So the things I need to work on as far as this site goes:
1. Fix the banner so y’all can see it no matter what size you’re viewing it at (hopefully that’s not beyond my skills!).
2. Add “before” and “after” links to the top of each entry (they were there with the last design, I’m going to have to see if I can figure out how I did that). For the record, if you click on the “comments” link under each entry, way at the bottom under the comments are “before” and “after” links. I know some of you would rather have them at the top too so I’m going to work on that.
3. Fix the colors in the sidebars.
Anything else that jumps out at y’all?
On Saturday, Fred was headed back toward the house after settling the chickens for the evening. It was, shockingly enough, another rainy day and the chickens hadn’t spent much time outside because of it.
They don’t really like to get their feet wet – or rather, I should say they don’t like to have their feet wet for days on end.
As he headed back to the house, he glanced over into the maternity yard and he saw what looked like a chicken, against the fence in the small chicken yard. He stopped and looked. It wasn’t moving, and he decided it must be a clump of leaves caught in the fence, but then decided to go take a closer look, just in case.
It turned out to be a little Rhode Island Red, one of the six week-old ones. The yard is fenced with welded wire, and he ran chicken wire inside that to keep the smallest chicks from getting out. This little one had gotten trapped between the layers of fencing – apparently before the rain – then held there throughout the storm. Worst of all, that part of the fence is right in the middle of the runoff area, so the poor little guy was probably in 4-6 inches of chilly water during the rain and after it.
Fred thought the chicken was dead, and then it blinked.
I was in the kitchen cleaning up after Snackin! Time! when the back door opened and Fred called “I need a box!” I found a cardboard box to hold the chicken, Fred lined the box with paper towels and put the chicken inside, set up the heat lamp, and brought the whole setup into the living room.
When he first brought the chicken inside, it looked pretty much dead. After two hours of sitting under the heat lamp, it was perfectly fine. Fred took it back out to the blue chicken coop, and the next morning we couldn’t even tell which chicken was the one who’d been heated back to life.
You could say the cats were interested.
Mister Boogers was both interested and a bit freaked out. And with a twitch of Fred’s foot…
…this was the result. We laughed ourselves stupid.
Miz Poo was less interested in the chicken and more interested in how she could get under the heat lamp, too.
::perk:: “Hey, guys! What up?”
Bessie was not interested in that chicken at ALL. She just wanted to bite on the corner of the box.
Remember how a few months ago we went up to Amish country and ended up ordering a cabinet to go in the kitchen where the bookcase is?
Sure you do. I wrote about it here.
Well, we thought it’d be mid-summer before the cabinet was finished, so imagine our surprise at the end of April when we received a letter from the man building the cabinet, letting us know that we could come pick it up.
We got the letter on a Saturday – I’m usually right out there checking the mail at 10:00, but on this particular Saturday I didn’t mosey out there ’til early afternoon. Had I checked the mail when I usually do, I probably would have insisted that we go up to Tennessee and get it that very day. We planned to go and get it the following Saturday (this past Saturday), but Fred the Weatherman worried and fretted and pissed Mother Nature off so that it stormed all day long. We knew pretty much as soon as we got up that morning that we weren’t going to go get the cabinet, because although we could wrap it in a tarp, if it was going to rain really hard – and it did – the cabinet would get wet, and it’s raw wood, so we didn’t want that to happen.
So we wrote a letter to the man who’d built the cabinet, apologizing for not showing up, blamed the weather, and told him we’d be up to get it on the next nice day.
We originally thought that we’d go up there Friday, but as the weather patterns changed – and they always do, don’t they? – we decided that yesterday would be our best day to go. Fred left work early, came home, we loaded up the truck with a tarp and a blanket, and we headed for Tennessee.
We got to the furniture shop to find that the man who’d built our cabinet wouldn’t be back ’til after 3 (this was at 2:20), but that his neighbor could help out anyone picking up furniture. We drove to the neighbor’s house, parked in the driveway, and Fred got out to look for the neighbor. Near the barn was tied a young cow, and as Fred walked away from the truck, she walked toward him with great purpose, like she’d been waiting for us to show up. She was adorable, and I wish I’d snapped her picture.
Fred offered the neighbor a ride back over to the furniture shop, and the neighbor hopped into the back of the truck. So of course all the way back to the furniture shop, we worried that Fred would hit a bump really hard, the man would go flying out and hurt himself, and we’d be on the Amish Shit List.
We made it back just fine, and Fred and I unwrapped the tarp and put it in the bed of the truck, then I stood outside and held one side of the tarp down (it was kind of windy), and Fred and the neighbor went inside to figure out which piece of furniture was our cabinet. Fred waved for me to come inside and look at the cabinet, and I went in and I’ll tell you what – that is one SOLID piece of furniture. It was also bigger than I’d expected, and I said “Oh my god! I love it!”
Fred hissed “Don’t say oh my god!” and I turned tail and ran back outside.
The thing that scares me about going up to Amish country is that I’m terrified I’m going to blurt something out and offend someone. I can FEEL the profanities on the tip of my tongue, just ready to be unleashed – “Hell-O, Amish motherfuckers, and how ’bout that goddamn rain!” – and so I do my best to just stand off to the side and keep my stupid mouth shut.
I offended no one this time, in fact I’ve never offended any of the Amish (that I’m aware of), but I can just FEEL it coming one of these days.
While Fred and the neighbor were trying to figure out how they were going to get the cabinet out the door and onto the truck, the furniture shop owner showed up. The two Amish men carried the cabinet out the door onto the truck bed while Fred held the doors of the cabinet closed. We got the tarp and blanket wrapped around the cabinet, tied everything down, and were on our way home.
I didn’t even flash anyone and bellow “I’VE GOT BOOBIES!!!!” or anything.
On the drive home, Fred told me that he was worried we weren’t going to be able to unload the cabinet ourselves, that it was really, really heavy and then he said something like “I think he made it all out of one-bys!”, which are words I do not understand and is probably code for something important.
Fred suggested many ideas for how we could get the cabinet out of the bed of the truck, and every one of them sounded to me like something that would end in the cabinet in pieces on the garage floor. Ultimately, we stopped at the corner store, and Fred went inside and threw himself on the mercy of the store owners and the old men who hang out in the store.
He came outside a minute later with an older gentleman. I got into the back seat of the truck, and we headed for home. We pulled into the driveway and got out of the truck, and I was starting to worry whether the three of us were really going to be able to unload the cabinet, when a truck pulled into the driveway and two teenage boys stepped out.
Secure that the menfolk had it all in hand, I went inside and started dinner. It took the four of them about a minute and a half to lift the cabinet out of the truck and set it in the garage, and then the three of them refused to take any money from Fred for their help.
This living in a small town thing? It kinda rocks.
So the cabinet is standing in the garage for now. Fred’s proclaimed that we must wait ’til the two week-old baby chicks in the brooder (in the garage) are moved out of there before he starts staining the cabinet so the fumes don’t kill them. It’s going to be a few weeks, at least, ’til the cabinet’s in place in the kitchen, and let me tell you – it’s going to be hard waiting!
The cabinet’s made of poplar – like the stairs – and we’ve talked about staining it the same color as the stairs. We’ve also talked about staining it the same color as the kitchen cabinets (or trying to, anyway). We’ll see – I think it’s going to be gorgeous no matter what color it’s stained!
Okay, yesterday I lied – THESE are the last of the pictures I took of the boys before they went to the pet store.
Jasper got adopted last night! I think our Sleepy will be very happy in his new home.
Such a big baby – he was whining at me because I wasn’t petting him enough.
Previously
2008: I ran after him screaming “NOT IN THE HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUSE!”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Hoverers make me want to just get the hell out of that store as soon as humanly possible.
2004: I think it’s a boy, though.
2003: He’s his usual Fancy self.
2002: “I can’t believe you let me go out in public like this!” I yelled at Fred.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.