Nance titled this one “Robyn takes it to a new level of nasty”, and I have to say, she ain’t kiddin’. My only excuse is that it was late (which you can tell by looking at my squinched-closed eyes).
So yes, we have a boat.
We haven’t been out on the boat yet – Fred is going to pick it up tonight (I think) and get a lesson from the guy who’s selling it to us, and then we’ll take it out Friday and likely at some point (or points) over the weekend and when I don’t update on Monday it’ll be because we’re stranded somewhere on the river and I’m bellowing “Oh, you haaaaaaad to have a boat!” at Fred. That’s the plan at the moment, anyway, things could change.
I decreed that the boat’s name is going to be the Stanley B, which was one of Mister Boogers’ nicknames, and is more nautical and jaunty-sounding than “Mister Boogers” would be, but Fred has said that he doesn’t necessarily agree to that (he suggested the Sea Chicken or Sea Kitten).
I like how he thinks he has any choice in the matter.
These kittens, oh. I can’t stand how cute they are. The worst part is that they have each other to play with, so they’re mostly uninterested in me, so they go running by me to jump on each other, and sometimes I have to grab them and force a snuggle. They are most unimpressed by the forced snuggles, let me tell you.
Probably once their eyes are improved and I don’t have to put terramycin in them three times a day, they might warm up to me a little. Something about seeing a tube of ointment poking at their eyes seems to put them off, go figure.
Yes, the little black kitten is cross-eyed, but it doesn’t slow him down in the least. To be honest, it makes him look even more adorable, if you ask me! (And, the black kitten is a boy – I sat and stared at the kittens for a long time yesterday, and except for two of them, I can tell them apart (since you’re curious, I know, we have “biggest kitten with lots of white on his face, girl kitten with almost as much white on her face as the biggest kitten, diamond-faced hernia boy, black kitten, and the two brown tabbies I can’t tell apart.” But I’m working on it!)
I got one of them to purr for a brief moment yesterday during a forced snuggle (and by “forced snuggle”, all I mean is that I pick them up, hold them against my chest, and pet them ’til they either meow sadly or try to turn around to jump down. I don’t try to hold them if they’re actively struggling against it, I promise), then he remembered that I don’t impress him much, and he squinted up at me and refused to purr any more.
Silly little brats – I will make you love me!
I brought some canned food into the kitten room yesterday morning, because I think it’s never too soon to start spoiling them and causing that “Lady brings us yummy food, therefore we LIKE the lady!” connection in their little brains. Most of them sniffed at the food and moved along to the solid food in the bowls. The little black one, though, climbed onto one of the plates of canned food and ate and ate and ate. He finished off that plate (which held 1/3 of a small can of cat food) and moved on to a second plate. I didn’t want him to get sick, so I let him have a little of that plate, then I took it away from him. He glared at me with his funny little cross-eyed glare, and then allowed me to rub his belly.
All heart, that one.
2008: Meet Michele the chicken!
2007: (Miz Poo, upon seeing me pick up a fly swatter and walk toward her, whines and runs away. Like I beat her spoiled ass on a regular basis! I don’t, but I oughta. She deserves it.)
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: The morning I wake up and find a cricket in bed with me is the day I start closing the cat door at night, believe you me.
2003: I HAVE THINGS TO DO THAT CANNOT BE ACCOMPLISHED WITH A PORTLY POO IN THE WAY.
2002: No entry.
2001: Yeah, like YOU don’t have a voice in your head that reads things to you…
2000: No entry.