Happy Labor Day!
New Dumbversation video podcasts up, you lucky, lucky people!
Scenes from around Crooked Acres:
Mommas and babies.
Copper Black Marans rooster. I love how it looks like he’s wearing feather shoes.
The small coop (the first one Fred built for our original 12 chickens) is now the maternity ward for broody chickens. See the buckets on the floor of the coop? We bought those at the flea market last weekend. They originally held buttercream frosting, and still slightly smell like frosting. I like to think that the chickens are sitting on their eggs thinking “Why do I keep craving birthday cake…?”
Happy pigs.
Michelle the rooster. His two lone tail feathers crack me up.
Rhode Island Red rooster.
The turkeys have been moved to the back forty. They’re not sure how they feel about chickens.
Dancing rooster.
Amish rooster.
The Roadrunner. Isn’t he the gooniest looking thing? He’s all leg! (Fred’s pretty sure he’s a Cornish.)
Happy George.
Happy Gracie.
George comes to investigate the situation.
“Hey, lady! You has the snackin’ for us?!”
I think this is star jasmine – anyone know for sure? I trained it to go up the fence because I thought it was clematis, but it’s definitely not that.
I think this is a newly hatched batch of assassin bugs. They hung out on this leaf for two days before they scattered.
The kittens are continuing to do well. I spent a lot of time hanging out with them this weekend, and more than once I was pinned to the floor by six snoozing kittens. When a kitten falls asleep on you, it’s bad luck to wake them up. True story! All you can do is lay there and maybe snooze along with them.
::slurrrrrp::
::slurrrrp::
Hoping that feather toy comes low enough for him to grab…
Bill has such a serious little face. I always say to him, “Billy, don’t be a hero.” He doesn’t appreciate my humor.
Hoyt, in a biting mood.
Sam the lap sitter, joined by Terry on my leg.
“WE HAS COMPLAINTS.”
Happy Newtles.
Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Pretty good for kittens I was absolutely positive would be unadoptable due to their feral nature when I first saw them, ain’t it?
2006: Say, any of you boys smithies? Or, if not smithies per se, were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts before straightened circumstances forced you into a life of aimless wanderin’?
2005: I didn’t get any pictures of it, but last night the stank coming off Rambo’s hindquarters was so strong that we finally gave in to the inevitable and gave him a bath.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS WHO IT IS.
2000: Am I not an ass-kicking WalkAerobics diva?