We’re in the process of moving all our sites over to a new server. If things look wonky around here this weekend, that’s why. Fred’s going to move my site over Friday evening or Saturday morning, so things should be all set by Monday.
In lieu of a real entry today, sights and scenes from around Crooked Acres.
“Hey! Can someone come babysit? I need a minute to myself…”
Momma and baby. It’s kind of freaky how pale her comb got while she was sitting on her eggs.
She’s a rock star. Actually, since someone commented that they always think of showgirls when they see the featherheads, I’ve been thinking of them as “Lola.” I think this black-crested golden polish is so pretty – I love her colors.
“Momma? MOMMA?”
I think Lola’s got a crush on Michele. She’s always hanging around him.
“I don’t know. I can’t see a darn thing. I think I need to speak to my girl; she’s not cutting my hair short enough.”
“MOMMA!”
“::sigh:: You again?”
Juvenile assassin bug, eating a fly.
I actually had a dream the other night that I fell into the wallow. It was not a happy dream because that wallow is NASTAY.
It’s a rough life.
I made a second movie the day before yesterday (right after I made the gigantic-kittens-nursing video). I call this one “It’s good to be king.”
::thlurrrp::
Snoozin’ Zoe.
Kara likes to hang out atop the bookcase in the front room. I told Fred that since she’s staked out a place of her own, we have to keep her. He did not agree.
Inara gets in this box and hisses at anyone who comes near. She cracks me up, because our cats look at her like “Yeah? Your point?”
I have no idea why Newt likes to hang out atop the truck tire, but he does it a lot, no matter the weather.
Previously
2007: “It’s not a tumah,” he said, as is standard.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Give me time, I’ll have fifteen different versions of “Xanadu” in my music folder.
2003: MY ARM HURTS.
2002: I think no one ever told Billy Bob that if you ANNOUNCE you’re taking the high road, then you aren’t taking it.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.