Category: Crooked Acres

From Karen –

I volunteer with a small rescue group near Raleigh, NC named Alley Cats and Angels. We were recently contacted by another group looking for help with a very bad neglect situation. We took in three kittens and three adults, all in very poor shape. They’ve all been to the vet now, and though at first one vet thought at least one of the adults might be too far gone (she feared the foot wound infection had gone into the bones), we are now hopeful that all will be able to make it with proper care. But we could really use some help with the medical expenses for these cats, so have started a chipin campaign.

Our blog will be updated with ongoing status for these guys as they progress. The initial post about them is here.

Once again, the ChipIn for these poor kittens and cats is here. If you can help out, please do. Always remember that every little bit helps!

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Vote for Gracie! It’s the last week of voting. Gracie’s currently solidly in first place, and I’d like to keep her that way. After Friday, the three judges get to decide who wins, so it’s not in the bag for Gracie even if she gets a bazillion votes – but it certainly won’t hurt!

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As a side note, I am currently recovering from surgery, so I wrote this entry ahead (wrote it on Tuesday) and scheduled it to post. Who loves ya, baby?

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Sights from around Myrtle Beach (from when I was on vacation last week!)

I always try on hats when I’m shopping on vacation. I have no idea why.

Saw this van at Barefoot Landing. I don’t think it runs.

Huge patch of basil (which I only recognized because of the smell). Isn’t it pretty? It was covered in bees.

Hibiscus.

“Do you MIND?”

WonderWorks.

On Tuesday we went to Charleston so I could see Kiawah Island (where my parents have spent a couple of winters). We stopped at The Boulevard Diner and I had the BEST shrimp po’ boy EVER.

(It wasn’t one of the specials.)

I took a picture of myself in the bathroom because, well, why not?

Then we stopped to see the Angel Oak Tree, which is believed to be about 1500 years old. It’s HUGE.

One of those people is me (picture taken by my Dad). Another of those people is my Mom.

The picture of my Dad taking a picture of me unfortunately came out blurry.

Boardwalk to the beach.

Horseshoe crab shells.

Looks very Morning Glory-ish, no?

I called my father the “PaParazzi” and then laughed and laughed at my hilarity (the grandkids all call him PaPa.)

Any idea what kind of bush this is? We saw a lot of them, and I’m curious.

My favorite kind of shell.

I love taking pictures of the clouds from the plane window.

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Molly may have a bit of a crush on Spanky.

Sally the wild thang.

Everett and his white whiskers.

“Hmm….”

“Hmm….”

Just call her Trouble.

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Tommy, hanging out in the basket in the kitchen.

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Previously
2010: So he bit the camera.
2009: Awww. Da Cookies!
2008: King Suggie snoozes in his pile o’ cat beds.
2007: No entry.
2006: Biscuits for everyone!
2005: Your fascinating tidbit for the day.
2004: More Myrtle Beach.
2003: It’s got to be early-onset Alzheimer’s, y’all.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I think back on the shit I pulled as a senior in high school, and I’m flat-out amazed that I managed to graduate.
1999: Just an all-around relaxing day.

From Karen –

I volunteer with a small rescue group near Raleigh, NC named Alley Cats and Angels. We were recently contacted by another group looking for help with a very bad neglect situation. We took in three kittens and three adults, all in very poor shape. They’ve all been to the vet now, and though at first one vet thought at least one of the adults might be too far gone (she feared the foot wound infection had gone into the bones), we are now hopeful that all will be able to make it with proper care. But we could really use some help with the medical expenses for these cats, so have started a chipin campaign.

Our blog will be updated with ongoing status for these guys as they progress. The initial post about them is here.

Once again, the ChipIn for these poor kittens and cats is here. If you can help out, please do. Always remember that every little bit helps!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Vote for Gracie! It’s the last week of voting. Gracie’s currently solidly in first place, and I’d like to keep her that way. After Friday, the three judges get to decide who wins, so it’s not in the bag for Gracie even if she gets a bazillion votes – but it certainly won’t hurt!

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I am very sad to report to you that this morning, I am taking Buster to Petsmart. I am hoping and praying that the right people come along and fall in love with and adopt him, the sooner the better. He is a super awesome cat, but this is not the home for him.

From the beginning, when we let him out into general population, he’s been very aggressive toward the other cats, especially Spanky. (Except Jake. Everyone just LOVES Jake, pretty much without exception.) If it were just a slap fight, I wouldn’t be so concerned – but Buster’s been going after Spanky for real, and Spanky is an old guy who really can’t kick butt the way he used to. Buster tried going after Alice, but Alice turned around and said “Really? You want to mess with ME?” and she showed him she’s not scared to stand up for herself. After that, Buster left her alone.

I know that some of you are thinking of any number of things we could try, but honestly we’ve tried everything. I feel terrible taking him to Petsmart, but this is truly not the home for my sweet Buster. He’s a people lover, and I think that if there were only a couple of cats in this house – cats who could stand up for themselves – he’d be okay. But the number of cats in this house stresses him out, and nothing we’ve tried changes that. He needs to be in a home where he isn’t constantly being stressed out and where he can’t ride roughshod over the other cats.

Like I said, Spanky’s an old guy. I think he deserves to live out his last years in peace. I’ve been truly concerned that Buster was going to hurt him, and I can’t let that happen. I’ve been sequestering Buster in the bathroom when I’m not here to be sure he isn’t going after Spanky, and that’s been stressing Buster out, too. It’s time to let him find his true forever home.

I understand if you’re disappointed in us (hey, wasn’t I super-judgy about the woman who gave Buster up? This is what I get! I wonder if this, and not her doctor telling her she shouldn’t be cleaning out litter boxes is the true reason she brought him back to the shelter.), but it’s a final decision on our part. I love Buster an awful lot, but I think that sometimes loving them means knowing when they’re not in a situation where they can be happy. I hope you understand.

“Am I not beautiful?” You are, Buster. You definitely, definitely are.

(And then he turned around and went after Corbie. Sigh.)

Watching the birds out the porthole window.

Hanging out on the dryer.

See the light spot in the middle of all the dark? I call that his angel’s kiss.

(It’s just the angle. His face isn’t quite that big!)

Bye, sweet Buster. I’m going to miss your goofy face, your drama queen complaints, how excited you get at snack time, your insatiable curiosity (“Hey, what’s up HERE?”) and your loud, loud purr.

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On Saturday, Fred and I left the house for PERHAPS twenty minutes. We drove up into town, dropped off a movie, and came home. In the time when we were gone, some fucking DOUCHEBAG drove his STUPID FUCKING ASS off the road onto our property, hit the utility pole, and then FUCKING LEFT.

Well, THAT doesn’t look safe.

At ALL.

Fred called the emergency number to let them know. A while later a utility truck came along, and the guy checked it out. Another utility truck came along a few minutes later, and the guys stood out there and talked it over, and then left. Then… nothing. Yesterday morning, another utility truck parked in the church parking lot, and the guys came over, looked the pole over, stood and talked on their cell phones, and then left.

Still, nothing.

I imagine that before they get around to replacing the pole, it’ll get windy, the whole fucking thing will fall over and THEN IT WILL BE A BIG FUCKING MESS.

You’ll remember – or maybe you won’t, in which case I’m reminding you – that about a year ago (possibly longer) some fucking DOUCHEBAG drove down the road, swerved off into our yard, took out the mailbox and just. kept. GOING. What the fucking fuck is up with fucking assfucks not stopping and fucking, I don’t know, AT LEAST FUCKING APOLOGIZING FOR FUCKING UP OUR PROPERTY?

There was also the guy who swerved off the road, flew across our property, went across the ditch, and finally came to a stop on the church property. Fred saw him very early the next morning, and tried to help him get his truck moved back onto the road, but had no luck. And then there was the guy who drove into the ditch between our property and the church property and had to be towed out.

I am thinking there’s maybe a reason the people who owned this house sold it.

And I know that four (there might have been one more I can’t think of) incidents in five years is not so bad, but mark my words – it’s only a matter of time before some stupid fucking douchebag drives off the road and into our HOUSE. Or into the garage. Because there’s always some douchebag douchin’ along being douchey.

AND PROBABLY TEXTING WHILE HE’S DRIVING.

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The pond guys showed up bright and early yesterday, and except for a half hour lunch, they worked hard all day long!

The first thing they did with the dirt they dug up was to dump some of it in the pig yard. The pigs have rooted up that yard but good, and when Fred mows out there, the mower gets stuck in the ruts. Once the pigs go off to freezer camp (at the end of the month, by the way), Fred will spread the dirt out and even out the yard.

The pigs reacted to those piles of dirt like they were piles of the MOST AWESOME STUFF EVER. They rooted around in the dirt, they ran up on the hills of dirt, and then they rolled around on their backs like dogs.

George and Gracie snoopervised all day long and thought it was the MOST awesome thing EVER.

I took this picture around noon:

Fred took this one around 4:30 (I was off taking Tommy to the vet) :

Fred stood in the trench that is the beginning of the long side (I think. Unless it’s the short side? Hell if I know.)

At the end of day 1, the pond guy guesstimated that the pond is less than 1/3 dug, and that we are going to end up with far, far more dirt than we need. Luckily, he knows a guy who’s building a house and may be interested in taking the extra dirt off our hands.

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Update on Tommy’s eye: Last night I took Tommy to see our other vet for a second opinion (the one I really like the most, but I hate to put the cats through the half hour drive up there). She took a long look at Tommy’s eye, and then said that she thinks it’s iris melanosis – in other words, a “freckle” on his iris. The patch of discoloration is flat rather than being like a growth and isn’t affecting his vision. Also, I brought the pictures of his eye from 2009 and 2010 to show her, and as the spot hasn’t grown much in two years, she doesn’t think that we have to worry about it being melanoma.

Of course we’ll keep an eye on it, and if there are any changes in the spot, she’ll refer us to a specialist. So – for now, at least – Tommy will keep both his pretty eyes.

(But there’s not any reason he couldn’t still go as a pirate for Halloween!)

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Molly totally looks like she’s in a Logitech ad, no? “When MY sister annoys me by sniffing at my back end, I take a deep breath and remember I have a Logitech mouse, and it’s all good.”

::pbllllt::

Molly and the Ears of Annoyance.

“WHAT. What you want, lady?”

Molly loves loves LOVES to be held on her back like a baby. She was purring up a storm when Fred snapped this picture.

Patty Peppers, keeping an eye on the goings-on.

“What’s going on over THERE?”

She’s the quiet observer, our Patty.

“WHAT.”

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“Wait. We’re ALLOWED to do that?!”

Um, no. No you’re not, Miz Poo. And neither is he. Not that it stops him any!

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Previously
2010: Back from Myrtle Beach!
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: he’ll find them on his hard drive under “Memory Stick, October 18, 2007, Motherfucker.”
2006: I hope I mean that in a good way. I’m not sure yet.
2005: For at least five full seconds a big cartoon question mark appeared above my head and my brain flipped frantically through the instruction manual trying to figure out just what the fuck was going on.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: Poor, deformed Miz Poo.
2001: Ya gotta love the Poo.
2000: Remember that episode?
1999: I just love it when I don’t have to cook.

I’m off the grid at the moment – visiting my parents in Myrtle Beach, SC where they have a timeshare. I’ve scheduled entries to post every morning at 6 am (central US time) Monday through Friday, so you won’t have to go without your daily entertainment courtesy of moi. They’re all picture (mostly cat) entries, high on pictures, low on words. Just the way you like it!

I don’t expect to be able to check my email or Facebook or anything, but I’ll probably post to Twitter every now and again, so you can check there. Be good, and if you can’t be good, take notes and tell me all about it when I get back! 🙂

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Vote for Gracie! (Thank you!)

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Dem pups.

Ducks. They’ve grown so much since we got them!

They’re always this close together. I don’t know for sure, but I’m thinking we’ve got four girl duckies, here. (Yay!)

Mama hen and her babies.

Someone asked what the daddy of all those babies looks like. This is him, the only grown rooster we have. He’s a big boy, and apparently QUITE fertile.

Two mamas and a gaggle of babies.

Snoozin’ pigs.

::perk::

::stampede::

::stampede::

“You has cookies?”

Stampeding tires a girl out.

Silkie. I call her the angry Muppet.

Ducks like tomatoes too. Go figure.

Crested Golden Polish (ie, The Rock Star) is the prettiest chicken we have, if you ask me.

Not quacking yet, but he’s getting there.

Caught in the act of taking a dust bath. Doesn’t she look guilty?

Lone duck, separated from the other three.

The volunteer tomato plant at the edge of the chicken yard. It didn’t get very big (it wasn’t watered very often), but it’s still producing!

Wee baby chick.

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Harlan has a crush.

“Hey, mister!”

“Hi!”

::smooch::

::smooch::

“What was THAT?”

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Previously
2010: Greetings from Myrtle Beach.
2009: “This would be the perfect time to clean out the refrigerator,” Fred said, all perky-like.
2008: Like I was having a temper tantrum, so I grabbed his list and took off so he couldn’t check it twice.
2007: No entry.
2006: I sure do wish I was going to see Callie Torres and not some old guy.
2005: Does this mean I’m getting old?
2004: No entry.
2003: Bringing home Mister Boogers.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: All about the cats.
1999: I certainly am bitching a lot today, aren’t I?

I’m off the grid at the moment – visiting my parents in Myrtle Beach, SC where they have a timeshare. I’ve scheduled entries to post every morning at 6 am (central US time) Monday through Friday, so you won’t have to go without your daily entertainment courtesy of moi. They’re all picture (mostly cat) entries, high on pictures, low on words. Just the way you like it!

I don’t expect to be able to check my email or Facebook or anything, but I’ll probably post to Twitter every now and again, so you can check there. Be good, and if you can’t be good, take notes and tell me all about it when I get back! 🙂

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Vote for Gracie! (Thank you!)

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BUGS! Tuesday

(Note: There are kitten pics, if you’d rather skip the bug pics. They’re not THAT scary, wimps. Also, Elayne, no frogs. I promise.)

Praying mantis. We almost never see these around here, I’d seen maybe three or four in the five years we’ve lived here. I think they’re really neat, but they kind of scare me.

Young assassin bug.

Hanging out on the rain gauge (which is dry).

I think assassin bugs are really kind of neat-looking when they’re little.

Also, they eat flies, which is A-OK with me.

They can hang out in the rain gauge forever, as far as I’m concerned.

BUT.

When they get big and ugly

and hang out on the okra and eyeball me like they’d like to chew my face off

then I’d kind of prefer them to move along, thanks.

MOTH SEX. Didn’t know you’d be seeing insect porn today, did you? (I assume they were mating. They were attached at the back end, in any case.)

Web. I don’t know where the spider was. Maybe she gave up and left because the assassin bugs were getting all the flies.

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They really do love that cat tree an awful lot.

Especially the hammock part.

Leapin’ Molly.

Charlie Peppers in the sun.

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Alice is exhausted from her perusal of the Gardener’s catalog.

She’s a Ham-mick loving monkey.

Alice has a theme song. It goes:

Alice Mo
the calico
sure does love
her daddy!

If I could sing at all, I’d totally record that for you. I need to look into getting me one of those Auto-Tune programs!

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Previously
2010: Yes, that IS an eye booger on his cheek.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: I was so concerned for their safety that I ran and got the camera. Ahem.
2006: But there’s no horn on the lawnmower!
2005: Did you feel the earth shake too?
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: My breasts are strawberry scented.
1999: I was ambitious today.

Vote for Gracie! (Thank you!)

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Probably the last Rose of Sharon bloom for the season.

I am now understanding why y’all were amazed that I planted Purslane. Invasive is exactly the word I’d use to describe this stuff. It’s growing EVERYWHERE now. (On the plus side, next year I’ll just harvest it from the lawn!)

Left to right, Meyer Lemon tree, sweet gum tree (which started growing in the driveway, then Fred potted it to see if he could keep it growing. Because we don’t have enough sweet gum trees. Please, can we have more gum balls to slip on in the Fall and Winter?) and garlic chives, which didn’t do much this summer.

Leaves are finally changing.

Volunteer tomato plant in the middle of the row of butternut squash.

Teeny tiny butternut squash. Hope springs eternal, I guess.

If he plants Tabasco peppers next year, I’m going to kill him. What a PAIN to deal with, these tiny peppers.

Morning Glory, I love you.

Okra flower. So so pretty.

Sungold tomatoes. I finally started pulling up the tomato plants earlier this week – got about half of them pulled up – and got a huge bucket of split and chewed-on tomatoes for the pigs and chickens. I’m going to pull the rest of the tomatoes up later today. Time to put the big garden to bed.

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Charlie Peppers now has the nickname “Chuckles.” Patty’s nickname is “Sissy.” I remember a time when I thought Charlie Peppers was never going to meow, he was so quiet. Now he’s the whiniest little complainer I’ve ever seen. Good thing he’s cute.

“I sleep now. You go ‘way.”

“HEY. Where you goin’?!”

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Molly, near the laptop where Fred works on his book. One day he reported that when he sat down to write, the document had a row of Ts across the bottom. Clearly Molly wants to be a writer, too!

The face. The little crossed eyes. Doesn’t Lucy Peppers just kill you DEAD?

Molly makes herself at home.

Tree full o’ Peppers.

Pepper tree!

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In the evening, when it gets dark out, we call all the cats inside so we can close the back door. As a reward for coming inside, they get crunchies. Some cats like them, others don’t. These cats assuredly do.

Tommy, Jake, Elwood, Buster, Miz Poo, Corbie.

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Previously
2010: “I SAID stop making the googly eyes at me, Melodie!”
2009: I love me a good juicy Asshole.
2008: Pretty batshit crazy, as it turns out.
2007: No entry.
2006: You all have my full permission to skip the boring stuff to get to the cute kitten stuff.
2005: I forsee a lot of spud-teasing this evening.
2004: Phil Hellmuth is a whiny little bitch.
2003: “And then he told me he likes to have sex with you in the break room every day at 11!” he lied.
2002: No entry.
2001: Recovery.
2000: No one ever said I had a long attention span!

Vote for Gracie! Please?

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Last week, it stormed. A bolt of lightning hit close enough to the house to fry the underground fence around the back yard (the little box inside the house that runs the fence, I mean to say – the wire itself was fine). Fred didn’t realize ’til the weekend that it also spot-welded the hook that holds the gate to the chickens’ maternity yard closed.

Happy pups.

The ducks are getting bigger every day.

They always stick together.

“Guys, come back over here! Bob found a bug!”

They seem to prefer this smaller container over the kids’ pool. I hope they like their pond, whenever the guy gets it dug.

“Who, me? Slacking under the chicken coop? Why, no. I’d never!”

“Yes he would!”

Side eyes.

Scratching an itch.

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!”

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!”

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!”

“::puff::puff::puff::gasp::pant:: Someone said there were COOKIES over here?!”

“I would totally get out of this wallow if you gave me a cookie. ::sideeyes::”

Mama hen and her babies.

These are the chicks who were born last week. We had another six hatch yesterday. And the Silkie is sitting on seven eggs. ::sigh::

Almost as much as tomatoes, chickens love watermelon.

That white one there in the middle is all “MINE, ALL MINE.”

“Hey! Y’all get away from my watermelon!”

This gangly teenage rooster grabbed a chunk and ran off with it so he could eat in peace. That’s the smart move!

I just put this poster up in the foster room. I think it’s really neat – I saw one in a vet’s office, and had to get one for myself. I’d kind of like to get a feline internal organs chart to go along with it, but I’m not having any luck finding one.

The walls are getting crowded in there. Over the door to the closet is Fat Cat Capsizing. To the left of that is the Guide to House Cat Coat Color and Patterns, and to the left of that is the picture Katherine gave me several months ago, which I like more every time I look at it.

On the other side, the skeletal poster, a “Keep Cats and Kitty On” print, and a shelf that holds the phone and laser toy. Oh, and though you can’t see it, a gorgeous cross-stitched kitten picture my grandmother cross-stitched for my daughter and which I borrowed for the foster room (she’ll get it back some day!)

I try, at least one dinner a week, to serve nothing but food we grew at Crooked Acres. Sunday, we had pork chops, okra, and butternut squash fries.

And then Monday, pork chops (left over from the night before), roasted acorn squash (the last of the THREE we ended up getting), and tomatoes and mozzarella.

But don’t be too impressed – Tuesday and Wednesday, we had shrimp that we definitely did NOT grow here (but it was oh so good!)

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One minute he’s sitting there minding his own business…

And the next!

He’s getting his butt kicked!

By his very own little sister!

Soundly kicked!

I guess she’s not frail and fragile any more, to say the least!

And then they nap.

I’m truly not quite sure how she gets up there. I’m assuming she jumps up? Climbs up? Who knows. Maybe she’s Super Patty and she leaps up there in a single bound!

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Never! Give! Up!

“Not sure how I got up here, and not sure how I’m gonna get down.”

I love Everett’s orange eyes.

Sally Peppers is not impressed.

Goofy Lucy Peppers.

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Newt, trying to blend in with the leaves.

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Previously
2010: The many moods of Marty.
2009: That was one big fucking dose of Benadryl and I was high as a kite.
2008: “Shit!” he exclaimed. “We forgot to check Nick for toots!”
2007: No entry.
2006: If I were manic-depressive (wait. Do they call it bipolar now? I haven’t kept up on my psychiatrically politically correct terms lately), I think I would have been considered to be in a manic state yesterday.
2005: Never-ending.
2004: If you had any idea how much time I spent backspacing and retyping words when I write my entries, you’d burst into tears of sympathy.
2003: Who the fuck are Nikki and Paris Hilton, and why would I give a good goddamn what they’re wearing or doing or driving or fucking?
2002: No entry.
2001: You know you’re getting old when you have to ask a 12 year-old girl who’s on the TV.
2000: No entry.

Attention, Michiganders! PAAW is having a low-cost vaccination and microchip event this weekend in Madison Heights. $10 vaccs, $20 microchips, dogs and cats – DEFINITELY worth the price. You can find out more at their web page, here, or friend them on Facebook!

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Hey, did you know you can vote for Gracie once a day? In case you were wondering!

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Sights (and sounds!) from around Crooked Acres.

The watermelon plants keep putting out flowers, but I think we’ve gotten all the watermelons we’re going to get.

The Bhut Jolokia (Ghost) peppers are really coming in now. I think the jalapenos are just about played out, though.

Annnnd the Tabascos are starting to come in, finally.

“Me? Just sitting on these here eggs. You?”

Taking a short break from sitting on the nest.

Mama hen and her babies. There are five of them, because the one thing we need around here is more chickens.

The ducks are doing well. They’re starting to feather in (see the speckled brown feathers around their wings?)

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

All four ducks in a row. Notice that two of them have white rings on the backs of their necks and two don’t? I’m hoping that means we have two males and two females.

Such pretty little things, no?

“Hallo.”

Giving me the side eyes.

Always alert to the possibility that I might have cookies.

Hangin’ in the wallow.

Sitting down for a bite to eat.

“Know what would hit the spot? A cookie. Be a dear and rustle one up for me, would you?”

“You has a cookie for me?”

“…or perhaps TWO?”

Perhaps you’ve learned that pigs like cookies?

They also like to play and be sprayed with the hose.

The chickens’ maternity yard appears to have a mascot. (I’m assuming it’s the same frog in both pictures. They LOOK the same to me, anyway.)

Happy George.

Watching the ducks.

Gracie (front) and George keep an eye on the chickens.

George loves the smell of acorns in the morning.

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We put Charlie and Patty Peppers in the guest bedroom yesterday, and they were up on the cat tree in no time flat.

Patty watched Charlie fling himself off the cat tree to the floor, and she was amazed.

Charlie tried out the scratching post.

And they played for a while before curling up and napping – Charlie on the cat tree, Patty in a cat bed on the bed.

I think they’re going to be okay. They’re starting to act like real kittens!

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Four of the Peppers were sleeping in that cat bed at the end of my bed. Harlan decided to be different and sleep in the cat bed on the chair. (That yellow thing on the bed is a back scratcher I had been waving around in the air in a vain attempt to get them to look at me.)

Sally and Lucy like to hang out in the Ham-mick and bunny kick each other.

Everett’s checking the cleanliness of my bathtub.

Harlan and Lucy snuggle up for a nap.

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Buster and Elwood in the back yard.

Buster Brown gets around.

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Previously
2010: So high he resorted to toe-sniffing.
2009: I wanted to file for divorce.
2008: It took me ’til dinner time to get the house cleaned, and I swear to god the house doesn’t look any different at ALL.
2007: No entry.
2006: He shifted position and eyed Fred with bright-eye malevolence.
2005: Maybe I just like to bitch, y’think?
2004: Waiting for Ivan.
2003: No more Benifer. How sad.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Speaking of N Sync – that Lance Bass is a cutie, but I get the distinct feeling that although the lights are on, no one’s home.

Attention, those of you in the Roanoke, VA area! Barbara needs help finding a home (or a rescue) for a dog:

The dog is ours, Dodger. He is an Australian Shepherd/Collie mix. We got him in April as a 6 week puppy. To cut to the chase, he is aggressive towards our youngest, Erin, who is 7, and shook one of our cats so badly, she is at the vets with a spinal cord injury and we are trying to decide what to do…. We have 6 other cats that I have kept inside, because I didn’t feel like putting Dodger in his kennel is fair either. But the cats are in/out cats so that isn’t fair to them. He has collie coloring, but the blue/brown eye combo of a shepherd. He loves to run. He would do well in a house with teenagers and no cats. Our shelter is full, I tried the Australian shepherd rescue group and haven’t heard back, and I tried a local no kill, and haven’t heard back from them either.

Our animals add so much to our lives, but this is the hard part, isn’t it? Finding a safe home for the pet who hurt our beloved Tabby Dabby, and trying to decide if Tabby needs put down.

If you can help or know a person or rescue who can or have any questions, please email me (mizrobyn (at) gmail (dot) com), and I’ll pass your email on to Barbara.

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Attention, those of you in the NYC/ NJ area! Gail’s looking for help:

A kitten literally followed me into my car this morning. Literally. First day of school (I’m a teacher). Sigh. NYC is famous for alley cats. I can’t help them all, but when one runs over to you in a moving car…

And I still have three warehouse kittens. And am moving in 20 days. If you could think of anything to help, I would appreciate it.

BTW, all he does in purr and purr and lick and snuggle. And eat.

Here he is pre-bath:

Here are some pics of him cleaned up. They are bad, because he doesn’t know how to be still. He took a bath and didn’t fuss, and allowed me to blow dry him. He is a charmer for sure, just can’t be still.

If anyone can help, or has any ideas or questions for Gail, please email me (mizrobyn (at) gmail (dot) com) and I’ll pass your emails along to her!

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Sights from around Crooked Acres (and elsewhere!)

On Saturday, we went up to Ardmore, Tennessee to go to the Dog Days Flea Market. It’s an outdoor flea market that’s held every Sunday and Monday, except for Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends, when it’s held Friday through Monday. We usually go up there on Sundays when we have nothing to do around the house and Fred is bored and just wants to go out and do something. We got, I think, our second set of pigs there, and when we had turkeys, that’s where they came from. Oh, and we’ve gotten a few chickens there, too.

(Please note that these aren’t the best pictures on earth, because I was taking pictures in a sneaky hold-the-camera-out-and-hope-I-get-the-pic fashion.)

I cannot believe I left without making Fred buy this thing for me. Wouldn’t it look fabulous on the front porch?

I’d love to have some of those old blue Ball ( ::snicker:: )(I am 14 years old) canning jars, but the last time I checked the price on one, it was $8, and I don’t know if that’s a good price or not, but I have plenty of non-old canning jars I’m just as happy to use.

I would not recommend buying your Muscle Milk or batteries at the flea market, but I did buy six bottles of Sunsilk hair gel there once and it worked just fine.

I should have bought this sign for the chicken coop. Who doesn’t want some Funk-y corn?

Most of the people who sell their wares at the flea market have campers or tents to stay in. This person apparently just plopped their cot down in the middle of the grass. Looks kind of comfy, but I don’t know how they handled the nighttime creepy crawlies.

Old tins.

More junk. (Someone needs to get that boy statue to the doctor. He’s GRAY.)

Acupuncture at the flea market! Free demo!

We always have to stop and look through the videos, even though the only VCR we own is out in the garage.

I have informed everyone I’m related to and who might have a say in the matter that if I end up in a cemetery with one of these fake arrangements on my grave, I’ll be coming back to haunt them ALL.

Knockoff purses.

Rifles everywhere at the flea market.

Isn’t this the neatest thing? HOW did I leave without buying that thing? It’s so cool and would have looked perfect on the side of the coop!

Metal chicken! (But not giant one.)

This is probably my least favorite part of the flea market, the selling of puppies. Actually, no. My least favorite part is the part where the puppies are hundreds of dollars, but the cages of kittens who occasionally show up are free. (This time around, there were no kittens at all.)

Did you need a fire hydrant? I bet George and Gracie would have loved to have their very own!

Lots of people selling home-canned goods, too.

We didn’t buy any of that stuff – honestly, we rarely buy anything at Dog Days that isn’t living – but we did buy something to make Fred happy. On the drive up there, we were talking about ducks (because we weren’t even pretending that we were going up there for anything OTHER than ducks at this point) and Fred was talking about how many ducks we should get. I told him I’d prefer to have an even number of them, two or four (not that he doesn’t know what an even number is, but I didn’t want him to think I meant twelve or fourteen!), and he thought that was funny. When we found a booth with little ducks, there was a cage of about ten itty bitty ducks, but we didn’t want the tiny ones. In the next cage over? Four ducks who were maybe not teenage ducks, but somewhere between toddlers and teenagers (tweens?). We snatched ’em up and got out of there.

Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Bob. (I’m joking. They all look the same to me. And no, we don’t know what sex they are yet. I’m hoping for three girls and a boy, but four girls would be fine with me. With our luck, though, they’re all boys. I think girl Rouens are prettier than the males.)

Manna from heaven! (Or scratch from Fred. One or the other!)

Underwater duck!

Smilin’ duck.

Bob bobs.

“Hey, guys, what’s THAT? That’s a BIG pool! We can really go swimmin’ in that one!”

Note that Bob’s over there in the Rubbermaid pool.

But then he saw the attraction of a bigger pool.

These ducks will get in any water they see. Katherine was visiting yesterday, and we looked over and there were two ducks in the dogs’ water dish. Fred told me he was out there the other day, and one of the ducks sat down in a tiny little puddle of water. So cute, these ducks. I hope they don’t grow up obnoxious.

(The ducks are not future food, by the way. They’re purely for entertainment purposes. If any of them are girls, and they lay eggs, we’ll use their eggs to bake with, but as far as eating duck? I’m not interested. Not that I’ve had any experience with eating duck, but I also don’t eat goat, and I’m okay with that!)

Randomness:

Morning Glories are so very pretty.

That’s right, Sam’s Club. Lecture me on sensible eating when there was a display of Little Debbie snack cakes behind me when I snapped this picture. (But I DID buy those apple straws and they ARE way too good and I will NEVER buy any more because they’re TOO good!)

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The Peppers Gang have been spayed and neutered! They were very unhappy with me on the ride up to the vet. And then poor Molly actually HISSED at me when I picked up their carriers, so was so scared. But they did well (they hissed at the vet tech, but weren’t mean about it, she told me) and now THAT’s done and over with, and we get to just enjoy having them around ’til it’s time for them to go off to Petsmart. In a few days, we’ll give them more room to roam, and then if that goes well, we’ll see how they do in Gen Pop. Jake’s going to be in hog heaven, because he sure loves watching the little ones run around and play!

Would you look at that bratty teenage attitude?

Lucy in motion.

“What doin’, lady?”

Lucy tellin’ secrets.

Got it!

Everett’s face, though blurry, cracks me UP.

Everett gets a snuggle from Fred.

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No pictures of Charlie and Patty today (it was a busy day yesterday), but they did get baths last night, and definitely look better. They also look a lot more bright-eyed than they did just two days ago, and in fact last night Fred had Charlie rolling around on his back purring and kneading the air. I just wish their big, swollen, worm-filled bellies would go down some (I’m seeing worms in the litter box, so the medication is starting to work!) and if I saw them play just a tiny bit, that would make me happy, too.

I saw Charlie grooming Patty last night, and I pretty much died from the cute.

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Poor Tommy – everyone just loves him so very much, he can’t get a moment to himself. (That’s Loony Jake laying on top of him.)

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Previously
2010: For today, feast your eyes upon the sheer gorgeous stripey perfection of the kitty known as Corby McGee.
2009: It’s like we’ve entered another universe completely.
2008: Yes, more chickens.
2007: No entry.
2006: I think that “Proven to be beneficial to livers” should be Fred’s new tagline.
2005: Give me some of that, Barbara Bush, you ignoramus.
2004: No entry.
2003: Because believe it or not, it never once occurred to me that the Walton family was comprised of hillbillies.
2002: Look, I drink a gallon of water a day. I need to know that I can pee when I need to, so stop rolling your eyes at me.
2001: No entry.
2000: Can I tell you how much I loathe Bret Easton Ellis?

If you’re trying to get to Nance‘s site and can’t get anything, worry not: it’s not you, it’s her. She broke her site when she was fiddling with files, and won’t have a chance to get to fixing it ’til this weekend. She’ll be baaaaack.

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Susan says:

Minn-Kota PAAWS, a place I volunteer at when I visit friends in Fargo, is up for a $25,000 grant from Markham Vineyards, which it could win if enough people vote for it (it’s a finalist). Think how many more feral cats and pets belonging to low income people could be helped. Please help spread the word and/or go register to vote and continue to do so once every day until 10/3/11 (or as many times as you can).

It’s a great place all staffed and run by volunteers wanting to minimize the number of unwanted cats.

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New month, new banner! This one comes courtesy of local readerfriend Jean, with whom I was having a discussion about tomatoes and how annoying it was to find tomatoes with a single bite taken out of them. That banner cracks me UP.

Thanks, Jean!

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.

These pictures are small so as not to freak out the more sensitive among you. Those are clusters of daddy longlegs-type spiders (I don’t know if they’re actually daddy longlegs – their bodies seem bigger than they ought to be), and the one on the right, I almost put my HAND in that cluster. UGH.

And another creepy one – Fred shot poison at this yellowjacket nest (which is inside the wood shed) and killed all the yellowjackets that were on it, but apparently there were plenty of them out running errands while he was doing it. Guess we need to knock it down rather than leave it hanging. I am skeered to death of yellowjackets. They’re MEAN.

Fred made pineapple-ghost chili hot sauce over the weekend. He tells me it’s hot. There’s a shock, no?

Oreo-stuffed chocolate chip cookie. I made a half-batch over the weekend. They were good the day I made them, but REALLY good after sitting for a day. Recipe is hither. The only problem is that I can’t eat a whole one without feeling ill (and I’m not saying that in that annoying “Oh, I ate a Lifesaver and I’m stuffed!” way. It’s a HUGE cookie.) Next time, I may buy a pack of those mini-Oreos and make much smaller ones.

Dried okra, waiting ’til the cats knock their current okra toys under the stove.

The okra plants are now my height (I’m 5’5″) or taller. We’ve gotten so much okra that the freezer is stuffed with sliced okra. Since I’ve gotten enough okra put away to keep us going ’til next year, we’re currently eating okra with almost every meal. My favorite way to eat it is roasted. It’s REALLY good – put uncut okra pods on a cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper, cook at 450ºF for 20 minutes – and not at all slimy.

Ghost chilies, ripening in the garden. I’ve been told that I’m on tap to make a batch of cherry-ghost chili jam. I am not looking forward to this – but at least I won’t be eating any of it!

The butternut and acorn squash plants get wilty in the middle of the day, but perk back up overnight. We thought it might be bugs, but I really think it’s the heat. I’ve gone to watering the entire garden three times a week instead of two, because we haven’t gotten rain in weeks.

Morning Glory, vining up one of the squash plants. Fred hates Morning Glories, but I think they’re pretty and I don’t yank them out of the garden because I like seeing them!

Muscadines (wild grapes).

We’re gonna get a bumper crop this year. Last year I made a batch of Muscadine jam with them. I’m not sure what I’ll be making this year, since I don’t think we ate any of the jam. It’s funny how much jam I make, given that we don’t eat much in the course of a year.

Muscadine vine. I love vines. Is that odd?

“Thanks for watering the garden, lady. I needed a bath!”

Someone ought to prune that pecan tree. (That red shed is the garden shed. This would be an ideal place for a hammock, if we had one.)

There’s just nothing funnier than a running chicken.

The Rock Star (she’s a Golden Polish) is the absolute prettiest chicken we have, if you ask me. I love her colors.

This little rooster’s pretty, too.

She’s also pretty. I guess we have a bunch of pretty chickens.

The rooster counterpart to the hen in the previous picture.

Oh, Gracie. It’s a bale of STRAW. (Fred put it there to block the hole in the fence that the chickens were going through.) I don’t know what was freaking her out – there wasn’t a HOSE there or anything.

Two girl piggies in the waller.

Happy George.

I love vines, but that Wisteria vine, reaching across three feet of space to grab onto the back yard fence? Maybe not so much.

Someone mentioned last week that they’d like to have a “sounds of Crooked Acres” week, where I post videos of, oh, the chickens and the pigs and what have you. I thought about doing that this week, but I never did get outside with my camera to make the videos, so to tide you over ’til I do get that accomplished, I’m posting some older videos.

First, a couple of chicken videos.

Those are both from around 2007 – 2008. This last one was shot in 2008, and is a visit in the chicken yard, and you get to see the pigs, too.

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Harlan keeps an eye on the feather teaser.

These kittens are the standing-up balancingest kittens I’ve ever seen.

“Come HERE, feather teaser.”

Sally’s all “Get it! GET IT!”

Whoa!

So close and yet so far.

“Watch me, ladies. I’ll get it!”

“Oh, right, you got that one, didn’t you? I’m SO impressed.”
“Shut UP, I don’t see YOU getting it either!”

Lucy’s face is cracking me UP. She is clearly SO over me and my shenanigans.

I let Elwood in to meet the Peppers a few days ago. He was unimpressed, as you’ll see.

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Kara, snoozing on the dryer.

“What are you doing out here? You don’t belong outside! Get back inside, it’s safer!”

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Previously
2010: Jake of the l’Unervilles.
2009: Jon Armstrong was all “HEATHER INVENTED MAYTAG WHEN SHE WASN’T BUSY INVENTING BLOGGING AND BEING THE FIRST EVER TO EXPERIENCE NATURAL CHILDBIRTH.”
2008: I know. I’m an unreasonable monster.
2007: No entry.
2006: The truth is, Fred has been excitedly pricing tractors every minute of every day since our offer on the house was accepted.
2005: Ahhhhh, smell that fresh, crisp autumn air! Why, it’s down to 90 degrees today. I almost need a sweater.
2004: She turned 86 last Thursday. She’s the only grandparent I’ve ever really known.
2003: (and you KNOW he insisted on it, was all temper tantrumy, screaming and beating his fists on the floor, wailing “ACTOR AND NOVELIST! ACTOR AND NOVELIST!”)
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.