night pigs

Brian had one--count it, one--free weekend this summer, and as soon as I realized that, I slotted it for camping in Wisconsin. We went once last summer, and wanted to make a few key improvements this time around. 1) New equipment. See reference in an earlier post about drunkenly buying a tent... 2) Friends (Mark & Kim)! The more the merrier when you're killing time in the middle of nowhere.

quiet loop is the bomb

such a hot weekend, and I don't mean sexy

hammock = bliss

The weather was hot by Midwestern standards during the day (insert our friends, taking a nap in the car with the AC on...), but by nightfall it dropped a good 20 degrees and we slept in the high 60s.

Speaking of night...we enjoyed some amazing grilled food both evenings and then tied our garbage up onto a tree about 3 feet off the ground since there was no place close by to dump our trash.

Night 1: about 30 minutes after we got into our tent, Brian started making really soft snorting noises and then squeezing my hand, which clearly freaked me out because what sort of weirdo does that? When I hit him to STOP IT, I realized that not only was Brian not making that noise, but whatever was making it had surrounded our tent with a little rodent army. Snort...shuffle...snort...shuffle. We had a rain fly covering our tent so we had a really a limited view...meaning I couldn't exactly sketch a portrait of the invaders, BUT since they didn't do attack our trash I was sure we weren't dealing with raccoons...we were surrounded by night pigs.

And in case you're wondering, the fear of attack from mythical monsters is pretty much the best way to keep yourself COMPLETELY AWAKE in the wildnerness.

Night 2: The night pigs returned on schedule, just after we had quietly settled into our pine-needle-cushioned bed. After a quick game of "you do it - no you do it," Brian (fully armed but not at all dangerous) resorted to clanking a flashlight against a bat. Yes a bat like a wooden bat. (I've stopped asking questions.)

The night pigs were deterred for about a minute, juuuuust long enough to size up our trash bags and with a couple good swipes BAM that stinky piñata was all theirs! I wasn't as bothered by the mass destruction as I was by the fact that approximately every hour after that, a new crop of night pigs surrounded our tent, proceeded to the smorgasbord, snorted, feasted, and left. During which we woke up, Brian futilely tapped away at his flashlight-bat beatbox, and then dropped back to the ground in defeat.

Rinse. Repeat. Wake to a hot mess of disgustingness in your campsite.

Night pigs - 2 : Campers - 0

Aside from the invaders though, the weekend was exactly what it was intended to be. I had taken off of work Friday, so by the time Sunday rolled around, I was sufficiently decompressed. Maybe a little too decompressed, seeing as how the thought of leaving the hammock made me want to "cry like a titty baby," in the words of my eloquent mother. Loitering was the name of my game, so after Mark & Kim left, we lazed around the campsite, took the world's most leisurely hike, and then stopped three times on the way home. Perfecto!

a little morning game of beer die

 NBD, just carving her name into the table after sinking twice 

(from here on out, the game turned into an epic midday battle) 

this is what happens when you let the man determine the quantity of the food

making Kimmy WORK for it!

our Sunday hike, beautiful!

cats have birthdays too

And this one just turned 15!

 

It's hard for me to think about her age because I know cats can't live forever, but to maintain sanity I keep telling myself she's going to live forever!!!! She is my most precious companion, and I'm so happy she's not showing her age yet. 

I have loved Powder ever since I adopted her in 2005 (she was 8). She loved me as soon as she realized I was responsible for feeding her. But she has rarely given anyone else the time of day, thus earning her a reputation as "white Satan" in Memphis and again in Austin. However...since living in Chicago, she's become known for bigger and better things. Now sometimes those things are her lady balls*. But other times, it's that she's an elusive beauty. Or that if you just try hard enough...you too can pet her. 

Even Brian has come around to her over the years. Their relationship began with an awful lot of hissing and ignoring, but now I'm positive he's the preferred "parent." He caters to her in so many ways that I don't (I saw him put ice in her water bowl recently, what?!) and even though he wouldn't admit it, I think he would miss this little shed-ball if anything happened to her. He's even pushed to get a kitten so she'd have a friend, but in the interest of all parties staying alive, we're gonna hold out on that :)

Powder if you could do anything but sleep and poop on the rug read this, I would tell you we looooooove you - and your lady balls! Happy birthday!

*Her lady balls are really her stomach pouch, sometimes referred to as her foopah, belly, tummy sack, etc. It sort of looks like a Biggest Loser winner who now has to deal with the ramifications of having a giant pile of extra skin. For some reason, when her belly hangs down, it hangs in two parts. And when she walks away from you, they most closely resemble lady balls. Deal.

in the heat of summer

It seems like a good time to plant flowers during the apex of a heat wave, right? This way they have the least chance of survival, so I can't possibly be blamed for their failure!

giving petunias a whirl, although the name doesn't sound hearty enough for the neglect they've got coming their way