Best review of Twilight (the book, not the movie) I’ve read. It would be as if you or I were dating an apple fritter. made me laugh my ass off. & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &   Sometimes when Fred and … Continue reading “11-12-08”

Best review of Twilight (the book, not the movie) I’ve read. It would be as if you or I were dating an apple fritter. made me laugh my ass off.

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Sometimes when Fred and I are sitting in the living room watching TV, I consider screaming and flailing wildly, then jumping up and running down the hall and out the back door.

Just to see what he’d do.

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Monday night after it got dark out, Fred and I spent an hour moving the chickens to the new coop. Rather than moving them one-by-one (which would have taken forever), we put them in a big carrier, six or seven at a time and carried them out in that. Fred caught the chickens one by one, and I lifted and lowered the door to the carrier as he put them in. Most of them were pretty quiet once they were in the carrier, but there was one bitchy little squawker who acted like we were strangling her, she screamed when Fred caught her, screamed once she was in the carrier, and screamed all the way to the new coop. Fucking drama queen.

(By the way, we waited until after dark so we could just get them straight from the coop rather than having to chase them around the chicken yard.)

We left them in the coop all day yesterday so they’d imprint on it as home, and Fred went out several times to check on them. They seemed to be adjusting pretty well, especially considering that we put the twenty-five small chicks (ranging in age from 6 to 10 weeks) in with the forty grown chickens. (Yes, we have sixty-five chickens. We also have twenty-six more on the way. Shaddup.) Fred had read somewhere that the best time to merge two flocks is when you’re moving them to a new coop. It seemed to work pretty well.

Now they have a huge chicken yard to roam around in, and hopefully we won’t lose any of them to passing hawks.

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2008-11-12 (1)
Pretty sure that little one in the front is a rooster.

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Yesterday morning, Fred got the gates on the front part of the new chicken yard put up, and then he had no plans. I’d mentioned the day before the idea of venturing up to Tennessee, but Fred hadn’t wanted to, so I figured we’d be hanging around the house all day. After he got the gates up, he asked if I still wanted to go to Tennessee. I did, so we headed out.

Before we got too far, we decided that neither of us was really in the mood for the long drive, so we ended up going to the movie store and picking up movies, then going out to lunch at Logan’s Roadhouse before going home and hanging out for the rest of the day watching movies.

We got about ten minutes into 88 Minutes and Fred needed a nap, so he sacked out on the couch while I went upstairs and hung out with the kittens. He called up to me when he was awake again, so I came back downstairs and we watched some more of the movie. With about fifteen minutes left in the movie, the phone rang. I talked to my sister for a few minutes, and while I talked Fred fell asleep on the couch again for about twenty minutes.

When he woke up again, he went out to feed the pigs and I went to clean the kitchen. Then we finished the movie, and let me tell you – that movie was clunkily written and horribly acted despite the cast of usually good actors, and there was a point at the end where Leelee Sobieski threw her head back and laughed in an attempt to be sinister, which I mocked several times, to my great amusement.

We took another break, then sat down to watch The Happening.

(Let me point out here that during both these movies I had my laptop on my lap and I was surfing the entire time, which is the only reason I watched both movies all the way through.)

I knew I was in for a special treat about two minutes into the movie when I turned to Fred and said “Why is Marky Mark talking to these high school students like they’re second graders?” The movie met my expectations, sucking right to the end. I honestly do not understand who in Hollywood keeps giving M. Night Shyamalan money; alls I can guess is that he’s got some really good blackmail material on someone big.

We watched True Blood (I LOVE YOU, SAM) and then I went upstairs to spend some time with the kittens while Fred watched TV. When I came back downstairs, he started watching Paranormal State while I surfed, and he occasionally tried to convince me that we could fake having a ghost problem to get Ryan and the gang to Crooked Acres (when I told him I didn’t want to expend the energy on faking a ghost problem, he suggested we claim Mister Boogers was possessed. That just might work!).

We started the latest episode of Heroes, which Fred paused about ten minutes in and said “I honestly don’t care about this show any more” and I said “Me either!”, so he deleted it and we watched Dirty Jobs instead.

So yeah, it was a total slacker, TV-watching, nap-taking day for us. Fred’s been working so hard on the chicken coop and fencing the back forty that I think he deserved it. I haven’t necessarily been working so hard, but hey – someone needed to keep him company, right?

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I learned something yesterday. For days I’ve been going upstairs to hang out with the kittens, and wondering why they weren’t exploring the upstairs. Sometimes one or two of them would be hanging out in my room and go running back to the kitten room when I appeared. But once I was upstairs, they’d never leave the kitten room.

Yesterday, I hung out with them for a few minutes and then I thought Hmm… I wonder if they’d come hang out with me in my room? I went into my room, lay down on the bed and started reading, and within a few minutes the kittens started appearing on the bed beside me. Eventually all four of them were on the bed with me, rolling around and purring. Apparently the reason they were spending all their time hanging out in the kitten room while I was upstairs is because I was in there.

Ya learn something new every day!

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Jazz paws!

More pictures over at L&H.

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Oh, the humiliation!

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2007: Whatever I do, I’m sure it’ll be exciting!
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: NOTHING gets by him. NOTHING.
2003: Yep. When you have a crush on a fictional character and whine about how no one in a NOVEL is telling you anything, it’s about time to get a life, say true.
2002: Obviously she’d never taken Customer Service 101, wherein the “‘Thanks!’ = go away” equation is covered thoroughly.
2001: Poor Sadie. Those damn mean cats just refuse to play with her…
2000: No entry.
1999: No entry.