Yesterday morning, I got up when it was still dark out* and took my shower, scooped the litter boxes, and started a load of laundry. I put collars on all the cats who require them, and then I opened the back door. As usual, Tommy and Sugarbutt shoved past me to go out the door, … Continue reading “3-11-09”
Yesterday morning, I got up when it was still dark out* and took my shower, scooped the litter boxes, and started a load of laundry. I put collars on all the cats who require them, and then I opened the back door. As usual, Tommy and Sugarbutt shoved past me to go out the door, and when I glanced out into the back yard, Newt had frozen by the back steps with something small and dead in his mouth.
“You BETTER not think you’re bringing that in here!” I said to him, and he eyed Tommy and Sugarbutt, who were approaching him with great interest, and he growled and ran across the yard, climbed over the fence, and ran under the blue chicken coop with his dead thing.
(Newt and Maxi both like to carry their kills under the blue chicken coop to eat them. I can only imagine what it looks like under there these days.)
Later, I was sitting at my computer when I happened to glance into the back yard and saw a gathering of cats near the fence on the garden side of the back yard. As I watched, Kara darted forward and snatched up something the size of a small kitten.
I ran to the back door, shoved my feet in my shoes, and ran into the back yard.
“No!” I yelled. “Drop it!” Then I began chasing Kara, who had no intention of dropping the vole she had. I chased her around the clump of daffodils, and when she acted as though she was thinking about running into the house, I decided a better course of action would be to close the back door, so I ran over and did that.
When I went back toward Kara, she dropped the vole momentarily, and I hoped that the damn thing would run through the fence and disappear, but it ran a few slow steps, and then she grabbed it again. I was finally able to pick her up, and I carried her – vole still in her mouth – to the fence, where I shook her and firmly said “DROP IT.”
She did, and the vole ran (slowly) through the fence and into the side yard. I watched, hoping it would pick up speed and disappear behind the garage, but it just kind of moseyed slowly along. I went through the gate, hoping to kind of herd it away from the side yard (I didn’t really want to see Maxi or Newt snatch it up and carry it under the Death Coop), and it slowly moseyed over to a nearby tree and got itself trapped in a hollow in the trunk.
And then my assimilation into country life became complete. Because two years ago when I first moved here, I would have squealed and run around in circles at the idea of touching a damn vole, no matter how cute they are. This time, I sighed and gave up, reached down, and picked the goddamn thing up by the tail. Then I carried it behind the workshop and put it down in a pile of leaves and watched it slowly mosey into the wooded area beyond the ditch.
*I know a lot of people hate the time change in the Spring, but I don’t, because it means that it stays light out ’til almost 7:00 in the evening, and instead of eating dinner, putting up the chickens and then refusing to leave the house again until the next morning, Fred is occasionally willing to go places instead of worrying about being home in time to lock the chickens in their coop. Why, Monday evening we met someone in Nearville who wanted to buy eggs for hatching, and then we had dinner, and Fred didn’t have to fret even once. (Nance calls it “Fredding.” HA.)
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Speaking of voles and mice and such, on Sunday afternoon Fred decided to hook up the mower to the tractor and cut the weeds in the back forty. When he was hooking up the mower, first one and then another mouse came skittering out of the inside of the mower. He decided to take the cover off the mower and make sure there wasn’t a nest in there or anything, and he came inside to tell me, so I could come watch.
When he got the cover off, he found a nest inside the mower, and in the nest was a small mouse – and there were a couple of bigger mice in there as well.
They certainly were cute.
Fred took the nest out of the mower and put it in a corner of the shed, and I found another (empty) nest by some fencing in another corner.
I guess if mice can’t nest in a garden shed, where can they?
And did I mention that they’re awfully cute?
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“I has my Reese’s peanut butter eggs, I has my eggshells, and I has my John Deere cup. What more does a Suggie need?”
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Previously 2008: “The chickens are here!” he said.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry. 2004: OR MAYBE I JUST NEED A NEW COMPUTER. 2003: So, there. That’s my day so far. 2002: I’m a total calendar-having fool.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
Today marks 13 years since Fred and I met online for the very first time. It was a few more weeks before we talked on the phone, and a couple of months before we met in person. Last night we were laying in bed talking about the amazing fact that we’ve been together(ish) for 13 … Continue reading “3/10/09”
Today marks 13 years since Fred and I met online for the very first time. It was a few more weeks before we talked on the phone, and a couple of months before we met in person.
Last night we were laying in bed talking about the amazing fact that we’ve been together(ish) for 13 years (I know, we talk about the most fascinating stuff!), and Fred pointed out that we met when we were in our 20s.
I was 28 when I met Fred. I felt SO OLD then, but 28 sounds impossibly young to me now.
Hell. My CHILD is PRACTICALLY 28! (In 8 years. Don’t be nitpicky.) We met in our 20s and now we’re in our 40s. That kinda freaks me out.
Anyway.
Happy meeting-versary, baby!
(He’s celebrating by having some sort of flu-like illness and announcing his temperature to me every 15 minutes (it’s now just over 100). He knows how to party it up!)
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By the way, Fred agrees with those of you who said that this picture of me:
is a really good one. I didn’t think it was that great, but apparently I’m outvoted.
After Nance and Rick left on Saturday, Fred and I decided to go to the flea market. We were driving down the highway when I looked at the back of an 18-wheeler we were about to pass, and immediately told Fred to slow the hell down so I could take a picture.
Hey, at least he’s polite about it, right?
(And no, I didn’t.)
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Spring has sprung!
Like an idiot, I left the house yesterday morning wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and heavy boots. I knew that it was going to be warm later in the day, but I didn’t know it was going to be quite so warm, or that I was going to be gone for four hours. By the time I made my run to Sam’s, Kohl’s, TJ Maxx, the bank, and the grocery store, I was sweltering and had to run the air conditioning in my car on high so I wouldn’t melt.
(I suspect that those of you in colder climates are reallllllly feeling sorry for me about now, aren’t you?)
Sunday I finally got my ass in gear and did what I’ve been putting off, got my pruning shears and my little yellow wagon, and went around the house pruning bushes. They’ve started blooming, and I know that I should have done it about a month ago, but I didn’t and they needed badly to be pruned, so if they die from a little vigorous pruning, they can be replaced DO YOU HEAR ME, BUSHES???
I pruned the winter honeysuckle bushes on both sides of the house (winter honeysuckle in bloom is some incredible-smelling stuff, if you’re curious), the camellia bush, the rose of sharon bushes off the kitchen, and the butterfly bushes. The butterfly bushes I basically cut down so that they’re sticks coming up out of the ground – I used to do that with my butterfly bush at the other house, and it was pretty happy, hopefully these will be as well. The only bushes I had problems with are the spirea bushes on either side of the house. I have no fucking clue how to prune those, because they’re not like other bushes and I wasn’t quite sure what the hell I was trying to accomplish, so I hacked away a little, and then gave up. Maybe I’ll mess with ’em more next year.
Yes, the camellia bush is leaning. It’s leaning toward the sun, what can you do? I think it looks better than it did (though of course there’s no “before” picture.)
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Tommy in motion. Check out those weeds! We grow a fine crop of weeds here at Crooked Acres.
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Previously 2008: We had a little weirdness on Friday in the form of a super-mega-mutant egg.
2007: No entry. 2006: Today’s the 10th anniversary of the day Fred and I met. 2005: I met Fred nine years ago today. 2004: Eight years ago today, I entered the IRC Undernet channel #!Fredsplace and met the geek who owned and ran the channel, who would eventually become the love of my life. (Complete with mush!) 2003: Sick Poo.
2002: No entry. 2001: Five years ago today, I was on IRC and I wandered into the Undernet channel #!Fredsplace, and I met the love of my life. (More mush!) 2000: Four years ago today, I wandered into the IRC Undernet channel #!Fredsplace, thus setting into motion a chain of events which would echo down through the years.
So Nance and Rick left Saturday morning. That’s right, they got here late Wednesday and left early Saturday. Not NEARLY enough time, if you ask me. And Nance and I never did get around to making a video, either. Like I said – not long enough! Thursday we hung around the house in the morning … Continue reading “3/9/09”
So Nance and Rick left Saturday morning. That’s right, they got here late Wednesday and left early Saturday. Not NEARLY enough time, if you ask me.
And Nance and I never did get around to making a video, either. Like I said – not long enough!
Thursday we hung around the house in the morning (and could have made our video then, I suppose, but we are slackers and had better things to do. Like talk about the state of the nation. (Ha!)) and then went out to lunch at Logan’s Roadhouse. Then because I needed to pick up the paperwork for Rumba and Samba (who went to the pet store on Friday, see the last few pictures I took of Samba, here), we drove up to the shelter I volunteer for, and visited with the kittehs.
This is Ladybug. She looks a LOT like Nance and Rick’s cat Julie.
I don’t recall this one’s name, but he “sings” when he purrs. It’s very neat.
(Pics courtesy of Nance. I don’t think I took a single picture while they were here!)
By the time we got home, Fred was home from work. Nance knows how Fred is about being the one to show off the animals, so they’d kindly stayed away from the dogs and chickens and pigs so he could do so. George and Gracie were all “Woohoo! New best friends for us!” and the pigs were all “Where is the food, pls?” and the chickens were all “Whatevs.” You know, the usual.
We had Terry’s Pizza for dinner, and it was pretty damn good. We spent a good part of the evening playing Catchphrase (yes, we really do live it up!) and since Fred can hardly keep his eyes open past 8:00 these days, we were in bed by 10.
Fred took Friday off, and I don’t know what he spent Friday morning doing, but for the most part we all sat around for a few hours, each on our separate computers (we are dorks) and then I took the kittens to the pet store, and when I got home Nance and Rick were ready to go.
And Fred was all “We’re going somewhere?” It turned out that when we’d all been talking about going up into Tennessee the night before, while Nance and Rick and I thought we were making plans, Fred thought we were just talking.
So we went to Tennessee, stopping at several stores along the way. Nance and I went into a Factory Connection somewhere in Tennessee and got some really good deals. I got a hooded fleece jacket for $3.50 and a hooded sweater for $5. (Not that I was in particular desperate need of either, but a bargain like that, you really can’t pass up.)
We went to our favorite store in all of Tennessee, the Bodenham General Store, and then went down the road to another store that was jam-packed with stuff. So jam-packed, in fact, that Fred knocked over and broke a bowl. The woman who owns the store wouldn’t even hear of him paying for it, so in desperation we walked around the store looking for something to buy. We ended up buying a big-ass thermometer with a rooster on it that Fred put on the big coop (in case the chickens need to know the temperature, obviously), and I picked out a very old Coca Cola crate. One day, I’m going to get my ass in gear and sew a cat bed to go into the crate.
(Nance is laughing at me right now, I guarantee it.)
We got home mid-afternoon and hung out for a while, then headed to Decatur to have BBQ for dinner at Big Bob Gibson’s. (We always drag them to Big Bob Gibson’s when they visit and if they hate it, they’re too nice to say so. Big Bob Gibson’s is some really damn good BBQ, but I find it odd that they don’t have hushpuppies there.)
Nance and I were honestly planning, when we got home from dinner, to make a video, but Fred was all spazzy about playing games and “OMG! It’s almost 7, the night is almost over!”, so we just gave up the video idea and played a round of Taboo (which just isn’t as much fun as Catchphrase, because it’s kinda stressful), then played a few rounds of Catchphrase.
And early Saturday morning, they were up and gone, and the visit was over. It was like they were hardly even here and then they were gone! I could have used one more day, but I guess it’s a good thing they left Saturday, so they could take a leisurely drive home and not worry about having to get up early the next day for work.
While Nance mocked my adorable new boots over on her site and pointed out that I’m a great big dork who tucked her jeans into her boots, what she failed to mention was the REASON I was tucking my jeans into my boots. I tucked my jeans into my boots because I was wearing ankle socks, and the tops of the boots were rubbing my legs and causing great irritation and pain. The next day I wore long socks and didn’t need to tuck my jeans in to protect my legs, but did she mention that? Noooooooo. Brat.
They’re adorable boots, are they not?
I had a credit at Zappos, and after I went out to the back forty in my crappy $8 Walmart boots last week and went slip-sliding all over the damn place (because $8 Walmart boots do not provide a great deal of traction, FYI), I decided I needed to invest in some decent boots. So after much hemming and hawing, I ordered a pair of the Gypsy Cowgirl Coll boots, and since shipping was free, they didn’t cost me a thing.
I love Zappos.
And so far, the boots are working out very well for me and they’re cute to boot (har!), so I call that win-win.
Beginning on Friday and continuing through the weekend, the Crooked Acres chicken population jumped by 34 baby chickens. This time around, having read something on a message board, when Fred took the eggs off the turner on Wednesday, he put the eggs in egg cartons in the incubator. Usually he sets them on their side on the floor of the incubator.
At first it looked like we weren’t going to get a very high hatch rate, but slowly more and more eggs hatched, and by Sunday afternoon we only had two eggs that hadn’t hatched, and there was clear activity coming from those two eggs. Sunday evening, the last two eggs hatched.
Of the 35 eggs that Fred determined were fertile after 10 days in the incubator, all but one hatched (that one pipped and then died in the egg). That’s a phenomenal hatch rate.
Having such a high hatch rate means that now we have over 100 chickens. Number 101 happened to be an egg laid by a silkie (god only knows who the father is). S/he’s a smallish bird, but not terribly smaller than the other babies. Almost all the babies, except for the silkie cross and Sassy’s egg, turned out to be either yellow or reddish.
Silkie cross, freshly hatched.
Silkie cross, dry and fluffy.
They are, as baby chickens tend to be, unbearably cute.
A few of the baby chickens were having problems getting hatched, so Fred took the initiative to give Mother Nature a hand (you are NOT supposed to do this, by the way, you’re supposed to let what’s going to happen, happen. If you “help out” a chicken having a hard time getting out of the shell, you very well might end up with a chicken with Issues, and might have to end up putting it down). So far, they’re all doing well, though I won’t really relax until it’s been a few days.
Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry. 2006: So when I reached down to pet his head, IT WASN’T HIS HEAD I GOT. ::shudder:: 2005: Killing the messenger. 2004: Howling and hissing and growling and yowling ensued.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry. 2001: Gather ’round, younguns, and hear the heartbreaking tale of farts and betrayal… 2000: You still love me, though, right? Um, right?
From reader Wendie: My local animal shelter is competing in a contest to win a million dollar shelter makeover (I checked and your kitty rescue is not in the contest at all and there are no Alabama shelters anywhere near the top) and the internet part of the contest is over in just 11 days. … Continue reading “3/6/09”
From reader Wendie:
My local animal shelter is competing in a contest to win a million dollar shelter makeover (I checked and your kitty rescue is not in the contest at all and there are no Alabama shelters anywhere near the top) and the internet part of the contest is over in just 11 days. We’re in 10th place right now and as long as we stay in the Top 20, we’ll win at least $5000 and a chance to win anywhere from $10,000 to the million dollar makeover. We’ve been dropping fast in the ranks these past few days and since this contest has been going on since September, we’re very worried that all of our hard work isn’t going to pay off. We take in around 175 animals a month (75% cats) and only have 12 dog kennels and 30 cat cages so we badly badly need this makeover. We have a $100,000 budget and live in a rural farm area (the nearest “city” is 8000 people) and are competing against shelters with a five MILLION dollar budget in huge metropolitan areas. Anyway, with 11 days left in the contest, I was wondering if there was any chance you would ask your readers to sign up in support of my little shelter. ZooToo is a pet website (think Facebook meets Dogster/Catster) and for everyone we get to sign up, that’s 50 points and then if they upload pictures, comment on animal news stories, vote for cutest pet in pet wars, write journal entries, upload videos, etc etc it’s even more points.
The Momma would like you to know that she has no intention of updating today because she’s a big slacking slacker and she’s got other stuff to do.
Also, she would like you to know that Samba and Rumba are going to the pet store today, so someone should skip right over there and adopt them ASAP.
Now go away.
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Previously 2008: They feel cartilage-y, like human ears. Go figure. 2007: Did I mention my hormones are all out of whack? 2006: “And they’ll have to call it Wipe the Ass!”
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry. 2003: Want some cats? 2002: I had no idea what to say – “Well, of COURSE you’re only going to date someone you think is cute!”? Then I’m anti-ugly. 2001: Except for that crying at the drop of a hat thing, she’s just fine. 2000: Do y’all ever do that, have moments where the startling realization that you’re a complete dumbass smacks you in the face?
So yes, those of you who guessed, guessed correctly. Nance and Rick have come to visit! I spent most of yesterday doing last-minute cleaning, and when I was cleaning the bathroom, I noticed there was a bit of mildew on the bottom of the shower curtains. So I took them down, tossed them in the … Continue reading “3/5/09”
So yes, those of you who guessed, guessed correctly. Nance and Rick have come to visit!
I spent most of yesterday doing last-minute cleaning, and when I was cleaning the bathroom, I noticed there was a bit of mildew on the bottom of the shower curtains. So I took them down, tossed them in the washer, and then when they were done washing, I put them in the dryer.
Now, I put my shower curtains in the dryer for about ten minutes on air dry every time I wash them (which is every couple of months) just to get them mostly dry, and it’s always been fine. The problem this time is that I forgot to turn the heat selector to “no heat”, and so ten minutes later when I went to take them out of the dryer, one of the curtains had melted to the heat element of the dryer.
Which meant I had to spend twenty minutes scraping melted plastic off the heat element. Thank GOD the plastic scraped off just fine, because I wasn’t looking forward to the phone call with Fred wherein I explained to him that I’d broken the dryer and we needed a new one.
I ran to Wal-Mart, hoping that they’d have decent shower curtains, and to my surprise, they did!
(On a side note, I had the previous shower curtains for almost two years, and they were cheap $10 curtains that I ran through the washer every few months. That was a pretty good investment, I’d say!)
(On another side note, I have to have two shower curtains for the shower ’cause it’s a wrap-around rod, and a single shower curtain isn’t wide enough.)
When Fred got home, he decided that it was time to send a few rooster to Freezer Camp. I hadn’t realized it, but we had way too many roosters for the number of hens we have. He’d been talking about dispatching a few roosters to the great chicken coop in the sky for a few days, but it wasn’t until I opened the coop yesterday to check for eggs and saw a young Buff Orpington with half the feathers on her back missing that I realized just how bad the girls were getting it.
Fred went out to the chicken yard to catch some roosters, and I started making chicken pot pie for dinner (it’s the cirrrrrrrrrrrrrcle of life), then he asked me to come out and give him a hand with the catching of the roosters. He’d caught one, but was having issues with catching the other two. The good part about having the chickens in the back forty is that they have room to roam. The bad part is that it’s a big field and when a rooster doesn’t want to get caught, he’s got plenty of room to run from you.
DAMNIT.
Ultimately (I won’t give you the blow-by-blow), I convinced him to go get his fishing net, sure that I could just swoop it down over the rooster and the rooster would be caught and all would be well. It didn’t happen like that (chickens are mighty fucking fast when they want to be), so Fred got to work with his .22 (that’s a rifle-looking gun, if you’re as clueless as I am – when Fred said he was going to get the .22, I expected him to come out with a handgun.) Truthfully, he’s handier with a rifle than either of us thought he would be, and soon enough he had his two roosters to process, and I came back inside to get going on dinner.
After spending half an hour chasing roosters around the back forty, I was way behind on making dinner, so I just got the chicken pot pie filling to the point where it was ready to go into the pie plate, then froze it (we’ll have it for dinner one night next week) and we had cereal for dinner.
Intermittently through the day, I harassed Nance about where she and Rick were, and right around 9:00 they pulled into the driveway. We sat around and talked for a while, and then we went to bed.
This morning, Nance and I gossiped some more and I don’t know what the plans are for the day, but I do believe at some point there’ll be some video podcasts made.
Which begs the question from me to y’all – any questions you want answered, topics you’d like addressed? You know how we adore being idiots, so let me hear it!
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I don’t know how he does it, but Spanky gets water all over his face every time he drinks. Hopefully he manages to get SOME of it in his mouth.
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Previously 2008: Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted? A. Miz Poo! 2007: “Yeah, it’s really fleein’ the interview,” Fred said.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry. 2004: You suppose they’d mind if I went over after dark and pressed my face up against the window to see what’s going on? 2003: Maybe I should go for the dreadlocks look… 2002: Any resemblance to persons living or dead are completely coincidental. I don’t fart. 2001: every Mulvaney shat gold upon command three times a day. 2000: Here at casa bitchypoo, we believe in extremely lazy Sundays.
I have shit to get done today, so I’m tossing up a meme and some pictures and calling it good enough! Stolen from Ms. Darkstar. Accent: I have none. Or I have a southern accent. Or I sound like I’m from the Midwest. Depends on who you ask! (Personally, I think I have none.) Breakfast … Continue reading “3/4/09”
I have shit to get done today, so I’m tossing up a meme and some pictures and calling it good enough!
Accent: I have none. Or I have a southern accent. Or I sound like I’m from the Midwest. Depends on who you ask! (Personally, I think I have none.)
Breakfast or no breakfast: Breakfast. Usually scrambled eggs and yogurt or scrambled eggs and whatever fruit’s around or scrambled eggs and toast. Are we sensing a theme here?
Chore I don’t care for: I’m not crazy about any of them, but I always put off dusting ’til someone’s about to come visit. I spent an hour and a half dusting yesterday, pulling everything off the shelves and wiping them down. This house is DUSTED.
Dog or Cat: Cats. But I do like my Georgie and my Gracie, though.
Essential Electronics: iPod (I have to have something to listen to when I’m in the kitchen or vacuuming or dusting). Cell phone, not that I use it all that much. My computer. My laptop
Favorite Perfume: I don’t really wear perfume these days, can’t remember the last time I did. My favorite smell these days is the scent of sun-dried clothes, does that count?
Gold or Silver: Silver or white gold. (I can’t really tell the difference between the two.)
Handbag I carry most often: It used to be the Ameribag (I have several different ones), but a few months ago I bought a Relic handbag at Kohl’s, and it’s working surprisingly well for me. (I’d link to it, but I don’t know the exact model, and I has no time for Googling. Did I mention I have shit to do?)
Insomnia: Never. I can’t remember the last time I couldn’t get to sleep.
Job Title: Head Jam-Maker and Egg-Packer at Cr00ked Acres.
Kids: One – the spud lives in Rhode Island with her father and stepmother. (She’s 20.) (The spud, that is, not the stepmother.)
Living Arrangements: One 80 year-old farm house, one 41 year-old husband, 10 cats of varying ages, two puppydogs, and too many chickens to count.
Most Admirable Trait: I DON’T KNOW. This makes me uncomfortable.
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: Trying to get myself out of trouble by tattling on someone else about something completely unrelated so they’d get in trouble instead. (Never worked very well.)
Overnight hospital stays: Many. Tonsils, knee surgery, c-section, gastric bypass, lower body lift. Huh. I guess that’s not really that many, is it? (Y’all who’ve never had surgery are pale with horror at the idea that I consider that “not that many”, aren’t you?)
Phobias: I don’t know – I don’t think I have any, really. I used to be bug-phobic (specifically wasps and bees), but since we moved here have gotten pretty blase about killing them (bare-handed, if required) and tossing them out the door. Is being concerned that I’ll have to shoot someone who’s trying to break into the house and forgetting to disengage the safety a phobia? Oh no, I know – I don’t like to touch dead things, dead and cleaned chickens notwithstanding.
Time I wake up: Usually a little before 6, when Fred wakes me to say goodbye before he leaves for work. If left to my own devices, I’ll generally sleep ’til 7. (That gets earlier as the days get longer. Generally once the sun is up, I can’t get back to sleep.)
Unusual Talent or Skill: I can raise my left eyebrow, wiggle my ears, and roll my tongue. Fascinating, no?
Worst Habit: Chewing my fingernails, forgetting to put lotion on my hands with any kind of regularity, snapping at Fred when he overexplains.
X-rays: I don’t know; I don’t keep track of that shit.
Whoever said that they thought this bird (the one who nests in a hole in the pecan tree and pops his head out when I jiggle the branch) is a woodpecker was right – this is the first time I’ve seen the bit of red on his head (in the first picture). He appears to be a Downy Woodpecker.
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The baby chicks are now almost three weeks old!
I’m pretty sure this is the baby of one of the Featherheads. She’s got a little mohawk going on.
I love the little mohawk – she’s the Rock Star’s baby, crossed with one of the roosters (I don’t know which). I think she’s going to be as gorgeous as her mother.
I feel like I’m imposing. They’re all “What do YOU want?”
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I recently finished these cross-stitch pictures. They’re simple and quick (well, would have been if I’d worked on them every night instead of noodling around on the laptop) and I’ve had the patterns forever. I have some Kats by Kelly patterns I want to cross-stitch, but I’m forcing myself to do some of the stuff I’ve had for years before I’ll do the ones I really want to.
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Hail Stinky,
Full of Hate,
The Tom is with thee.
Hateful art thou among kittehs,
and frightened is the brunt
of thy doom, Joe Bob.
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Previously 2008: The pigs reported that he tasted “Too humany.”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry. 2005: Dumbass things I did yesterday. 2004: I think I need to go back to high school. 2003: “Well, good luck to Daddy on that,” I said. 2002: (You just shut up)
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
Buff rooster, eating with his wimmins. Suddenly, an idea occurs to him… “Oh lord,” squawks wise Oscar the Hen, who has seen bright ideas come to roosters far too often in her two years of life. “Don’t make eye contact with him, girls! Pretend he’s not there!” Buff rooster begins to flap his impressive (at … Continue reading “3/3/09”
Buff rooster, eating with his wimmins.
Suddenly, an idea occurs to him…
“Oh lord,” squawks wise Oscar the Hen, who has seen bright ideas come to roosters far too often in her two years of life. “Don’t make eye contact with him, girls! Pretend he’s not there!”
Buff rooster begins to flap his impressive (at least, in his eyes) wings. He flaps and flaps and flaps, and then he crows “WHO WANTS SOME LOVIN’?!”
As the hens wisely avoid eye contact with Buff rooster, he flaps and flaps and flaps.
“LAYDEES,” he crows. “I SAY! CAN I GET SOME LOVIN’?”
As it turned out, no. Buff rooster was not able to get some lovin’ that fine sunny afternoon. Poor Buff(oon) rooster.
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Puppies, keeping a watchful eye on their flock.
The threat.
The response.
Threat = gone. No match for SuperPuppies!
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“You has a snack for me?” Of course I do – I know better than to go out there without a snack for the pigs. They get PEEVED if you show up without an offering.
The striped one is the rootin’est pig I’ve ever seen. He’s always got his nose in the mud.
Pretty pig.
Check out that muddy nose.
Pig in motion.
“Snack? Snack? Snack?”
“Hellew.”
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Bad bad Joe Bob Brown, the baddest-ass cat in the whole damn town.
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2008: That, my friends, is a powerful stench. And it wasn’t a pleasant one.
2007: No entry. 2006: “MmmHMMM, I KNEW that was going to happen, the dumb bitch was lifting shit long before she was supposed to!” 2005: By the way, Erika: who watches your kids while you’re busy reading PEOPLE and firing off those indignant letters? 2004: Have I mentioned that I adore my DVR? 2003: Ah, you poor damn AOL users.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry. 2000: See? I always say “Thank you” to the freaking servers at fast food places. Yet all I get in return is rudeness.
New month, new logo! This was made for me by the wonderful Aly, who also designed my banner over at Crooked Acres. Thanks, Aly – you rock!!! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Speaking of Crooked Acres, I’m pleased … Continue reading “3-2-09”
New month, new logo! This was made for me by the wonderful Aly, who also designed my banner over at Crooked Acres.
Thanks, Aly – you rock!!!
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Speaking of Crooked Acres, I’m pleased to announce that the last four jars of habanero jam sold over the weekend, making it – as I told Fred – a successful jam season. Now I’ll rest up from the jam and hot sauce-making, which will resume mid-summer or so, depending on when the habaneros come in again.
This year, Fred is growing Bhut Jolokia (Ghost) Peppers in addition to the habaneros. For those of you who (like me) know nothin’ ’bout no Ghost Peppers, Fred says that Habaneros have a Scoville rating of between 100,000 – 150,000 heat units. The Jolokia is over one million.
Why such a horrific thing needs to exist, I have no idea.
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So that I can finally throw away the piece of paper that’s been sitting on my desk for the past few months, I’d like to inform y’all that from the 40 pounds of pecans Fred picked up in the yard this Fall, we ended up with 16 pounds, 9 ounces of shelled pecans. I bagged them up in 2-cup bags, and currently have over 60 cups of pecan halves in the freezer.
Have I mentioned that toasted pecans are particularly tasty?
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March came in like a lion yesterday. I woke up to a snowstorm and actual standing snow on the ground. It was cold and gray and dreary out, and I said “I am NOT even going out in that shit. I’m staying in my pajamas all day!” After I took a shower, I put my pink fleece reindeer pants on, and my pink oversized Big Dogs sweatshirt on, and that’s what I wore all day.
The snow stopped by 8, and had melted off by noon, and it was sunny and pretty out, but still way too cold for me, so I never did get dressed. I did go out in the evening to see the dogs and assist Fred in the job of feeding cookies to the pigs, but I didn’t stay out long, because it was COLD.
8:00 AM.
4:00 PM.
There’s nothing like bright white snow to make your white dogs look dingy and dirty.
Since I usually go get groceries on Sunday and didn’t want to leave the house, I had to decide what to make for dinner, and after some deliberation, I decided to make hamburgers. We hadn’t had hamburgers in a while, and I’d seen that Suzanne McMinn posted a recipe for homemade hamburger and hotdog buns, so I thought I’d give that a try.
I’m pretty sure I’ve never made a loaf of bread by hand (what’s a bread machine for, after all?), so I was worried that I’d screw up the hamburger buns. When I started making the buns and I got to the point where I was supposed to slowly add flour until the dough was too hard to stir by hand, and I added all the flour the recipe called for and more, and the dough still looked like cake batter, I was worried.
By the time the dough was kneaded (Fred took over and did that part, since he’s actually made bread before), I’m pretty sure we ended up using close to twice what the recipe called for. I was worried.
When an hour later, there’d been very little rising (the dough was supposed to double) and I wondered if I’d screwed up entirely, Fred turned the oven on warm and put the bowl inside, then cracked the door open so it wouldn’t get too hot, then turned the oven off and told me to leave it for a while. I was worried.
After about another hour, the dough had pretty much doubled, so I sprinkled flour on it and began kneading, and then I added more flour because it was still sticky and then I added MORE flour and then I howled “HOW MUCH FLOUR DO YOU NEED, DAMNIT?!”, and then Fred came in and we made hamburger bun-sized buns, and put them on the cookie sheets and I put them in the warmish oven and let them rise for another half hour. I was pretty sure these were not going to be tasty, tasty hamburger buns, that I’d screwed it up completely and we’d end up feeding them to the pigs.
Half an hour later, they’d clearly risen, so I heated the oven and popped the buns inside to cook, and twenty minutes later, what came out of the oven looked a lot like hamburger buns
(Fred made that super-size bun on the end)
Fred came in from doing something outside and said the buns smelled good and that we should split one. I was up for that, so I cut one in half. And I have to say – it was really pretty good. BUT it was pretty dense and heavy and I tend to think of hamburger buns as being not quite so heavy. I ate my hamburger on one of the buns and it was really pretty good, but more filling than I would have liked.
So, bread bakers out there, any words of wisdom on what I could do differently next time?
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“Here, let me get that for you… ::SLURRRRP::”
“Wha…? What just happened? Did she lick that food off my paw? I WAS SAVIN’ THAT FOR LATER! Give it back!”
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Not fond of this cold-ass white stuff.
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Previously
2008: No entry. 2007: “Yes, they’re AWFUL. They taste like my grandmother’s attic*!” 2006: I call him Bob. 2005: Bouncing like that just can’t be a good thing. 2004: “DAMN it’s cold in here, give me some ass!”
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry. 2001: Let’s just hope she wasn’t preparing him for the slaughter.
2000: No entry.
Four half-pints of fruit-habanero jam left! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I am shaving my head for the 3rd year for St. Baldrick’s Foundation on March 28th. This year it means even more to me as I … Continue reading “2/27/09”
I am shaving my head for the 3rd year for St. Baldrick’s Foundation on March 28th. This year it means even more to me as I now know what it is like to receive a diagnosis of cancer since I was diagnosed in September of last year with Renal Cell Cancer.
Even the smallest donations are appreciated. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.
From reader Nicole, regarding her friend’s daughter:
Holly has applied for the “World’s Best Job” on the Barrier Reef. I’m not sure of the total number of applicants, but I think it’s something like 35,000.
The site is incredibly overloaded, and it takes forever to download her application video, but I hope you will be patient, view it and rate it. The ratings will help to influence the judges, who will select the top 50. They will be chosen 8 days from now, at which time the public will then actually vote to choose the top 10. It’s a bit presumptuous to look that far ahead. For now, enjoy the video, and rate it, if you will, please.
Yesterday, after I checked the big chicken coop for eggs I stopped by the little chicken coop to see if Sassy had left an egg in one of the nest boxes.
Turned out, she was hanging out in the nest box, and REALLY pissed off and appalled at my utter gall and NERVE.
For you, a movie starring Sassy McGee, Angry Chicken. I call it “SHUT THE DOOR! I’M LAYING AN EGG! GOD!!!”
Robyn, how does it feel to be a thin person now? I once lost 80lbs, and was thin for a couple of years, I really miss how “light” my body was. How has being thin changed things physically for you?
I have to admit, I don’t really think of myself in terms of being “thin.” Most of the time I just kind of go along and don’t think of the fact that I’ve lost, pretty much, an entirely other person. Every once in a while, though, I’ll do something – I’ve started running around in the back forty with the dogs, I start running and yell “Come on, puppies! Come on, puppies!” and they’ll join in the chase – and I’ll think “Huh. I could never have done that before!” And before the surgery, I never went back upstairs during the day unless I absolutely had to – if there was stuff that needed to go upstairs, I’d just pile it at the bottom of the stairs. Now, I’ll just run upstairs and put whatever it is away, or run upstairs and check on the kittens, or whatever, and not really think much about it.
I thought, before I had the surgery, that I’d feel so much lighter after I lost all that weight, and I guess I do, but for the most part I just feel like… me, I guess.
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Did Delmar ever get adopted? I know he got returned once, but is he still at the pet store or did he find a home?
He did! He got adopted a couple of weeks ago, and the same people who adopted Delmar also adopted Lem. I was pretty happy to find that out. Funny thing is that earlier in the day I had been thinking about trying to convince Fred that we should adopt him. Apparently the universe doesn’t think we need any more cats!
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Robyn, I know this gets asked every few months, and if I wasn’t so damned lazy I could do a search for it, but….. what camera do you guys have? It takes incredible shots.
It’s a Sony Alpha DSLR-A100 (I always have to look at the label on the camera, I can never remember what it is!)
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side note about the skin: in my experience with white dogs, and dalmation dogs, sometimes they are more prone to skin irriations. What always worked for us was feeding them carrots. We’d get a big bags of mini-carrots at c0stco and serve those in place of dog biscuits.
I have so much to learn about dogs – I tossed half a head of cabbage to the chickens the other day, and George darted in and grabbed it and took it off to the back of the field and then ate it. It had never occurred to me that they’d eat raw vegetables! But they really, really like carrots. Now, how much of the carrots they actually eat, I’m not sure – I find carrot pieces all over the place after I give them carrots, but they certainly like to chew on them.
Also, those of you who suggested getting Kongs for the dogs? Genius! I fill them with treats (cut up carrots, a homemade cookie or two) and plain yogurt, then freeze them for a few hours, and when I walk through the gate and give the dogs their Kongs, they immediately retreat to their corners and concentrate on those Kongs like there’s nothing else on earth.
Puppies eating carrots.
“I has a Kong! I has a Kong! It’s MY Kong, I has a Kong!”
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This may be a little late but when you watched Zack & Miri did you watch it all the way through the credits? There’s more movie 1/2 through the credits.
No – damnit! I think this means I need to get it from Netflix again so I can see what I missed!
Edited to add: Fred found it for me at YouTube! See it here. (Very much not safe for work!)
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I can find goat cheese at Kroger and Walmart, so I can’t imagine you wouldn’t be able to get it at Publix! Most often it’s labeled as chevre.
I looked in both the cheese sections (the one by the deli and the one near the milk), and never did find goat cheese. That doesn’t mean Publix doesn’t carry it, just that I got overwhelmed by the amount of cheese, couldn’t find goat cheese, and gave up and left. I’ll check again this weekend when I go! Actually, I think we’re going to the feed and seed store
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I love the picture with Fred and the chicken. My first thought was I wonder what that shirt looks like on the back? I’m really commenting because I am buying chicks tomorrow and I wanted to remind you that it is completely and totally All. Your. Fault. (I’m trying to find my camera)
Fred would like you to know that Mr. Friendly does NOT poop whilst being held. Ever. (Yet.)
Baby chicken pictures, please. If y’all are going to blame me for you getting a chicken or a cat or a dog or a pig, y’all are going to have to come through with the pictures. It’s the law – don’t make me sic Sheriff Mama on you!
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Re the slankie, there is actually a spoof of the ad on YouTube that is just hilarious!
I think I must have seen that, because I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a real Slanket/ Snuggie commercial, and the parody has to be how I found out that it’s just a ROBE that you WEAR BACKWARDS.
Because I mock the Slanket, I think we all know that by this time next year, I’ll own sixteen cat-hair-covered Slankets and will wear them 24 hours a day.
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Regarding raw diets, the cat my DH grew up with ate only raw horse liver, which was apparently sold at the pet store many years ago. My MIL chopped it into small pieces and kept it in an old fashioned glass refrigerator container, with the loosely fitted lids.
Anyway, when it was time for “Buttons” to come in she would go to the back door and rattle the lid and he would come running lickity split.
Most of the time, all the cats have to do is hear me getting their snack plates down, and they come running. The only ones who don’t are the ones who are hanging out in the back yard and don’t hear the rattling of the plates.
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ROBYN! Have you seen the show Assy McGee?? (Knowing how you love the name “McGee!” (which by the way, we call our animals, “Dickball McGee, and Shitpie Magillicutty.” They seem to like it and it sure makes us laugh.) ANYWAY, the show is really dumb but MY GOD, it’s hilarious.
I have not yet watched any episodes of Assy McGee, but it’s certainly on my list of stuff to check out!
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Have you seen this article and website? A man in Florida has developed 30 acres just for cats, rescues, strays, and those people can’t keep.
Oh wow – that is just too neat! He apparently never ever turns any cats away!
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I’d be careful with high-protein diets… especially in male cats. I had for almost 14 years problems with my cat and protein in his diet. He’d start to pee everywhere, get urinary tract infections and it eventually cause liver and kidney damage. He finally passed away about two years ago from severe kidney failure. It’s a balancing act. if you have cats that are healthy and can handle it, then good… if not though, you could upset the balance and then have to try and figure out which cats are sick, which are healthy…. it’s up to you but… i’d just be careful. I know I spent probably $10,000 in bills over the years. Maybe more! Don’t tell my mom… and that’s just for one cat.
I doubt we’ll ever go to a 100% raw food diet just because I sincerely doubt that some of our cats (Miz Poo, in particular) would ever eat anything but the dry food we provide for them. Giving them raw food would probably be more supplemental than a complete replacement for our cats.
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What movie did the Donald Sutherland “skimmer” photo come from?
Love the new piggies. The picture of George and Gracie running along the fence surprised me. I thought all they did was lay around in the sun proving gravity.
They have bursts of energy if something excites them – something like the pigs (they don’t bark at them anymore, at least!), or one of their humans approaching with a snack. Also, they like to chase each other around from time to time. I would estimate that they have the occasional ten-minute burst of energy followed by six or seven hours of recovery time wherein they are absolutely dead to the world. Fred and I are fond of saying “Looks like something killed the dogs.”, because when those dogs are out, they’re OUT.
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oh, my! Those are the cutest little things! I soo could not eat them. As a kid, I had a pet pig named Curly. Then all of a sudden he was nowhere to be found. I asked Mom where he was and she asked if I remembered eating the Christmas ham. I was very sad. I loved my Curly.
That is just sad. But funny. But mostly sad. Poor Curly!
We’re lucky that as cute as the pigs are right now, they will grow to be big and obnoxious and demanding, and when it’s time for them to go off to be processed, we’ll be glad to see ’em go.
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I guess this would be a question for Friday but I was wondering how much you save by buying and raising pigs, chickens, etc? I can’t remember if you had a cow. If not, would you consider it? I’m sure you are seeing some savings by raising your own food including vegetables and fruits. But I’m also sure there are some costs involved beside your time. Have you begun to see any savings or is this more of a hobby but the savings in a bonus kind of thing?
Honestly, I think we’re saving money by “growing” our own meat, but I can’t put a dollar figure to it, I just have no idea at all. I haven’t bought anything but beef in almost a year, and it’s nice to have a freezer full of pork and chicken on hand.
We didn’t have a cow. We talked about it, but I don’t think we really have room for a cow anymore, with the pigs and chickens taking up so much of the back forty. The guy who sold us the pigs also raises cows, and he’s willing to sell us a cow that’s ready to be processed – in other words, he’d deliver the cow to the butcher, we’d just have to pick it up. Fred’s considering it (we’d likely split the cow with his business partner, because I don’t think we have freezer space for an entire cow – I’m not sure we actually have freezer space for HALF a cow!).
More important than the money we save by raising our own pigs and chickens is knowing that they’re well-treated until the last possible moment.
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I know you’ve said that you’ll never get geese, but have you ever seen Indian Runner Ducks? Our neighbor has them and they’re hilarious!
No, I had never seen those before (or at least, hadn’t noticed them). They’re awfully cute!
(But I don’t want ducks either. We have no bodies of water for them to swim around in.)
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Have you gotten the house pictures yet? Now that you “know” what the cement pad was for, you think about building an XL pantry out there to store all your creations? I thought of you today when we went to Walmart. Hubby went to get a box of ammo for target shooting and our Walmart was sold out of most everything! Eek I thought, well if we are gonna be attacked, at least Fred and Robyn will be stocked up and could survive.
The house pictures haven’t arrived yet – but the woman who has them said it would be a little while before she could put her hands on them, she has them in storage.
We haven’t even discussed putting a super-sized pantry out there, but I think I’d rather have a deck over that cement pad, instead. (Someday.) If we were going to build a really big pantry, I think I’d rather have it in the house than in another building – maybe one wall of the guest bedroom, or of the dining room. That way, we could better defend our food against the starving masses when the economy REALLY goes into the toilet.
(Or, you know, it’ll be handy when we invite the starving masses in to eat with us, which is probably more likely!)
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Cute little piggies! 🙂 Have you named them yet? If not, might I suggest Martin and Lewis? Tom and Jerry? Sylvester and Tweety?
Thus far, our pigs seem to be generally named “Big Pig” and “Little Pig” because one’s always bigger than the other. This time around we’ll likely go with “Black Pig” and “Striped Pig”, because we are creative geniuses!
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I don’t know much about pigs but – why are they hairy? I’ve never seen hairy pigs here before… not here anyways!
I… don’t know. I guess it’s due to the type of pigs they are? The other pigs we had (Yorkshires) had some hair (bristles), but not nearly as much as these pigs do. These pigs have a Yorkshire mother and I don’t know what their father was. They look like little wild boars to me!
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I do not believe I knew that chickens could sneeze. Sounds obvious, but do all animals sneeze? Hmm….
It took me a long time to figure out that that’s what that noise is – they make the exact sound that you get when you squeeze a squeaky toy. It’s pretty funny!
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Freezer camp!! Snort, guffaw, snort!
and
Freezer Camp is my new favorite term. May I steal it? Is that hen blue? She looks like she is almost indigo (heh, pretty fancy talk). Very beautiful hen. Although I am a native Hoosier and see chickens at farms all the time, I never realized that both male and female had the red on the head. Thanks for teaching this old dog something new.
You may certainly steal Freezer Camp, but in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that I didn’t come up with it – I saw it on LisaNH’s flickr stream at some point in the past, and have used the hell out of it ever since.
The hen’s black, and has kind of an iridescent blue look to her in certain lights (I’d tell you what kind of chicken she is, but I think she’s just a mutt – I’m 99% sure that either we hatched her ourselves in the incubator, or she was hatched by one of the older hens at some point in the last year, rather than being a purebreed bought from the hatchery). Both males and females generally have red combs, but the males’ combs are big and dark-red and showy, and the females’ combs tend to be smaller and less fancy.
That’s your exciting chicken lesson for the day.
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I guess you have 3 piglets. Two outdoor and one indoor/outdoor bed hog. Of course, I have 3 piglets myself. All three of my cats are bed hogs. Unfortunately it’s MY BED! I swear! I deserve more than a sliver of the side of my queen size bed. You think a human (albeit large) and 3 cats should be able to co-exist on one bed. I’ve started taking charge though – they are learning to move or get the ultimate heave ho.
Every night when I lay in bed and read, Mister Boogers drapes himself across my legs, and then when I want to go to sleep and I push him off my legs (I’m a side sleeper), he growls at me like he thinks he is the BOSS OF ME. It drives me NUTS, because apparently the little bastard thinks I should just stay in one position forever and ever until he’s ready to get up and go his own way. GRRR. And he’s the one cat who isn’t scared of the can of compressed air! Every other cat in the house only has to SEE the can and off they go, but Mister Boogers just lays there like “What?”
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Does this mean that Mr. Friendly gets a “stay of execution?”
And I’m curious, what is the life-span of a chicken if it isn’t eaten first?
Mr. Friendly does, indeed, get a stay of execution. As long as he stays as friendly as he is now, I’m willing to keep him around. I’ve tried to TELL the chickens that it’s in their best interest to be friendly (like Frick was) or personable (like Sassy McGee) or too small to eat (like the Featherheads, Rock Star, and Silkies), but they just never listen to me!
According to this page, the average life expectancy for a chicken is 8 years.
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How does the homemade vanilla extract work with using rum and vodka?? Does it have to age so the alcohol content goes away? I am confused.
I believe it has to age so that the flavor of the vanilla bean infuses the alcohol – otherwise you’d just be adding vodka with a touch of rum to your recipes. Vanilla extract – at least the bottle I have in my kitchen cupboard – is 35% alcohol. The only thing that’ll be missing from my homemade vanilla extract (that’s in my commercially made vanilla extract) is corn syrup. (I don’t know why they put corn syrup in vanilla extract…?)
According to this page, Vodka is often mentioned as the ideal liquor for this because its neutral flavor won’t overshadow that of the vanilla.
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Does Jane know you named a chicken after Mr. Friendly?
I totally did not name that chicken after Jane’s ex-husband, I swear it! I was just tired of trying to discuss the chicken with Fred and not having a name for it and “That friendly chicken” or “Our little buddy” wasn’t working for me.
(Although maybe Buddy McGee would have worked. Hmmm…)
But I’ll admit that occasionally I think of Jane when I’m talking about the damn chicken. Obviously I need to just start naming chickens after journalers.
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I liked Cleese’s house tour video on his blog–note the enormous cat tree in front of the window. But why does he apparently keep some of his cats in a large outdoor cage??
That’s an excellent question! I have no idea – it’s certainly a nice big cage with plenty of plants, though, isn’t it?
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When you say Original 12, do you mean THE VERY FIRST chickens you guys started with? How cool!
Yeah, we still have a goodly number of our original 12 chickens – Oscar for one, I think we have most (if not all) of the Buff Orpingtons (the yellow chickens), and probably a Barred Rock or two. Fred knows better than I do which chickens came from where, but I like the fact that there are some original chickens still around. This makes them… (I had to go check my archives. How the hell did I know when stuff happened before I had an online journal, I ask you?) they’ll be two years old in March.
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Your animals are all gorgeous. Have you thought about doing a coffee table-type book to memorialize them and Crooked Acres?
I hadn’t – but Fred’s got a picture of a White-Crested Black Polish (ie, one of the Featherheads) that will be published in a book about chickens that’s coming out next month!
I miss your commentaries on those nutty Housewives (NY and OC). Did you see the OC end of season get together? Wow, now I think they’re ALL evil, except Lori and Lynn. Not sure about Gretchen. As for Lynn, when they call her dumb I think that’s their euphemism for not a heartless bitch like the rest of them.
I did see the OC end of season get-together, and at this point I loathe Tamra so much that it could come out that Gretchen bilked Jeff out of all his money and tossed his kids out on the street, and I’d still like her more than the bitter, evil, bitchy, hypocritical Tamra. GOD.
Also, I laughed out loud when it came out that Jeanna’d been gossiping about Gretchen on the drive to the set. BUSTED!
I don’t even know why they bothered to bring Laurie to the set, it was like “Hi, how ya doin’, how’s Josh, BYE!”
Lynne lives on her own planet.
As far as the NYC ladies – I’m still blind from seeing Simon in his Speedo and he is the creepiest man on this planet. UGH.
(One day, Ramona’s eyes are going to pop right out of her head and go bouncing across the floor!)
Also, Bethenny makes me laugh my ass off with her one-liners! I loved her “Dis-Countess” remark.
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The day before yesterday, it was kind of chilly and rainy out, so I went upstairs and stretched out on my bed and read for a little while. Rumba was in the cat bed at the end of the bed, and every time I spoke to her, she’d purr loudly for a few minutes before quieting back down.
Eventually, Samba jumped up on the bed and nervously settled against my leg as I read.
As generally happens when I lay on the bed and read on chilly, rainy days, I started to get sleepy. I put down the book and rolled over on my side, and I snoozed for ten or fifteen minutes. When I woke up, I found that Samba had crawled up the bed and was curled up against my stomach. And when I began petting her, she rolled around and purred.
This is the first time she’s actually come to me and let me pet her – usually I have to grab her as she’s running by and pick her up, and she just tolerates my petting (and kissing!) her. It was nice to know that deep down in her skittish little heart, she kinda likes the love!
Previously 2008: All that said, I can tell you that, somehow, Paula Deen annoys the fucking shit out of me. 2007: Just call me Betty Homemaker. 2006: I swear to god, I have NO CONTROL over what comes out of my mouth sometimes.
2005: No entry. 2004: Dude, what the fuck? I don’t talk for 20 to 30 minutes on the phone to people I know and LIKE, let alone some strange man from the CDC! 2003: A Day in the Life of Mr. Fancypants.
2002: No entry. 2001: But I kinda like the irritability. 2000: My heart stopped, my jaw dropped, and I whispered “Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiit!”
Fred sent me to John Cleese’s blog this morning so I could watch this video. LOVE IT. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * George and Mr. Friendly. (Note: Mr. Friendly did not actually get up on the dog … Continue reading “2/26/09”
George and Mr. Friendly. (Note: Mr. Friendly did not actually get up on the dog himself, he was placed there.)
Mr. Friendly has better places to be, apparently.
The white Silkie. She is SO purty.
George is such a good boy – I walk through the gate, he runs over to greet me, and then he immediately sits, ’cause he knows that’s the way to get a treat. Gracie, on the other hand, has recently lost all memory of sitting – “What’s this ‘sit’ they keep saying to me?!” – and just looks at us like we’re idiots when we tell her to sit. She’s slowly re-learning it, though.
Head Rooster in Charge Michelle is keeping an eye on YOU.
Featherhead keeping an eye on me in case treats should suddenly appear.
Oscar (so named because she resembled an ostrich when she was little), one of our original 12.
One of the chickens we got from the flea market last Fall.
Rock star, just inside the coop – staying out of the wind, but taking some sun.
Giggling pup.
Bob chases off one of the young roosters. “Them’s MY WIMMIN!” says Bob.
Keeping an eye out for trouble.
The Buff rooster and one of his wimmin.
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Last night, after I played with the kittens in the foster room with the laser light, I went into my bedroom where Tommy and Sugarbutt were waiting for me, and I let them chase the laser light for a few minutes. Sheriff Mama (Kara) watched with quite some disapproval as they raced around after the light, and then Sugarbutt ran too close to Kara. She had had QUITE enough of this foolishness, so when he came within smackin’ reach, she reared up and boxed his ears. I laughed until I wheezed.
She has NO tolerance for foolishness.
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Previously 2008: “You (kick) are such (kickkick) an asshole (kickkickkick) get in that goddamn house!” 2007: Christ, what a weekend we had.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry. 2004: God, why why WHY do women do this to themselves? 2003: A Day in the Life of Spanky.
2002: No entry. 2001: Saturday was my dumbass day.
2000: No entry.
