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Archive for the ‘Beasts’ Category


Posted by Mummy Dearest on Jun-27-2018

The setting : the sun has just risen ( read : 5.30-ish am). Mummy Dearest is sound asleep  ( hallelujah !) in her little Mary Poppins bed, a black tank top wrapped around her eyes. You see, she has left that big butt sunshade up so that the houseplants get a good dose of sunlight before Casa Mummy Dearest moves into the dark side of the day.

Teenage – or perhaps prepubescent – Magpie is standing on the edge of Mummy Dearest’s open bedroom window ( at least, Mummy Dearest is convinced of this- hidden under her black tank top, it is hard for her to REALLY know):

Hey ! You there ! What’s for breakfast ? I’m hungry. Seen Mom or Dad ?

( Mummy Dearest is thinking : I once worried about your nest being blown out of the trees….)

Mother Hen

Posted by Mummy Dearest on May-17-2018

Well big old fudge. Lately as the sun rises, I can hear a nest of wee birds howling for breakfast. If I had been told that this nest was located right above my bedroom window, I would have had no problem believing this.

I knew – from the volume- that it had to be some flavor of Corvids. While I- in general- am afraid of birds ( I saw that Hitchcock film, yes I did)- I do like watching birds and I have a serious fondness for Corvids ( note that photo in my profile).

I was guessing that I was hearing the offspring from either a Magpie or a Jackdaw.

Watching the trees outside doing line dances in the wind this afternoon, I spotted the nest. On the tippy-top branches of this huge horse chestnut tree just to the right of my bedroom window.

That nest is on a gut dropping roller coaster ride at the moment.

Well, big old fudge. Hang in there, nest.


Protected: A Secret Stash and a Bird

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Jun-12-2015

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Protected: Flash To The Past

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Jun-7-2015

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Protected: Elvis

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Sep-16-2014

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Protected: Mourning Dove

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Dec-28-2012

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Good Food

Posted by Mummy Dearest on May-22-2011

This is really good dog food.

Trust me.

The Scent Of A Woman

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Mar-7-2011

So, we have these two , really big male dogs. One is an elderly Newf  ( do not let that sleepy face fool you- he is ready to kill in a minute… this is Elvis) and one is a 2 year old Pyr. Destin. Cute name for a Pyr. Sortof.

A Pyr is a Sheppard, ( some one tell me how to spell this..). Desty has started patrolling the house.  He prefers outside, but he does make his rounds inside. He watches that broken gate with an eagle eye.

Destin is really big. Not fat or fluffy, he is very tall and slim. I have worked on his weight since he entered Casa Kitchen… fat is bad for puppy that is going to zoom up to Neptune. Bad for his joints. I really do have to measure him one day …the road to hell and all.. I think I have to do this from the tip of his shoulders to, well, the floor. But everyone says, my, what a big dog. His sister is a European Champ, she and Desty look like clones, but Desty will never cut the grade. I think. And I no longer care.

Destin is much larger than Elvis right now, although Elvis is invulnerable, because of his thick coat of fur.  And we are getting the Alpha male shit.

Let me back pedal a bit …So, we have these two , really big male dogs.  And they have never had their balls sliced off. I could say neutered, but we are saying the same thing, just different words.

We have dog testosterone flying around here…

I am always at home with Elvis and Destin.  I like them in the kitchen. Comfy. Stinky, but comfy. But when they start the Alpha Male shit, it can be frightening.  I once got caught in the middle of this dog fight, and I was screaming for help. Really. No one heard heard me.

And then I remembered Destin´s Achilles´s heal … he is terrified of water. Squirt gun. It no longer has water in it, but the sight of that squirt gun stops all fights, be a good boy, Destin.

Destin is a very strange dog , he knows that I am sick. This bothers him. A lot. He is whining and licking me all of the time.

And both dogs know that I am a woman.

I suppose that I should be flattered, in some sort of way, after all, I am 53 years old.  But having these dogs licking the chair that I sit upon, the tiles beneath it and running after my crotch, non stop pisses me off. I cannot fill the water bowl without getting these two noses assaulting me.

I am still sick. I am cranky.  I need a nap. I should eat something…


Posted by Mummy Dearest on Mar-5-2011

Birdie died last night. Or perhaps early this morning.

Birdie was a male sparrow.

A note should be made of this.

I knew that Birdie was going down hill. I was going to let him cross that river and be free, this spring.  But I knew that Birdie was not doing well. I had called Bird Sanctuaries, last year, around here, but a sparrow did not hit  the top ten list. There actually is a waiting list at these places, and a sparrow does not cut the mustard.

Truth be told, no one is upset by Birdie’s death. That is just the way it is. I did not want him to die, but I am not crying. I am a bit surprised, I really did not expect this, so soon. But I did know that he was one miserable bird.

That is why I was going to let him go.

Within hours, someone asked me if I wanted a new bird.

I did not say this, but I do not buy birds. I give them refuge from the storm. I promised myself this. I would never, ever walk away from an injured bird again.  They usually die. And if they do not, you have to let them go once they are better.

I have to clean up Birdie’s cage and make sure that it is not tossed out. I am not walking away from an injured bird, ever again.

I promised myself this.

The Times, They Are A….

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Jan-24-2011

This looks like a very neato place.  In fact, I have BTDT. I simply have to get about 2,000 pages of glossy photo paper- not to mention more ink- but, what the hey, there are always DVDs. Of course, anyone who has fussed about with DVDs knows that after a time, whatever version you are using becomes yesterday’s news. I suppose that that is true of PDFs as well. It seems that in the end, nothing beats paper. But this is a really good link.

Oddly enough- well, that is not true at all- something Bucky said to me , once,  came to mind, yesterday. When Humph, our first dog, died so suddenly, I was talking to her on the phone. I said to her, you know that I do not believe in an afterlife, but tell me that Humph has simply gone to a better place.

Would I lie about something like this ?

She might have blurbled something comforting, although that seems a bit out of character, but I am so wickedly biased about Bucky, I am not proud, I admit it. But I do know this : she advised me not to get another dog, for I would simply love it to bits and one day, it too would be gone.

This is true, any simpleton knows that this is true.

And yet, what no one ever tells you- really, it is right up there with what is natural childbirth like ?- or perhaps you never hear it, or really understand the meaning of it, the feeling of it, but one day the cherubs will be gone. Adolescence sortof helps- that growing apart is a bit of a two way street, they loathe you and you attempt to not sound like Olivia Soprano. Rule 1, do not attempt the guilt route, after all, it is all your fault when push comes to shove.

As an aside, I also tend to wonder why if the offspring have not reached perfection, it is always the Mother’s fault, and yet, if there are sterling qualities, they must most assuredly come from the Father. Somehow, this logic does not work for me. I have no idea why, I am sure that age has whithered my IQ.

I have to find a new avatar for this site, or simply go back to paper. My days of being Mummy Dearest are over and that is all that there is to it.

And yet, the good times have – partially- been preserved here.

And that , after all, was the whole point of this.

Go check out Jo. This is great.