Sometimes the thoughts in my head are like dominoes. This morning I inadvertently clicked on an ad about Australia on a news page. Australia ; the floods in Queensland,  the book The Thornbirds, sheep, border collies, the Crocodile Hunter, dangerous snakes, dangerous snakes in suburbs . . .

I searched for articles about deadly snakes turning up in suburban yards during droughts and floods; I didn’t want to search for them being there all the time because  sooner of later it would probably lead to my being afraid to look at a picture of the Sydney Opera House.

I happened upon an animal forum by following a link about two Jack Russell Terriers being bitten by a red-bellied snake in the Sydney suburbs. Raz was the poster and I clicked down through the first postings to see if the dogs made it. Only there were side plots. Information on levels of creatine after the bites. Methods to discourage snakes from entering lawns – herbs, special fencing, etc. Stories about near snakebites, snakebites, other animal’s snake encounter stories. Responses from snake advocates. The story about shooting a brown snake in a house and taking out the guitar as well.

And, interspersed with all this were updates on “the boys” who were transferred from one vet hospital to a bigger one. That got me wondering – different level trauma centers for snakebit animals? The dogs got some anti-venom at the first hospital – a 30 minute breakneck speed ride away. The creatine level was 200+ – at the max the test could read there.  And 200+ was not good.

Raz waited for news from the specialized hospital that had more sensitive equipment and other posters offered sympathy and good wishes and information about how to deal with snakes in backyards. The first results were something like 2,000 and 4,000. Later they would climb into the double-digit thousand category. However, the dogs did pull through, although their muscles were weakened and they huffed and puffed at every exertion.

I read more posts about recuperation problems and more snake precautions. Then the boys starting have necrosis around the area of the bites. By this time there were some posts about what to do if your dog sees a snake – do not call his name, it will distract him – and about protected species and more dog vs. snake stories.

Then, after 17 pages of posts, the thread stopped. I don’t know the ultimate outcome for the dogs; I don’t know what they decided to do about treating fence lines – one of the treatments was supposed to affect snakes in a matter that would anesthetize them . . . maybe in neighbors’ yards. It would cost the neighbors $25 each to extend the protection to the outside of their fence lines, a sum they didn’t want to pay.

There, you know as much as I do, with the exception of the detailed anti-snake procedures . . . and, actually, they are an amorphous mass of suggestions in my mind. What I have retained is the “always have a shovel handy” advice and don’t go barefoot.

But, I have not learned any lesson – I know what I am going to do. I am going to put in a few search words and try to find out what happened to Raz’s dogs. Probably, because I have a dogged personality.

SIGH . . . .

Or Mega Ultra – whatever they are called. I worked all day today – well, most of it  – doing more of that dratted cleaning. The vitamins must have really kicked in because I did basement stairs, a good chunk of the basement, the vestibule, scraped melting ice here and there on driveway corners, stomped trash, sorted through a couple of toy boxes, vacuumed in the basement, started a fire in the basement and made food for others.

At the end of this – and it was after sundown – I decided it was not the work I do that makes me tired, but the work other people make but do not do that wears me out. So I first decided I was going to rub their noses in the “clean” but after awhile thought, “I don’t think that will have the same effect as rubbing someone’s nose is the proverbial ‘IT‘.” I am going to think about it some more.

And while I am thinking, I am going to wonder why I did all this on Celebrate Kookiness Day. Vitamins maybe would give me more energy, but it should be energy not earmarked for anything in particular. Perhaps since my general thought processes are in relation to – well, the sort of typical ones – kooky, I would have to do something unkooky for it to qualify as kooky for me. I believe there may be smoke and mirrors in my MacBook here.

And where there’s smoke, there’s firefox. Hahahahahahahahahaha. Oh, that was a lame little AmeliaJake funny.

I am waiting for my GNC Women’s Ultra Mega vitamin to kick in. That’s why I am sitting here. Because I have decided this morning to let the vitamin do the work, rather than my will. It is a green oblong vitamin, sort of large and, actually, you are supposed to take two a day – and I usually do, just not at the same time. I do think they are good for me and I think they have a positive effect. However, this morning I would like for the vitamin to step out of the background and get a little limelight time.

Boost me up, Big Greenie. Do you need a pep talk? Okay, how about I read you the list of your ingredients? That’s too long; I’ll just hold the back of the bottle up to the computer camera and let you have a “look-see”. I actually did that – and held it there while I stared at the purple and white of the front of the bottle. It was just a restful thing to do and I had to grin at myself.

Grinning is good – it tricks my brain into upbeat thoughts. Of course, now that I wrote that, I suppose my brain has wised-up. But now I am grinning ans silently chuckling and I think the forces of positive grinning may win out. Especially since I have a wide grin now and my cheeks are starting to hurt from the workout.

I believe kookiness gets a bad rap in general. However, it may be a good quirk that has to come naturally. I’m not at all sure pretended kookiness will work – there is probably an embarrassment factor that negates even a try in some people. BUT NOT ME.

I am so enthused now I am going to proclaim Kookiness Day. Say, celebratory methods should prove interesting – as long as they don’t get me in jail or the asylum. First thing, I’ve got to get my buddies here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse to start decorating and getting the music going.

It just occurred to me that maybe I got distracted and over-vitamined myself. Oh well, what’s done is done. Where’s my pointy party hat?

When  we went through our pantry, we reached way up high and way to the back and found a dusty bag of Paul Newman’s popcorn. So I made it the old-fashioned way, using a regular pan. Summer was fascinated; she wanted it to pop all over the floor. What was that supposedly smart girl thinking? I put oil in the bottom of a large Revere saucepan and threw in five kernels and we all waited for them to pop. Then, while Summer was responding with surprise that they actually had,, I tossed in a lot of popcorn and hoped that my memory would flick onto automatic.

The lid started to push up and so I let it overflow into a waiting pan, then again . . . and again. Nothing caught fire; nothing burned. Summer sampled it and said, “It needs butter.” I told her we had to melt it over low heat – that we used to have midget skillets we used for that purpose. I added that the making of popcorn used to be “an event” – part of the watching of a special TV show, From there, I  went on to tell her that one night a week, a network showed a full-length movie.

That little piece of information hit her forehead and bounced back at me; it was just too primitive to penetrate. Once she tried to process the fact that at one time there was no cable, no videos and no dvds. And, of course, no video games. It was not pretty, watching the thoughts about such a thing percolate behind her eyes. I think her brain almost ground to a halt as a robotic “impossible for life to exist in such a situation” refrain kept popping up.

I don’t remember if we had to hit her with a remote to jar her into a functioning mode or not. We are careful now. I try to ease into talking about such things as a group of us sitting around in the summer, sipping iced tea and reading our own copies of the same novel. I took it for granted that you read instructions or bathroom signs, but that reading was something done with books.

Oh, I started this with the intent of posting this picture of a popper we had when I was a kid. So here it is.

Robert William sent me these for Valentine’s Day. Now with the internet you can get nice flowers on Hallmark Days for not much money at all. So it works out okay for someone like me .

Northern Indiana wind in February after long cold spell.

And I worked today. I cleaned. I do not like housework but when there is a dramatic change, I dislike it less. I scrubbed bathrooms! Yes, I did. This honest-to-goodness AmeliaJakc got down on her hands and knees and did toilets. And mirrors. I vacuumed . . . after finding the floor. I did laundry. I vacuumed the stairs! I cleaned counters! Oh, I am such a heroine.

And then I showered and am sitting here all self-righteous and clean.

Now what?

Well, there is a lot more cleaning to do. Ack! I feel myself deflating . . .  I must devise a way to motivate others to clean, to want to clean, to need to clean. Oh, this is so horrible, but what about calling an OCD clinic and inquiring about neat freaks?

Rose is sending me to time out.

Here’s the SITE about you new temporary resident. I feel a little uncomfortable thinking about eating him, although I did entertain the thought of putting him on the floor and making everyone revert to caveman stage. Not that my family has evolved that far beyond. We could probably be on Animal Planet or National Geographic.

Here’s a little promo paragraph from the site:

The World’s Largest Gummy Bear is the lion of the candy world. There is no candy more magnificent or more powerful. This five-pound beast is the equivalent of 1,400 regular sized gummy bears and packs a whopping 12,600 calories.

It will be hard to sneak bites because it would take probably an hour to get your tongue and teeth unstuck and functioning efficiently. I must remember to leave my one fake tooth out of my mouth – it’s called a spider bridge and those little metal legs would never get out of a big bite of giant gummy bear. I know this because once I ate a little gummy bear with the bridge in my mouth . . . and that was interesting.

The site is called Vat 19: Purveyors of Curiously Awesome Products.  The categories are . . .

I may be gone for a long time.

My internet connection is flickering right now, so I’ll be quick.

Cameron got the audience together – California LemonHead, Sam Adams, the Monk, Sam Adams and Spike

First thing out of the box – not the surprise.

The inner box . . . getting close.

THE FIVE POUND GUMMY BEAR

We have waited until Friday to post this about the surprise that awaits Der Bingle at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse, because even if he takes a look at this site at noon, it will only serve to sharpen the surprise. He won’t have enough time to try to figure it out and/or wear people down to telling him what is IN THE BOX that LZP sent. Even LZP says he thinks he has outdone himself this time.

The box came this week and news that it was coming came earlier. We were told to have cameras ready to record the opening. I, myself, could not guess what  it could be. I mean when you have gotten gnomes and peeps in the mail,  you realize . . . well, you just realize.

LZP told me what is in the box and I am flabbergasted. He HAS  outdone himself. And that is saying something because LZP is very, very smart and clever. And unique. I know this really isn’t fair, my knowing and your not. But that’s another reason I waited until today. Tonight the world will know.

Oh, I want to tell so bad . . .