We were DAMN lucky.
So instead of spending all evening painting, we spent all evening dragging the tree to the back forty, next to the burn pile. Well. I myself dragged six or seven (big! heavy!) branches back to the burn pile, then spent lots of time standing around watching Fred work. And playing with Momma and Daddy Kitty and their kittens, who appear to have taken up residence in our garage.
Seeing as how possession is 9/10ths of the law I think that means they belong to us and we could take them in to be fixed, right?
Yeah, Fred didn’t see it that way, either. He’s still going to talk to the cats’ owners.
The cats and kittens would come out, play on the fallen tree, then run away when Fred came back with the tractor to drag some more of it to the back forty. When he was done, Fred said “I sure am glad I didn’t kill any cats while I was doing this. I was afraid I was going to!”
Momma and Daddy had been keeping a close eye on the kittens, though, and made sure to chase them away from the tree if there was any danger. They’re good parents, those two.
At one point Fred was using the chainsaw to cut a limb, and Momma Kitty went running by with something in her mouth. I looked closer as she ran by and realized she had a seriously mangled dead squirrel. She ran into the garage and wandered out again a few minutes later.
“Um. Whatcha do with that squirrel, Momma?” I asked. She blinked at me and strolled away. Later, I found the squirrel hidden under the stairs in the garage. Like Momma was saving it in case there was a hungry time in the future and no cat food in the bowls.
Seriously. If Momma Kitty’s using the stairs under my garage as storage, doesn’t that mean she considers it her home?
“Nope, I didn’t do it. Really! It was… um… the squirrel! The squirrel did it! Which is why Momma had to kill him.”
I guess they’re not completely weaned. And doesn’t Momma look thrilled about it! Poor Momma. Those kittens are practically as big as she is!
As it got dark, Fred yelled for me to come to the back yard and pointed to the back forty. Low-lying fog was starting to roll in. It looked pretty neat.
Fred’s eventually going to cut this tree down. When the other tree was standing, it looked okay because they were next to each other, but now that the other one is gone, it looks kind of funny. Plus it kind of looks like it’s ready to keel over at any second anyway.
Once it was too dark to get anything else done outside (Fred managed to get the entire tree dragged (drug?) back to the burn pile area of the back forty (and I need to get a picture of the burn pile. That fucker is HUGE.)), we went inside where I started painting a door and Fred started painting the room that was going to be his room, but is now likely going to be the guest bedroom. I hadn’t even finished ONE SIDE of ONE DOOR when he came in, said he was done painting the room (just the walls, not around the trim) and ready to go because he was tired and starting to get sore. He helped me finish the ONE SIDE of ONE DOOR, and then we left.
Tonight we plan to do nothing but paint. Fred will probably get the entire downstairs, garage, shed, and outside of the house painted. Maybe I’ll get ONE SIDE of ONE DOOR painted.
I’m a slow painter, but a careful one. Those doors will be somethin’ to look at, that’s for sure.
I hope I mean that in a good way. I’m not sure yet.
“Foot! Leave me alone! Or I will kick your butt!”
“Pillow! Leave me alone! Or I will kick your butt!”
Quite clearly it is a rough and difficult life for Maddy. Please, won’t someone save her from the daily torture and strife?
More pictures are here.