Connie, I've got a random collection of Scientific Americans from 2007 - 2001. Also there are boxes upon boxes of older ones hidden in the garage.

Bitches are the bestest ever! I have a satin fuchsia driving suit from those that F2Fed! It is the coolest thing ever. I squeed and squeed and squeed when I opened the package. Thank you!

What a nice gift. We need pictures.

Congratulations on finding out your going to have a nephew, vw! Good luck with the end of school stuff.

Connie, I've got a random collection of Scientific Americans from 2007 - 2001.

Hubby would adore those, but shipping would probably be ruinous.

Hey, I have the sick. Cass can't have it

It told each and every one of us how much it needed to be with you, Cass. How could we refuse?

And shall take some pictures as well.

beth, you *want* the sick? Because I am all for getting rid of it. My lungs are a little attached to it but what do they know?

No one should have the sick.

I'm not sure want is the right word. But I only have one thing to do this weekend. Listen to Joe Qurik speak about his book Sperm are from men, Eggs are from women.

Our neighborhood sort of formed a spontaneous book group around this book. As long as I have no fever- I'll be there.

eta: [link]

There are three fledgling birds on the ledge outside the theatre. Two look like tiny adult birds, the other is smaller and fuzzier and seems a lot less ready to face the world. I want to cuddle them but they cower away from anybody except for (apparantly) Karen who just told me she has become emotionally attached to the one who let her pet it.

I just heard a whole lot of screeching from the direction of the back of the house...the kind of screeching that does Not Bode Well. I ran back and discovered that Mia--aka Puppycat 2.0--had just caught a fledgling baby bird and brought it proudly in through the back door. The baby was squacking almost as loudly as its parents were as they dive-bombed the door. I pushed the door closed to avoid angry Mama and Daddy birds joining the party and then did the Extracting Baby Bird While Shoving Cat Away with Foot dance.

I finally was able to use a towel to pick up the baby, take it outside (ducking to avoid being dive-bombed), and put it on a tree branch where, I hoped, it could be rescued. Then I had to attempt to catch both cats, who were at this point in full hunter mode, stalking about and chattering up at the tree where the baby perched wobbily. The Attempting to Catch Wily Hunter-Beasts dance ensued and only ended when I managed to scare Mia inside as I scooped up her prowling brother and carried/tossed him indoors.

Cats are lower maintenance than dogs. Right.

I think I need a beer.

ETA: Holy crap, Laga! Bizzaro x-post!

Oh holy hell, Kristin.

It's always kind of gross when they bring you dead animals, and alarming when they start toying with live ones (similar things have happened to me before).

But you can't get angry at them either. They're just trying to catch you a nice dinner or toy, in return for all wonderful dinners and toys you've given them over the years.