Get yer calendars!!!
2009 Crooked Acres Calendar. ~~~~~ 2009 And3rson Kitties Calendar. ~~~ 2009 And3rson Foster Kitties Calendar.
In my comments, the very suspicious Tyra said:
Nobody else is suspicious of that loaded sentence? “We stood around and Fred talked to the owner for quite a while, and we bought a few things before heading home.”
Whatjall buy? I think it was a potbelly, some ducks and Pyrenees.
We did not buy any potbellied pigs, nor any ducks, NOR any dogs. We bought Taste of the Wild cat food because I’m a lemming who jumps on anything new and shiny that I haven’t seen before. We also bought a “Fresh eggs” sign because Fred thinks his hand-lettered sign is cheesy. That’s about it, I think.
It seems like there might have been something else, though… Oh, right.
We might have bought a black Silkie, though. What? We didn’t want to just have ONE Silkie, and we thought that if we bought a black Silkie, we could name the white one Sookie and the black one Tara. (That’s a True Blood reference, for those not in the know.)
Except the black Silkie isn’t really pure black; she’s more black with some reddish-brown accents. It’s pretty hard to get a good picture of her, because she’s a bit skittish around us. I suspect that when she realizes we’re the source of food, she’ll get over that right quick.
So, yeah. New chicken. Same ol’ same ol’.
Okay, I need to get cleaning so I can flop down on the couch and watch some TV without feeling guilty or worrying about the cleaning that needs to be done. So here are some pictures from around Crooked Acres to tide you over.
The little chickens are trying to figure out their places in the pecking order. Note here that the speckled chicken is pulling an impressive maneuver we like to call “umbrella neck.”
This rooster likes to follow me around. He lurks and peers at me from behind the corner of the coop and then he acts all super-casual like “Me? Following you? Nope, not me!”
Little rooster, keeping an eye on me.
Lurking and peering. I think he might have a crush on me.
This picture’s from a while ago – I think I took it about six weeks ago.
This picture’s from yesterday. I can’t believe how fast the pigs grew between the two pictures. (Note please that my stalker rooster is RIGHT THERE, as usual.)
Little Pig (only “little” in comparison to Big Pig) checks to see if I might have some food for her.
“HEY! You has food?”
“Food?”
“Food?” (These last three pictures are from about a month ago.)
“FINE, I’ll just eat grass.”
As we use our eggs, I rinse the egg shells off and keep them in a bowl until the bowl is full. Then I run them through the food processor and give them to the chickens. Eating egg shells ensures that the chickens will lay eggs with nice thick shells instead of the thin-shelled eggs you get from the grocery store.
(Yes, I cleaned the poo off that shell in the left of the food processor.)
I supplement the ground egg shells with oyster shell, because we use a lot of eggs, but we also have a lot of chickens, and the shells we have aren’t enough to keep them in calcium every day. The bag of ground oyster shell is sitting in the wood shed for some reason, and it’s gotten kinda messy in there. The wood doesn’t care, though. It’s not picky.
“IT IS THE LADY AND SHE HAS SOMETHING IN HER HANDS I THINK IT IS FOOD O HAPPY DAY!”
I put the oyster shell/ egg shells in this little feeder, though you can just sprinkle it on the ground.
Charlie (the white chicken to the left, with the twisted-up toes) thought it might be a good idea to try to perch on the side of the feeder. She knocked the feeder over, and the egg shells/ oyster shells went everywhere. Goddamn Charlie. Chickens are not known for their intelligenc. They’re not known for their pickiness either, luckily. They’re just as happy to eat the egg shell off the ground as from a feeder.
Tommy is so rude. He goes into the kitten room, eats some of their food, digs through their toys, plays with some of their toys if he’s inclined to, and when they come over with the big hopeful eyes, wanting him to play with them, he gives them a dismissive look and ignores them as he ambles out of the room. Brat.
More pics over at L&H.
Tommy jumped on Joe Bob and bit his neck as soon as I snapped this picture. I don’t know what it is about Joe Bob that brings out Tommy’s aggressive asshole side but I’M NOT LIKING THE BEHAVIOR.
Previously
2007: Amazing how that works.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Just call me Grinchypoo.
2003: Survivor.
2002: If you think you can have too many smiley-face stickers, you are sadly mistaken.
2001: The phrase “anthrax in my pants” is FUCKING FUNNY when it’s spoken by a sixty-three year old woman.
2000: No entry.