You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. Last day to get your name and address to me! (And yes, of course I’m happy to send cards to other countries!) Send your name and mailing address to hollydays@gmail.com .
I’ll take names and addresses until midnight.
If you’d like to send me a card as well (never ever required, but always appreciated – I don’t keep track of who does and doesn’t send a card, I promise!), send it to: Robyn Anderson, PO Box 461, Athens, AL 35612 USA.
Recently, Fred discovered Fiverr.com, a site where you can pay $5 to have someone do just about anything (within reason). What he did, of course, was immediately commission a picture of one cat, and then from another artist altogether, he commissioned another.
Both artists did a pretty good job, but I think I kind of prefer the one that did Sugarbutt.
Randomness
Elaine sent me this link last week, and I’ve been meaning to share it ever since. Now THAT is a cat who enjoys yoga!
Anita sent me this one last week, and I found it really interesting. I usually have a hard time sitting and watching any videos longer than 90 seconds, but I watched every moment of this, and thought it was thought-provoking and well done.
Lately, Fred has about every other Friday off from work. He gets out of bed around 3:30 every morning (he’s a freak) and tends to get to work by 5, so he racks up plenty of extra time during the week so that he can either leave early on Friday or stay all day one Friday and take the next Friday off.
So he had last Friday off, and first he shocked me by coming upstairs when I was getting dressed after my shower to ask if I wanted to go out to breakfast. Not ONLY did we go out to breakfast, we went out to Cracker Barrel, which Fred is usually no fan of. After breakfast, we went to Publix to pick up milk, which is COMBINING ERRANDS (not that breakfast out is an errand, but you know what I mean), which Fred also really really hates to do.
AND. THEN.
Saturday morning we LEFT THE HOUSE – his suggestion!!! – and went to Books-A-Million, where we browsed for a very long time in the bargain book section and left with 13 books between us for the bargain price of $65.
I don’t know what’s going on, but to voluntarily leave the house – AT HIS SUGGESTION – twice in one weekend like that? UNHEARD OF.
Maybe it was an early birthday present?
In former foster news, the shelter manager told me that she saw the people who adopted Rufus last week. He’s doing well, is best friends with their dog, and he and the dog play and share toys. Awww.
This was Rufus, in case you don’t remember – he showed up in our yard suddenly one day earlier this year, and I was so worried that he was a pregnant female (he had a big round belly) that I insisted Fred go out and trap him:
And in other former foster news, the people who adopted Ciara and Coriander together this summer stopped by Petsmart, and I heard that they just love those girls to death, and the girls get along great with their Lab.
Ciara and Coriander when they were here with us.
I’m always glad to hear about my former fosters going to homes with dogs, and adjusting well. Since they’re not exposed to dogs around here, it’s something I worry about, but given how many well-adjusted stories I’m hearing, I’m going to stop worrying!
Patty and Charlie are doing well – they still don’t quite understand why they’re not allowed in the foster room any more, but last night they stood in the hallway outside the room and hissed under the door at the Sons, so I’m not in any hurry to let them in to visit!
This shows the amazing green of Patty’s eyes.
Charlie, getting ready to complain.
Patty, showing off her claws.
I think I forgot to mention that on Saturday, I opened the closet off the foster room, and moved the litter boxes in there so that the boys would have more room to run around. They seem to like it quite a bit – when I’m downstairs, I can hear them thundering around from the room to the closet and back again.
Opie and Jax.
Clay and Tig.
I don’t know what’s going on over there, but it’s certainly got Opie’s attention.
Pretty boy Jax.
You know you wanna rub Opie’s belly (whether or not he’ll let you is another matter altogether).
Mister Innocent.
Thus far, I can tell you that Clay is the kitten most likely to climb into your lap – and then sink his claws into your thigh when you’re least expecting it (on the list for all the Sons: claw trimming!). Opie’s the kitten most likely to bite your big toe. Jax is the kitten most likely to sit just out of your reach, look up at you with his big, big eyes, and squeak sadly as though you’re breaking his heart. Tig is the most skittish one who runs and hides if you make any sudden movements – and will protest if you pick him up and hold him like a baby. But he only protests for a few seconds before he decides that, hey. This isn’t so bad!
Spanky snoozing.
“LADY, I AM TRYING TO NAP. STOP TAKING PICTURES OF ME!”
Previously
2010: “Hmm,” I said, attempting to look like I was truly considering his words of wisdom.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: (Also, I loves me some environment and cares tons about the world I leave behind for my child and grandchildren blah blah blah.)
2006: I wonder how often dental patients go into a screaming rage and get violent with dental hygienists, because I certainly feel the impulse every time I have my teeth cleaned.
2005: Also, if Hollabackness is a desired state of being, how do I go about achieving it?
2004: Apparently she’s a princess now.
2003: Three things.
2002: My shit list.
2001: Emailing gets me all excited.
2000: I sure whine about the weather a lot, don’t I?
1999: Disaster averted!