Category: Crooked Acres

Attention, Floridians in the Pasco area (or within an hour’s drive), I got this email (and pictures) from Jupe :

My mom has been doing feral cat feeding and TNR in Pasco, FL for years. As you know, this type of work leads to you adopting a lot of cats yourself. Last August, she rescued a group of 11 (2 nursing moms and 9 kittens) that were dumped behind a restaurant. She was able to adopt some out through the Humane Society (after having them fixed and shotted). After putting numerous ads in the paper, she was left with 4 kittens in the house and the two moms as free range cats. This brings her inside cat total to 20.

My mom is very attached but aware that 20 is too many, especially after her surgery. The other two kittens (girls, black Spooky and tabby Suzy) are also good cats, not as friendly but will come to you on their own and enjoy attention. They are all fixed, have had baby shots, combo tested and dewormed. If you could post anything for people interested in adopting in the Pasco area of Florida, I would appreciate it. I would be willing to drive an hour each way from Pasco if someone was interested in adopting. These are seriously sweet cats otherwise I would not even ask!

Note: all the kittens are about five months old. Spanky & Spanky are from different litters, but they sure do look like twins!

Spanky & Spanky.

Suzy.

Spooky.

If you’re interested in adopting any of these sweet cats or might know someone who is, or have questions about them, you can contact Jupe at jupe (AT) tampabay.rr.com, or email me and I’ll pass your email along.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Fred split a leftover piece of (homemade) pizza between George and Gracie. Gracie took hers and ran off. George did this.

When he’s offered a food he’s never had before, he takes it, then immediately drops it on the ground so he can sniff it and determine whether he wants to eat it (he always wants to eat it – he just needs to sniff it first!) He eventually picked it up and ran off with it.

It never occurred to me that the pond would become a water source for the dogs. But apparently it’s rather tasty.

I actually took this picture and the next few from my desk. George and Gracie like to hang out on Dirt Mountain.

They like to run around like nuts, too.

Gracie keeps an eye on things while sitting on the ramp to the coop, while George tries to figure out who knocked over the feeder (my guess: probably George).

I don’t remember what this rueful look was about.

Pretty Gracie.

I think it had just rained, and the chickens were on Dirt Mountain checking for bugs, while Gracie sat guard at the bottom of the mountain.

Angry Muppet looks like a big ol’ cotton ball with a beak, doesn’t she?

Rooster, keeping an eye on his hens.

I’m sensing a distinct flirty vibe from Mister Rooster.

::flippity flap::

::flappity flip::

::FLAP::FLAP::FLAP::

Checking to see if I’m impressed.

I’m not sure what these little birds are, but they’re awfully pretty.

And now, a few short Crooked Acres videos for you!

The first, three hens taking a dust bath. Hens (well, roosters do it too, actually) do this to keep clean (I didn’t manage to get the bit at the end where they all three stood up and shook all the dust from their feathers, unfortunately).

And in the second, a few months ago I bought a game cam. We put it on the front porch to see what was eating the cat food we put out there, and we found out (we were also not surprised).

I’ve put the camera away for now, but plan to get it back out in the Spring. A few years ago we caught footage of some raccoons showing up on the front porch, I’d like to see if they’re still coming around.

Because I suck, I only have two Sons pictures for you. I need to get some pictures of them, but it’s been gloomy and rainy for the past several days, which makes it hard to get good pictures of them.

Opie, doing his Tubby impression.

I do have a couple of short videos, though, of Charlie Peppers. In the first one, he was hanging out in the kitchen trying to let me know that he was DYING OF STARVATION.

And in the second, it was snack time, and all the cats were in the kitchen. Charlie was doing his best to hurry me along. I particularly like the part at the end where Alice tries to show Jake who the boss is, and Jake comes back at her like “I DON’T BELIEVE THAT’S THE WAY IT IS, MY DEAR” and she backs right off.

Speaking of Charlie and Patty, the news from Lisa Tuesday night was that they were out of the litter box, and Charlie was more relaxed about it than Patty. But, hey – at least they’re out!

Joe Bob, catnip banana fiend.

Previously
2011: The Bradys.
2010: I live to serve, is what I’m saying.
2009: My mother and Nance are all about feeding the addiction, obviously.
2008: No entry.
2007: I don’t know what it is about Lowe’s that makes me so gassy.
2006: Right now, Fred’s thanking his lucky stars that I don’t have this much Christmas stuff, because it would drive him NUTS.
2005: (YES, GODDAMNIT! I HAVE CONFIRMED THAT YOU CAN, IN FACT, BEGIN WRITING THE FUCKING CHECK BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY HEAR WHAT THE TOTAL IS, YOU IN-MY-WAY MOTHERFUCKER!)
2004: I need to go crack open a beer, watch the game, scratch my balls, and think about what this means.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: “Yeah, so you‘ll be the one with the big head blocking everyone else’s view.”
2000: No, I’m not on any drugs, why do you ask?

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

I finally got a shot of one of the Chickadees. They’re so hard to get a picture of, because they’re always flitting, flitting, flitting.

Female Cardinal and a little brown bird. Those seed cakes are very popular with the birds right now.

Getting some birdy attitude. Birdy-tude.

Another female Cardinal. This is the first time I’ve ever noticed the orangey-red “eyebrows.” How cool!

I swear it looks like that squirrel is using the feeder as a periscope.

No squirrel tongue for you this time around, but not for lack of trying on my part!

Lovin’ the bird seed.

Duck action in the back forty.
Or, A tale of four duckies.
Or, Why does Fred never listen to me?

So, the ducks.

“C’mon, Mildred, move over.”
“There’s not enough room!”

“There’s always enough room.”
::sigh::

So, we attempted to herd them out to the pond, and they were so not having it that when I stopped paying attention for a moment on the way out to the pond, they zigged instead of zagged, and went running up Dirt Hill to avoid going all the way out to the dreaded pond.

“Ha ha! No pond for us!”

We had to round them up and get them out to the pond again. This time I was paying attention the whole way.

“We’ll swim in the pond. But we won’t like it!”

We’d brought a baggie of Cheerios out with us, and in an attempt to convince them that the pond was a cool place to hang out, we tossed Cheerios on the water. A couple of the ducks tried the Cheerios, but weren’t impressed. They swam back and forth, looking for a way out, and as soon as we backed off, out they ran.

And they rinsed off in their pool to get that nasty pond water off of them. Ingrates.

(No flying this time.)

So then I made a suggestion I’d made at least 100 times before.

“Let’s take a scoop of chicken scratch out to the pond with us,” I said. “And toss it on the water and see if they’ll stay in the water for that.”

And like he’d said 100 times before, Fred said “But it’s heavy and it’ll sink and they won’t get to it before it sinks to the bottom of the pond.”

I countered with “Let’s TRY IT.” I went and got a scoop of chicken scratch (which is comprised of cracked corn, among other things, and is the best thing on earth to the chickens and especially to the ducks), and we herded them back out to the pond.

And lo and behold, when I tossed scratch onto the water, the ducks were THRILLED. Yes, scratch does not float. But guess what ducks like to do?

They like to stick their heads under the water and get the food that is sinking to the bottom of the pond. Because they’re water birds, and they LIKE water, especially when there’s food involved.

This time when we backed off, they stayed in the water for a while, and then they came out and stood around the pond and then they WENT BACK IN for a brief period of time. Eventually they headed back to home base, but they weren’t frantic about it.

So to summarize: I was right and Fred never listens to me, even though I am ALWAYS right. The end.

This is my least favorite part of fostering, right now. Charlie and Patty are under the impression that they ARE home, but come Friday morning I’m going to bundle them up and take them to Petsmart, and they’ll be all “Wha?” So I’ve been picking them up and kissing and hugging them a lot – maybe come Friday they’ll be all “Thank god that lady isn’t here. That kissing and hugging was getting on my NERVES.”

I do hope they go to a home together, but I think that even if they don’t, as long as there are other cats there, they’ll be okay.

(But of course I love it when siblings get to stay together.)

I will, of course, keep you all informed as to their adoption status!

Would you believe that when we first got Charlie, Fred thought he was “boring”? He’s not as captivated by the smaller kittens as I am. He prefers them when they’re older, I think they really capture his heart when they’re five or six months old.

These days, Fred can wax poetic about how awesome Charlie is. We love Charlie’s silly overbite and fangy ways.

Miss Patty is awesome in a less demanding, less “OH MY GOD I AM STARVING” way than her brother. She loves the big cats, especially Jake and Elwood.

And she is one sweet girl.

(Pretty, too.)

In response to a comment from yesterday, the Sons will start their foray into the world of Gen Pop this weekend. First they’ll get the run of the upstairs (the bathroom and my room in addition to their own room) for a few days, and assuming that that goes well, we’ll let them have short periods of access to the rest of the house, and eventually they’ll have all-day access. I think it’ll probably go well, and most likely by this time next week they’ll have daytime access to the rest of the house, and at night they’ll go back into their room.

“Hey! Stop taking pictures! Get over here and snuggle with me!”

I love when they lay in the sun and you can see their very faint stripes.

Pretty boy Jax.

Pretty boy Clay. Clay and Jax are the friendliest of the four, though Opie’s not far behind. Tig was slow to come around, but now even he will climb into my lap as soon as I sit down.

Jax with droplets of water on his chin.

Clay, going after Jax’s tail.

Smilin’ Joe.

They sure do love that scratcher.

“MY scratcher! Y’all stay away!”

Previously
2011: Marcia said ::FLOOF::
2010: Eviction notice.
2009: Meet George and Gracie.
2008: No entry.
2007: Oh look! It’s been two years since the last time we adopted a dog.
2006: Home again, home again.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: How we met.
2000: And that’s all I have to say ’bout that.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Panoramic shot of the chickens.

Every weekend, we give the chickens whatever sweets we have left laying around. Last weekend was a cherry pie.

They were fans of the cherry pie, to say the least.

It was gone in about 30 seconds flat.

We also gave them some left over pizza. The smart ones grabbed a hunk of crust and ran off away from the others so they could eat in peace.

Head Rooster enjoys him some pizza, too.

The Rock Star.

Y’all know I think this chicken is SO pretty.

Zombie Chicken, on the run with her piece of the pizza.

Time to herd the ducks out to the pond for their weekly visit!

(I know it looks like that duck is eating the mud. He’s not – Fred had tossed a handful of scratch his way.)

Please note the look Mister Duck is giving Miz Duck in this picture.

There were pictures between the last picture and this one, but I deleted them because no one needs to see duck sex. You’re welcome.

Girl Duck on the right is all ::flapflapflap:: “Better you than me, sister!” and Man Duck back there is all “You’re next, missy!”

We got ’em out to the pond, and they went in the water like they were doing us a favor.

We made them stay in for about five minutes.

“We’re IN the water, but we’re NOT enjoying it!”

Then they spotted freedom and went for it.

Ingrates.

I got this really neat little cat from Jai the other day.

Charlie thought it was neat, too.

I got kind of excited because it totally looked to me like it might be made out of cat hair.

Jai said probably not (it came from a craft fair), so Charlie turned his attentions to the star that came with the cat, and tried to eat it. (I took it away from him and hung it on the tree.)

In the same visit to the post office, I got a pair of socks from Kathy.

And a Chilean terracotta three-legged pig! (It’s a token of good fortune. I feel more fortunate already!)

Thanks again, Jai and Kathy!

Panoramic of the boys – left to right: Opie, Tig, Clay, Jax.

Eyes on the feather teaser (I love how they reach for it, even when it’s nowhere near them.)

Tig and Jax.

Such serious little faces.

Opie must have some serious abs. I know I could never lick the bottom of my foot without using my arm to hold my leg in place!

That must be one dirty foot.

Jax, possessor of the only tail in the kitten room, has three little tuxies playing with his tail a LOT. They thing it’s a pretty fabulous toy.

Well, Joseph Robert, that’s a bit of a pickle you find yourself in, isn’t it?

This is what happens when you slip out of your collar and climb over the fence.

I should just leave you out there to teach you a lesson, is what I should do.

Previously
2010: I haz a snuggle.
2009: Mike & Gus: Brudderly…. love?
2008: It was kind of a cooking-themed weekend for me.
2007: I expected to read “And after we had fabulous chocolate crepes for dessert, we moved on to Bob’s house for the key party to end the night on a high note.”
2006: It burns, Jane! The applique, IT BURRRRRRRRNS!
2005: I’m a creature of habit, what can I say?
2004: No shit, Matt. Ya think? Ya think she might like to eat?
2003: “You are NOT allowed in Maine!” I informed him.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Except for world peace and all that. Yadda, yadda.
1999: No entry.

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (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 December 20th.

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.

On one of the cards I got when I went to the post office yesterday, Yunlin asked a question that maybe not everyone who reads here knows the answer to: why do we call it Crooked Acres?

It’s a pretty simple answer, actually. This house is 81 years old, and over time, the house has settled, and everything isn’t as square as it was when it was built. It was while we were renovating the house (we spent seven months renovating the house before we moved in, and wasn’t THAT a lot of fun!) that I realized just how crooked some areas of the house are, and I said in frustration “God, everything in this house is crooked. Even the property line isn’t straight. Everything is crooked!”

A minute later, I said “Crooked Acres! That’s what I’m calling this place!”, and it’s stuck ever since.

(If you’re interested, you can see a room by room comparison of the house, before and after, here. The majority of the renovation consisted of painting, putting up molding around the ceilings, and having the floors done.)

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

We haven’t decorated for Christmas in three or four years – at least, not in the house, I decorated the front porch a couple of years ago – but I really love Christmas lights, and so this year I bought a small tree to hang on the wall! I need to do something about hiding the cords, and the tree is shaped oddly (needs to be floofed, I think), but walking down the hallway and seeing the reflection of the tree lights in the picture hanging near the front door makes me happy.

Catie made a set of these, and I love them.

I was stumped for a tree topper, didn’t like any of the ones in the store, and then I was looking through my ornaments and found this. Cat angel – please, is there anything more perfect for us?

This is my hands-down favorite ornament of all. I think I bought about 10 of them, several years ago.

Santa-hat bumblebee.

Another fisherman-with-lobster ornament.

Made by a reader. Aren’t they adorable?

That’s right, a nativity in my house, and lightning did not strike me dead!

I love this floppy-legged cow. I’m actually not quite sure why it’s considered a Christmas decoration, except that I bought it at Christmas time, and it’s wearing a bright red sweater, so there you go.

I know these are cheesy, but I just love to turn them on at bedtime and lay and watch the lights change. Don’t judge me.

Cardinal with a mouth full of seeds.

Tufted Titmouse.

Tufted Titmouse and… Sparrow, maybe?

Sparrows, perhaps.

Woodpecker.

Angry Muppet is annoyed. You’d know that if you could see her face.

The rooster with, as someone so aptly termed it yesterday, the feather leggings. We have other feather-legged chickens, but this guy’s legs are especially feathered.

The head rooster, on his way to do something important, apparently.

Chickens love pasta.

Featherhead.

Head rooster, keeping an eye on Angry Muppet.

Chickens are good for taking care of the leftover junk food.

Panoramic shot of the chickens.

Zombie hen is purty (as Mary Ellen pointed out, Zombie hen wants graaaaaaaains. Graaaaaains.)

According to Fred, this is a kestrel. Whatever it is, he was eyeballing the chickens. Edited to add: apparently it’s a Red-tailed Hawk (thanks, Nevermind!)

(It wasn’t as low as it looks in this picture. I had the long lens aimed at it.)

No chickens for you, Mister Kestrel Red-tailed Hawk!

We put straw in and around the cat house in the back yard. The cats weren’t sure what they thought about it at first, but if you look closely, you’ll see Tom Cullen’s green eyes peering out from the back of the cat house.

OldCat has an interesting post up about tails, go check it out here.

Finally, a shot of all four of them! That’s Clay in the front, and of course y’all know the gorgeous Jax. Next to Jax is Opie, and in the scratcher is Tig.

I don’t know what’s going on over there, but Opie clearly finds it interesting.

Tig gives us his smoldering look.

The gorgeous Jax with water on his chin.

Opie (front) and Tig (glaring in the background).

His eyes have mostly changed, but I love that you can still see just a bit of blue around the edges.

Joe Bob is a shoe hoarder, obviously.

“What? I’ve got four feet. I need a lot of shoes!”

Previously
2010: “My nose is dirty and I DON’T LIKE IT.”
2008: It’s not been a good time to be a finger on the hand of Robyn And3rson lately.
2007: When one has to peck the ground for bugs and worms, one gets mud on one’s beak.
2006: So that’s the story of my search for the perfect bra, and how I found it.
2005: I probably have a brain tumor.
2004: I swear, my Grinchly heart grew three sizes right then and there.
2003: A tree with glass ornaments? In a house with five cats?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I told Fred we should hire her out to the local police agencies and she could tell them when someone looks like a “drug person.”
1999: Fred and I came to an agreement last night. The end of March, I’m going off the birth control, and we’re going to start trying to get pregnant. (HahahahahahaHAHA! My, how times have changed!)

You know you want a Crooked Acres holiday postcard. YOU KNOW YOU DO. You better hurry up! (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 December 20th.

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.

Remember Lily, the kitten I mentioned a few weeks ago who had been found, injured, and it was found that she’d been shot? Her owners needed to raise money to pay the vet bill, and a lot of people stepped up and helped.

Well, go read about how Lily is doing now (it’s good news!) and watch the short video of her. She’s doing well, and I think she knows just how lucky she was to be found by her new Mom and Dad.

Today, I share duck pictures with you. I got a series of really good pictures, and I was going to share them on Thursday along with other Crooked Acres pictures, but I have a ton of those to share for tomorrow, so today I give you ducks!

We start with the ducks, standing around looking confused (this is their natural state).

Then they decide to go for a swim.

One goes in…

Then another…

Then a girl duck.

“Sorry, number 4, no room in the pool for you!”

Number 4 takes refuge in a water bowl.

Splishity-splash.

Splashity-splish.

“Ahem.”

::flapflapflapflap::

::foldfoldfoldfold::

::splashsplashsplashsplash::

::FLOOP::

::FLEWP::

“I’M FLYING! IIIIIIIIIIIIIII’M FLYYYYYYYYYING!”
“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIIIIIIVES!”

“I’M FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYING!”

::skid::

“What was THAT?”
“Dude, did you see me? I was flying!”

“I was like, I’m flying! I’m flying! and you were like Run for your lives! He’ll kill us all!”
“NO, you were like I’m a great big dork and I’m flying! and I was like Run! RUN!”

“Now, how the heck did I do that, again….?”

Patty Peppers keeps an eye on things.

Someone has to!

I love her stripes.

All four of the Sons are actually in this picture. You just can’t see Jax because he’s way in the background, by the blue cat tree.

This is the best room in the house for kittens. The sun comes through those windows in the afternoon, and it warms up nicely.

Clay would like you to know that that purple and blue teaser is HIS.

Under the scratcher is Opie’s favorite place to hide (and hang out). That makes it easier to catch him when I need to (shhh, don’t tell him!)

Another tailless behind. So CUTE.

Stinkerbelle, hanging out in the guest bedroom.

She sure is a pretty girl.

Previously
2010: Fucking jesus christ almighty fucking fucking FUCK.
2009: WTF with these people and the “keep going”?!
2008: No entry.
2007: Well, I don’t “always” say it. In fact, that would be the first time I’ve ever said it. But I’ll say it more in the future!
2006: “MY BABY IS IN PAIN, MAKE IT STOP!”
2005: I’m impressed with myself, if you couldn’t tell.
2004: It is in the 20s here today, IS IT OKAY FOR ME TO BE COLD NOW?
2003: (”Thanks, me! I’m so thoughtful!”)
2002: No entry.
2001: Trust me, it was far more horrifying-looking in person.
2000: Babbling.
1999: No entry.

Attention, those of you in the Phoenix/ Scottsdale, AZ area residents, two cats who were abandoned by their owners desperately need a safe home, whether it be a temporary foster, or a loving forever home.

Please help if you can – and please spread the word!

What? You think you’re too good to get a holiday postcard from me, is that what you think, huh huh huh? This is the thing I do every year to get in the holiday spirit, and it is so NOT a bother! Get yer postcard here! (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 December 20th.

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.

Enter to win a copy of this adorable book, here! You can enter ’til 3 pm Sunday. I’ve got two copies to give away, so your chances are good! Again, go here to enter.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Squirrel outside my window. Whatcha doin’, Mister Squirrel?

“Oh, nothing.”

“Just gonna climb down this branch…”

“And get me…”

“A little snack!”

“Which I will sit right here in front of your window and nom! Ha ha!”

I sent this picture to Fred and said “Look, a hawk eyeballing the chickens!”

Fred said “I’m pretty sure that’s a turkey buzzard, not a hawk.”

I said, “Look, a turkey buzzard eyeballing the chickens!” He said “I see that.”

(The dogs eventually roused themselves from their slumber and chased said turkey buzzard off to greener pastures.)

Playing with my long lens (it’s a 4.5-5.6/ 75-300. I don’t know what those numbers mean, but I do know that I can be a long, long way from whatever I’m taking a picture of and have it come out looking like I was RIGHT THERE with amazing detail.). This is a rooster.

This is the other rooster.

This is the Rock Star (she’s a Golden Polish). I’ve probably never told you that I think she’s the prettiest chicken we have, have I?

So so pretty.

She needs a haircut, though. We trim her head feathers away from her eyes so she can see better.

She doesn’t like it when we mess with her ‘do, though.

She prefers to stay fabulous.

Angry Muppet (white Silkie) is angry.

We chased the ducks out to the pond again last weekend. When we finally got them out there, they got into the water…

…paddled around…

…paddled around some more…

…drank a little water…

… said “Hey, that was yummy!”…

…said “Okay, we swam. Can we go HOME now?!”

And out they ran.

One of the males gave an indignant flap of his wings.

And back home they waddled.

“OH LOOK, WATER! WE WERE SO THIRSTY!”

But of course, words do not do the waddle justice. You’ve got to see it for yourself (sorry about the part halfway through when I start giggling and the camera shakes all over the place. But you’ll see why I giggled. They’re so funny when they waddle!).

On another topic, those of you who were horrified by these bugs I posted last week:

In case you missed it in the comments, those are ladybug larvae. I saw them again this week, and they’re clearly in the process of changing. This is to give you a better idea of their size.

They just looked so big last week because I was super zoomed in on them to get details so someone would be able to tell me what they were! I can’t believe I’ve never seen/ noticed them before.

Here’s a closer shot to how they look now. You can see they’re changing; they’re not quite to where they’ll be (and actually, as cold as it’s been the last couple of days, I wonder if they froze up and died instead of changing all the way), but they definitely look different than they did in the other picture.

Now that it’s gotten cold and the bugs aren’t as plentiful, the birds are hanging around the bird feeders a lot more. We get a LOT of Blue Jays and Cardinals.

Male Cardinals are brighter.

But I think the females are prettier.

We have a ton of Chickadees flitting around, but they flit so fast that I haven’t gotten a single decent picture of a single Chickadee, awesomely long lens or no. Maybe next week!

Patty hanging out on top of the bookcase in the front room, refusing to look at me.

Chuckles…

…giving me the bratty attitude.

“I really want to make some feral shelters to put out by the old coop so that any ferals who wander along will have a place to stay warm,” I told Fred. There’s the cat house on the front porch with the heated bed in it where Maxi can usually be found, and the little house on the other side of the front porch with the self-heating bed in it where Newt can often be found (though he more often comes inside -and if he looks particularly pathetic, Maxi will share her heated bed with him. He’s the only cat she can stand.), but both Newt and Maxi tend to be somewhat territorial, so if a poor lost/ dropped off cat needed some warmth, I feel that Maxi would probably chase them off.

Fred had a better idea. “What about the littlest coop?” he said. The littlest coop is the very first coop he built, way back when we had our original flock of 12 hens.

So he bought some straw and put it in the littlest coop, and he left the door to the coop open in case someone came along who needed some warmth.

And someone did. Joe Bob, to be exact.

“What? Am just making myself comfy. Isn’t that what this thing is HERE for?”

Silly Joe.

Smilin’ Joe.

Head scratch AND a chin scratch. Score!

Previously
2010: That was Maxi.
2009: This fucking horseshit sure is moving at a fucking snail’s pace.
2008: ::DESPAIR::
2007: Stinkerbelle: “I have put my stamp of love upon him, and now I shall lay here and seethe with hatred for those hussies who think they can have him. THEY CANNOT.”
2006: Newton (full name: Newton “Newtie” McNewterton, the salty country kitty) is pretty, yet aloof. It drives the wimmins CRAYZEE.
2005: “Us”? Who’s this “us” kemosabe?
2004: I suppose I need to actually start buying lottery tickets to make these dreams come true.
2003: And also because you Canadians are so cool that I want to canoodle with each and every one of you.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: God bless the internet and online merchants, god bless their little black hearts.
1999: More Christmas talk.

Time to let me know if you want a holiday postcard! (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 December 20th.

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.

New month, new banner! I made this one myself. That picture is the one that was on last year’s holiday card, starring one Loony Jake, who looks very leonine in that picture, if you ask me.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Anyone know what kind of bugs these are? If I’ve ever seen them before, the memory has been wiped right off my brain, so I need to know again. What ARE they? Anyone?

Observant George is observant.

Mama hen and her chicks.

White Silkie likes to teach her babies how to roost on the branches under the big tree.

Quick learner.

“Oh NO SHE DI-INT!”

Pretty rooster.

Another rooster. They’re so pretty, it’s too bad too many of them is a bad thing!

Pretty little zombie hen.

This is George, one of the few chickens I know by sight these days. She was so curious as a little chick that I named her George, and the name stuck.

Girrrrrrl, I think you need some lotion on those feet!

Hens, enjoying the sunshine.

“I seem to have this feather stuck to my beak and no way to get it off. Give me a beak here, sister?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.'”

Since we had some water in the pond, we thought it would be a good idea to herd the ducks out there so they could go for a swim.

They did not care to be herded. We’re just lucky that the four of them stick tightly together – if they’d scattered in separate directions, there’s no way we would have gotten them out to the pond. We finally did, though…

They were not as enthusiastic as we’d hoped.

They got in, paddled around for PERHAPS 30 seconds.

One of the girls flung a little water around.

And then they were like “Okay, we SWAM. Can we go back home, now??”

Later, Fred went out to find that the ducks had gotten into the pig yard and were all four crammed into a tiny puddle of water. It’s like they said “I think that pond was this way!”, and tried to get back to the pond, but ended up in the pig yard.

We tried again to herd them out to the pond a couple of nights ago, but it was raining and muddy and we weren’t having any luck, so we gave up. I’m thinking our best bet is to start slowly moving their pool out toward the pond so that they get used to going out in that direction.

I think the boy ducks are pretty.

But I think the girl ducks are prettier.

Last week, at the end of a rainy day, we had a rainbow.

Panoramic view (a little badly stitched together there at the top).

Another panoramic, without the top part (still getting the hang of the panoramic feature, obviously).

DOUBLE RAINBOW! What does it MEAN?! So intense!

Pretty Patty on the cat tree in the guest bedroom.

Snoozin’ Chuckles.

They sure do like that cat bed!

Maxi spends most of her time on the front porch these days, hanging out in the heated cat house (it’s got a heated bed in the house). If you open the door and go out there, she runs out to greet you.

Then she stretches and sharpens her claws on the welcome mat.

I know I’ve mentioned that Maxi has her own theme song. Here it is, interpreted by the Talking Tom app on my iPod Touch. It would only be more perfect if Talking Tom did jazz paws at the end.

Why, yes. Yes I AM far too amused by myself!

Previously
2010: She must have a digestive system made of Teflon®.
2009: I’m trying to convince Fred that we should take a vacation in the Spring and visit Polyface Farms.
2008: Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe the caramel popcorn is calling my name. It’s what’s for breakfast!
2007: Where Muh Daddy?! Starring Fricasee “Frick” And3rson
2006: You know, Maxi and Newt. The cats who AREN’T OURS.
2005: “Vivacious! Tell her she’s VIVACIOUS, Dr. Phil!”
2004: I eat too much of the wrong kind of food and am lazy.
2003: “IT’S JESUS DYING ON THE CROSS! HOW CAN THAT POSSIBLY BE CONFUSING YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS?”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Here’s a tip: If they’re your own children, it’s NEVER “babysitting.”
1999: I’m feeling incredibly lazy today (like that’s something new).

2012 calendars. —————–>

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Those of you who guessed that these flowers (the pink ones, not the Hydrangeas) are Periwinkles were correct. Also known as Vinca Minor. They’re still hanging in there, despite the fact that I haven’t watered them in like a week and a half because I suck. (I’ll water them today, I PROMISE.)

The garden, pretty much put to bed. There are two or three okra plants still out there – you can see them in the middle-right side of the picture. I need to harvest the humongous pods off the plants to save for seeds for next year, and pull up the plants.

My little raised-bed area. Those are chinese cabbage in the front (one of them has bolted; I’m going to harvest the seeds for next year), regular cabbage beside them, catnip there in the background, doing beautifully, and carrots on the right side of the picture. I have hopes that I’ll still be able to harvest those cabbages, but good LORD are they growing slowly.

That’s the volunteer tomato plant growing through the fence. Fred reported that he saw one of the littlest chicks roosting on one of the branches that was sticking through to the other side of the fence. Too cute!

Panoramic view from atop the dirt pile. This is of the front of the back forty, looking toward the house. The red building on the left is the garden shed. The green building on the right is the chicken coop. The house (white) is straight ahead. The problem with panoramic pictures is that when you size them down to fit in a blog post, it makes it hard to see anything! You can see this picture larger here (if you want to see it full-sized (8192×1856), here it is original-sized.)

And a panoramic view of the left side of the back forty. That’s the pig yard behind that fence, and the pond on the right side. Size large here and original size here.

“HURRY UP LADY WE WANT OUR SNACKINS!”

I love this face.

Dirt Mountain has a ROAD up to the top, for the record. The dogs think it’s SUPER AWESOME FUNTIME.

Me (and Gracie) in front of Dirt Mountain. This still really doesn’t show the full scope of how much dirt there is. We really need to figure out how to get a picture of it from above.

(The pig yard is on the other side of Dirt Mountain, btw.)

Gracie sure does love her Daddy.

Sweet pups.

I love this picture. I don’t know why all the hens were hanging out in the coop on such a warm, sunny day, but I like seeing the range of colors.

“Come on out, hens! I promise I’ll behave!”

This hen is really pretty, but the eyes on her – she kinda looks like a zombie chicken, doesn’t she? Braaaaaaains.

This is one of the hens from our original 12. Of the original 12 we got four(ish) years ago, we still have about six of them.

Okay, I had to go look at Flickr to see when I first posted pictures of the first chickens we ever got. We got them in March 2007, so 4 1/2 years ago. Here’s one of my favorite pictures from then:

Also, the following year (2008), here’s the Rock Star as a little chick:

I like how ducks always look like they’re smiling.

They just keep getting prettier.

Ready to rumble. You can really see the difference between the males and females from the front.

When you’re a Duck,
You’re a Duck all the way
From your first juicy bug
To your last dyin’ day.

Okay, lastly, a couple of Crooked Acres videos!

The first is the ducks and chickens, hanging out under the big tree. The first part is the ducks, the second part is the chickens – mostly the white Silkie and a couple of her babies, roosting on some fallen branches.

And the second is a couple of roosters making sure everyone knows what studs they are (crowing, that is. No chicken sex in this video!)

It cracks me up how casual Lucy is. She’s all “Yes, I’m sitting on top of my brother. What of it?”

Lucy and Everett.

Have I ever mentioned that if Harlan were human, he’d be a laid-back surfer boy? He’s such a sweet little stoner, always sitting around with his eyes at half mast, letting you pick him up and carry him around, and purring the whole time.

“Whatchoo want, lady?” (Sally)

Charlie comes by for a visit.

Charlie likes to keep an eye on things.

Harlan and Lucy, watching the bugs go by the window.

I love it when they snuggle up together like this.

Harlan, air-kneading whilst getting a belly rub.

Seriously. Do you SEE the size of those paws?!

Patty has the prettiest eyes.

Everett also has very pretty and very striking eyes.

Snoozin’ Chuckles.

Molly, lookin’ for bugs.

I hope his chewed-off white whisker grows back soon – he needs his balance restored!

Miz Poo in the Poo Cave (there’s a warming pad in there, thus this is her favorite place to hang out when she’s not on top of me).

Previously
2010: And then Rhyme proceeded to run around like a great big goofball. The end.
2009: The other night, Fred said “I should go out there at night and put a “NO FISHING” sign in the middle of the garden.”
2008: The pigs gave it two (four?) hooves up.
2007: Write about your day!
2006: I guess you can teach an old Fred new tricks.
2005: Can’t a girl be a dumbass without the whole world going into an uproar about it?
2004: For once, he had no good comeback.
2003: “Oh yeah. I hate this feeling. I should have just had a Diet Coke.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: Can you tell this irks me?

The 2012 calendars are available! All the calendars are marked up by $1, and all profits go to Challenger’s House.

I’ll put this up at the top of the entries for the rest of the week for those who don’t read every day or who read via a reader, and after this week they’ll be in the sidebar to the right.

Sights from Around Crooked Acres.

The Begonias on the front porch are still holding strong.

I love Azaleas.

And Hydrangeas.

And… whatever these are. I don’t remember – starts with a “p”, I think. Or has a “p” in the name.

I love how Morning Glories pop up in random locations.

George and Gracie on the hill o’ dirt. I think this was about mid-way through the pond dig – the hill is much higher now.

Gracie racing around and making me nervous ’cause I didn’t want to fall off the dirt hill (though I would have had a soft landing, I guess).

I’m the motherfucking Queen of Dirt Hill, yo.

(Please note that I did not know, when I went out to the back forty, that I would be having a picture taken of me. Otherwise, I would have taken OFF the two-sizes-too-big sweatshirt and put on a cocktail dress and tiara. And waxed my eyebrows and put on makeup and gotten a bikini wax. The point of the picture was less “Look at ME!” than “Look how tall this pile of dirt must be if someone who is five feet, five inches tall can stand on top of it and look like a speck!” That is a lot of motherfucking dirt.)

The ducks are not quite completely grown yet, but they’re just about there.

We’re pretty sure we’ve got two boys and two girls. Why?

Girl. (That splash of blue is just gorgeous, isn’t it?)

Two girls on the left, one boy on the right.

See how his head is turning green from the beak back? These are Rouen ducks, which look just like Mallards.

Another shot of the green.

I think this means we’ll have baby ducks next year. Because what we need in the back forty is MORE birds.

This one is “The Featherhead.”

The Rock Star. She is so pretty, I just can’t stand it.

Young rooster.

Mama hen and her babies.

Another young rooster.

Yet another young rooster. There are about ten of them out there right now, and since you just can’t have that many roosters for the number of hens we have, most of them will shuffle off to freezer camp soon. We decided that this one is going to stick around – he’s really good with the hens and not aggressive toward us.

Angry Muppet (the Silkie) and her babies.

Happy, happy pup.

George, being brushed. That look on his face is one reason Fred calls him a big doofus.

“You has a treat for me?”

::thlurrrp::

Back when the pond was about a quarter of the way finished. I need to get some updated pictures of the pond itself!

Brushin’ time.

Gracie, watching.

George and Gracie, watching Maxi walk by. That tomato plant in front of Gracie is still hanging in there.

Harlan loves a good belly rub.

Patty’s all “Do you MIND?”

Harlan melted right out that bed!

Sally and Everett.

Harlan on the cat tree.

So, I got my new camera and finally took it out of the box earlier this week. Some of the pictures above (the chicken and duck pictures, some of the dog pictures) were taken with it. I really like it quite a lot, and not least because it has a function I didn’t realize it had when I bought it: it has a panoramic function and it is TOO COOL to play with. I used it to get this picture of all the big Peppers atop the bookcases and cat tree in the front room (please ignore what a mess those bookcases are; I seriously need to organize the shelves).

Much like Joe Bob does, if Maxi sees one of us outside she talks to us until we walk over and pet her.

And then she flops down in the dirt and rolls around.

Previously
2010: Have you met Rhyme?
2009: No entry.
2008: Poet! Knowit!
2007: Newt was a total teeny baby this time last year – he was clearly NOT fully grown at that point, as this picture can attest.
2006: Maddy’s new Mommy and Daddy came a-visitin’ yesterday.
2005: Huh. I was wondering why Tom Cullen was snooping around in the stamp drawer
2004: The spud and I stood patiently by while the man chattered at the school employees for several minutes and then my head exploded, scattering brain matter everywhere.
2003: “Jessica Lynch!” I said. “Isn’t she the only POW we’ve ever had in all of history?”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green.