I bought this t-shirt when I was in Hawaii a few years ago. I got it home to find that it wouldn’t fit, so I put it away. I rediscovered it last month, and have been wearing it a lot. When I first bought it, it smelled like chocolate (it was dyed with chocolate), but it no longer does. It’s actually about two sizes too big for me now, but that doesn’t stop me from wearing it! I think the shirt is broken, though. No one ever offers me chocolate!
Bad picture, but I think you can tell it’s a mother Robin on her nest, and there are a couple of hungry baby Robin beaks sticking up out of the nest. I don’t know how long this nest has been there, but Fred just noticed it yesterday – it’s in the magnolia tree, and we must have walked beneath it approximately ten thousand times without noticing it.
The mantel in the front room. That’s a picture of the Sacre Coeur my mother bought in Paris and gave us as a Christmas present. On the mantel: egg cats (I’d link to where you can buy them, but Google isn’t giving me anything), and Willow Tree figurines.
The spud got a laptop for graduation from us (a little early), so decided she didn’t really need her desk anymore. Since storage space in our bathroom is close to nonexistent, I took the opportunity to claim her desk to use as a vanity. It sits in a corner of my bedroom. I intended to get a mirror to hang on the wall, but forgot that the chair rail would make that difficult. It works out well for me. (By the way, I had no idea when I purchased that lamp shade that it was so shiny. I’ll be replacing that pretty quickly.)
This is the first thing I hung up, a housewarming present from Nance and Rick soon after we bought this house. I LOVE it. That table Sugarbutt’s sitting on is now sitting next to the side door – we use the side door more often than the front door, now that we’ve moved the recliner so it’s no longer in the way.
I didn’t actually intend to hang three pictures over the mantel in the dining room, but there were three nails there already, and I wanted to hang up the spud’s senior picture, so I dug through the pictures I had and found two others to go there as well. I’m thinking that the spud’s baby picture would go well where that picture of Miz Poo is, and maybe one of her other school pictures where the Tubby picture is. Or maybe I’ll just leave it like it is!
I have no idea what this bird is. He reminds me of a finch, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a blue finch before. Whatever he is, he’s purty. (Edited to add: pretty sure that’s an Indigo Bunting.)
Honeysuckle’s in bloom, and it smells DIVINE.
::grumble::grumble:: “Come ON, Newt, time to follow the freaks around the back forty!”
“Hellew.”
Newt amongst the clover.
We have a lot of cupboard space in the kitchen, but none of it is particularly conducive to being used as a pantry. We bought this pie safe from JC Penney to use as a pantry, and it works perfectly. At least until Fred decides he’s interested in woodworking and can build me something bigger!
What the front porch looks like now.
Newt admires the Gerbera daisies.
Verbena. Maybe next year I’ll go wild and plant more than one kind of flower in each pot!
Side steps. Those are impatients, which prefer shade, according to their little card. I obviously haven’t planted anything in the ground yet – maybe in the next month or so. I have to procrastinate for a while first, y’know.
“Let. Me. OUT!”
Note the new high score. I’m edging Fred off my high score board, slowly but surely!
We’re totally going to become the talk of Smallville.
(More Booger leash pictures 
“Hellew.” (That’s Frick in the front and a Buff in the back. We call the Buff Orpingtons “Buffies”.)
Speckles shows the correct form for performing the Chicken Dance.
Every day’s a lazy day for the Sugs.
Every night, Fred and I take a walk around the back forty. Always, if they’re around, Maxi and Newt accompany us on our walk. They are always very, very serious about accompanying us, as if it’s their job to follow us around the back forty and protect us from rogue squirrels and rabbits. They crack me up, with their serious little faces.
Newton of the Corn.
“Behind you! A serial killer! Or a ray of sun! One or the other!”
Now, don’t get me wrong – I LOVE annuals, but I hate planting them in the ground and having to spend all that time weeding the flowerbeds. I much prefer to have something low-maintenance in the ground and to plant annuals in flowerpots on the front porch. In fact, I’m going to run to Lowe’s later today and buy some more big pots and annuals for the front porch.
Fred bitched about the fact that he spent so much time doing “my” stuff when he’d intended to get started on the fence around the back yard (“his” stuff), but he had to agree that the front looks much better than it did.
Also, Fred got my clothesline up and running (I don’t know if he came up with the idea on his own, or if he read a comment one of you left, but he found a local ironworks place to create two t-poles for us), so I did three loads of laundry and hung them out to dry. Just in time, too, since the dryer died Friday evening.
Nothing like the smell of sun-dried clothes, I’m telling you.
*I swear to god, I thank my waiter or waitress every time they so much as look in my general direction.
Pretty, pretty Newt.
The faux Berber rug we bought for $20, which we put in the kitchen, is no more. Tommy and Sugarbutt kept getting their claws caught in the loops of the rug (there’s a space between the end of the cap and the paw itself when you’re using SoftPaws) and freaking out. I had to cut the rug in three different spots to save Tommy, and finally I was just tired of it. I rolled it up and tossed it out on the back lawn (there might have been a mini temper tantrum involved, with much swearing), and then Fred carried it up to the end of the driveway. It stayed there all night, then the next morning it was gone.
The cool thing about living on a busyish road in the country is that when we want to get rid of something, we don’t have to wait ’til it piles up, then call a charitable organization to come get everything. We just leave it by the side of the road and someone eventually comes along who wants it, and they stop and take it with them. Nothing sits there for longer than a few hours, usually, except for the rug. Though to be fair, Fred did put the rug by the road at night, so it probably wasn’t as easy for passersby to see what it was.
We’ve talked about going back to the flea market this weekend to look for a runner for the upstairs hallway, and maybe we can find something better for the kitchen while we’re there.
That’s MY GARDEN he’s using as his litterbox. Even Maxi was appalled. I am SO not stepping foot in that garden unless I’m wearing a biohazard suit in the future, swear to god.
He didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed, the little bastard.
