Friday, February 6, 2009

A Frothy Pond

The water was afroth at the Pond this week.
Blowfish stomped on my very last nerve .
According that graybearded puffball even minimal civility is a struggle.
Visions of blunt force trauma have danced through my head.
Very creative trauma too, in wonderfully vibrant K9 ish colors.

This gets complicated.
Maybe boring .
So don't feel like you have to read my wrath.

Saturday I went on a cooking spree. I do this from time to time. I cook up pots and pots of my favorite comfort foods and package them in vacuum sealed , space age plastics for the freezer. I do this more often in the Winter because I need comforting more in the winters.

This Winter seems particularly hard cause the snapdragons, pansies, violas and dianthus I plant in all the big pots around the Pond to cheer me thru the Winter are absent this year.
Blowfish came home one day in late Fall with some chemical in a bottle you hook up to the hose for cleaning gutters and such. He did a great job on the gutters but he didn't read the warnings about hazzards to living things like plants and animals and......well , there are no potted plants this year. I even had to dump all the expensive dirt out of the pots and bag it like toxic waste.

Anyway,
I was up and out early buying ingredients and hauling them back to the Pond. Usually Blowfish helps get things unloaded and hauled into the house, but this time he didn't. He was reading and seemed a bit broody.
"You okay Blowfish'? I asked
No answer.
"Are you ill" ?
A big puffy sigh before the Blowfish said," Listen Fishy, not everyone is a morning fish. Not everyone wants to haul 50 grocery sacks inside before the first cup of coffee is fully savored and the paper is recycled."

Well, okay.

So I set about doing all the hauling, unpacking, sorting of those 50 sacks. Blowfish came on into the Kitchen to investigate the scheduled productions: pasta sauce, three meat chili, chickenfishy, vegetable beef soup and roasted rib split pea soup. He asked a few questions about the schedule of events. I explained I wasn't cooking for the day, I was cooking for the freezer. He puffed up a bit but finned on out of there without comment.

I decided I would season up the spare ribs and get 'em ready to go in a hot, hot oven. That way they could be roasting while I washed and chopped a mammoth amount of veggies. It wasn't too long before Blowfish came back thru asking about the good smells. I told him he was just smelling the onions grilling . He sniffed and commented it smelled like more than onions to him but went on back outside to tinker with his tools.

When those ribs came out of the oven they were perfect. Crusted on the outside, juicy on the inside and smelled wonderous. The Hound was half a house away, out on the deck standing on her hinds to look inside and was sniffing the air between the yowls. Blowfish came in and said,
"What's the matter with that Hound"?
"Rib envy" I speculated.
Truth is, Blowfish looked about the same as the hound; leaning over the counter and breathing in big. He started to reach toward the pan when I brandished my wooden spoon thru the air.
"Those ribs are going in my pea soup" I reminded.
Blowfish gave me a stern look and said,
"Fishy, I am having some of those ribs right about now. That's a half a rack of prime spareribs there and all of em don't need to be in your damn soup".
"My DAMN soup?, don't you mean my wonderful soup"?
"What kind of fool puts ribs in soup!" he yelled.

I paused, something was definitely wrong with Blowfish. I mean, there he was standing in the Keep looking snarky and yelling at me about some ribs and cussing my soup.

" Are you really going to stand there and tell me what to do with my ribs"?, I asked.
"If you have a powerful hankering for ribs why not just be polite and ask if there's enough ribs for the soup and a Blowfish snack? Why get crazed about it and ,will you please do something about the dreadful noise coming out of that HOUND !" By now the hound was hurling her body at the door and making enough racket for the neighbors to be wondering if they should call 911 about a murder in progress.

Before I finished getting the words out of my mouth Mermaid was on the cell phone calling to tell about the hardships of life in an icestorm. I left the kitchen so I could hear my child rail about the vagaries of Mother Nature and the many complexities of dealing with large animals confined by weather, etc, etc.

As I came back downstairs I was thinking Thank God Blowfish did something to quiet the Hound. As I entered the Kitchen I noticed immediately the ribs had been reduced in number by about a third. Well, I thought, I am not going to war over a few ribs, I have cooking to do.
So I happily scrubbed , chopped, stirred and cleaned for an hour or more. I got things to a point where I could leave the pots on low heat and went to start the weekend laundry. For once I was actually enjoying the domesticity of the day.

When I came back to the kitchen, there were just 4 ribs remaining. Not enough for the soup and now I WAS thinking about going to war. I made my way outside for the confrontation only to find Blowfish wasn't playing with the tools. So I wandered around til I found him out on the deck drinking an icy cold beer and feeding rib bones to the Hound.

"Stop"!
"Blowfish, you can't feed rib bones to that dog! Good grief, that animal has the most touchy digestive system of any living creature on the planet! If it doesn't kill her I guarantee you it will make a ginormous problem to deal with directly'!
Blowfish took a swig of his beer , puffed up a bit and informed me he and the Hound were bonding. He knew exactly how she felt about rib depravations. He mentioned he had fed table scraps to all his dogs his whole life and there wasn't any reason he couldn't or shouldn't do the same thing with this one. What did I think animals in the wild ate? I clearly did not know what I was talking about and ,by the way, those were the best ribs ever.
"How many ribs did you give her?"
"All of 'em"
"All"?
" Yep. I ate the meat, she ate the bones. Bonding is good".
"Yes well, we'll see how bonded you are in about an hour"

I figured I knew what was wrong with Blowfish, he'd clearly lost his mind.

I left the deck, returned to my domestic activities and turned on a movie.

About half way thru the movie I heard the most godawful noise. Made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I started running before my brain could even process the source of those ever increasing dreadful sounds. As I was running toward the Garden Room door to the Deck I saw Blowfish come rushing from the far side of the Pond. I flung open the door but stopped just in time before opening the storm door. Blowfish wasn't as quick.

The Hound!
That poor Hound with the touchy tummy, was keening like a wounded animal. Spinning round and round like a whirling dervish and just slinging the spew from her backside like the psychedylic paint machines at the fair. It was a pitiful site. That animal was suffering something fierce. I yelled thru the door for Blowfish to help the dog while I phoned the vets. Blowfish looked stunned as the psychedylic decorations from the Hound sprayed over newly painted house walls, windows, railings, doors ... and Blowfish.

If there is no bleeding said the vet, then she hasn't perforated anything so you need to give her some doggy pepto bismol stuff and a tranquilizer. I could barely hear her the keening was so loud. I went to tell Blowfish I was off to the vets to pick up injectable medicines and would be right back.

Well,
we got the hound medicated to a nice calm on all fronts. Gave her a bath and even snuggled her up to a hot water bottle to aid in soothing her terrible tummy ache. When the drama was over and the dog was settled I got up and went inside. I did not say a single word to Blowfish during all that drama except to say, hold this or that .

I was on my way to the shower when my cell phone rang.
It was Blowfish standing at the Deck door on his cell phone.
"Fishy", he said "Are you coming back outside to help me?
There's quite a bit of cleaning up to do and I need to come inside and get squared away myself"

I could not believe my ears. I marched over to the Deck door and stared that Blowfish in the face while informing him he was not setting foot in my house, I had locked all the doors . I also informed him the clean up was his duty, not mine . I went on to say once the house was sanitized he could call me back and we'd negotiate from there.
I red phoned him and headed back to get a shower.
My phone rang, I turned it off.
The back doorbell rang, I didn't answer it.
I made it upstairs and stopped to peak outside. Blowfish was looking as tired and gray as that bleak winter day. He was just standing, looking forlorn and confused . He didn't look bonded to a damn thing besides his own misery. I suspect he was trying to figure out how he and the house came to be covered in dog muck. Eventually he will figure it out and I'll unlock the doors.

15 comments:

Aunty Belle said...

post video!

Fishy, youse a big stitch.

(somethin' familiar about how all this sounds...)

fishy said...

Hey Belle!
Happy Saturday to you.
Honeychile...I can't take a video of the past but I was a hoping the writing could put all the images in your mind you'd care to see. I certainly know you to be a true Southerner cause of calling me " a stitch".
Other regions don't understand our colorful language.
But I reckon if they laugh hard enough at the Pond foolishness to get a stitch in their side , they'll be understanding directly. My Mama fish always has said I'm a big stitch and useful too! I guess that means being useful is the bonus to being a stitch!
Too bad my Mama doesn't visit the blogs, she'd laugh a plenty at this posting!
What's happening on the Porches today?

Aunty Belle said...

Fishy-Icthy,

A useful stitch?? Now Thas' Somethin'!

Yore writin' is near to bein' a video. Thanky fer visitin mah tomater patch--good luck wif' yore seed catalogs.

CHEF TROLL said...

Bad blowfish, bad! "What do you think dogs eat in the wild?" just slays me.

Boxer said...

You actually locked him out? Bwahahahahaha. You are a true Southern Woman. I am impressed and terribly sorry for the Hound and actually for Blowfish too. I've had similar issues with a dog with a senstive stomach and a Mister who thinks scraps aren't bad. This story is extremely well told and greatly entertaining.
I'm glad K9 fussed at you!

fishy said...

Boxer,
I did lock him out! I even remembered to fetch indoors the key we stash in the garage!

The hound is a rescue Mermaid found hiking up in the Cumberland Gap. She was a pup, only 4 to 6 months old and had been in a terrible tussle with a bobcat. When Mermaid found her, one side along her ribs was filleted and hanging in a flap. All animals love Mermaid so she somehow gained the Hound's trust so she and a friend could pack her out of the mountains to a vet. The end result is a beautiful, but pitifully neurotic, nervous, sensitive creature. She's fine, and Blowfish is back inside ;-)

K9 said...

grrrrrrrrherhahahahahaha! ahhhhhhh married life. rib bones are really really bad for dogs. they splinter up. youre lucky you dont have a gigantic vet bill right now.
yeah, useful has a lot of currency in my family. im not called useful. im "cute" grrrrrrherhahahahahahaha!!!

im surprised you didnt throw blowfish a sleeping bag out the window. er.....how are things today? i hope he isnt plotting revenge. and - get well soon to the hound.

youre hilarious fishy. thanks for FINALLY writing and not skating by on mute mondays. sheeeesh.

fishy said...

Chef Troll,
You caught that? I did..er...mention that dogs in the wild do not eat seasoned, roasted ribs from animals bigger than they are. Maybe bird, squirrel, rabbit but not a porker.
That foolish fish fellow of mine actually asked with a straight face if I'd ever heard of forest fires? Damn if he didn't sound like the politicians defending their hogzillas.

K9,
Now you know why I wasn't bloggin too much this week, had all that bad juju at the Pond and didn't want to spread it like a disease. So thanks for the encouragement...and I hope the posting made you howl with the comedy of it all

Yep, a "useful" stitch to my MomFish; reckon there are far worse legacies.
Don't know what could be wrong in your
litter cause I have studied your Rotty avatar and "cute" doesn't come to mind. On the other hand...a good many of those creatures you created were very cute..... and I love my K9 creature coloring page! I've done 3 so far; great fun so thanks again for that cute, creative, clever posting.

fishy said...

K9)
PS...thanks for the nudge to do another posting, when I went back and read what
I had written I laughed until I cried...way past a stitch! I guess the writing of a thing is therapeutic. :-)

Aunty Belle said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Aunty Belle said...

huh? Rottie dawg fussed at ya' ? Heh. Musta missed that one. But I WAS happy to see ya stop slackin' on the yore blogligations. Iffin' youse messin around this blog neighborhood, ya got have a decent size addiction--see TROLL's haiku--or the rest of us is miffed.

But why I came back over heah is to see how them soups turned out?

P.S. Iffin' Useful ain't Cute, least it ain't all the way to Dutiful. On some thangs, count yore blessins.

fishy said...

Hey Belle,
All the pots o cooking turned out just great. Course I was short of them ribs for the split pea soup but the ones I did have remaining infused flavor through the soup just fine. I did have to resort to broiling us some chops to add in but it still came out yummy.

I make my veggie-beef soup the way my Mamafish taught me ... starting with a bunch of cabbage and adding most every vegetable there is.

I was thinking earlier today, over on your tomato post, how a bowl a my chili, some crusty bread and your yellow pear tomato salat would be a fine menu.

Mebbe that should be my addiction on Monday .... recipes!

Dani said...

So funny Fishy! Glad the pup got to feelin' better.

moi said...

Oh, poor hound! What IS it with men thinking they know everything about dogs? I can't count the number of times I've had to swat a chicken or rib bone out of my spousal unit's hand as he's headed towards our dog's salivating mouth. No, no, no! Bad, husband, bad!

Gypsy said...

That was wickedly entertaining Fishy and until you got to the part about the Hound and the result of eating those ribs, I have to say you had me salivating over here with your cooking. Not so much afterwards though...


I'm glad the poor hound is feeling better now and that blowfish is allowed back inside. Did he have his tail between his legs? I hope he looked suitably chastened as he skulked past you.