Learned over the weekend that mom's gone all schizo-bitch over this grandma and grandpa situation. She wants to run down there and clean out their house RIGHT NOW. Not go down and help out. Not go to see them. Not go down for any practical, realistic, or kind reason. But go down there because someone may beat her to whatever treasure she thinks may lay in their house.
It's very possible if she does that Mr. Mom may wind up in the hospital next to grandpa. Uncle has open-ended threats hanging out there. Unfortunately, my relationship with Mr. Mom is such that I've asked uncle to let me know if he needs help hiding the body. As near a sworn enemy as I have, and I'd team up with him to rid the world of that nuissance.
Not that it would come to that. But uncle was planning out medical expenses for various techniques he may have to apply to Mr. Mom were he to try and impose his will to this situation.
Have I mentioned Mr. Mom tried to sue for power of attorney before? No? Why is beyond me, with several living relatives living close at hand to grandma and grandpa that would actually give a fuck about them, one of them that had legal power of attorney granted to him when they began their downward slide by them because they knew he'd take care of things properly. Mr. Mom is all pissy pants about it because he somehow thinks he should be in charge of the world. Fucktard.
And mom herself? I don't have the patience.
The Dethklok Christmas Special came at perhaps the most appropriate time ever for me personally. All of them dealing with their psycho mothers, and Murderface's grandma, made me laugh heartily. Glad to see even cartoon metal gawds get bossed around by nutcase mothers.
Went to see Mrs. NFB's sister and family Saturday. Had an incident with the niece that drove home the fact that she's slowly growing to be a master manipulator. Of course, that's the parental decision making process in effect at her age. It's sad to watch it happen and know you can't have any real effect on it. She's a good kid at heart, but the folks that are normally around her let her get by with murder, and anyone who dares tell her no, to anything, for any reason, is someone that needs to apologize for being "mean." I mean, sure, it's fun to lay on your back and have a fifty-five pound bundle of energy jumping up and down on your ribs full-force, but I'm not sure why I had to apologize for asking her to stop. In fact, I'm not sure how I resisted the urge to just toss her off and let her faceplant onto the floor beside me. Maybe I should apologize for that thought, but certainly not for saying, "hey, could you do me a favor and not ever jump on my ribs like that again? Thanks."
I'm pretty sure that's one of the reasons I've been decried as one of the mean ones. Granted, I'm also the last of the uncles left who's willing to play with her at all, so there is that. I'm a slow learner, what can I say?
As I've been saying for the past couple years, some day she's gonna make some dude's life a living hell. And her parents are doing everything they can to make that eventuality a reality.
LLT got a new supply of better sized crickets and has been downing them like crazy. We chatted with the vet and he recommended we keep giving her baby food for another month or so, but only once a day instead of twice. So she's back to nightly feedings. He did say it's OK to let her decide when she's done eating, so we get her started, then let go of her and she turns away from the food when she turns away. He said what will happen is eventually she'll keep herself full enough with crickets and any other assorted bug we feed her that she'll lose interest in the baby food. I dunno about that. Seems like no matter how many crickets she eats a day she still likes the baby food pretty good.
He also said that a lot of people are really screwing up their moist hides this time of year. He said they've gotten a lot of bad shed cases and missing toes from skin sticking on the end of the digits cutting off circulation. I'm shocked with the amount of neglect LLT suffered she didn't lose any toe ends. She still has every claw as far as I can tell. And loves to use them to crawl around my neck and head when she's out roaming in the evening. It's an interesting sensation to have a bunch of little lizard claws sticking in your neck. Like twenty little needles lightly prickling you with movement. Almost a micro-massage, with more tickles.
She seems to have become obsessed with a picture of the brother-in-law hanging beside my spot on the couch. Not sure what that's about.
The cory cats moved into the big tank this weekend. It still feels strange to think of thirty gallons as "big." Anyway, they've been busy-bodying themselves ever since they moved. They seem to like the room, and have become fascinated with swimming around, through, under, and over the driftwood.
I went and grabbed a bunch of neon tetras to stick in the quarantine tank. I bought ten, but the guy tossed me thirteen or fourteen. I know it's more than twelve, but that's about the point I always seem to lose track counting. This morning before they fully woke up I think I counted thirteen.
He's starting to get familiar with me and starting to chat about his tanks at home. Apparently he has a ginormous planted tank with thirty neons, thirty black neons, thirty head and taillights, thirty white clouds, and thirty um, crap, forgot the last one. He said he likes to watch that tank the most out of all of them because each of the species sticks to their own group. It's like watching a bunch of different colored clouds floating around amongst the plants.
The new neons are TINY. Like, could almost fit through the filter slots tiny. And that's a small filter.
If they ever get ottos in again, I'll probably add another three of them. And then one other species, and that's it. Some sort of showy fish that's big enough to seem threatening to the schooling neons, but not actual be a threat. I was thinking dwarf gourami or something. Have to research.
Once that's all over, I'm going to have to come up with some permanent resident for the current quarantine tank. The kitties love to sit on that stand and watch the activity in the tank. Maybe I'll stick a beta in there? Or a pair of shell cichlids or something?
Crap. I WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO TANK SYNDROME! I WILL NOT!
The had a really nice 125 for cheap, and my room will have an empty spot once I'm all done with the . . . .
*SHAKES HEAD* No.
Retuning the guitar and bass. Decided it's time to get back to standard for a while. Mr. Kitten destroyed my mic cable. Little bastard has a chewing problem, and somehow always manages to find whatever the most expensive cable is at any given moment. I went a bought a road-rugged bastard of an XLR cable to replace it. Chew through that, mowser.
Started an interesting little ditty last night. Had this melody in my head for about a year and a half that's been driving me crazy. So not rock and roll. 3/4 time, has a crazy amusement park type vibe to it. But it wouldn't leave me alone. So last night I started recording it. Piano, bass, gotta get the guitar finished up so I can add that in. Layers, on layers. Not sure where it's going. I just know the beginning. So many songs start that way. Hopefully this one will result in something other than bleh, this sucks by the time I'm done.
Saw a nice used Les Paul faded while I was shopping for the cable and strings. Mrs. NFB was along so I didn't play it. The price was nice though. Also saw a couple nice LTD Vs for teh cheaps. Neck thru Vs rule.
Not that I can afford any of that right now. Well, maybe I could, but I'm not gonna. Self control. It's something I've been working on lately.
That's enough for a Monday. I already feel like I need a drink.
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