Category: Crooked Acres

Maxie asked yesterday whether those of you not in Alabama can sign the petitions I linked to, since they’re an Alabama thing. The answer is that I don’t know if your signatures will count, but they certainly won’t hurt!

You can sign the petitions to stop the Alabama State Board of Veterinary Medical Examiners from shutting down spay/neuter clinics here and here.

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.

I finally got around to putting feed bags (empty feed bags that once held chicken and pig feed) around the butternut and acorn squash, and putting dried grass clippings around each plant (to block weeds). I only got a little more than half the row done before I ran out of grass, though. When Fred got home yesterday, he went around the lawn with the sweeper and got me another big pile of grass clippings, so I should be able to finish up the row.

Wee Acorn or Butternut squash-to-be.

Look at all the blossoms getting ready to burst forth!

This volunteer tomato plant grew on the fenceline to the back forty. It keeps trying to die, but then it rains, and the plant comes back to life. Note that there are no tomatoes at all on the side of the fence the chickens can get to!

The Autumn Clematis are super happy.

We’re really getting a lot of blooms on the Rose of Sharon bush in the back yard. In past years, we’ve gotten maybe one or two.

Four years ago, all this foliage (except for the tree branches hanging down) was completely gone. Every summer I cut less and less of it back, and this summer I haven’t cut any of it back. The cats really like hanging out in there – though I guess it would behoove me to cut it back a bit so that when Tommy’s being difficult and doesn’t want to come in at night, we can reach him. You’ll note that the purple blooms in the middle of the picture are the Rose of Sharon flowers. That thing’s over six feet tall now.

I finally got enough tomatoes (thank you, Katherine!) to peel and (mostly) deseed, chop, and slow-roast them with onion and garlic for three hours. I used the pastry cutter to chop the whole mess up, and then used it as a base for spaghetti sauce. It was DIVINE.

Left to right, cayenne powder made from our own peppers, tomato powder made from our own tomatoes, and dehydrated bell peppers. (I use the tomato powder to make tomato paste – basically, add water to tomato powder until you have as much paste as you need.)

That green tomato, with just a blush of red on it, is how I harvest my tomatoes. Then I leave them on the counter and let them ripen (if I have a lot of tomatoes that need to ripen, I put them all in a box. They ripen faster that way, and don’t clutter up my counter). If I try to let them ripen on the vine, the STUPID birds and squirrels take a single bite and leave the tomato there for me to find and gnash my teeth over.

New growth on the grapevine.

Bhut Jolokia (Ghost) Peppers, starting to ripen. “What are you going to do with the Ghost peppers?” I said to Fred. Apparently what Fred was planning to do with them was expect me to make jams with them. Who on earth is going to buy Ghost Pepper jam? Only a sucker for punishment, I think. (He’s also planning to make a hot sauce. I’m letting him handle that one all on his own.)

After the heavy rain we had the week before last, we had about a million cracked cherry tomatoes. Grrr. (The chickens got them, and were very happy about it!)

I continue to think that okra flowers are the prettiest flowers on earth.

Ready to be picked so it can ripen on my counter!

Teeny watermelon-to-be.

Watermelon flowers.

Not a great picture, but I’ve been making a lot of blueberry cake lately (I’ll post the recipe if I remember). The recipe comes from a Marjorie Standish cook book my mother gave me 20+ years ago. If I could only pick one cook book to carry out of a burning building, that would be the one. (Oh wait, this is the recipe right here. DO NOT cook it for 50 – 60 minutes, or you’ll end up with an overcooked cake. Start checking it with a toothpick at 40 minutes, but 45 minutes is what works for me.)

I love this spoon rest; I used a plate hanger to hang it between the windows over the sink. I keep hoping to find something else to hang there with it, but haven’t found anything that’s the right size yet.

Sweet pickled jalapenos.

These okra pods were too long to use (if they get too long, they get tough and woody), so I dehydrated them for the cats. Cats think okra pods are THE BOMB, and once they’re dry enough, the seeds rattle around in the pod. I think I still have pods floating around the house from two summers ago.

I think this hen is particularly pretty.

Gracie’s keeping an eye on things from under the coop, where it’s cool.

All our chickens except for two or three who were behind me.

Little rooster.

“You haz a snack for me?”

“GIMME MAH SNACK!”

“….please?”

“Dat was a good snack.”

Happy George.

The chickens sure do love their tomatoes.

Smilin’ girlie pig.

Napping in the waller.

Pig #2 comes over to see if a snack was given, and if so WHERE IS HERS.

“No cookies here.”
“You’re lying, I smell chocolate on your snout.”

Across the way, there’s a perfectly good waller located in the shade. The last two sets of pigs have refused to set hoof in that one, and I have no idea why. Maybe the Loch Ness monster has relocated to the Crooked Acres Waller.

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After I wrote about Sally Peppers being such a scaredy cat, yesterday I went into the guest bedroom to hang out with the kittens, who were all snoozing on the cat tree. Sally Peppers immediately jumped from the cat tree to the bed where I was laying, and snuggled with me with not the slightest hint of cringing or cowering. Harlan’s still a bit cringe-y, and none of them like it if you’re standing up and reach down to pick them up, but they’re a million times less scared than they were two weeks ago, for sure.

Lucy Peppers, hanging out.

Snoozin’ Molly.

Harlan, Molly, and Everett like to squeeze onto the same platform.

Sally and Everett apparently see a crazed serial killer over my shoulder. Or nothing. They’re not sure what the difference is.

You can’t see them all, but Molly Peppers actually has hold of three toys. She wants ALL the toys.

Harlan and Lucy came to investigate, and Molly let out a fearsome growl. She’s a growler when she thinks anyone’s trying to take anything away from her.

Smilin’ Molly.

Serious Molly.

Lucy (left) and Sally, annoyed at having their conversation interrupted.

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“Who, ME?”

I love it when they lay froggy-style.

“Who loves me enough to come scrape this eye booger out of my eye?”

I kiss Ciara 10,000 times a day, especially when she gives me this look.

Last night, after we’d put Ciara, Clove, Cori and Cilantro in the foster room, one of them (I suspect Cilantro) began meowing sadly at the door. Instead of ignoring it as we usually do, we decided to let them back out and see how it went.

I did not sleep well, is how it went. If I wasn’t woken up by Cilantro vigorously licking my feet, I was awakened by Clove chasing her tail or Cori attacking my feet. I haven’t decided if we’ll give it a try again tonight, or just ignore the sad meowing. Mama needs her sleep, you know.

Edited to add: I just got the word – there’s room at Petsmart for Ciara and the Spice Girls. They’ll be going Friday morning!

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“Hey! You’re not allowed outside the back yard! Get back in here where Sheriff Mama can adequately protect you!”

::giving me the I’m-not-kidding look::

“I SAID, get back in here!”

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Previously
2010: When I see this picture, I can absolutely understand why Fred initially thought that Martin was a baby possum when he saw him sitting under the bush at the side of the house.
2009: They’re blue. They’re brothers. They’re Jake and Elwood.
2008: YES THAT’S RIGHT I SAID SIX-THIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME.
2007: No entry.
2006: He truly amazes me.
2005: If I insert a brillo pad into my ear, will it eventually get to my brain and scrub that song out, or is that an urban myth?
2004: You know, I’m getting PRETTY FRICKIN’ TIRED of finding cricket legs all over the damn place.
2003: “Mother,” said the spud, “That is an excellent idea, for I am going to melt into a motherfucking puddle of goo in about 10 seconds.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: In the future, the spud will be cleaning her own bedroom, since I took one look at her room and said “Fuck THIS.”

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Every now and then, when a young hen starts laying, we get one of these teeny eggs (next to a regular-sized egg for reference). Also every now and then, sometimes I clean the counter before I take pictures of things sitting on it. Not this time, though! (Because I know you’re wondering, when the tiny egg is cracked open, it’s usually mostly egg white, with a tiny splotch of egg yolk in there.)

Why on earth would I grab a rag and wipe that counter down? I’ve got things to do, pictures to take! Someone wanted to see what a dehydrated cherry tomato looks like. That dehydrated tomato is only a half, though, so I probably should have cut that un-dehydrated cherry tomato in half for a better reference. Wouldn’t that have been organized of me?

This is one pound of cherry (mostly Sungold) tomatoes.

And this is one pound of cherry tomatoes, sliced in half and put on the dehydrator tray.

One pound of cherry tomatoes, dehydrated!

These are one-gallon sized jars with (left to right) dehydrated, shredded zucchini, sliced yellow squash and zucchini, and the cherry tomatoes I’ve dehydrated thus far. I ended up with a total of 1 & 3/4 jars of the sliced yellow squash and zucchini, and what you see in the picture is what I have of the dehydrated zucchini and tomatoes, or what I had of the tomatoes when I snapped that picture. Below is an updated picture once I added the five pounds that were in the dehydrator to the jar.

Fifteen pounds of dehydrated cherry tomatoes. How much does 15 pounds of cherry tomatoes weigh when they’re dehydrated? 15 1/2 ounces!

The Rose of Sharon bush in the back yard is blooming. I think they have just about the prettiest flowers ever.

Look at all those Ghost peppers! They’re loving the heat this summer.

Tabasco peppers!

This year we’re growing Butternut and Acorn squash. That empty space to the left is where the corn was growing, until Fred harvested it all last week.

Gracie, staying cool under the coop (but keeping an eye on her flock!)

They are just unbearably cute at this gawky stage.

Little roosters, both with feathered legs.

Big Daddy.

“You can’t see me.”

Startled pig, skipping to safety.

This wallow is 100% pig-dug. There’s a perfectly good wallow on the other side of the yard, in shade, but the last set of pigs dug a small wallow here (I think because it’s where the water tends to run when we’re emptying waterers), and these girls have at least doubled the size of it in the last couple of weeks. The girls do love their mud.

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Despite her grumpy looks, it turns out that Ciara is a snuggler.

Ciara and Clove.

Clove loves that catnip carrot like nothing else on earth.

Ciara, Clove, and Elwood, hanging out in the hall outside the guest bedroom door, wondering why they’re not allowed in the guest bedroom. Ever met a cat that DIDN’T want to be on the other side of a closed door? Me neither.

Ciara and Cilantro. Cilantro’s smile is cracking me UP.

Ciara and Cilantro, again.

Poor Ciara, so annoyed. (For the record, Spanky was there first!)

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Stinkerbelle, on the stairs. Now that the Spice Girls and Ciara are out in the house for most of the day, Stinkerbelle likes to go up and hang out on the cat tree in the foster room. I imagine she thinks of that room as home base.

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Previously
2010: But just in case they need to go soon, Elwood will make sure that Bolitar is shined up and ready to go.
2009: I deserve a Nobel peace prize or something.
2008: This is MY SITE.
2007: No entry.
2006: I reflected for a moment that I wasn’t hovering over him in the dead of night, so I didn’t know how I could have possibly scared him.
2005: See that? I made a thinly veiled joke about his age! I am SO FUNNY!
2004: As for where the odd socks go – the bad ones go to hell, don’t they?
2003: Oui, I am back! Let the rejoicing begin!
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: So we were at the beach this morning by 10.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Our first ripe cantaloupe! Better than the ones from the grocery store, according to Fred.

Okra, sliced and about to go into the freezer. Once they were frozen, I poured them into a bag. This winter I’ll lay them on a cookie sheet, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and roast at 425 for 10 – 15 minutes.

My counter, such a mess. This picture is to show you that we’re getting tons of Sungold cherry tomatoes. That’s a pint jar in the bowl, for reference. Next year I’m growing ONE row of tomatoes, and I plan for half that row to be comprised of Sungolds. They’re the best cherry tomatoes you’ll ever eat, sweartogod.

Hanging on the refrigerator, between the lid from the box of L’Oreal with which I color my hair and the very long feather from the rooster’s tail (we found it in the chicken yard, didn’t pluck it from him) is a little bundle of catnip. I cut some off the catnip plant in the raised bed garden and hung it on the fridge to dry. Fred came downstairs yesterday morning to find Sugarbutt leaned over the top of the fridge, rubbing his whiskers on the bundle. He’s a total ‘niphead.

I love snarky magnets.

Honestly, this one should say “Excuse the mess, we have cats and can never have ANYTHING nice.”

Scoop! Hands! (If you’re very nice, I’ll repost my post this weekend about the many things you can do with Scoop! Hands!)

Hydrangeas are such drama queens. “GASP! I’m DYING! I’m THIRSTY! Please WATER ME!”

Our garden wagon. It comes in SO handy (it’s bigger than it looks!) and the thing I like best about it is that the back lifts up so you can dump whatever you have in the wagon wherever you want it to go. This comes in especially hand when I’ve used my Scoop! Hands! to pick up the pile of leaves and sticks by the side porch, and want to dump it all on the compost heap.

Autumn Clematis is starting to bloom!

Baby pecans are continuing to grow. I hope we get a good crop this year – it’s been two years since we got a decent crop, and we’re about to run out!

The wisteria’s doing its best to invade the back yard. We’ll keep cutting it back, it’ll keep growing. One day when we’re very old, we’ll give up and the wisteria will cover the house in one short summer, I bet.

Anybody know what those little black things are? Fred thinks maybe aphids. That’s one of our grape vines. Whatever those little black things are, the ants like them – in the morning, there’s a long line of ants crawling up that vine.

The watermelon plants (there are three) in the raised bed/ straw bale, are making a run for the border.

I posted these pictures small so that you big babies out there won’t have to look too closely and can just skip down to the next picture. What we have here is some sort of waspy sort of insect. I was out checking my raised garden, and this was hanging out on the purslane. When I looked closer, he appeared to be eating some sort of grub, and when I got even closer (but not too close, because waspy sort of insects scare me) I could see him holding what looked like a small tomato hornworm. So if you click on any of those pictures, you can go to Flickr and see them larger. Who can tell me what that waspy thing is?

Catnip!

The jalapenos have been coming in like gangbusters. Yesterday I made seven or eight (I don’t remember offhand) pints of sweet pickled jalapenos!

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Cori, hanging out on the window sill.

Cilantro (left) and Ciara on the couch.

“What? I’m working on my tan!”

Cori’s spotted the birds.

Ciara always looks so appalled.

This picture makes me laugh.

Cori always makes herself at home.

Ciara, appalled again.

Sweet Miss Clove.

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Joe Bob (alternate name: Joseph Robert McGee, when he’s being bad) is such a sweet boy.

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Previously
2010: Everybody loves Martin.
2009: Maddy does not approve of this “Twitter” nonsense.
2008: Oh tomatoes, how you PISS ME OFF.
2007: No entry.
2006: Y’all are good for my yellow ego!
2005: Maine recap.
2004: Hawaii recap.
2003: Maine recap.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: The cats are suddenly deciding to take closed doors as a personal affront.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Katherine asked if I’d take a picture of my watermelon with something next to it for size reference. I couldn’t think of what to use, so I went into the kitchen and looked around.

That last one is the biggest watermelon we have at the moment. We, of course, do not know what kind of watermelon we’re growing, because we’re terrible gardeners and like to do everything in a flailing and disorganized manner. (That’s a Thomas Everything Bagel for size reference.)

Oven-fried green tomatoes (using this recipe). We’ve been eating a lot of these lately.

I’ve never seen the Wisteria (the vines crawling across the ground) as aggressive as it is this year.

Wee eggplant.

Definitely a Bhut Jolokia “Ghost” pepper.

Sungold cherry tomatoes. I’m not having a lot of luck with the full-sized tomatoes this year (to be honest, I’ve never had a decent year with the full-sized tomatoes!), they’re all cracking due to uneven watering (blame Mother Nature for that!). Next year, I am growing ONE row of tomatoes and most of them are going to be Sungolds, because they’re our favorite!

The pepper plants are happy.

Corn’s getting tall – hopefully we get lots of corn this year (last year we didn’t).

In my experimental raised-bed garden:

Carrots in the center, a potted Meyer Lemon tree in that pot, and in the back left catnip!

Watermelon plants in the raised bed/ straw bale experiment. They seem happy, but I think next year I’m going to save my raised beds for herbs, and grow things like watermelons in the big garden.

In the back yard, Fred dragged these pieces of the fallen tree in the back forty into the back yard (using the tractor). There are no cats in this picture, but they hang out there a lot. See the metal around the tree to the far left? Fred put that up so that the cats wouldn’t climb up into that tree and scare me to death.

Blueberry bushes, getting bigger! And in the background, compost bins.

Dehydrated zucchini and yellow squash.

Butterfly in the chicken yard.

George, you are such a slacker.

One thing that brings them out from under the coop: snack time!

::chompchompchomp::

George lets his Alabama roots shine through.

“You haz a snack for me?”

Keeping an eye on stuff.

Remember the bagel I used up there for size comparison with the watermelons? The chickens found it tasty. They love their carbs.

They also love tomatoes.

Chicken George and her baby.

“What are you DOING over there, kid?”

Young Brahma hen.

I think that black chicken in the front is absolutely gorgeous.

The rooster keeping an eye on his wimmin.

Mama and babies.

The chickens have their own waterers, but of course they prefer the dogs’ water dishes.

Is it just me, or does this look like a Charlie’s Angels pose?

“GIVE. US. COOOOOOOKIE!”

I always worry that they’ll figure out how to climb that gate.

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The good news is that Declan was adopted Tuesday evening! That leaves Maggie and Fergus Simon, and of course Ciara is still here with us. She’s going to just stay here with us until it’s time for the Spice Girls to go to Petsmart, and then she’ll go with them.

Ciara shows her attitude.

Ciara smiles.

Vampire kitty is thirsty.

Smilin’ Cori.

All three Spice Girls, giving me attitude.

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Maxi likes to hang out by the tomato heap.

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Previously
2010: “Momma! Momma! MOMMAAAAAA!”
2009: (Don’t answer that. Let me live in my dream world.)
2008: Out of curiosity – anyone still think we won’t eat those pigs?
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: Handwritten.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Jemima J.

Scenes from around Crooked Acres.

Green beans. I spent two and a half hours working in the garden yesterday morning and ended up with a bucket of green beans and two rows of heavily pruned tomatoes. I have more pruning to do and some other odds and ends, so it’s another gardening morning for me, SIGH.

Cantaloupe!

That’s our very happy row of cantaloupes and watermelons! To the right at the end of the row is where our cucumbers are growing, and to the left are squash plants that desperately need to be weeded (but don’t hold your breath).

We may get a couple of peaches this year, yet.

One of the tomatoes I pulled to feed to the chickens. Chickens LOVE tomatoes, and so they get all the tomatoes that are seriously cracked or have a lot of worm holes. A couple of days ago I spotted a tomato that had a single bite taken out of it. I really need to get a game cam set up on the garden so I can see exactly what goes through there!

Okra flower. These are the prettiest flowers, probably my favorite. Too bad they grow into okra and didn’t just stay pretty flowers!

Squash flower.

Pattypan squash and a visiting spider.

Watermelon!

Watermelon flower.

I like the pattypan squash because I think they look cool. They’re a pain in the butt to deal with, though.

Jalapeno.

Cayennes. I pick them when they’re ripe, dry them in the dehydrator, and then grind them into powder.

Pretty sure this is going to end up a Bhut Jolokia “Ghost” pepper, which is the hottest pepper in the world, or so I’m told. Given that even jalapenos are too hot for me, I don’t intend to partake of any of the Ghost peppers, thank you.

Rows of tomatoes. To the left are peppers. To the right is a half row of tomatoes, and at the end of that row are the eggplants.

Eggplant!

On our fantabulous compost heap, which is covered with huge tomato plants, this watermelon plant all of a sudden showed up. God bless the compost heap!

George comes out from under the chicken coop to see if perhaps I have a snack for him.

Slacker puppy. Doesn’t he look just a bit embarrassed?

Mama hen and her two babies.

Chickens LOVE tomatoes.

Gatherin’ ’round for tomato time.

He’s hit that gawky stage.

Two girl piggies in the wallow, and the third headed that way – ’til they saw me, of course.

“You haz snack for us?” Not this time, girls, sorry.

In the front room is a fireplace that we don’t use. Up in that fireplace is a ledge. Back when Kara was our foster, she disappeared one day and I was frantic, sure she’d gotten outside and ran away. Then she reappeared. Then she disappeared. Then I saw her coming out of the fireplace. She doesn’t hang out up there any more, but apparently Elwood figured out that he could hang out on that ledge (he cannot climb any further up the chimney, though, if he could, we’d block it off). Last night, Fred realized that Elwood was hanging out up there. I’m sure it was cooler up there than in the rest of the house!

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Little ladies love them some Macushla. He’s such a ladies’ man.

Clove and Maggie.

Sweet, silly Declan.

Clearly the McMaos were fond of this bed!

Maggie and Macushla.

Clove and Cilantro. I love their stripes and spots!

Macushla, laying like a frog. I love it when they lay like this.

Bed full o’ McMaos.

Sweet Miss Clove.

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Kara on her platform in the back yard.

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Previously
2010: Take THAT, bad boys.
2009: That right there is what we call a “no-shitter.”
2008: All in all, a very good weekend.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: It doesn’t have that ring of finality to it, that “I’m ending this goddamn email, see?” air.
2004: Why the fucking hell shouldn’t men cheat on beautiful women?
2003: Could I be more boring, yammering on about my email address?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I guess I should clean under the couch a little more often, huh?

Thanks, all y’all who emailed me about it. That is, in fact, my picture that was posted on I Can Has Cheezburger yesterday.

Lolcats and funny pictures

That’s Flossie, from my very first litter of fosters, six years ago.

I can’t believe it’s been six years!

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.
(Just a few pics this week – I need to get out with the camera more often!)

This little sunflower popped up under one of the bird feeders. That is one happy looking flower.

Happy Gracie.

Gracie at snack time.

George, heading for the coop. During the hottest part of the day, George and Gracie hang out under the coop.

If they weren’t so cute, we wouldn’t always feel the need to pick them up. It’s their own fault!

I think this one is particularly pretty.

Birds of a feather flock together. Or hang out and watch the other birds go by. Whatevs.

During a particularly dry spell, I took this garbage can lid (which actually goes with the garbage can in the back yard where Elwood snoozes during the day) and turned it over, then filled it with water. Perfect bird bath for the birds, right? Yeah, what a shock – Newt and Maxi were drinking out of it more than any ol’ birds.

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“Whyyyyyy are you over there and taking my piiiiiiicture and not over heeeeeere and petting meeeeee?”

“I know I’m your favorite, right? ::wink:: ”
Of course, sweet Cilantro.

Looks like Cilantro’s amused by something, and Clove’s just like “Fine. WHATEVERRRR. ::huff:: ”

Apparently there’s SOMEthing amazing going on.

Got so hot, the durn kitten melted right out the bed. Flat-out tragedy, is what it is.
(Doesn’t Declan have the most fabulous stripes?)

“What’s HIS problem?”
“What isn’t? He’s one of the grumpy ones. 37 smacks. He gave Declan 37 smacks yesterday.”
“In a row?”

“Hey! You! GUYS! Finnie-mini done had a snort of the ‘nip and I NEEDS A SNUGGLE. Come on, who wantsa snuggle? ::hic:: ”

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“You can’t see me.”

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Previously
2010: Tom Cullen: Simply Flabulous.
2009: We are some squash-loving motherfuckers.
2008: Here’s a tip: if someone teases you about being a Housewife of Doom and a perfectionist, it is difficult to refute that assertion if you’re caught in a compromising position.
2007: No entry.
2006: Damn freaky cats.
2005: “It’s cancer,” Fred said. “That’s a tumorous lip if I’ve ever seen one!”
2004: I didn’t tell her that I think scars are badass and it can scar up all it wants.
2003: God, I hate people.
2002: No entry.
2001: So the house situation, oh what a story it is.
2000: This week, the devil won.

©Lisa

I’ve been terribly remiss in announcing this. Remember Newman from way back at the end of March? You might not, because I only mentioned him the once – at that time, we were waiting for Maggie to drop those babies, and Rufus out running around the house. So once Newman was tested and neutered, he went to the shelter to be treated for parasites. Everyone who got to meet him invariably said that he was an awesome cat. A few weeks ago, he went to Petsmart.

Well, last week Lisa sent me the picture above, with the subject “Guess who got adopted!” Then a few days later, the lady who adopted Newman sent an update email to the shelter:

I adopted Newman from Petsmart on Tuesday, and I just wanted to send a short update email. He is doing great! We haven’t yet introduced him to the other cats in the household, but he is doing fine in my room / the adjoining game room. He’s using the litterbox fine, eating well and drinking. He does a good job of entertaining himself when we are gone. He seems to really like the scratching post and his various mice/feather toys. He’s very cuddly and sleeps at my feet, and he loves to lick while being petted. When we leave during the day, if it isn’t going to be too hot I leave the window open (there is a mesh protective layer so that he can’t get through) and he likes to sit on the windowsill and smell the scents and hear the birds. The only “problem” we had was that after eating, he tried to “bury” his food and water bowls with the towel upon which they were sitting, resulting in the towel repeatedly soaking up all his water. This was less of a problem and more of an adorable behavior, so we just removed the towel and he has learned that the carpet won’t budge. Haha! 🙂

Anyways, we are loving Newman, and he has never shown any sign of being afraid or unhappy or disturbed by the move. Quite the contrary, he seems very happy and rambunctious!

Don’t you love a happy ending? I sure do!

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Sights from around Crooked Acres

The former compost heap, current tomato heap. I harvested the first tomato from those plants yesterday – just a cherry tomato – and ate it last night with dinner!

One of the Mums I tossed last Fall when (I thought) it was mostly dead. It THRIVED on the compost heap. You can’t tell how big it is, but it’s HUGE. If I can keep the tomato plants from smothering it, I’ll dig it up this Fall and put it on the front porch.

Baby pecans. Hopefully they’ll keep doing well, and we’ll be able to harvest them this Fall. It’s been three years since our last harvest, and we’re running low on them!

This is what I love the most about vining plants – the little, fragile-looking (but tenacious) vines that reach out and grab hold. This one was from one of the muscadine vines.

We are going to have approximately one bazillion muscadines this year. Last year I used the pulp from our small batch of muscadines to make muscadine jam. This year, we may have enough so that I can make jelly. (If we were wine drinkers, I might try my hand at muscadine wine! But alas we are not.)

We might get at least ONE apple this year!

The corn’s getting tall – a couple of them are taller than I am (I’m 5 feet, 5 inches tall, for the record).

Cucumber vine.

Busy busy bees fertilizing those squash blossoms.

Jalapenos!

Eggplant. We’ve only got three or four eggplants planted this year. I’m not a huge fan of the eggplant.

The cherry tomatoes in the garden have finally started to ripen!

Volunteer tomato plant, among the carrots. It’s already got a couple of cherry tomatoes coming along, and it’s only about four inches tall!

Cauliflower, eaten alive. I finally yanked them up.

Part of the harvest from one day last week – cucumber, zucchini, pattypan squash.

More cucumbers.

And green beans, of course.

We’ve been eating a LOT of oven-fried zucchini, squash, and green tomatoes. I used to use this recipe, but now I just mix equal amounts of cornmeal, flour, and parmesan cheese, and keep a container of it in the fridge at all times. We don’t keep buttermilk on hand, so I just use skim milk instead.

Maxi likes to help in the garden.

We had three broody hens, sitting on 18 eggs between the three of them. TWO eggs hatched, and both chicks decided this hen was their mother. (The second chick, a little yellow one, was under the hen’s wing when I snapped this picture.)

Last year we had a similarly miserable hatching experience and swore we’d never let broody hens sit on eggs when it gets this hot. But did we remember that this year? Of course not. Grrrr.

Three little girly pigs, standing next to one of their wallows. I HATE that it’s got that gross green stuff growing in it, and whenever I go out there, I stir up the water with a long stick, but once the water settles, the green stuff is right on top again. It doesn’t bother the pigs, but I hate how evil and fluorescent it looks.

“You has a cookie for me?”

“COOKIES PLEASE.”

I made a movie of the pigs at cookie time. You’ll see that rather than shying away from Fred when he hands out the cookies, two of the girls would CUT each other to get their cookie first. As it turns out, the biggest pig is also the most gentle and patiently waits her turn. Good piggeh.

George loves his rawhide bone.

Happy pup.

::chomp::

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Declan loves his Mama.

Macushla.

The Spice Girls love them some Macushla.

Also some Declan.

Please note that none of Finnegan’s paws is actually ON the floor.

Hovercat.

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Your weekly reminder: Corbie is beautiful. That is all.

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Previously
2010: “He was skeery.”
2009: The shit that is PISSING ME OFF these days.
2008: I’ve warned Nance that the house is a pig sty, but I don’t think she believes me.
2007: No entry.
2006: Must be ’cause I’m so approachable.
2005: Hobbies.
2004: Fred calls Miz Poo “Musty.”
2003: He sighed. “Because everybody knows that 256 (the total number of pages in the book) is 2 to the 8th, which is 2 to the 6th times two squared, which is 64 times 4, so you should print four blocks of 64 pages.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Folks, it’s Dumbass Day.

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

Carrots. I think they’ve got about another month to go before they’ll be ready. I don’t know what we’ll end up with – they probably needed to be thinned. I was none too careful when I scattered the seeds.

Catnip! I transplanted these plants from pots. Hopefully they’ll spread like crazy. They certainly have the room now.

Cauliflower and brussels sprouts – and a couple of volunteer tomato plants. I don’t know that I’m going to get any cauliflower OR brussels sprouts, but the plants certainly look happy (if kind of chewed upon.)

Bale gardening with tomato plants.

Bale gardening with watermelon.

Blueberries! I ate one the other day and it was mighty good.

Grape vine.

Mimosa in bloom, near the garden. These sure are pretty trees.

Just about ready to pick and eat. One tiny cherry tomato isn’t all that filling, though. I wish the others would ripen already.

When it gets a bit bigger, we’ll have (oven) fried green tomato with dinner.

Tiny green beans!

Tomatoes on the left and right – and a nice thick layer of grass clippings in the middle to keep out the weeds.

Baby robins in the tree in the front yard. Fred peeks at them every day. Yesterday he decided they were dying because they hadn’t gotten any water (it’s been super dry around here), and so he syringe fed each of them water while their mother watched closely from a nearby branch. And then he went around with the shovel digging up worms. He fed a few worms to the babies, and then he tossed the rest to their mother, who snatched them up and fed them to her babies.

They came down our road last week and picked up the cut up trees that were knocked down by the tornado. They’ll be back through in a few weeks to get the rest, which Fred still needs to drag from the chicken yard.

This tree, clearly dead, is from the back of the back forty. I’m amazed the winds from the tornado didn’t knock it down.

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Gracie loves to be brushed.

I know this is George because I can see the dip in his back. He’s longer than Gracie and thus has a dip in his back whereas she doesn’t.

::Phblllt::

Laughing at his own joke.

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“He SAID that?!”
“Yeah, can you believe it?”

“He’s got some NERVE.”
“I know, right?”

“I can’t believe it. What a JERK.”
“I know!”

“I never liked the looks of him anyway. He looks like a sleazy jerk.”

“He said WHAT?!”

“I meant it as a COMPLIMENT!”

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Fergus Simon tried to flirt with Miz Poo, but she was having none of it.

“She’s purrrrty.”

Sleepy Macushla.

Cillian adores a good belly rub.

Fergus Simon on the cat tree in the front room.

FS in motion.

If you look carefully, you’ll note that all six McMao kids are in this picture.

Someone asked about this set of steps recently. I conceived of them (“We need steps or something so the little ones can get up on the bed!”) and after much harassment from me, Fred built them. They’re probably a little steep, but I wanted something that didn’t have a very big footprint. He put partial risers between each step so that the kittens can actually use them to get up to the next step if they’re very small kittens.

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Maggie’s been spending the nights with her own babies for the past three or four nights. She still goes in to visit with the Spice Girls for a few hours each day, but I haven’t actually witnessed any nursing lately. Which isn’t to say that it’s not happening, it very well might be. I just haven’t seen it, so I don’t know for sure.

“Hi. HI! Hi.”

Cilantro in mid-fall, I think. I do believe she grabbed for a toy I was dangling over her head, but missed. That or she’s high on catnip. Either is equally likely.

Clove, complaining.

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Spanky say, relax.

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Previously
2010: By the side door lives a container of cheap cat food.
2009: Then we had dessert.
2008: Something about the nickname “Angry Eyes” just makes me laugh and laugh.
2007: No entry.
2006: Anatomy of a Snooze
2005: This is the story of how my husband is a fucker.
2004: As you can imagine, I’m in a REALLY good mood.
2003: After much persuasion, he confessed that he’d seen the movie ratings poster on the wall and thought there was going to be a movie about the ratings system.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: When I think about the incredibly stupid things I did as a teen, it makes me cringe.