Ottawa, Halifax, Home, Halifax, School

It's been a fast and furious couple of days. On Friday morning I left my wonderful friends Christina and James and headed back to the beautiful East Coast.

Friday morning I was picked up by the one and only Boyfriend, who long story short, tricked me and attacked me with a behind-hug and I screamed/swore so loud I tainted small children around me.

Ryan helped me move into the apartment and I fell in love with the apartment. It's beautiful AND kitteh friendly!

On Saturday I help Beth move out of residence. I got to see my momma, little sissa, big sissa, papa, and KITTEHS all in one day!

Sunday was a flurry of Easter, mom's birthday, cottage, little cousins, big cousins, and all my grandparents. And I got to see Mal and Seth, my favourite couple in the world!!

Monday morning 5am is french toast time apparently. Dad and I bonded over fried bread, corn syrup, and nutella.

Now, momma and I are en route back to the big H for another semester of schooling. Wish me luck.

The End :3 

Rural Nova Scotians vs. Haligonians

I’ve spent a few years in Halifax now, so I think I can make a few comparisons. Even though these are from my own experiences, feel free to share your own.

PS, I know these are stereotypes, and I don’t really care. They’re all basically true no matter what your specific situation may say. This is for the masses.

Rural Nova Scotians are known for being relaxed, easy going, and  they don’t take like too seriously. City folks are a little faster paced, abrasive, maybe a little ruder. But, if you mess with someone from a rural area you will get your ass kicked by everyone and their grandmother, and a city person will just let it roll off their shoulders.

When someone knocks on a rural door we’re going to assume that you’re a stranger and we’ll think it’s pretty odd if we actually know you. When someone knocks on a city door it’s probably their grandparents, who called ahead, and you were aware they were coming hours in advance.

Boyfriend made fun of me for not knocking when we were out visiting my friends and such and I said, “That’s not true, I knock almost everywhere I go now!” He said “Yeah, only because you try the doorknob first.”

Rural dwellers will also think it’s odd if you ask them for something from your fridge. We’re not your maid, get it yourself. If you open a city fridge it’s almost like you’re invading their privacy and their deepest secrets. Also, rural fridges are full. City fridges are not.
Rural Nova Scotians love food, there is absolutely no denying that. Almost every function revolves around food. But they only love the food they grew up with; fish, rabbit, duck, deer, potatoes, carrots, stew, etc. City people are more open to different cultures, different food, and of course more things in moderation.

When someone moves in the country they have all the necessary equipment: trucks, furniture (from every member of your family) and free labour including painting and decorating. When someone moves in the city you need: a u-Haul, a trip to the furniture store, and about 4 days to do it all yourself.

Also, you never know your neighbour in the city but in a small town you know everyone’s business and they know yours. I asked Boyfriend if I could bring a batch of cookies to my neighbours and he said I could but then I’d be the weird girl trying to poison everyone. My nanny came home to unmarked wrapped meat in a plastic bag on her door handle and she had it for supper that night. It turned out to be deer. She lived.

*Update: Boyfriend says that in suburban areas of Dartmouth they’ll have block parties and bbq’s and your neighbours don’t care if you run across their lawn or play street hockey in front of their house.

When someone wants to go to university from the country it’s a big effing deal, and you should probably get praised and asked about it every time you go home. They probably won’t make it all the way and they’ll end up on the water anyway but it’s the thought that counts. When someone goes to university in the city it’s the next natural step in life and they go on to do wonderful things.

We went to my sisters university graduation (I won’t name which but it’s not hard to figure out) and she was the only one from her high school class to graduate on time. The only one. We triple check and she went to two high schools. That’s pretty sad.

Rural Nova Scotians are willing to drive an hour or more just to visit friends, go to a party, go to a movie, go shopping etc. And they never walk anywhere. It’s normal to see a car with 300,000 clicks or more. For city people it pains them to drive 10 clicks out of their way, and if they can walk there they will. And when the odometer runs over 100,000 clicks it’s the end of the world.

When someone from the country tries to tell someone where they live they’ll probably say something like “Yeah when you see the store on your left slow down, you’ll go over a hill and there a log pile on your right and it’s the long driveway after that.” Side note: this is actually how I tell people to get to my house. When someone from the city tells someone where they live they’ll give street names, house numbers, unit numbers, apartment numbers, buzzer numbers, and whatever else super specific directions they’ll need.

Rural Nova Scotians have their own unique slang. You’ll often year sentences like, “Who’s boy am ya? Who’s your dad? Let’s go get a big mug up at the fish shack. I need a Dan’s mug up! Let’s take a tour and have a yarn in my new wag. Yeap like the fella said. Ain’t no way son! Com’on LIKE! Eh? Hiyi! Das say son. I could go on all day but I won’t. The most common slang you’ll here in the city is ebonics. This isn’t offensive, I looked it up.

Rural women typically like “Hungry Men” (see Jade Malone’s full definition http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hungry%20Man&defid=5714458). And Haligonians love a variety of rural, city, foreign, and the like.

A truck is a thing of pride in rural Nova Scotia and we can and will make fun of your low riding city cars when they can’t make it up our driveways without bottoming out. That being said, city people can make fun of us for filling up a $150 tank and it only lasting us a few days.

Well that’s all I can think of for now, but feel free to comment and leave your own! I’ll probably update it as this blog progresses.
The End :3
 
 
 

Animal Family Tree

The Nickerson Family Animal, and Other Special Occurances, Timeline

Dinner time is a family affair :3 From back to front: Smudgie, Figaro, Cooper

1985 – Joel & Christine get married, Sandy (dog) born 1980, Little Tee (cat) died same year

1986 - Dusty (cat)

1987 – Vanessa is born

1988

1989

1990 – Joelle is born, Sandy died

1991- Frisky (cat), Dusty is missing in action

1992 – Beth is born, Spot (dog)

1993- Mittens (cat), Pepper (cat)

1994

1995 – Babe (dog) Frisky died, Spot died

1996

1997

1998

1999 – Muffin Sugar Frosting (cat) Chloe (cat), Pepper is missing in action

Muffin :3

2000 – Peaches (hamster)

2001

2002 – Gizmo (cat) died the same year, Mischief (cat) died the same year, Peaches died

2003 – Figaro (c) (d. 2010), Jimmy (rabbit), Cotton Ball (rabbit), Chloe is missing in action

Me and my baby Figaro! <3

2004- Mittens died, Jimmy & Cotton Ball died

2005 

2006 – Martha (cat) died the same year, Bear (cat) , Hank (cat) 2007 , Fluffy (cat) died the same year, Smudgie (cat), Babe died

Smudgie likes: bags, baskets, sinks 

dislikes: cuddles, every other animal except Muffin

2007- Hank died

2008- Bear is missing in action

2009 – Cooper the Trooper aka Fatty, Faggot, etc. (cat), Cleo (dog)  

Fatty and Cleo were besties from the start 

2010 – Duke (dog), Special Agent Jack Bauer aka Willow (cat), Norge aka Pussy Willow (cat), Duchene (cat) missing in action, Wolfgang aka Patty (cat) outside cat

                                          Duke!                     Baby kitties Norge, Wolfgang, Duchenne          

Beautiful Willow aka Mama aka SAJB

2011- Duke died, Current count: Muffin, Cooper, Willow, Pussy Willow, Smudgie, Patty is an outside cat (half wild), Cleo (with Vanessa)

That's a grand total of 21 cats and 5 dogs!

Almost every animal we’ve had we’ve either gotten from the SPCA, the streets, or from neighbours who could no longer afford their animal, or their animal got unexpectedly pregnant. The only animal we’ve had that was pregnant was Martha, but she came to us in the late stages of her pregnancy.

We always get our animals fixed, we always encourage people to fix their animals, and we do not encourage animal breeders, puppy mills, etc.

Side note: We’ve had various fish, one Siamese fighting fish, Coral, I had for 3 years, but you don’t really form attachments to fish when you have a literal farm around your ankles. Also, the more we grow up the more animals we seem rescue.

PLEASE spay and neuter your animals. Rescue homeless animals adopt from the SPCA and the humane society. Stray animals are good animals, if they’re not wild, not dangerous, and just a little dirty, they only need some love and they’ll be the best pet you’ve ever had (example: every pet we’ve had!). 

 The eff? 

Lobsters, Dinosaurs, and Aliens, Oh My!

The fossil record of clawed lobsters extends back at least to the Valanginian Age of the Cretaceous.  That means lobsters were homies with dinosaurs!  

Lobsters are invertebrates, with a hard protective exoskeleton. Like most arthropods, lobsters must molt in order to grow, which leaves them vulnerable. During the molting process, several species change color.

This color DOES NOT include bright red. Lobsters turn red after they are boiled, hence why pop culture and the media portrays them as red. Because they’re ignorant and they’ve never packed lobsters at 2am on Boxing Day.

Lobsters can be black, brown, purple, green, grey, orange, and even bright blue!

Why does a lobster turn red when cooked?

The red pigment is the most stable component of the coloring in a lobster shell. The greens and browns which darken the shell in a live lobster are destroyed by cooking.

If you think lobsters are red when they are in the wild and alive you sir are a cotton headed ninny muggins and will be treated as such.

Lobsters, like snails and spiders, have blue blood due to the presence of haemocyanin contains copper. Also, lobsters are very snobbish like societal Blue Bloods and have many servants within their household which they do not treat nicely at all.  

A male lobster is called a cock and a female a hen or chicken.

Berried females carry thousands of eggs attached to their swimmerets. Depending on water temperatures, the eggs will remain attached for about a year on average.  Only .1% of the eggs will make it over six weeks after being dropped.

If a lobster happens to lose a limb in a fight (lobsters have turf wars!), something bigger was trying to eat it, or it amputates a limb in fear of being killed, it was grow whatever limb it loses back, much like a lizard’s tail.

Recent research suggests that lobsters may not slow down, weaken, or lose fertility with age. In fact, older lobsters are more fertile than younger lobsters. It has been argued that lobsters may exhibit negligible senescence and some scientists have claimed that they could effectively live indefinitely, barring injury, disease, capture, etc.

 “Imma chill with dino’s then kick it with post apocalyptic aliens k?”

According to the Guinness World Records, the largest lobster was caught in Nova Scotia, Canada, and weighed 20.15 kilograms (44.4 lb

I’m more interested in looking at the diver meOW!

Lobsters are omnivores, and typically eat live prey such as fish, molluscs, other crustaceans, worms, and some plant life. They scavenge if necessary, and may resort to cannibalism in captivity.  

Because of their scavenging nature lobsters are known as the cockroaches of the sea

In early times lobsters were known as “poor mans food” and only after lobster was popularized it was a constant source of shame to bring a lobster sandwich to work or school.

Now, lobster sandwiches with mayo and onion on toasted bread are a coveted home food! Along with lobster chowder, lobster dip, lobster omelette, and a recipe I’m almost certain my family made up called “crabbies” which were originally made with crab meat but of course we changed it to lobster.

The most common lobster fishing vessel is the Cape Islander! A Cape Island style fishing boat is a single keeled flat bottom at the stern and more rounded towards the bow. It originated on Cape Sable Island, Nova Scotia about 1905. (Various online sources cite years 1905, 1906, and 1907.

The design is most commonly credited to Ephraim Atkinson of Clark's Harbour, Nova Scotia. The other claim to the boat's design is an accomplished boat-builder from Clark's Harbour, William A. Kenney, who is said to have constructed the first Cape Islander entirely from wood in 1905.

This boat can now be seen in use all over coastal Nova Scotia, North America, and the world.

So love your lobster, ever though they will crush your hand into oblivion, stink up your house for eternity when you boil them, your dad needs his special knife just to shuck them (yes, shuck), and they generally don’t even taste that good without being made into something else. Enjoy.

The End :3

Sources

Content: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lobster
Alien: http://www.crtoys.ca/images/neca_avpr_alien.jpg
Lobster: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/photos/uncategorized/2009/01/13/lobster.jpg
Dinosaur:http://www.zmescience.com/wpcontent/uploads/2008/08/papo_velociraptor_dinosaur_toys.jpg
Cadbury : http://content7.flixster.com/photo/11/29/97/11299749_gal.jpg
Cooked lobster: http://www.canada-seafood.com/images/Lobster.jpg
Pregnant lobster: http://njscuba.net/zzz_uw/riggy_lobster_berries.jpg
Elf : http://www.google.ca/images?hl=en&safe=active&gbv=2&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=elf+raccoon&aq=f&aqi=&aql=&oq=
Lobster close up: http://usa.stockfood.com/images-pictures/Close%20Up%20of%20Live%20Maine%20Lobster%20Face-689137.jpg
Lobster under ocean: http://www.bb-films.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/lobster.jpg
Dinosaur: http://herdingcats.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341ca4d953ef0128760c9125970c-800wi
Large lobster: http://www.diveplanet.co.nz/myimages/milo_1.jpg
Hannibal lobster: http://lobstertube.info/lobsterDM0811_468x521.jpg
Hannibal Lecter: http://www.celeb-soundboards.com/thumbs/hannibal-lecter.jpg
Lobster sandwich : http://www.nypost.com/pagesixmag/issues/20080622/images/food/exclusivedishes/4.jpg
Cape islander: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:YarmouthNS_FishingBoats.jpg
Content: My magnificent random fact remembering mind

The World Game

I’m not sure where this game came from, and if anyone else has ever played it but didn’t learn it from us please let me know. I am very curious as to where this came from, or if we just made it up. Who knows?
 
This game is best played on the sand bar but we have definitely played it in our dirt driveway.
 
Step 1) Make a gigantic circle in the ground with a stick (try to be as even as possible and don’t make a weird egg)
 
Step 2) Divide the circle into however many participants you have. Try to be fair and don’t give your little sister the smallest bit.
 
Step 3) Name your piece with a country that starts with the same letter as your name. I was always Japan, Jamaica, or Jordan, Vanessa was Venezuela, and Beth was Bermuda or Bahamas.
 
Step 4) Find a softish object that you can still throw without it being caught in the wind. A flip flop works nicely.
 
Step 5) Whoever made the circle goes first. They take the flip flop, edge towards the end of their “country” scream a country and then throw the flip flop onto their land. Ex. If I made the circle I would take the flip flop and yell “Bahamas!” Then throw it on their land.
a) The flip flop must land on their land.
b) Fake outs are accepted.
c) You generally want to throw it to whoever is furthest away from you.
 
Step 6) As soon as you hear a country called you run as fast as you can away from that country.
 
Step 7) Whoever it was thrown at has to run to the flip flop as quickly as they can and yell freeze!
a) Everyone must stop exactly as they are.
 
Step 8) The person holding the flip flop assesses who is around, chooses who is closest, walks to the edge of their land, and then tosses the flip flop at them.
a) You cannot walk off your land.
b) Whoever is being thrown at can duck or move their body whatever way they can without moving their feet.
 
Step 9) If the person is hit whoever threw the flip flop can now steal land from this person. If the person is not hit, the one being thrown at gets to steal land from the thrower. Stealing land is tricky and the rules are debated almost every time.
a) To steal land you have to use one finger on one hand to swipe a usually semi circular shape piece of land from the others land.
b) You cannot lift your feet while swiping land.
c) You can only use one hand.
d) When your piece is taken you erase the old line dividing your land and now this piece is yours to stand on.
 
Step 10)  Whoever was thrown at now has the flip flop and repeats step 1 through 9.
 
Step 11) You lose this game when all of your land is taken, and you win the game when you have conquered the entire world. I cannot remember a single instance where someone has taken over the world.
a) Usually the tide comes in and destroys your world.
b) You get tired of the game after the first person gets out.
c) There are so many other things to do on the beach.
 
Anyways, we had a tonne of fun playing this game and I hope other people played it too! It’s a cute classic kid beach game.
 
Update: According to Jared people play it in PEI, so we probably didn’t make it up.
Update 2: I guess Aunt Wanda found it in a book of outside games for kids! Thanks Tash :)

Imma Write What I Want for 5 Minutes

Free writing — also called stream-of-consciousness writing — is a prewriting technique in which a person writes continuously for a set period of time without regard to spelling, grammar, or topic. It produces raw, often unusable material, but helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and self-criticism.
 
Do you ever feel, like a plastic bag, floating in the wind.. I love Katy Perry’s new song but I wish she would have used leaf or fether or some shit instead of a plastic bag. Plastic bag just reminds me of all the trash, litter, useless consumerism, waste, blah blah vlah that we see everyday.
 
I have an epic theory about how over consumtion is the leader in every world problem at the moment. I can link it to debt, obsesity, crime, unhappiness, health, etc. But I won’t talk about that right now because IMMA WRITE WHAT I WANT.
 
Also, I notice that I’m typing this very quickly as if I want to fit in as mauch drivvle as I possibly can, and since Im not giving any regard to spelling or grammar its kinf of dfreaking me out. The faster I go the more mistakes I make ACK,
 
Oh well. This is my blog and You will like it. Why did I capitalize you? Well I’m not really syre. Felt right at the time. Wevryone should free wirte weeeeeee I’m in the mood for school.
 
I’ve been in Ottawa for like a millino days and I come home in 11 days!! Like WTF I just got out here! I love my friends that I’ve made, my coworkers, the city, my house, blah blah blah but I am defsies ready to come hoje. Like right meow.
 
Going to school in the summer will ne a challenge but I can do ittttttt. Becaue every other co-op PR student will be sitting next to me experiencing the same exact angst.
 
Summer is beautiful, the begginng of fall is GORGOUES. I just love it. MAN my spelling sucks when I’m not looking at it and just type ype typeingnngngngnngng GROSS>
 
HMMM maybe it’s just because I’m super bored at work, I don’t kknow but free writing is the shiz.
 
Words to live by: Youi’ll be happy when you want to be happy. Too maby people just reach for the next thing, the next experience, the next item, oh when I have this ill be happy! When summer comes I’ll be hppy! NO. You’d be happy right now if you wanted to bw happy. I was feelign down this morning so I listen 100 things that I like and that make me happy. Instant happiness. I’m tired because of a thunder and lightning storm last night, I had my first panic attack this morning, but I like to stay POSITIVE and say hello world, what’s going on?! (4 non blondes style)
 
There is so much to be thankful for if you dare to look for them!!
 
 
 
 
 

50 More Things That are Awesome

51) How wide Sam Tsui’s mouth gets when he sings.
52) When Ellen Degeneres dances.
53) When strangers say I Love You to whoever they’re talking to on the phone.
54) When cats purr so loud you can hear it over the phone when you’re talking to your mom.
55) The feeling of being genuinely loved.
56) Generous people.
57) People who always see the bright side of things.
58) My hometown accent. Wags and mug-ups included.
59) People who really like my accent. A lot. Rob Drakos.
60) People who actually listen instead of waiting for their turn to speak.
61) The smell the air gets when it’s about to snow.
62) Pictures kids draw/colour/paint for you.
63) Teaching your dog tricks and them catching on super quickly.
64) Remembering a phone number that you haven’t dialled in years.
65) Chicken soup when you’re sick.
66) Discovering a website that you love and visit everyday.
67) Being able to play an instrument.
68) When people text back instantly.
69) Finding a new favourite show and there’s lots of episodes and seasons.
70) People who understand when I say I miss the ocean.
71) Falling asleep to the sound of the ocean.
72) Church bells on Sunday morning.
73) French toast on Sunday’s.
74) Sunday dinner.
75) Sitting in the same spot you’ve always sat in forever at the dinner table.
76) The world game.
77) The first time walking on the sand bar in the summer.
78) When my credit card balance says $0.
79) Paying my cell bill on time.
80) Walking with no purpose and no destination.
81) Biscuits from Grandma’s.
82) Jam on biscuits.
83) Memorizing my bankcard number but not being able to remember my own phone number.
84) Parades that hand out candy.
85) Driving and then arriving at your destination and realizing you day dreamed the whole time and you can’t remember how you got home.
86) Awesome coupons.
87) Squishing dough in between your hands.
88) Homemade play-doh that is still warm.
89) Post-it notes.
90) Hilarious movies with a million quotable lines. Right meow.
91) Still being able to wear clothes from high school.
92) Seeing teachers outside of school at like the grocery store.
93) Playing board games.
94) Playing cards with Nanny and getting swore at.
95) Lego.
96) Watching lobsters crawl on the floor.
97) When cats make funny noises when you have food and they want it.
98) Getting a cat to sit like a kangaroo.
99) Kitty nose touches.
100) Holding hands.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

50 Things That I Think are Awesome

1) Popping a can of pop.
2) Freshly shaved legs against warm sheets.
3) New socks.
4) Biting into a big red juicy apple.
5) Barely toasted white bread with butter.
6) The first scoop out of a jar.
7) When cats lay on their backs in the crease your legs make.
8) The smell of sun warmed sand.
9) Pinkwinks.
10) A starry sky.
11) Candy with a different type of candy in the center.
12) Pencil rolling down a grassy hill.
13) Cracking a banana.
14) Rootbeer popsicles.
15) The smell of more than one barbecue when you’re walking down the street.
16) Kicking your shoes up really high while swinging.
17) Grilled cheese when the cheese squishes out of the side.
18) Cutting into construction paper.
19) Melt beads.
20) When kids say “Um hey um ya umm hey guess what!” Followed by something completely silly.
21) When cats sleep in sunspots.
22) Falling asleep during a movie and waking up during the credits so you can turn it off and not wake up to annoying menu music.
23) Walking barefoot.
24) Eating something that was alive earlier in the day.
25) When dogs get super excited when they see a leash.
26) Getting more timbits than you wanted (especially if it’s the kind you really like).
27) Discovering a new favourite song.
28) Extremely flamboyant and different people who walk with a certain confidence and you can tell they love their lives.
29) Truck rides just to look at fall leaves.
30) Running your hand in the water while taking a boat ride.
31) Digging for clams and not cutting your fingers.
32) Sitting on the shore and letting the warm waves push you around.
33) Dreaming something super silly and laughing about it the next day.
34) Forehead kisses.
35) Perfectly sized hugs when you can rest your head beneath their chin.
36) Run-and-jump hugs.
37) Having just enough gas to run your errands and then get gas on the way home.
38) Sleeping in the car and waking up when you get home.
39) Getting your hair dyed, cut, and styled, for way less than you expected to pay.
40) Cloud watching.
41) Piling warm laundry on  your legs and folding it while watching TV.
42) Channels without commercials.
43) Calling someone and them saying “I was JUST thinking about you!” This happens about once a week with my mama and I.
44) Random heart felt compliments.
45) Laughing hysterically with friends about nothing.
46) Inside jokes.
47) Having sleepovers as an adult.
48) Hole punch hole confetti.
49) Being a perfect little spoon.
50) Getting an answer on Jeopardy! that none of the contestants got.

A Truly Thankful Thanksgiving

Cooper the Trooper is justly named. He was born under some porch steps, endured a hurricane, lived outside for the first 4 weeks of his life, and has thus far survived the farm at home.

Seriously, he was ugly as sin. 

I already told of Cooper’s humble beginnings in a previous post, but what I didn’t mention was Cooper’s two month vacation.

I lived in The Little Grey Cottage this weekend and if you’ve ever spent any amount of time with me you’ve been to the cottage. Horribly run down with no heat, bats, and enough charm to charm a cobra in a basket.

Anyway, I was missing Cooper because I have never really lived with him so he came to stay with me. After a failed attempt and then a re-move in with my parents my Uncle Gene who was caretaker tragically passed away and so we had to move.

Unfortunately for Cooper, he didn’t get the memo. Also unfortunately for Cooper, my family and I were too dumb to put up posters advertising that he was our cat and how to get a hold of us.

But, through the magic of small-towness our old neighbours called my aunt asking if she had lost a cat, and fortunately she remembered that we had lost a cat. The call came over Thanksgiving weekend when I was home, and it was the best Thanksgiving ever.

It should also be noted that since Cooper has been reunited with our home he has gained about 6 or 7 pounds in 6 months, and barely leaves the house. Cooper knows how to survive, but he also knows when he has it good. I think this is a lesson we could all learn from.

Kitteh Party Fail

Let me start off by saying that if you have any additional annecdotes about this night and this kid please share :3

Stupidly, I allowed myself to be suckered into throwing a New Years Eve party. And I also put it on Facbook. Two no-no’s in one. Long story short, I ended up with about 300 people in my house throughout the house and over $100 worth of empties.
 
Like WTF that’s over 1000 empties if they’re all glass. Which they weren’t because my home town has a weird affinity for rev’s. Yup, everyone jumps on the rev train.
 
Anyway, not the point, the point is that there may or may not have been a lot of minors at the party, and one in particular got super trashed. Without naming names, but I’m sure we all remember who he was, decided that he loved Muffin. He loved Muffin so much that he decided to carry him around all night next to his black hoodie.
 
Muffin being a docile and ginger cat stayed close because he loves snuggles but he ended up being covered in hair. I think at one point he tried to deny smothering my cat, but the evidence was clear.
 
He carried him around, called him his Muffin, and just about had a melt down when Muffin said enough was enough and ran away.
 
Trying to avoid a temper tantrum (I assume all kids as young as he was still have temper tantrums) I thought I would try and interest him in a different cat, and the only one I could find was Smudgie. I don’t know if someone had gotten Smudgie drunk or what but she was the most loving I had ever seen her.
 
So, I learned my lesson, and I had two parties in one (first and last) and I learned a very important lesson about teens. Give them a cat and they’re good to go.
 
The End :3

Kittehs Know how to Cure the Swine Flu

Whenever I tell people I had the Swine Flu they recoil in disgust like I just told them I have herpes. Seriously people, the Swine Flu was just an intense flu. And when I say intense I mean the worst I’ve ever felt in my entire life, and I’ve been sick a lot.
 
It all started with Upper Clements Park. I worked for a day camp in Halifax and we took a day trip to Upper Clements Park with all the kids. While there I must have gotten in contact with a sick kid (go figure).
 
Luckily Aunt Wanda and Uncle Corey were in the city and offered me a ride home that night. All was going well, we arrived in Woods Harbour super late and the next morning my life was over.
 
Around 8am my mama was talking to Grandma on the phone arranging for her to come over, and when she hung up I was like uhhh I think you should call Grandma back I’m not feeling very well.
 
5 minutes later I was on the couch in total agony.
 
The Swine Flu hit me like a tonne of bricks, and I didn’t move off the couch for 5 days.
 
Muffin is Grand Massa of all cats. He is about 12 or 13 years old, and is the biggest snuggler kitteh that ever lived. As soon as I hit that couch Muffin’s human-sitting-still sensor went off and he was on my lap in a second.
 
Muffin was by my side day and night while I was on that couch. He didn’t move and neither did I. I swear by cat and dog healing powers. Your pets know when you’re upset, they know when you’re sick, and they know how to make you feel better.
 
I was half scared I was going to make Muffin sick, because there were all kinds of reports of cats and ferrets getting the Swine Flu. Fortunately unfortunately I only made mama sick. Dad sat in his chair two feet away from my dying body and he got nothing. Beth holed herself in her room (understandably) and Vanessa wouldn’t even come in the house.
 
This post of for everyone who has ever had a pet that made you feel better just by being there.
 

Dogs Don’t Understand Weight

Our mutt Cleo had a complex when she was little and thought that she was too cute to walk. While this may be mostly true, she ended up being carried everywhere and has developed the notion that she should always be carried, held, and sitting on something warm.
 
This started out okay when she was little more than a fluff ball with a tail. But then she grew. And grew. And grew. Now she is a fully grown, two year old husky sheep dog mix, and she doesn’t understand simple concepts like weight.
 
It’s a common trick for us to show new people who come around what a big rag doll she is. We flip her around, pick her up by the four legs, carry her baby style, and we even fireman carry her. But one thing she doesn’t understand is she is heavy.
 
Riding in the front seat of Vanessa’s car is a dangerous game, because Cleo grew up thinking it was her seat, and she will steal it every opportunity she gets; whether you’re sitting there or not.
 
She will jump on you when you’re sitting on the couch, and she especially likes to walk on you when you’re sitting on the ground. This summer Ryan and I were sitting on the grass enjoying the ocean when Cleo came up behind us, stuck her nose in between our shoulders, and managed to wiggle herself in between our legs to lie down.
 
She will also do this in bed. No matter what, she is going to sleep on the bed because she’s spoiled rotten.
 
Also, she has a weird undergarment stealing fetish. She might be a pervert.
 
 

My Dog Kicks All Kinds of Ass

Babe. The best, most well fitting name, for the most amazing dog that ever existed. A trembling little ball of black fur, we brought Babe home from Jordan Falls from some family who never bothered to get their dog fixed.
 
Although unfixed animals evoke uncontrollable rage from me, this is one instance where the good animal god’s were smiling down upon our family. Even though I was only 5 at the time, I remember mom walking around with Babe in her arms, and we chose him because he was the only one not running around like he just had heroine injected straight into his heart.
 
Timid, trembling, and oh so sweet, we took him to my grandparents cottage to show off the newest member of the Nickerson family.
 
The first few years are extremely vague to me, as I was no more than a toddler, but I do seem to remember my 3 year old sister attempting to poke a pencil in his nose and consequently getting him in the eye.
 
Babe, although the most awesome dog ever, was also the most useless dog ever.
 
Fetch usually went something like this.
 
Me: *picks up stick* Here Babe, you want the stick? Here’s the stick!
Babe: *jumping around in excitement*
Me: *throws stick* Go get it boy!
Babe: *still jumping around in excitement*
Me: Go get it boy!
Babe: *runs in opposite direction*
Me: *facepalm*
 
My family and I practically lived at the beach in the summer. Sandbars, clam digging, sandcastles, The World Game (a post to come about this epic game), and of course SWIMMING.
 
Babe participated in all beach activities, except swimming. Babe would walk a kilometre to avoid a simple puddle, and there was no way you would ever make him swim.
 
I’m not sure if he thought he didn’t know how to swim, but he absolutely refused to step into the water.
 
Nova Scotia has one of the most extreme tides in the world, a close second to the Amazon River, and so you do not want to get caught unawares on the sandbar. While walking one fine summer day we did not manage to make it back to the shore before the sandbar was completely enclosed in water as if we were on a mini disappearing island.
 
After a lot of coaxing, pushing, pulling, and eventually a fireman carry from my dad, we managed to get the barking, squealing, wriggling mess that was Babe back to dry land where the world made sense.
 
Also, Babe was the biggest sook that ever lived and was terrified of the cats.
 
Babe greeted us with an undying enthusiasm everyday when my sisters and I would walk up the driveway after school, he snuggled us constantly as the couch was his bed, and he would only ever sleep on the very end of the bed, as if we was the protector.
 
Babe came to every baseball game, every picnic, every beach day, every van ride (PRE tan-van, perhaps the old green box will get a post). He was everyone’s best friends, never barked, only howled when we encouraged him, loved walks, and was the best freakin dog ever.
 
Babe lived about 11 years and taking him on his last walk was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
 
This post is for you Babe, the non-swimmer, non-fetcher, snuggler, best friend, official little brother, and the best dog anyone could ever hope to grow up with.
 

Martha's Tale

As I have mention before in my post The Most Ungrateful Cat That Ever Lived, my family and I had to great pleasure of hand feeding four newborn kittens. This is their story.

Martha has wandered into my mother and aunt`s Bed and Breakfast`s lawn, pregnant, desperate, single, looking for answers, she looked to my family for shelter and solace (did I mention I have a very dramatic imagination?).

Martha soon became a member of the family, frolicking around the meticulous lawn, letting anyone rub her bulging belly.

A few weeks after Martha jumped into our lives she bore her litter in the barn on Muffin’s bed (there will be a story about the famous bed in due course) and there lay four beautiful black kittens. Bear, Fluffy, Hank, and Smudgie.

All was well at the Island Breeze Inn and its charming barn until disaster struck two short weeks after. I was there alone, 15 years old taking messages on the phone and greeting travelers as they came in. I checked on the kittens as we often did, and their mother was nowhere to be found.

I called and called and a few hours later, the kittens crying, desperate for nourishment and their mothers soft warm presence, I found Martha dead in the road. Flies buzzing around her wound she was stiff as a board and unmistakably dead.

I was shocked, but I gathered my courage and tried to give Martha some dignity by carrying her into the yard. Stiff with rigor mortis and cold I was instantly traumatized as this is the closest I had ever been to death. Well, other than the occasional mouse and mole I had to sweep off the front steps that our other cats probably thought was an offer of gratitude, or a warning of something to come, whatever.

I called my mother, my aunt, everyone, someone to come over and help me. I was alone and confused and oh so sad thinking of the poor kittens crying for their mother, but she would never come back again.

My mother called the vet, asked them what to do, and said that a simple mixture of egg, milk, and syrup warmed up and fed through a dropper would be just fine for the kittehs. We fed and fed and fed thouse kittehs for two or three more weeks until they could eat kitten food on their own.

At first it was really exciting, bringing the kittehs everywhere we went. We had this big cylindrical laundry basket we transported them in that zipped and prevented them from escaping. We brought them to the beach, a house party, the Inn, and of course shared them between our house and my aunt’s.

We taught them this awesome trick to follow the dropper and climb up our pant legs to get food. This was okay until they grew up past cute little fluff ball and started gaining weight. Then it became a house hold hazard to stand in one place for too long for fear of having four kittens attack from all sides.

Hank was ferocious for food, and we always had to feed him first and then lock him away so that we could focus on the others.

Eventually we split the brood into twos and we had Fluffy and Smudgie, and aunt took Hank and Bear. Over the years the cats have gone missing or gotten killed. But not Smudgle. Oh no. She is much MUCH too spiteful to leave this earth. She has already outlived her entire family, and will probably grace us with her presence for 6 more years.

To give my mother credit, Smudgie is her cat an only complains about her once in a great while, and pretty much just puts up with her bullshit of waking up the house at 3am every morning and biting everyone. Because that’s the kind of woman my mother is. Loving, caring, and a bullshit putter upper. Love ya Mama.

 

The End :3 

The Most Lame Ass April Fools Prank

I'm a terrible liar. Like so terrible you know that ice breaker game "two truths and a lie?" I have to exaggerate on something in my life because I can't make up lies on the spot.

This April Fools Day I decided to take charge of my life and pull my first prank. I know this is pretty lame coming from a 20 year old who has lived in a university residence for three years.

I've been pranked many times, and I am also EXTREMELY gullible. 

I read on Facebook about one of my friends tricking another that they won a car from Roll up the Rim. I decided to go mediocre and said I won the barbecue.

I know this is a pretty groan-worthy lameass prank but guess what? It worked! My first ever prank went off with only a tiny bit of skepticism from one friend. Also you can clearly see mine and Trav's awesomeness through our obsession with Harry Potter and our want to be in the lamest house; Hufflepuff.

This made me so proud of myself you wouldn't even believe something so small could be so great in my eyes.

Oh, did I mention I lead an extremely boring life? That probably has been portrayed from my imagined need to make a blog about the various cats I have owned.

The End :3 

The Sneaky Laundry Mountain

If you’re like me, you wait until you literally run out of a
particular type of clothing before you do laundry. Your laundry pile
starts out innocent enough. A towel, socks, pajamas, etc. And then, when
you least expect it, you end up with what I like to call… Laundry
Mountain.  

Each time I conquer Laundry Mountain I promise myself I will do laundry
every Saturday, fold all my clothes as soon as they come out of the
dryer, and even hand wash my delicates. This goes okay for about a day.
Then Laundry Mountain starts to climb and climb until it resembles a
heap of clothes at a second hand shop. 

You look at the mountain and think, wow that is going to take days to
lug down two flights of stairs, sort, wash, dry, fold, and put away. I
don’t know what’s going to happen when I have children, but laundry
is my most hated chore. It’s probably going to be every baby for
himself when I have children.  

I come from a very small community where people still hang their
clothes on the line. Yup, we are living in the 60s where it’s still
appropriate to hang your underbits for the world to see. People actually
prefer the feel and smell of sun infused laundry. While I agree that
it’s awesome to conserve the environment, but is it really
necessary to display your garments for the community to see?  

In any case, I have never been to a place where they still hang laundry
to dry other than my tri-county area. I used to hang/ bring in the wash
for my mother, and I hated every clothespin. Although I’m spoiled now
with high efficiency washer and dryer, I still hate doing it.  

It doesn’t help that where I am renting the basement is undergoing
renovations and looks like this: 

It’s creepy, it smells, and if anyone has high efficiency machines
you will know that the washer reeks of mould. I live on the 2nd floor so
my treacherous journey is punctuated by a slippery flight of stairs that
I have previously fallen down (my first stair tumble at 20 years old, go
figure) and these: 

The ricketiest, oldest, weirdest flight of stairs ever to grace a
basement. Needless to say that they suck. 

But I soldier on, bully my way through, and it usually takes about
three days to slay Laundry Mountain. But that’s okay. I’m 20, and
you can’t make me grow up :3 

 

The End :3