Fanfic Writers' Virtual Water Cooler

[Whytewytch]

Been bitten by dogs, cats, geese, lizards, horses. Nibbled by my fish on occasion. Gupster likes to swim up and give me "fishy kisses".

My a/c is STILL not fixed. The new tech comes tomorrow and said I should be up and running in two days, tops. In the meantime, I'm clearing out as much stuff as I can in preparation for our yard sale this Saturday. Hopefully, I'll get a lot more stuff out the door and the house will not look so crowded by then. Then, all I'll have to do is box the stuff I want to keep, but don't want out, clean off the flat surfaces, pick up and box the miscellaneous stuff on the floors, and get the rugs cleaned. Within the next week or so.

[Amara D'Angeli]

Geez lady! This is a rough time a year to be without AC in Florida! (A hurricane would be helpful in that regard, but alas we're storm free...)

Finges crossed the new repair estimate is accurate!

[Falcon Horus]

Busy busy busy...

Let's see, been bitten by cats, dogs, hamsters, rabbits, sheep, one donkey, horses. Scratched by chickens and pheasants. And nibbled on by fish... The irony of me, I'm afraid of fish in the water. I go into the sea or ocean, see a fish and hightail it back onto the beach. I worked at a store that sold goldfish and pond fish, and I own 4 acquariums with guppies.

[Starship Trooper]

The irony of me, I'm afraid of fish in the water. I go into the sea or ocean, see a fish and hightail it back onto the beach. I worked at a store that sold goldfish and pond fish, and I own 4 acquariums with guppies.

It must be some strange, twisted, attempt to master your fear. Or maybe you're creating an army of killer guppies to protect you when you go swimming?

KillerGuppie No. 1: Say, who were we meant to be protecting again?
KillerGuppie No. 2: I don't remember. That guy over there?

Wow, you guys do know how to taunt the animals don't you?

My dad always called our house 'Murphy's Menagerie'. We had everything from snakes (which we used to collect ourselves from the veldt) and monkeys to aviaries of budgies, and all the usual ensemble as well. Plus, I'm an avid horse-rider. Now I live in an apartment and don't have any animals (my doggie died last year). This makes me very sad. I miss all the animals.

My husband brings me to the park so I can play with the doggies.

[Whytewytch]

Geez lady! This is a rough time a year to be without AC in Florida! (A hurricane would be helpful in that regard, but alas we're storm free...)

Finges crossed the new repair estimate is accurate!

It honestly hasn't been TOO bad, temperature-wise, but only thanks to the ingenuity of hubby and Little Bear. What's broken is the fan motor. They rigged a warehouse fan to the intake, put it on a box so it is lined up correctly with the hole, then gaff-taped it to the hole to block any leakage, so all the air is pushed through the unit and out through the vents. The problems are:

A) It has to run constantly--no shutting off when the temp gets fine, so my light bill is going to be HIGH.
B) It's loud. I can't hear people knock on my front door, can barely hear them ring the bell, if I'm in my bedroom, kitchen, living room, office, or the hall by the kids' rooms.
C) It's redneck and it looks redneck. No problem with that. Except the whole "trying to sell the house" issue. People are not going to pay what our realtor thinks we can get for our house if the a/c isn't working.
D) That warehouse fan takes up a LOT of room in the narrow hallway outside my bedroom. And every time I walk by in something loose, it pulls at it and I'm afraid of the cloth getting sucked in and breaking the fan.

I hope this guy can get it repaired, too. My FIL just called last night. He was our back-up as he's a certified a/c tech (can't use him for general repairs or it voids the warranty, since he's not listed with the warranty company). His mother, who's 93, bless her heart, had a stroke yesterday. She's responding well to meds, but he's flying up there on Wednesday to see her and won't be back for a week.

Busy busy busy...

Let's see, been bitten by cats, dogs, hamsters, rabbits, sheep, one donkey, horses. Scratched by chickens and pheasants. And nibbled on by fish... The irony of me, I'm afraid of fish in the water. I go into the sea or ocean, see a fish and hightail it back onto the beach. I worked at a store that sold goldfish and pond fish, and I own 4 acquariums with guppies.

Definitely. I'm popping in here for breaks, but other than that... ATM, I'm in the long process of getting Little Bear out of bed so I can go get my shower.

Irony, but I don't blame you. I live in Florida. If there's anything non-human in the water with me, I'm Jesus, baby. Walking on water I'm out so fast. Between the movie "Jaws" as a kid and our local aquatic fauna, I don't take any chances in salt OR fresh water. Pools. Pools are nice.

We have three aquariums ATM. My younger son started it, got my older boy hooked, and then, when I raised Gupster over the summer from a tiny little rescue-fish, I got hooked. I have Gupster and his mom now (his dad passed), the older teen has three little white fish (some kind of molly?), and Little Bear is down to two Leopard Mollies, three shrimp, and another two or three fish of some sort.

It must be some strange, twisted, attempt to master your fear. Or maybe you're creating an army of killer guppies to protect you when you go swimming?

KillerGuppie No. 1: Say, who were we meant to be protecting again?
KillerGuppie No. 2: I don't remember. That guy over there?

Wow, you guys do know how to taunt the animals don't you?

My dad always called our house 'Murphy's Menagerie'. We had everything from snakes (which we used to collect ourselves from the veldt) and monkeys to aviaries of budgies, and all the usual ensemble as well. Plus, I'm an avid horse-rider. Now I live in an apartment and don't have any animals (my doggie died last year). This makes me very sad. I miss all the animals.

My husband brings me to the park so I can play with the doggies.

I feel your pain. My Norwegian forest cat, Oscar, died about 7 years ago. Hubby's allergic to cats, but Oscar was part of a package deal--marry me, adopt my cat. Since then, we haven't had any pets. Dogs are too much work for me and with hubby's allergies, cats are out. When we get moved to Maryland, we are in a very horse-concentrated area, so I should be able to get back to riding (we are actually about halfway between Pimlico and Laurel Downs racetracks). So, I content myself with my fish for the moment.

As to taunting...maybe. Like Amara, I grew up in the country. I wasn't ON the farm, but I lived in a town that had about half a dozen of them--one across the street, plus my best friend's family had a dairy farm. I'm only surprised that I never did get bitten by a goat, sheep, cow, or pig in all those years.

[fems]

I grew up with all kinds of pets and also had relatives who owned farms, so I was also familiar with cattle, chickens and horses as well. Personally, I think it's important for children to grow up with pets because it teaches them responsibility and to care for animals (and reduces the risk of fearing animals).

Compared to some of my friends, though, I was fortunate to have parents who both loved dogs. My father grew up with a dog too and he gave my mother one (a German Shepard) for their wedding because she had always wanted a dog when she was younger, but they weren't allowed to have any pets and so she would walk around the neighborhood with her stuffed toy dog (about 3 feet long, a realistic size but it couldn't stand on its legs and just got dragged around on its stomach) instead. She still has it in the attic and we used to play with it as well!

After the German Shepard died and my parents divorced my mother got us another dog, one that didn't have to be as trained as the GS (who could do just about anything on command) and was "ours". That sounds really cool but it kinda came down to us (my siblings and I) having to take care of it, as in walking and grooming it all the time and when we would complain she'd tell us that we were the ones that wanted a dog! Ah, but I did love that dog. She passed away just a few years ago, when she was 16 (human) years old. She had to be put to sleep because she had gotten so old, was practically blind (cataracts), missed a leg (amputated years earlier because of cancer), was pretty much deaf, had cancer (mammary tumors) and was getting too weak to move around properly on three legs. It was very sad but we couldn't let her suffer.

[SF_and_Coffee]

Like Amara, I grew up in the country. I wasn't ON the farm, but I lived in a town that had about half a dozen of them--one across the street, plus my best friend's family had a dairy farm. I'm only surprised that I never did get bitten by a goat, sheep, cow, or pig in all those years.

I cannot wait until you and I can hang out! I grew up the same way... rural neighborhood about 2-3 miles outside a small town surrounded by more rural countryside. Our only animals at home were an assortment of dogs, cats, guppies, a parakeet and at one point a spotted salamander I'd found in a window-well over winter break, brought inside and placed in a terrarium... but the neighbors had horses, cows, pigs and chickens. I remember climbing a tree over the neighbor's pigsty and standing on the roof of the little shed inside just because it was fun to watch the piggies look up and squeal. I also remember climbing (carefully) between strands of barbed wire fence to take a shortcut across a piece of pastureland that had always been empty, only to find halfway along that there was now a bull living there and he was rather irritated at having unannounced visitors (several friends were with me). You never saw five kids run so fast in your life. I think I left a bit of T-shirt on the wire as we climbed out the other side...

[Amara D'Angeli]

Having grown up in the country I can say without a doubt that it sure was a great way to grow up. The things we got into as kids, the experiences, the responsibility and work ethic it fostered, lazy summer days, stealing watermelons on horseback, swimming in the infield of the racetrack, strange pets, conventional pets, first paying jobs at 13...

Hurricane parties, sweet tea, bonfires, hayrides and treks through corn mazes, ice cream at the 1890s festival and blades of sweet grass that'd just as soon juice as make a whistle.

A big Friday night was a high school football game. And it was never too hot or too cold stare up at the stars while reclining on the hood of a pickup truck.

Boys wore Wranglers on gangly bodies and girls weren't afraid to get a little dusty.

We foaled down mares, calved cows and kidded goats. We watched kittens and puppies and little chicks make their way into the world.

We drank fresh milk right of the animal and ate eggs that were still warm from the hen. We snapped sweet ears of baby corn right off the stalks and ate them in the middle of the field. And we never went to sleep by the sound of emergency vehicles.

It was country music, southern rock and a little Jimmy Buffett while we worked and while we played. It was mowing until the sun went down and then just a little longer because the moon was so bright.

It was no cable and no cell phones because the signals didn't make it all the way out where we lived so we spent time with one another and we talked.

It was full on, high time, sweet country charm. And it was beautiful.

[Whytewytch]

I cannot wait until you and I can hang out! I grew up the same way... rural neighborhood about 2-3 miles outside a small town surrounded by more rural countryside. Our only animals at home were an assortment of dogs, cats, guppies, a parakeet and at one point a spotted salamander I'd found in a window-well over winter break, brought inside and placed in a terrarium... but the neighbors had horses, cows, pigs and chickens. I remember climbing a tree over the neighbor's pigsty and standing on the roof of the little shed inside just because it was fun to watch the piggies look up and squeal. I also remember climbing (carefully) between strands of barbed wire fence to take a shortcut across a piece of pastureland that had always been empty, only to find halfway along that there was now a bull living there and he was rather irritated at having unannounced visitors (several friends were with me). You never saw five kids run so fast in your life. I think I left a bit of T-shirt on the wire as we climbed out the other side...

I remember bringing the cows home in the evening with my friend. We used to ride horses bareback across pastures, through woods, across streams. I also owned a rabbit for a few months, until he died (he was the runt of the wild litter). We used to put out salt licks for the deer in winter. I can also remember pigs rooting in our yard from the farm across the street, and my dad freaking out when some of their cows and a bull wandered into our yard. He jumped up in the back of the truck while the calm little 8 year-old girl was pushing the big beasties along.

All right, my kitchen looks good now--nice and clean, the a/c guy has come and declared a bad motor or wear and tear (either of which should be covered by the warranty company), and I have an order to deliver and groceries to buy. Back in a bit!

[Falcon Horus]

It must be some strange, twisted, attempt to master your fear.

When cleaning out the tanks at the store, and I put my hand in to steady myself I'd threaten the fish not to come near.

Had a bit of a scare with the fish today... I had four escapees while cleaning the tanks, flopping on dry land aka my floor. I almost stepped on one too.

Or maybe you're creating an army of killer guppies to protect you when you go swimming?

KillerGuppie No. 1: Say, who were we meant to be protecting again?
KillerGuppie No. 2: I don't remember. That guy over there?

[SF_and_Coffee]

Amara, my childhood was more like this:

Hot and muggy in summertime -- which was always way too short! -- but we spent hours in the woods and fields, built tree forts, swam in the creek or pond (or sometimes a pool, as two neighbors did have them), caught crayfish in the creek, gathered every sort of wild berry, picked apples from wild-seeded trees and did the same with wild-seeded purple grapes, rode our bikes everywhere, caught frogs and toads just to see if we could before setting them loose again, picked wildflowers, and generally came home muddy and happy at the end of each summer day. At night we chased fireflies and played variations on hide-and-seek until well after dark. No cable -- you had to go into town if you wanted that. The radio soundtrack was 70s classic rock, mostly. And we fell asleep at night to the sound of crickets, the neighbor's dog, the occasional drone of stock-car races at the track several miles away to the south (sound really carries among the hills!) and the lonely whistle of freight trains passing miles away in various other directions.

In wintertime, we had knee-deep or even hip-deep snow, waited for the school bus in early-morning twilight, then returned home after school as the shadows lengthened toward sunset. (Northern days are short in the winter!) We built snow forts and snowmen and igloos, had snowball fights, ice-skated on the neighbor's pond and sledded down the tallest hill in the neighborhood. Sometimes we even jumped our sleds across the creek at the bottom, if we built up enough speed and thought we could make it. (And then sometimes we didn't make it across and had to trudge home wet and freezing.)

I didn't grow up on a farm, so I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no bovines! (Well, to be fair, the little bit I do know came from reading James Herriot's autobiographical books about life as a veterinarian in the Yorkshire Dales.)

[Starship Trooper]

I feel your pain. My Norwegian forest cat, Oscar, died about 7 years ago. Hubby's allergic to cats, but Oscar was part of a package deal--marry me, adopt my cat. Since then, we haven't had any pets. Dogs are too much work for me and with hubby's allergies, cats are out.

Compared to some of my friends, though, I was fortunate to have parents who both loved dogs. My father grew up with a dog too and he gave my mother one (a German Shepard) for their wedding because she had always wanted a dog when she was younger, but they weren't allowed to have any pets and so she would walk around the neighborhood with her stuffed toy dog (about 3 feet long, a realistic size but it couldn't stand on its legs and just got dragged around on its stomach) instead. She still has it in the attic and we used to play with it as well!

After the German Shepard died and my parents divorced my mother got us another dog, one that didn't have to be as trained as the GS (who could do just about anything on command) and was "ours". That sounds really cool but it kinda came down to us (my siblings and I) having to take care of it, as in walking and grooming it all the time and when we would complain she'd tell us that we were the ones that wanted a dog! Ah, but I did love that dog. She passed away just a few years ago, when she was 16 (human) years old. She had to be put to sleep because she had gotten so old, was practically blind (cataracts), missed a leg (amputated years earlier because of cancer), was pretty much deaf, had cancer (mammary tumors) and was getting too weak to move around properly on three legs. It was very sad but we couldn't let her suffer.

^ My heart breaks when I read things like this...

Having grown up in the country I can say without a doubt that it sure was a great way to grow up. The things we got into as kids, the experiences, the responsibility and work ethic it fostered, lazy summer days, stealing watermelons on horseback, swimming in the infield of the racetrack, strange pets, conventional pets, first paying jobs at 13...

Hurricane parties, sweet tea, bonfires, hayrides and treks through corn mazes, ice cream at the 1890s festival and blades of sweet grass that'd just as soon juice as make a whistle.

A big Friday night was a high school football game. And it was never too hot or too cold stare up at the stars while reclining on the hood of a pickup truck.

Boys wore Wranglers on gangly bodies and girls weren't afraid to get a little dusty.

We foaled down mares, calved cows and kidded goats. We watched kittens and puppies and little chicks make their way into the world.

We drank fresh milk right of the animal and ate eggs that were still warm from the hen. We snapped sweet ears of baby corn right off the stalks and ate them in the middle of the field. And we never went to sleep by the sound of emergency vehicles.

It was country music, southern rock and a little Jimmy Buffett while we worked and while we played. It was mowing until the sun went down and then just a little longer because the moon was so bright.

It was no cable and no cell phones because the signals didn't make it all the way out where we lived so we spent time with one another and we talked.

It was full on, high time, sweet country charm. And it was beautiful.

I remember bringing the cows home in the evening with my friend. We used to ride horses bareback across pastures, through woods, across streams. I also owned a rabbit for a few months, until he died (he was the runt of the wild litter). We used to put out salt licks for the deer in winter. I can also remember pigs rooting in our yard from the farm across the street, and my dad freaking out when some of their cows and a bull wandered into our yard. He jumped up in the back of the truck while the calm little 8 year-old girl was pushing the big beasties along.

Amara, my childhood was more like this:

Hot and muggy in summertime -- which was always way too short! -- but we spent hours in the woods and fields, built tree forts, swam in the creek or pond (or sometimes a pool, as two neighbors did have them), caught crayfish in the creek, gathered every sort of wild berry, picked apples from wild-seeded trees and did the same with wild-seeded purple grapes, rode our bikes everywhere, caught frogs and toads just to see if we could before setting them loose again, picked wildflowers, and generally came home muddy and happy at the end of each summer day. At night we chased fireflies and played variations on hide-and-seek until well after dark. No cable -- you had to go into town if you wanted that. The radio soundtrack was 70s classic rock, mostly. And we fell asleep at night to the sound of crickets, the neighbor's dog, the occasional drone of stock-car races at the track several miles away to the south (sound really carries among the hills!) and the lonely whistle of freight trains passing miles away in various other directions.

In wintertime, we had knee-deep or even hip-deep snow, waited for the school bus in early-morning twilight, then returned home after school as the shadows lengthened toward sunset. (Northern days are short in the winter!) We built snow forts and snowmen and igloos, had snowball fights, ice-skated on the neighbor's pond and sledded down the tallest hill in the neighborhood. Sometimes we even jumped our sleds across the creek at the bottom, if we built up enough speed and thought we could make it. (And then sometimes we didn't make it across and had to trudge home wet and freezing.)

^ But it soars when I read things like this.

[Princess Awinita]

I feel good today, you know why ? I got some Me and Hubby time last night

That is all

[Whytewytch]

Amara, my childhood was more like this:

Hot and muggy in summertime -- which was always way too short! -- but we spent hours in the woods and fields, built tree forts, swam in the creek or pond (or sometimes a pool, as two neighbors did have them), caught crayfish in the creek, gathered every sort of wild berry, picked apples from wild-seeded trees and did the same with wild-seeded purple grapes, rode our bikes everywhere, caught frogs and toads just to see if we could before setting them loose again, picked wildflowers, and generally came home muddy and happy at the end of each summer day. At night we chased fireflies and played variations on hide-and-seek until well after dark. No cable -- you had to go into town if you wanted that. The radio soundtrack was 70s classic rock, mostly. And we fell asleep at night to the sound of crickets, the neighbor's dog, the occasional drone of stock-car races at the track several miles away to the south (sound really carries among the hills!) and the lonely whistle of freight trains passing miles away in various other directions.

In wintertime, we had knee-deep or even hip-deep snow, waited for the school bus in early-morning twilight, then returned home after school as the shadows lengthened toward sunset. (Northern days are short in the winter!) We built snow forts and snowmen and igloos, had snowball fights, ice-skated on the neighbor's pond and sledded down the tallest hill in the neighborhood. Sometimes we even jumped our sleds across the creek at the bottom, if we built up enough speed and thought we could make it. (And then sometimes we didn't make it across and had to trudge home wet and freezing.)

I didn't grow up on a farm, so I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no bovines! (Well, to be fair, the little bit I do know came from reading James Herriot's autobiographical books about life as a veterinarian in the Yorkshire Dales.)

Quite similar. No car races, can't remember any freight trains. Picking apples, sledding down steep hills, traipsing through the woods to the old (circa 1600s) cemetery and sitting on a granite boulder by the old headstones for hours at a time. Picking wildflowers and climbing the "mountain" in the center of town (Stratham Hill), racing to the top over rocks and tree roots. No cable, have a nice day.

Snow so deep in winter we had to build a lean-to porch and keep a shovel there to make it from house to car in the mornings. Riding in the back of my dad's big red Ford pick-up truck & sitting on the sides even though he'd told us not to. Swimming in the pond and at the rich folks' pools (for swimming lessons). The smell of pine needles underfoot. The scents of hay and oats and warm horses in a cold winter barn. Hot cocoa made from cocoa powder, so hot the steam stung your cheeks when you came in from the snow. Snow forts and snowball fights and making angels in the new snow. Our Pomeranian, Rusty, leaping to walk through the snow, his little pink tongue lolling out and a permanent doggie smile on his face--he loved the snow. Buttercups and daisies in the spring and the taste of new-born grass sans pesticide. What an amazing childhood I had!

Sorry it's all jumbled--just went with the old free thought thing and jotted it all down as it came to me. Well, off to karate with Little Bear!

[Seaboe Muffinchucker]

I grew up in a college town in the middle of nowhere surrounded by wheat fields (it's still in the middle of nowhere, but now it's surrounded by as many dry pea and lentil fields as it is wheat). This is more or less what it looks like.

We had one pet, a dog, because my father grew up on a farm and did not want a house full of animals (he knew how much work they were, and how much space they needed). I don't think my mother had pets growing up. My brother is deathly allergic to cats (unlike you, WW, my sister-in-law had to choose between her cats and my brother. She couldn't have both), so those were out.

Seaboe