Slow Adventures in Slothville

May 28, 2008

Memorial Day Weekend

Filed under: Family, Penny, Photography — shhville @ 3:15 am

Hi folks, sorry for the lapse in posting. My brain was going in three different directions because I was feeling sad about Felix and stressed about finishing up my papers and exams and SUPER ELATED because I’M GRADUATING. Woooooooo! Partay!! Anyway, we’re BACK from a fun-and-near-tragic-death-filled Memorial Day weekend with the parents and since we have tons of pictures, here’s a quick run-down of our adventures.

We poked around and sniffed everything in the garden from beautiful new flowers…

To the thriving kiwi vine….

To the newly-arrived baby arugula….

Then we went down to the dog beach for a pooch party…

Those poodles – Hattie and Guster – belong to my parents. Brother and sister, adopted when they were 7 years old and goofy as hell. Penny had a blast overseeing the activities and making sure everything went smoothly….

Then we went for a walk around the neighborhood…. [I wanted to put a little video here but YouTube is giving me guff]…….encountering many beautiful views….

…….and some oddities…..dogs and cats and birds, oh my!

When we got home Penny pointed out that she’s getting splotchy on her belly again….

She’s pointing with both front paws.

And then we went over to dad’s for shiskebobs and chardonnay.

The next day we drove up to our friend’s farm in Kennebunk. It is mid-renovation but already looking very cool…

After some puttering we decided to walk through the soon-to-be-planted orchards and down to the stream…

Then disaster struck. About five minutes after I took this video, Penny collapsed and started vomiting…

I picked her up and ran back to the house. She was completely limp and I was completely out of my mind. Here we were in rural Maine, nowhere near anything, on Memorial Day. Where could I even take her?? Thankfully, after about an hour her breathing slowed and she picked up her head. She refused water and was still sluggish, but I felt that the danger, whatever that was, was past. So I put her in the sling so she wouldn’t have to walk and we went to our friend’s OTHER farm for a little bit to have some wine and nachos and generally re-group. Our friend whipped up some fresh quacamole in the picturesque kitchen and we took a short stroll around the grounds.

Penny stayed in the sling, napping….

…..while the other animals did their things…..

And now, we’re home! Yay! Penny is still a little down, but doing much better. She even wanted (and got!) her dinner that night, so I think she is going to be fine. Ciao cats!

May 9, 2008

R.I.P Felix

Filed under: Family, Photography — shhville @ 12:42 am

Felix the Cat, our old curmudgeon of almost 22 years, died on Tuesday. Instead of waxing nostalgic, I’m going to post some old photos and re-publish a post from Fall of 2006 about a little conversation we had. Felix had a good, long life. He killed many a squirrel, irked many a human, and was the king of his territory until the very end.

Felix: “Hey, Sloth, what’s up?”

Sloth: “Nothing, really, I just came to visit for a few days, how are you?”

Felix: “That’s a stupid question. I am completely awesome in every way as always. I’m going to sleep in your lap now because you are the most boring person in the world and you’re allergic to me.” *snore*

Mom: “Did you notice that Felix has a toenail in his ear?”

Sloth: “………He has a what in his what?”

Mom: “He has another cat’s claw embedded in his ear. See it? It’s sticking right out.”

Felix: “No it’s not.”

Sloth: “I thought you were asleep.”

Felix: “I WAS asleep, chatterbox. I do not have a claw in my ear and anyways, I kicked that fucking cat’s ASS. You should have been there, I wrecked him.”

Sloth: “So… that how you got the clearly visible claw stuck in your ear?”

Felix: “How would you like a claw stuck in your EYE?”

Mom: “I think he’s feeling a little sensitive about it.”

Fast forward four hours……

Mom: “Hey, Felix, come here a sec, I want to show you something.”

Felix: “Oh, my enthusiasm. It is palpable. What could you possibly – oh, a towel. I love towels. I can sleep on it, eh? And then you’ll put it in Slothy’s bathroom so when she towels off it will make her sneeze? Why does that never stop being funny?”

Mom: “Great idea. Just come here and I’ll wrap you in the towel and hold you in my lap so you can take a nap.”

Felix: “Sweet!” *purrrrrrrrrrrrrr* “Oh! Sloth, hi – I was just dozing here and, uh…..what the fuck??? Dude, get those fucking tweezers away from me, man, I am not even kidding I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING.”

Sloth: “Oh my god, this is so gross. There’s too much blood, I have to go get a paper towel.”

Mom: “Get the hydrogen peroxide too.”

Felix: “Yeah, and don’t forget your last will and testament because I AM SO GOING TO KILL YOU TEN TIMES IN A ROW.”

Fast forward ten minutes……..

Mom: “Did you get it?”

Sloth: “Almost.”


Sloth: “Got it.”

Mom: “Ew.”

Sloth: “Gross.”

Felix: “Can I still sleep in the towel?”

May 7, 2007

Penelope’s New England Tour

Filed under: Family, Penny — shhville @ 2:22 pm

Just some pictures to start off your week. Get ready to be KILLED BY THE CUTE.

We slept on the couch:

Sorry it’s so blurry.

Being in heat makes her want to “nest” all the time:

At some point I started wondering about doggie sunscreen:

Paws up!!

She had a great time, I think. Sometimes you just need to get away from pavement:

By now you are probably sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Some kinds of cute cannot be tamed – she could bring down nations with this cuteness! Happy Monday!

May 4, 2007

Penny on the Road

Filed under: Family, Penny — shhville @ 2:50 pm

Well, we’re off to Maine this weekend so that Penny can meet her grandparents. My mom is all excited and has stocked up on organic dog food. I tried to explain to her that Penny has some sort of moral objection to eating anything identified as “for dogs” but mom insists on giving it a try. I say go to – it would make my life a lot easier if I could find a dog food that Penny would eat. This morning we shared a bacon/onion/mushroom/cheddar omelette and she didn’t even care that there was Tabasco sauce in it. It just won’t do.

When I took Penny to the vet on Wednesday she obliged me by bleeding on the exam table. I completely freaked out: “OHMYGODWHATISTHATSHE’SDYING.” The vet looked at me with such pity that for a second I thought she really was dying. Then he dropped the bomb: “She’s in heat.”

Fucking hell, my dog’s on her period. Fucking hell, my dog IS NOT SPAYED. I was like a mother who finds out her daughter has lost her virginity. I was CRYING. But you know what? If she had started bleeding on stuff at my house I would have had a fucking heart attack. As far as bad news goes, Penny had excellent timing on this one.

Last night I made her three dinners before I figured out that she wasn’t being picky, she just didn’t feel well. I called the vet and they told me that when dogs get their periods they’re sort of like us, but worse. Cranky, crampy, grouchy, ouchy. Poor thing just wanted to sleep. I wrapped her up in some blankets with just her head sticking out and then she tucked her face in too, so she was like a little burrito on the couch with me. Then we went to bed and she curled up against my belly under the warm covers. I swear, you can go ahead and try to imagine how cute this girl is, but it will be an exercise in futility.

Lots of pictures when we get back!

May 3, 2007

Meet Penny

Filed under: Family, Penny, Photography — shhville @ 7:15 pm

They thought she was old.

They thought she was spayed.

They thought she was virtually catatonic.

On all counts they were incorrect. She may, however, be a lesbian.

We loves nap time.

Many more Penny adventures coming soon!

March 15, 2007

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Filed under: Family — shhville @ 1:49 pm

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December 19, 2006

Happy Slothday

Filed under: Family, Slothyness — shhville @ 4:33 pm

You know what isn’t very interesting? Turning 31. I completely forgot that my birthday was coming up until a few days ago and now here it is and I’m not even excited at all. But I’d rather have a lame birthday that turned out to have some good bits than a big, exciting, planned birthday that turns out to be lame, which is usually what happens. In fact, I think this is my first adult birthday for which I am not at all morose. Cool.

My roommate and I went up to Maine for my mom’s 50th birthday last weekend and had so much fun, Icannoteventellyou. Evvvvvveryone was there – people I haven’t seen since I was a kid, my preschool teacher, my babysitter, all of my mom’s good friends that I spend every Thanksgiving with and a whole shitload of people I didn’t even know. Toward the end of the party my roommate said, “You know, I used to think we were like Will and Grace, but now I think we’re like Dharma and Greg.” I said, “Why, because I was raised by hippies?” and he was like, “Yeah, and I was raised by Republicans!!”

Here are a couple of the conversations that helped him discover our true sitcom identities:

Sloth: “When I was little, Rita was my preschool teacher.”

Roommate: “Wow!”

Sloth: “She used to let me sit in the dirty leaf pile and pick out earthworms. That was my favorite thing to do.”

Rita: “What was the blonde boy’s name that you were friends with?”

Sloth: “Leith.”

Rita: “Riiiiight, Leith…. And there was River and Oceanus…..”

Roommate: “What are you talking about?”

Sloth: “Kids in my class.”

Rita: “My favorite memory of that time was one day when you were all taking a nap and we were trying to decide what to do when you woke up. So we made batches of spaghetti with food coloring and you all took turns throwing them at the wall to make wall art.”

Sloth: “So fun!!”

Roommate: “…..”


Sloth: “That’s Gail and Leanne. They’ve been together since before I was born.”

Roommate: “What do they do?”

Sloth: “They breed dogs and get high. Oh, there they go. I’ll introduce you when they come back in.”


Papa Sloth: “Honey, this is Martin, do you remember him?”

Sloth: “………nope.”

Papa Sloth: “He’s a poet.”

Sloth: “Oh, cool. Nice to meet you.”

Martin: “Great party.”

Mama Sloth: “Slothy, you remember Martin, he was the stiltwalker in the puppet circus.”

Sloth: “Ohhhhhhhhhh! Right!!”

There were many more but I just got a dozen roses in the mail that I have to put in water. Happy my birthday, everyone!

December 14, 2006

Uh Muh Guh!!!

Filed under: Family, Whateverall — shhville @ 2:44 pm

Peeps!! I’m sorry to inform you all that I just found out YESTERDAY that everything I want processed by the end of the year has to be finished by MONDAY. Since when do they give me THREE MEASLY DAYS notice??? I’m the financial approver for AN ENTIRE GIGANTIC DEPARTMENT.


So, between this new development and my mom’s 50th birthday on Saturday, I’m afraid I won’t be a-bloggin’ until Tuesday comes a-knockin’. Good luck with whatever you have to do this weekend. Graaaaaamuhfuh!!!!!!

November 28, 2006

Overheard at Thanksgiving

Filed under: Family — shhville @ 4:06 pm

Mom: He has his list of things he hates.

Dad: I don’t hate anything.

M: He hates brussel sprouts.

D: I do not hate brussel sprouts.

M: Yes you do! You eat them once a year, at Thanksgiving, and you put the three smallest brussel sprouts you can find on your plate. (Miming delicate sprout-placement procedure.) 

D: See? I eat them. I don’t hate them. I don’t hate anything. There’s nothing I hate.

M: Yes you do hate things!

D: Nope.

M: You hate cottage cheese.


M: ….

D: If cottage cheese was the last food on earth I would starve to death. I tried it once against my better judgment and it was so vile, I spit it RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH.

M: I LOVE cottage cheese.

D: Uhhh!!! It is the most putrid – with those little lumps – curds! It has lumpy curds!

M: Mmmmm……with fruit……

D: I would rather DIE than eat ONE DISGUSTING CURD of cottage cheese. (Face completely serious.)

Sloth: Me too.

D: Ha! See?? Our daughter understands. (Moves chair over next to mine.)

M: So you DO hate something.

D: Just the cottage cheese. Other than that I like everything.

September 7, 2006

Dream inside a dream.

Filed under: Family, Slothyness — shhville @ 1:11 am

When I woke up this morning my grandmother was sitting in bed next to me. She was wearing a party dress and her strawberry-blonde hair, that only ever grayed at the temples, was tied back in a deep red bow with gold edging. A jubilant, “Hello Grandma!” and we were hugging.

One of my co-workers, Dan, was curled up at the foot of the bed tapping away on his laptop. We poked him with our toes for a good-natured, “Quit it!”

Behind my grandmother was a pile of gifts wrapped in gold and green shiny paper. “What are all these?” I asked. She smiled at me complacently and settled down in the bed. “Grandma, why are some of these gifts for Easter and some for Christmas?” Again, the peaceful smile, but now with a tinge of expectancy. I thought about it for a bit, then laid my hand on her frail, speckled wrist. “Are some of these for Christmas because you don’t expect to still be here at Christmas?” Her smile grew into itself, she seemed proud that I had figured it out. I didn’t bother to placate her because she didn’t need it, and because I also felt that she would pass on before then. I agreed with her, but it was ok.

We poked Daniel with our toes some more.

“I have to go to work now, Grandma. I’m going to be late.” She gazed at me, utterly serene. “How am I going to get all the way to Boston from D.C. in time for work?” Still she was silent, comfortable in her fancy dress in bed, surrounded by gifts.

I woke up and turned to Steven. “I just had a dream about my grandmother,” I said. “I wonder how she is. I should call.”




“Wait… my grandmother alive?”



“No, she’s not,” I said aloud in a rush of sorrow and tender missing.

Our co-worker Daniel was sitting at the foot of the bed watching a YouTube clip of a puppy yawning. We poked him with our toes.

It was time to get up but so many people had moved in over the Labor Day weekend that everything was in chaos. The bathroom was filthy with mildewy towels and a gritty sink. I knocked across the hall and two men answered the door. “May I borrow your bathroom?” I asked. They seemed truly sorry when they replied, “Oh, no. Oh dear. We’ve already promised it to seventeen Argentinians.” Turning around I noticed seventeen impatient Argentinians standing right behind me.

Back in bed, I woke for real. The dead never speak in my dreams. But they always seem content. For a few minutes there, I really thought she was still alive.

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