So yes, we had some “severe” weather in Alabama on Friday, but luckily not around here. All I knew at the beginning of the day was that it might get stormy later on, and then around noon Fred called and told me that it was supposed to get really bad in about 45 minutes. 45 minutes later as I was sitting in the living room with my parents, half-watching the weatherman on TV, he called back again to let me know that it was going to be SUPER BAD in “about 45 minutes” and I told him I didn’t believe him and sure enough – we got some rain and a lot of wind and the tornado sirens went off a few times, but that was about it.
As the wind was blowing, I said to my mother “Wouldn’t your other kids get pissed off if you came on vacation to Alabama and got killed by a tornado while you were here?” and she laughed.
No tornado, no big tree in the front yard falling onto the house, thank god.
I did notice, when we were hanging out with the kittens (Beulah took a liking to my mother and climbed up on her legs and fell asleep not once, but twice) that every time the wind blew particularly hard, the kittens would pause and look around like little meerkats.
My parents arrived here Thursday afternoon, and it was bright and sunny and warm. Friday was a wash, weather-wise, and Saturday was cold and gray. Yesterday they went to Tuscaloosa to visit my father’s sister (they’ll be back Tuesday), and it was warm and sunny until late afternoon. Last night, rain. Today, rain. Tomorrow? Who knows? Maybe more rain.
I hope they’re having nicer weather in Tuscaloosa!
Fred got the garden tilled yesterday after dithering about it – it was really too wet, but with the rain coming last night and the next stretch of rain-free days not coming along anytime soon, yesterday was really the only day he could do it. He did it, and got the planting done, and I think you know that we can’t WAIT ’til the next few months go by and we’re eating fresh squash and tomatoes on a regular basis.
So far we’ve fed my parents a Crooked Acres chicken (in the form of chicken pot pie), some Crooked Acres pig (in the form of ham steaks, which they agreed tastes very much like beef), lots of Crooked Acres vegetables (corn on the cob, vegetable medley), and Saturday morning we had a big breakfast (bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, biscuits).
Come to Crooked Acres! We’ll feed you animals we raised ourselves!, that’s our motto.
I also made a batch of Surprise Cookies on Saturday, and I’d say they were a hit (I put milk chocolate chips in half the batch and semi-sweet chips in the other half). I think they’d actually be just as good without the glaze on top, but I might think that because I have NO skillz when it comes to drizzling glaze on cookies – or on anything, for that matter.
We haven’t really done anything but hang around the house, but I’m planning to drag my mother to the movies after they get back from Tuscaloosa, and I’m sure we can find other things to do (I did get her to walk to the post office and dollar store with me on Saturday; hopefully the excitement wasn’t too much for her!).
Spanky and Sugarbutt targeted my mother as being the one most likely to give them some human food at dinnertime. Thursday and Friday night Spanky politely stood on his hind legs next to my mother and politely patted at her arm. Saturday, Sugarbutt joined in on the other side, and she gave in and they each got a little bit of pork steak and wanted more.
Rude little brats.
Luckily, aside from crowing about how he’s going to spend “all that extra money” on hookers and blow (he was paid $0.00 and a free copy of the book, if you’re curious), he’s not letting it go to his head.
The Rock Star and the Featherhead, on the other hand, are demanding fresh bugs three times daily and their own waterer so they won’t have to mix with “the commoners.”
So, I took this Real Age test recently, and I have to say – I’m a bit skeptical.
My “virtual age” is 25.3? I sincerely doubt it. Also, I’m pretty sure I have no real desire to live to be 90. I think early 80s is just about as far as I want to go.
(Ask me again when I’m 78, though!)
I weighed the kittens Saturday evening, and can announce two things, regarding our wee Miss Beulah:
1. She gained TWO AND A HALF OUNCES in the last week, bringing her up to a whopping 13.5 ounces.
2. (More impressive, as far as I’m concerned) She can now use the litter box and NOT immediately tromp through her poo!
Fred continues to think she’s funny-looking (he also agreed Saturday that “Pip” would be a good name for her!), but I think she just gets cuter. She’s been a lot more willing to pick fights with her brothers and sister lately, and it’s kind of funny to see a kitten more than twice her size squealing because this tiny little thing is biting his or her tail.
Phinneas and Ezra are both just over two pounds now – once the rest of the kittens are at least three ounces over two pounds, I’ll take the whole bunch (except Beulah) in to be spayed and neutered. It’ll be a few more weeks, I’m guessing.
The kittens are continuing to have the run of their room and the bathroom most days. There’s a very tall litter box in the bathroom, and the kittens insist on using it even though it’s pretty difficult for them to climb into it. They’ll get in there two or three at a time and kick the litter around – it’s funny to see how thrilled they are.
For now, since they’re not showing any real interest in moving beyond the bathroom, I’m going to keep them confined to the foster room and bathroom. My parents are visiting, and the guest bedroom is where Stinkerbelle likes to hang out – since she can’t hang out in there (we make all guests keep the bedroom door closed at all times so a cat can’t sneak in and pee on something; yes, that’s right, we ARE a class act around here!) she hangs out in my room. So since I don’t want to block off her access to my room, I won’t let the kittens go into my room ’til Stinkerbelle can hang out in the guest bedroom again.
More kitten pics over at L&H.
2008: No entry.
2007: Feel free to cut and paste, assholes, though I fully understand if you prefer something with a few more misspellings.
2006: Must… resist… evil… urge…
2005: “Ah JEEZUS, here she goes again with the Gatlinburg! She goes for four days and talks about it for four weeks!”
2004: Oh. My. Eyes.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Entries I liked.
2000: No entry.