Mine consists of making piles and filling various bags and shelves and cubbyholes with things, as if a little mouse or chipmunk were sorting nuts for the winter. But I do know where things are. And when I can't find something, I completely freak out, my whole world order is disrupted, and the space-time continuum is rent asunder.

Fortunately, I usually can find pretty much everything, even if I haven't seen it for two years and I only ever used it once. (That IS kind of weird, isn't it?)

Eggsperiment 1: Heath(er), 10 days old, is thriving

2* As a corollary, I am very good at finding lost items. My first husband was notoriously absent-minded. While traveling in Italy once, I found his passport, ID, and travelers cheques on a train in the station--he’d taken off the belt thing they were all in (you know, the one thing you’re never supposed to take off because all your most important stuff is in it) because he thought it was uncomfortable and then left it on the train when we disembarked in Rome.

I once found my retainer in a Wendy’s dumpster. Not the trash can, mind you, but in the dumpster out back. (I knew how much trouble I'd get in when I got home if I didn't...) Yeah, I’m the person that will find your contact lens or earring back under the bar or the seat of your car.

I think maybe I’m just in good standing with St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost articles. Then again, I’m not even Catholic.

Eggsperiment 2: Goldie had peeptuplets today!

3* Like shadkitty, I don't care much for swimming. Trying NOT to drown is supposed to be fun? I eventually learned to doggy paddle, but consider it only a survival skill for the direst of emergencies--like if I had to splash across, say, ten feet or so of perfectly calm, very warm water, I might possibly survive.

I don't even much like the shower, but perhaps it's all because I was raised by cats. And if I had one of their loofah tongues, I'd be just as happy never to set foot in the tub at all.

Eggsperiment 3: Two dozen in the incubator

4* If I can't blame my dislike of water on the cats, it may be because I was bitten by a Man’o’War on a trip to Florida when I was four years old. Or so I'm told, it's not as if I remember this incident. (Hey, I wonder if pinsandneedles’ Zombie Escape Plan would work for a pneumatophore attack?)

But I really think it's all thanks to a very bad swimming lesson experience. When I was six, we moved from Michigan to Georgia, where it’s very hot and humid, so swimming lessons seemed like a good idea and I was enrolled at a local pool.

During the first class the kids were forced to stick their heads under water and I completely panicked. I refused to go to another class; furthermore, I refused to go into a pool or even wear a swimsuit for the rest of that or even the following summer. (And I repeat: Georgia is very, very hot.) So either I was quite stubborn or extremely traumatized. As the smell of chlorine still gives me heart palpitations, I’m guessing the latter.

Tyr in the tub

5* I'm with Barb: I love me my coffee!

While Beth showed me how to wash fleece,
Chelsea made this

6* I was born on June 4, 1968 ~ the day Robert F. Kennedy was shot. All in all, it was quite a year. Or so I’ve been led to believe.

Betty gets a hat

7* In general, I like animals better than people. They are far easier to get along with.


Merino on the newly-christened Ariadne


8* Don’t worry, I’m not tagging you. No tagging. If you feel like posting some things, go ahead, I like memes. I’m going to break rules #3 and 4 because, well, I’m like that.