There’s not a whole lot going on around here, and it’s supposed to be a beautiful day outside. I’m going to do laundry, clean the house, and walk around outside and marvel at the sunshine. Here are some Crooked Acres pics to tide you over!
This is how we’re growing potatoes this year (well, we have a row of them in the garden, but we’re also doing this). As the potato plants grow, you add boards to the side, and put soil on top of the potato plants. In the Fall, you take down the boards and hopefully dig through the soil to find a bazillion potatoes. Similar to growing potatoes in a tire, only with boards instead of a tire!
The co-parents, keeping an eye on their three babies.
New Momma.
Chicken George and her baby.
Michelle, the head rooster in charge.
Michelle surveying his wimminfolk.
One of the little Brahmas (we think) that we got from the hatchery a few months ago. I’m looking forward to seeing what they look like when they’re grown – I think they’re going to be very pretty.
Another little pretty one. I think we hatched this one ourselves, but honest to god, at this point I’m not sure.
Sassy, the one true Crooked Acres free range chicken, partakes of the compost heap.
Mommas and babies – and right in the middle, Charlie.
We got a Crested Polish chick from the hatchery a few months ago. He’s looking very Flock of Seagulls lately.
“Who, us? Eating the pig food from the trough? No, not at all! Why would you ask such a strange question?”
Checking the area in case of snacks.
George, eating dog hair and then spitting it out. I don’t know, he seemed happy and he wasn’t swallowing the hair so we didn’t ask questions.
Gracie, dancing with Fred. You can’t see George’s face, but trust me – he disapproves.
Gracie loves her daddy.
“Oooh, it’s the snack lady! I like the snack lady. She gives me snacks.”
I recently made up a song about the Mommas (Upstairs Momma, aka Kara and Outside Momma, aka Maxi) that goes “Porkin’ along, singin’ her song, it’s Out! Side! Momma!” OR “Hissin’ along, singin’ her song, it’s Up! Stairs! Momma!” and it cracks me up every time I sing it, and when I snicker, Fred tells me I need to get a life. Hmph.
Previously
2008: With my bionic legs and arms I’ll just be able to prove it much more easily.
2007: No entry.
2006: And we might have expected Mommy/ Whatever to tell the Little Prince “no” and, well, we can’t have THAT.
2005: We’re foster parents.
2004: Because WHY HAD IT NOT OCCURRED TO ME TO THROW MYSELF DOWN THE MOUNTAIN TO AVOID THE CONCERT???
2003: The words “ass ugly” were invented to describe these shoes.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: She hasn’t claimed boredom since.