see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Thanks, you guys, who commented and emailed to let me know that my picture of The Seven had been used over at I Can Haz Cheezburger. I happened to see it at ICHC right before I went to bed last night, so I emailed them, and should receive credit for having taken the picture at some point.
That picture is one of my favorites, and it was kind of nice to see it surface, a year and a half later. It was featured over at Cute Overload last May, too, which I think means… well, I’m not sure what it means. I’m very special, I guess!
I have nothing brilliant to say here, because I was up ’til 1 am reading Backseat Saints. I could NOT put the damn book down, and the only reason I didn’t finish it is because I literally fell asleep with it propped up on my chest around 1. I woke up at 3 to put the book down and turn the light off, but then I got up at 5:30, which means I am SLEEPY and no good at coming up with anything interesting to say. So let’s get to the Crooked Acres pictures, shall we?
Sights from around Crooked Acres
Mama Silkie and one of her babies.
Cabbage! Once they’re a bit bigger, I’ll plant them in the garden. I think I planted late this year (so what’s new??), and we may not actually get any cabbage, but it’s certainly worth a try. I’m also going to plant carrots in one of the raised beds and radishes, too. We’ll see how that goes.
One day I’m going to sneak out with the spray can and paint “Oink oink” on either side of the “Pork Chop Express” and we’ll see how long it takes Fred to notice.
Not even half the chickens we have.
Happy Gracie.
The Rock Star. I think she’s our prettiest chicken. Some of her head feathers have gone white, and I’m not sure why.
Mama Silkie and her babies, out exploring.
Mama Silkie, having a tizzy about something while everyone ignores her. She’s a drama queen.
This Mama and her babies were way over on the other side of the back forty, then she caught sight of Fred by the coop and decided that that meant he was going to toss out scratch, so she started hauling ass in his direction, and her babies came right along with her.
The co-mothers.
Bee on the Azalea bush in the front.
From the swing on the front porch. Looks like rain.
I don’t know what this thing is, but I say he’s overdone it on the mousse.
Miss Gracie, again.
Inside the maternity coop.
Things I have recently made:
The fabric that came with the Ham-mick I got last Fall (or perhaps it was earlier this Spring?) is starting to get kind of ratty looking because certain kittens (ahem, Reacher) like to knead on the fabric for seventy-two hours before they get in and lay down. They use their claws, and the fabric gets pulls in it, and Fred doesn’t care for the patterned fabric anyway. I thought about buying some new ones from the lady I bought the Ham-micks from, but I have a TON of material and a rarely-used sewing machine, so I thought that I’d see if I couldn’t use the fabric that came with the Ham-mick to make a pattern to follow and make one myself. Well, I made a pattern, and it actually worked out pretty well. But you’ll please note that I’m not showing you the damn thing in DETAIL or anything, because I can’t sew a straight line to save my life. Who do I have to impress, though? Reacher likes it, and when Reacher’s not in the process of liking it, Sugarbutt also likes it. It’s almost always occupado, which says “two thumbs up” as far as I’m concerned!
Blackberry-habanero jam. (Don’t get excited, I’m not taking orders ’til around October 1st. I want to have a decent stockpile before I start selling. And I need to stock up on flat-rate boxes from the post office, too!)
Strawberry-habanero jam. This stuff’s not jelling, so I need to reprocess it, damnit.
I didn’t actually make this, but I – uh – coordinated it. We were at the shelter a few months ago, and there was a cedar scratching post in the big cat room. I started looking at it and said to Fred, “We could make something like that, couldn’t we?” A few weeks later, we went to Lowe’s and found this cedar post, which is not nearly as nice as the post in the cat room at the shelter, but it was cedar and I thought it would work. Last weekend, I harangued Fred into getting something done with it, so he cut the post down, made a base for it, and screwed it in. I stapled some yarn toys to the top and sprinkled catnip on it, and the cats are liking it quite a bit. Especially Reacher! It’s not particularly gorgeous, but I like it. I’m going to sand and paint the base, and probably sand the post itself a little.
I think next week I’m going to start doing the room-by-room tour of the house that one of you suggested way back when I started this Crooked Acres Thursday thing. I really want to do a room-by-room Fall cleaning of the house (when was the last time I washed the walls in the downstairs bathroom? How about never? And every damn time I go in there, I look up at the walls and I shudder and think about how the whole damn house needs to be scrubbed from ceiling to floor and wall to wall.) and taking pictures of the house, room by room, is a good incentive for doing some hardcore cleaning.
I maybe don’t say this often enough, but if there’s something y’all are dying to see pictures of around here, feel free to let me know.
What I really want to get a picture of is the tiny patch of white fur Dodger has at the base of his ear. When I got him, there was a bare spot there. I realized one day last week, as I was petting him, that the fur there has grown in white. It’s very neat.
I love what a non-issue it was to integrate the Bookworms and the MMMs. I was afraid, given Bolitar’s drama queen ways, that Reacher and Corbett might be hissy and smacky, but they act like they’ve known the little ones forever.
So many toys, so little time.
Can you tell where Corbett’s favorite place in the foster room is? No? It’s a mystery!
Corbett, in the back yard. When we bought this house, there was a cedar tree there. It wasn’t in great shape, so Fred cut it down, leaving a bit of a stump behind. Corbett has claimed it as his own.
From mostly feral to being held like a baby in, what, three months? Coltrane has turned out to be a lover.
Previously
2009: (Thank god – being unable to understand someone with a thick accent always makes me feel incredibly stupid.)
2008: I’m certainly enjoying all the naked male behinds that pop across the screen pretty regularly, too.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Just call us the three bears.
2004: small things that will remind me of my grandmother.
2003: Man, this whole running-a-business thing is strictly FOR THE FUCKING BIRDS.
2002: Fred (as if narrating a book): “She was a bitter-butted woman….”
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.