I have shit to get done today, so I’m tossing up a meme and some pictures and calling it good enough!
Stolen from Ms. Darkstar.
Accent: I have none. Or I have a southern accent. Or I sound like I’m from the Midwest. Depends on who you ask! (Personally, I think I have none.)
Breakfast or no breakfast: Breakfast. Usually scrambled eggs and yogurt or scrambled eggs and whatever fruit’s around or scrambled eggs and toast. Are we sensing a theme here?
Chore I don’t care for: I’m not crazy about any of them, but I always put off dusting ’til someone’s about to come visit. I spent an hour and a half dusting yesterday, pulling everything off the shelves and wiping them down. This house is DUSTED.
Dog or Cat: Cats. But I do like my Georgie and my Gracie, though.
Essential Electronics: iPod (I have to have something to listen to when I’m in the kitchen or vacuuming or dusting). Cell phone, not that I use it all that much. My computer. My laptop
Favorite Perfume: I don’t really wear perfume these days, can’t remember the last time I did. My favorite smell these days is the scent of sun-dried clothes, does that count?
Gold or Silver: Silver or white gold. (I can’t really tell the difference between the two.)
Handbag I carry most often: It used to be the Ameribag (I have several different ones), but a few months ago I bought a Relic handbag at Kohl’s, and it’s working surprisingly well for me. (I’d link to it, but I don’t know the exact model, and I has no time for Googling. Did I mention I have shit to do?)
Insomnia: Never. I can’t remember the last time I couldn’t get to sleep.
Job Title: Head Jam-Maker and Egg-Packer at Cr00ked Acres.
Kids: One – the spud lives in Rhode Island with her father and stepmother. (She’s 20.) (The spud, that is, not the stepmother.)
Living Arrangements: One 80 year-old farm house, one 41 year-old husband, 10 cats of varying ages, two puppydogs, and too many chickens to count.
Most Admirable Trait: I DON’T KNOW. This makes me uncomfortable.
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: Trying to get myself out of trouble by tattling on someone else about something completely unrelated so they’d get in trouble instead. (Never worked very well.)
Overnight hospital stays: Many. Tonsils, knee surgery, c-section, gastric bypass, lower body lift. Huh. I guess that’s not really that many, is it? (Y’all who’ve never had surgery are pale with horror at the idea that I consider that “not that many”, aren’t you?)
Phobias: I don’t know – I don’t think I have any, really. I used to be bug-phobic (specifically wasps and bees), but since we moved here have gotten pretty blase about killing them (bare-handed, if required) and tossing them out the door. Is being concerned that I’ll have to shoot someone who’s trying to break into the house and forgetting to disengage the safety a phobia? Oh no, I know – I don’t like to touch dead things, dead and cleaned chickens notwithstanding.
Quote: “Let. Me. TELL. You. A. Story.”
Reason to smile: Cats. Chickens. Dogs.
Siblings: Three; a sister and two brothers.
Time I wake up: Usually a little before 6, when Fred wakes me to say goodbye before he leaves for work. If left to my own devices, I’ll generally sleep ’til 7. (That gets earlier as the days get longer. Generally once the sun is up, I can’t get back to sleep.)
Unusual Talent or Skill: I can raise my left eyebrow, wiggle my ears, and roll my tongue. Fascinating, no?
Worst Habit: Chewing my fingernails, forgetting to put lotion on my hands with any kind of regularity, snapping at Fred when he overexplains.
X-rays: I don’t know; I don’t keep track of that shit.
Yummy Stuff: 88-Calorie brownies.
Zoo Animal I Like Most: Meerkats!
Whoever said that they thought this bird (the one who nests in a hole in the pecan tree and pops his head out when I jiggle the branch) is a woodpecker was right – this is the first time I’ve seen the bit of red on his head (in the first picture). He appears to be a Downy Woodpecker.
The baby chicks are now almost three weeks old!
I’m pretty sure this is the baby of one of the Featherheads. She’s got a little mohawk going on.
I love the little mohawk – she’s the Rock Star’s baby, crossed with one of the roosters (I don’t know which). I think she’s going to be as gorgeous as her mother.
I feel like I’m imposing. They’re all “What do YOU want?”
I recently finished these cross-stitch pictures. They’re simple and quick (well, would have been if I’d worked on them every night instead of noodling around on the laptop) and I’ve had the patterns forever. I have some Kats by Kelly patterns I want to cross-stitch, but I’m forcing myself to do some of the stuff I’ve had for years before I’ll do the ones I really want to.
Hail Stinky,
Full of Hate,
The Tom is with thee.
Hateful art thou among kittehs,
and frightened is the brunt
of thy doom, Joe Bob.
Previously
2008: The pigs reported that he tasted “Too humany.”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Dumbass things I did yesterday.
2004: I think I need to go back to high school.
2003: “Well, good luck to Daddy on that,” I said.
2002: (You just shut up)
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.