Monthly Archive: November 2012

Nov 29

You can take the wine out of the crone, but eventually you’re gonna have to put it back in

Of the many little methods by which the shriveling of civilization inflicts itself on a crone living way the hell out here, perhaps none is as painful as the jangling pang occasioned by the wine cellar running dry. As inconceivable as it may seem to you, gentle reader, the closest drinkable bot is a full …

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Nov 25

Crone doesn’t rule out becoming turkey-brothers with feral cat

Lest I be accused of insufficient cat blogging — I think it is an Internetian misdemeanor when a blogger can be demonstrated to have access to a cat and yet cat-blogs not — here is the latest photo of Smudge. Smudge is the name I’ve given to the feral cat who’s been hanging around here …

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Nov 25

Crone keeps hanging out on Savage Death Island

No sooner do I abandon my perfectly defunct patriarchy blaming blog in order to focus on A Crone’s Natural History Adventures in the Hinterland, than I start patriarchy blaming again. My genetic blamer mutation will not be denied, I guess. Clearly I have yet to work a few kinks out of the system. Well, until …

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Nov 24

Crone’s remarks on turkey-pardoning take a patriarchy-blaming turn

No one was more surprised than I when it was discovered that misogynist celebrity self-promotion vehicle PETA and I have a peeve in common. I allude to the annual heartwarming presidential pardoning of the Thanksgiving turkeys. PETA is against it because it “makes light of the mass slaughter of some 46 million gentle, intelligent birds.” …

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Nov 19

Pink apocalypse (Apinkalypse) part 957


Shoptivism. That’s when people who have a little too much breast cancer awareness buy crap with pink ribbons all over it. Thanks to the awareness-behemoth Komen Foundation, there isn’t a soul anywhere in the known universe who isn’t aware as all get-out. Well, let me clarify. Hardly anybody is aware that Komen, in all its …

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Nov 18

Hella-sharp stickleburrs totally bum crone out

Just once I would like to take a simple stroll in the woods without having to pull about 657 of these flippin things out of the dogs’ paws. Extraction is grim affair the chief characteristics of which are blood and agony, for all parties. On the upside, I’m hatching a plan to make a little …

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Nov 17

Stella takes it in the teeth

I thought I might go a week without a veterinary encounter of the third kind. Ha! Just as I was burrowing into the couch with crone-appropriate shawl over my shoulders and a big steaming bowl of jambalaya in my lap, my hateful iPhone chirped the news that it was time for Stella’s 6-month dental checkup. …

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Nov 13

Crone holds forth on the horrors of re-riderdom

Having made the acquaintance of some re-riders,* I hypothesize that all of us are scared shitless. I took 35 years off after the usual fearless horsey childhood. Big mistake! If you don’t use it, you lose it. I can’t pinpoint with any accuracy the precise moment at which I devolved into a spineless greenhorn tenderfoot, …

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Nov 11

CroneTalk with Clem and Lester

Clem: Hey, have you seen the Crone anywhere? Lester: She’s not pulling a deer out of the dog’s throat? Clem: Not since this morning. Lester: Is she battling an incursion of vibrating daddy longlegs over at the loafing shed? Clem: If so, the spiders won, because she’s not there now. Lester: Daddy longlegs aren’t spiders. …

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Nov 10

Ginger Rogers’ massive swelling baffles science

Behold Ginger Rogers’ awesome pair of pus-bags. Well, technically they’re not pus-bags. The vet says “generalized cellulitis.” Well, what does she know? ‘Pus-bags’ is more poetic, and therefore more accurate. In any event, the facts are these: poor Ginger Rogers is afflicted with a hideous oozing inflammation, as well as with 15 or 20 hard, …

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