Get a brush that looks like this. Use it to brush up the loose hair on the faux fur, then vacuum the tree. You will still need a hose for the vacuum.
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The "What's on your mind?" Thread -2016
- Thread starter AbbysMom
- Start Date
- Status
Don't look for me till after the weekend, guys, my manager just called and said I will start moving on THURSDAY. I don't know what the heck I'm going to do. Pray.
Holy Moly! Thursday as in three days from now? How long do you have to make the move? Can you stretch it out over a couple of days?
Wow, lot of talking!
We don't have a Popeyes or and Arby's or a Wendy's. Sad.
I'm not a telemarketer! LOL I hate when people compare me to one. I conduct a survey about a service that the person has used. And the people who politely decline aren't the ones I call dumb. It's the people who can't understand how to answer a simple question and the people who are rude and awful. Something I wish people would understand that I'm an actual person and I do have feelings. The job market is rough and I'm still in college. Also, I broke my back when I was 16 - I'm not paralyzed or anything, but it does give me trouble - so I can't do jobs that require a lot of lifting and I can't stand to be on my feet for extended periods of time. I would probably be eligible for disability due to that and my migraines, but I prefer to make my own way instead of making the taxpayers support me. Also, I do provide a service. When people are unhappy with their experience, I arrange to have someone in power call them back and make things right for them. A lot of people really appreciate that. I've talked to a lot of really nice, sweet people. I've also talked to a lot of jerks who think it's ok to cuss me up one side and down the other, call me every name in the book, and say things that could get them arrested if I was under the age of 18. That really isn't necessary. I'm not going to force you to participate. Just say no so I can move on to the next call instead of wasting my time and yours.
I think I'm going to have to get some of the Cinnabon things from Taco Bell since you spoke so highly of them. I adore Cinnabon's, but we don't have one. Again, it's at least a 2 hour drive to get to one. I haven't tried the Taco Bell things because I was afraid they just wouldn't compare and leave me pining for Cinnabon's.
We don't have a Popeyes or and Arby's or a Wendy's. Sad.
I'm not a telemarketer! LOL I hate when people compare me to one. I conduct a survey about a service that the person has used. And the people who politely decline aren't the ones I call dumb. It's the people who can't understand how to answer a simple question and the people who are rude and awful. Something I wish people would understand that I'm an actual person and I do have feelings. The job market is rough and I'm still in college. Also, I broke my back when I was 16 - I'm not paralyzed or anything, but it does give me trouble - so I can't do jobs that require a lot of lifting and I can't stand to be on my feet for extended periods of time. I would probably be eligible for disability due to that and my migraines, but I prefer to make my own way instead of making the taxpayers support me. Also, I do provide a service. When people are unhappy with their experience, I arrange to have someone in power call them back and make things right for them. A lot of people really appreciate that. I've talked to a lot of really nice, sweet people. I've also talked to a lot of jerks who think it's ok to cuss me up one side and down the other, call me every name in the book, and say things that could get them arrested if I was under the age of 18. That really isn't necessary. I'm not going to force you to participate. Just say no so I can move on to the next call instead of wasting my time and yours.
I think I'm going to have to get some of the Cinnabon things from Taco Bell since you spoke so highly of them. I adore Cinnabon's, but we don't have one. Again, it's at least a 2 hour drive to get to one. I haven't tried the Taco Bell things because I was afraid they just wouldn't compare and leave me pining for Cinnabon's.
My husband & I were known for being geographically challenged. Neither one of us could read a map to save our lives. We once went to a wedding & were given a hand-drawn direction map. When the map showed a right turn, we made a left. IIRC, we did eventually arrive, but late as per usual.
I haven't tried it, but my first thought would be to use one of those wire slicker brushes on the faux-fur. I've used one in the past to remove mats from plush microfiber blankets. And it's a lot cheaper than buying a new vacuum!
Margret
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2015
- Messages
- 1,827
- Purraise
- 1,032
So, some Magic School and Egg.
The cook gave a sniff. “He can dislike it all he wants,” she said. “He left your demerits up to me, and I will punish you as I see fit. You’ll be returning the basket, and cleaning dishes when you do.”
Shysera grinned and Oskald flipped his wings. “Just grab the basket,” the soulling advised. “You want to, you’re being ordered to, and this will give you a chance to learn more about the potential students.” His tail flipped up to tap Shysera’s ear. “You know that’s important.”
Shysera rolled her eyes—but she accepted the basket. “After dinner,” the student told Ban’cha, “the girls are probably going to sleep. I feel certain the two of you will see each other tomorrow.”
Impulsively, Yarey gave Ban’cha a brief hug. He stiffened in her arm—the other arm was still holding the egg—and his face was slack with shock when she pulled away. She decided that it would be best to pretend she hadn’t seen the shock, and she smiled at him. “See you tomorrow,” she promised.
“Yeah,” said Ban’cha softly. “Tomorrow.” The cook reached over the partition to whack Ban’cha over the head with a wooden spoon. “Ow,” he said thoughtfully.
Shysera waited until they were out of the building before she burst into laughter. To Yarey’s surprise Oskald not only joined her in the laughter, but snorted sparks and smoke when he laughed. “Oh!” gasped Shysera as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh—when you learn just what it is you just did you’ll look back on this and laugh too.”
“His face!” chortled Oskald. Sparks flew from his mouth—but the grass didn’t catch fire, and they didn’t seem to hurt the path that the three of them were walking on.
“I don’t understand,” said Yarey with confusion.
The simple comment made Shysera double over with laughter once again as Oskald spewed sparks in all the colors of the rainbow. Yarey watched as the sparks landed and the green sparks made grass grow, blue sparks appeared to turn into water on contact with the ground, yellow sparks were leaving dots of soot on the path (but weren’t hurting the grass when they landed on it), flowers sprouted from places where the purple sparks landed, tiny saplings appeared where the orange sparks landed, and the red sparks didn’t seem to do anything at all. Yarey had never seen anything like it, and it almost made her forget that they were laughing at her.
Almost. “Why are you laughing?” Yarey asked again. She knew that it wasn’t intended to be mean, unlike when her two cousins had teased her as a child, but she was also starting to get irritated by it. She didn’t like being laughed at very much.
Shysera took a deep, shuddering breath as Oskald continued to snort sparks. With her free hand the older girl pat Yarey on the shoulder. “Trust me,” she said with a grin, “one day this will be funny to you too.”
“Why?” asked Yarey. She frowned; it wasn’t her imagination. Shysera was dancing around the subject as cleverly as Kalvor used to procrastinate chores he hated to the stablemaster. She was familiar with the tactic—but why was Shysera using it?
To her surprise Shysera’s expression softened. “I can’t tell you,” she said to the girl.
Oskald snorted blue sparks as the wind changed direction and blew them over to Yarey. It was like being hit with part of a rainstorm. “She’s being polite,” the soulling informed Yarey. “You see, your new friend Ban’cha is trying—desperately—to hide his nature.”
Shysera brushed the remaining moisture from her eyes as the two of them walked. “We, as students and probably the faculty as well, are doing our best to—to honor his wishes,” said the student slowly as they continued towards the dorms. “In short,” she added, “it’s not our secret to tell.”
Oskald gave another snort and purple sparks created a bunch of flowers (that Yarey couldn’t help but notice were in all different colors). “You’ll learn the truth in one of your classes, if you continue as a student here,” he said.
“Very likely, if,” Shysera stressed the word, “you’re accepted as a student. You’ll probably be fine,” she added to the girl. “Somehow I can’t see you—or your friend—failing the exam.”
“The point,” said Oskald firmly, “is that it’s not our secret to tell.” The soulling examined Yarey with his large eyes. “Do you understand?” he asked her.
“I—think so,” said Yarey slowly. She sounded out her thoughts for the other two. “Several of the students fail the exam every time it’s given—”
“About every two weeks,” Shysera said.
Yarey ignored the interruption. “And while some of the students die—others are sent home. If all of the potential students know what Ban’cha is, then some of the potential students that are sent home will tell their families—and everyone will know. Right now the only ones who know are the teachers and students—who aren’t leaving until they graduate and when they graduate they have other things to think about than the details about what one potential student is.”
Shysera whooped with laughter again—but it had a different tone than earlier. Where the older girl had been almost paralyzingly humored by something earlier, now the laughter actually sounded proud somehow. She reached out and rubbed Yarey’s head. “I bet,” the student replied, “that with logic like that you got in trouble with your teachers back at home.”
Yarey frowned. “Only the last one,” she said absently. Shysera had just about come out to say that Yarey’s logic was right—and she wondered what Ban’cha could possibly be that he was worried about people knowing what he was. Perhaps it was nothing more than the rising anti-fairy sentiment among humans—or perhaps there was more that she wasn’t seeing.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she flushed as Shysera chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” the student said with a knowing grin.
“Well,” Yarey said defensively, “I was running all over campus earlier.”
“And as Weaponsmaster says, ‘energy expended means energy ingested’. Let’s hurry up to your room.”
“And perhaps,” Oskald said as he snuggled closer to Shysera’s neck, “there will be treats in there for me as well.”
“Cook does like you,” Shysera said agreeably.
As they continued walking Yarey looked at her egg. It was still white, but she wasn’t worried about it. They were supposed to take about a week to hatch after all, and she knew that there was no shame in being like everyone else. Sometimes it was better to be average—although it didn’t seem as though there were any teachers that she didn’t want to stand out from.
Suddenly she remembered something. “Shysera,” she began timidly as they approached the dorms, “do you mind if I ask what your demerits are for?”
Oskald snorted red sparks as Shysera chuckled under her breath. “One of the things that students have to learn, especially students in my field of study, is blending in to environments and cultures that exist in the kingdom.”
“To spy for the sake of the land,” Oskald translated.
“Well—yes,” admitted Shysera. “That’s part of it. Part of it is that people readily identifiable as ‘strangers’ aren’t immediately trusted like people who blend in—making it harder to know when and what kind of trouble is attacking a certain area.”
“Would that work?” asked Yarey doubtfully. She remembered the town around the manor; everyone knew everyone else—likes, dislikes, problems and so forth. And she knew that strangers weren’t treated with hostility there, not like in certain small towns on the way to the academy.
“To a point,” Oskald said. “There are places where people identify themselves as a specific ‘type’ of person, and welcome anyone within that type while shunning anyone who isn’t.”
“A little bit of an oversimplification,” Shysera said thoughtfully. “Well, if you become a student, you’ll get more into it in class—it’s mandatory for all students whose career paths lead them outside the campus.”
“Which is most of them,” pointed out Oskald.
Shysera shot him a glare. “True,” she admitted reluctantly. “Most of the students who graduate from here do go on jobs that take them far away from campus—like the outriders, for instance. Still,” she added firmly, “there are students who become teachers here, and they don’t leave.”
“Often,” piped up the soulling. “Sometimes there’s an emergency.”
The cook gave a sniff. “He can dislike it all he wants,” she said. “He left your demerits up to me, and I will punish you as I see fit. You’ll be returning the basket, and cleaning dishes when you do.”
Shysera grinned and Oskald flipped his wings. “Just grab the basket,” the soulling advised. “You want to, you’re being ordered to, and this will give you a chance to learn more about the potential students.” His tail flipped up to tap Shysera’s ear. “You know that’s important.”
Shysera rolled her eyes—but she accepted the basket. “After dinner,” the student told Ban’cha, “the girls are probably going to sleep. I feel certain the two of you will see each other tomorrow.”
Impulsively, Yarey gave Ban’cha a brief hug. He stiffened in her arm—the other arm was still holding the egg—and his face was slack with shock when she pulled away. She decided that it would be best to pretend she hadn’t seen the shock, and she smiled at him. “See you tomorrow,” she promised.
“Yeah,” said Ban’cha softly. “Tomorrow.” The cook reached over the partition to whack Ban’cha over the head with a wooden spoon. “Ow,” he said thoughtfully.
Shysera waited until they were out of the building before she burst into laughter. To Yarey’s surprise Oskald not only joined her in the laughter, but snorted sparks and smoke when he laughed. “Oh!” gasped Shysera as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh—when you learn just what it is you just did you’ll look back on this and laugh too.”
“His face!” chortled Oskald. Sparks flew from his mouth—but the grass didn’t catch fire, and they didn’t seem to hurt the path that the three of them were walking on.
“I don’t understand,” said Yarey with confusion.
The simple comment made Shysera double over with laughter once again as Oskald spewed sparks in all the colors of the rainbow. Yarey watched as the sparks landed and the green sparks made grass grow, blue sparks appeared to turn into water on contact with the ground, yellow sparks were leaving dots of soot on the path (but weren’t hurting the grass when they landed on it), flowers sprouted from places where the purple sparks landed, tiny saplings appeared where the orange sparks landed, and the red sparks didn’t seem to do anything at all. Yarey had never seen anything like it, and it almost made her forget that they were laughing at her.
Almost. “Why are you laughing?” Yarey asked again. She knew that it wasn’t intended to be mean, unlike when her two cousins had teased her as a child, but she was also starting to get irritated by it. She didn’t like being laughed at very much.
Shysera took a deep, shuddering breath as Oskald continued to snort sparks. With her free hand the older girl pat Yarey on the shoulder. “Trust me,” she said with a grin, “one day this will be funny to you too.”
“Why?” asked Yarey. She frowned; it wasn’t her imagination. Shysera was dancing around the subject as cleverly as Kalvor used to procrastinate chores he hated to the stablemaster. She was familiar with the tactic—but why was Shysera using it?
To her surprise Shysera’s expression softened. “I can’t tell you,” she said to the girl.
Oskald snorted blue sparks as the wind changed direction and blew them over to Yarey. It was like being hit with part of a rainstorm. “She’s being polite,” the soulling informed Yarey. “You see, your new friend Ban’cha is trying—desperately—to hide his nature.”
Shysera brushed the remaining moisture from her eyes as the two of them walked. “We, as students and probably the faculty as well, are doing our best to—to honor his wishes,” said the student slowly as they continued towards the dorms. “In short,” she added, “it’s not our secret to tell.”
Oskald gave another snort and purple sparks created a bunch of flowers (that Yarey couldn’t help but notice were in all different colors). “You’ll learn the truth in one of your classes, if you continue as a student here,” he said.
“Very likely, if,” Shysera stressed the word, “you’re accepted as a student. You’ll probably be fine,” she added to the girl. “Somehow I can’t see you—or your friend—failing the exam.”
“The point,” said Oskald firmly, “is that it’s not our secret to tell.” The soulling examined Yarey with his large eyes. “Do you understand?” he asked her.
“I—think so,” said Yarey slowly. She sounded out her thoughts for the other two. “Several of the students fail the exam every time it’s given—”
“About every two weeks,” Shysera said.
Yarey ignored the interruption. “And while some of the students die—others are sent home. If all of the potential students know what Ban’cha is, then some of the potential students that are sent home will tell their families—and everyone will know. Right now the only ones who know are the teachers and students—who aren’t leaving until they graduate and when they graduate they have other things to think about than the details about what one potential student is.”
Shysera whooped with laughter again—but it had a different tone than earlier. Where the older girl had been almost paralyzingly humored by something earlier, now the laughter actually sounded proud somehow. She reached out and rubbed Yarey’s head. “I bet,” the student replied, “that with logic like that you got in trouble with your teachers back at home.”
Yarey frowned. “Only the last one,” she said absently. Shysera had just about come out to say that Yarey’s logic was right—and she wondered what Ban’cha could possibly be that he was worried about people knowing what he was. Perhaps it was nothing more than the rising anti-fairy sentiment among humans—or perhaps there was more that she wasn’t seeing.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she flushed as Shysera chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” the student said with a knowing grin.
“Well,” Yarey said defensively, “I was running all over campus earlier.”
“And as Weaponsmaster says, ‘energy expended means energy ingested’. Let’s hurry up to your room.”
“And perhaps,” Oskald said as he snuggled closer to Shysera’s neck, “there will be treats in there for me as well.”
“Cook does like you,” Shysera said agreeably.
As they continued walking Yarey looked at her egg. It was still white, but she wasn’t worried about it. They were supposed to take about a week to hatch after all, and she knew that there was no shame in being like everyone else. Sometimes it was better to be average—although it didn’t seem as though there were any teachers that she didn’t want to stand out from.
Suddenly she remembered something. “Shysera,” she began timidly as they approached the dorms, “do you mind if I ask what your demerits are for?”
Oskald snorted red sparks as Shysera chuckled under her breath. “One of the things that students have to learn, especially students in my field of study, is blending in to environments and cultures that exist in the kingdom.”
“To spy for the sake of the land,” Oskald translated.
“Well—yes,” admitted Shysera. “That’s part of it. Part of it is that people readily identifiable as ‘strangers’ aren’t immediately trusted like people who blend in—making it harder to know when and what kind of trouble is attacking a certain area.”
“Would that work?” asked Yarey doubtfully. She remembered the town around the manor; everyone knew everyone else—likes, dislikes, problems and so forth. And she knew that strangers weren’t treated with hostility there, not like in certain small towns on the way to the academy.
“To a point,” Oskald said. “There are places where people identify themselves as a specific ‘type’ of person, and welcome anyone within that type while shunning anyone who isn’t.”
“A little bit of an oversimplification,” Shysera said thoughtfully. “Well, if you become a student, you’ll get more into it in class—it’s mandatory for all students whose career paths lead them outside the campus.”
“Which is most of them,” pointed out Oskald.
Shysera shot him a glare. “True,” she admitted reluctantly. “Most of the students who graduate from here do go on jobs that take them far away from campus—like the outriders, for instance. Still,” she added firmly, “there are students who become teachers here, and they don’t leave.”
“Often,” piped up the soulling. “Sometimes there’s an emergency.”
On Facebook, the shelter I volunteer at made a post in honor of the founders 75th bday requesting that everyone comment with pictures of the cats they had adopted. It is so cool to see how many cats have been helped.
That's awesome! I'm sure it must raise morale. Considering how many cats need help, sometimes, it seems like you aren't really making a difference. But then when you see how many have been helped, it makes you feel better. And saving even one life is an accomplishment to be proud of.
I just found that if I scratch the inside of Leroy's right ear, he automatically lifts his right rear leg and starts to scratch the outside of his ear
He doesn't have the same reaction if Iscratch the inside of his left ear.
I just don't understand why people think it is acceptable to be rude, nasty, and vulgar to people on the phone. I mean, we are people, too. We have teenagers, college students, and even elderly people working for this company conducting surveys. How would these people like it if someone called their 16 year old daughters nasty names? Or told their grandmothers to fornicate with themselves? Because we are daughters and sons, or parents or grandparents. We don't stop being people just because we put on a headset.
I got a flat tire biking home from work while I was crossing a major intersection. Thankfully I was only crossing a turn lane at the time. My rear wheel started to slide sideways on me when it happened. I managed to get my feet down and steer it in the direction of a bike path without ending up on the pavement at least. I had to correct the steering so forcefully that I jammed my wrist on the handle bars. It is sore but no swelling at all. We are going on vacation later this week. Hubby has ordered me to take cabs to work until then because he does not want me to take any more risks biking until after vacation.
Some very nice gentlemen who was biking behind me stopped and blocked the intersection with his bike when I started to slide. He told me he bikes a lot in the dark and he had lights with bright flashing lights on his bike. It was nice of him to stop and make sure I made it out of traffic.
Hubby took me out to eat while my bike was being fixed. It turned out that the flat tire was an issue with the tube and not the actual tire. The tube was replaced and they checked the front tire too to make sure it was safe.
Hubby also picked me up when he got off the train. I parked myself and my bike in the parking lot of a sports bar and called hubby because I did not feel like pushing the bike home because the flat was making it a pain in the but to push it. Even without riding it was impossible to steer it. The rear wheel kept trying to slide while I was trying to push it.
Some very nice gentlemen who was biking behind me stopped and blocked the intersection with his bike when I started to slide. He told me he bikes a lot in the dark and he had lights with bright flashing lights on his bike. It was nice of him to stop and make sure I made it out of traffic.
Hubby took me out to eat while my bike was being fixed. It turned out that the flat tire was an issue with the tube and not the actual tire. The tube was replaced and they checked the front tire too to make sure it was safe.
Hubby also picked me up when he got off the train. I parked myself and my bike in the parking lot of a sports bar and called hubby because I did not feel like pushing the bike home because the flat was making it a pain in the but to push it. Even without riding it was impossible to steer it. The rear wheel kept trying to slide while I was trying to push it.
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Yes, thank God. I have until Sunday to complete, so they have the old apartment on Monday, but ithis is a major scrambe.
Can you get some healthy, impoverished young men to help with the hauling in return for a couple of good meals?
Margret
Apparently not. I'm considering calling the marine base chaplin, explaining the situation, and asking him if he knows a couple of guys who would help. I'm headed to bed now. I'll check in tomorrow if I have a free minute! There is nowhere I'd rather be than here!
That's a good idea. My ex-husband was a Marine and I lived on base for 7 years. MOST Marines are great people. I have enormous respect for all of them except the cheating scumbag I married.
OMG! We had a mayfly fluttering around the bedroom. The boys saw it at the same time and started going nuts pouncing around the room trying to catch it. At one point, Murphy jumped up and closed his front paws together. He held them cupped like a kid who'd caught a bug. Then he looked all around and didn't see the bug and acted all confused. Then he moves his paws and the thing flies out. He caught it, but didn't know that he'd caught it or just didn't know what to do with it after catching it.
So, that was the most interesting part of my entire month so far.
So, that was the most interesting part of my entire month so far.
great idea... love it!
That is really short notice... are you sure that is legally allowed? I know you do not want to jeopardize yourself, but seriously, that is not adequate time for a handicapped person to pack up and move. That is not realistic, even for a non-handicapped individual.
Does not sound right...
Does any of your neighbors have any grandchildren or friends who can help you? If I lived near you, I would be over in a heartbeat to help you out...
Some people just do not have a heart, or just do not care. They will do anything to make life miserable for others....Karma will get to them eventually...just wait that part out...
great idea... or the local Church?? or even the Senior Center or the Senior/Handicapped affairs department at the City Hall???? are you involved in any organizations? If so, I would contact them, to see if they could help...
The Marines always come through!!
Not that you have time to sit on the phone to do this, but do it in-between packing.. and do you have boxes for stuff?
Man, what a horrible thing to do to someone..
Having some Marines help you would be great. The view would likely be fantastic as well. I know that would ease some of the pain for me.
:nod:
@Mamanyt1953 let us know how it goes. Everyone has given you some great ideas for places to go for assistance - surely one of those will come through. This is exactly the kind of thing that people like volunteering to help with!
I just had a weird experience. I was grooming Paul and I heard this odd raspy sound, kind of like someone sanding wood. It took me a second to realize it was Paul purring!
In the year and a half since he moved in, I have never heard him purr although I know he does because I can feel the vibrations in his throat. This boy does like to be groomed!
I just had a weird experience. I was grooming Paul and I heard this odd raspy sound, kind of like someone sanding wood. It took me a second to realize it was Paul purring!
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