Sights from around Crooked Acres.
This is what was going on here: the ducks (the left of the ramp) were chasing a hen with the intent of mating with her (ducks and chickens can mate, but there’s no conception), and Toasty the rooster was coming down the ramp and was surprised by the ducks, and kind of hopped up in the air.
I am actively trying to get Fred to find a home for one of those male ducks, because they are JERKS and they chase the hens around, and they jump on the girl ducks all the time and I DO NOT LIKE THEM. I know it’s because they’re jerks nature taking its course and all that, but it drives me nuts.
“You haz snack for us, laydee?”
“WAIT WAIT WAIT I’M COMING!”
“I’M COMING TO GET MY SNACK I’M COMING DON’T GIVE MY SNACK TO GEORGE!”
(“If you gave my snack to George, I would make this face.”)
(“But I know you wouldn’t give my snack to George, because you love me.”)
(“But if you didn’t love me, I would look like this all the time.”)
“SNACK, PLEASE.”
The puppins like their snacks.
Happy George.
When the scratch container is full, these hens can reach right into the container when I take the lid off and help themselves. (That black and white hen on the left is one of our original 12 hens and she’s now 5 years old!)
When I go out to the back forty every morning, the girl ducks are in the maternity yard, unable to figure out how to get out (they manage to find their way in every night to lay their eggs), and the boy ducks are right outside the fence waiting. If you ask me, those girl ducks could probably get out of the maternity yard if they WANTED to, but they enjoy the respite from those jerky boys.
“You haz a cookie for me?”
“::sniffsniffsniffSNIFF:: and I can smell that it is a TASTY cookie that you made for me with your own two hands!”
“I will accept your offering.”
“Just make sure you keep ’em coming.”
“You haz cookie for me, too?”
Pink pig is a little more skittish than black pig. Black pig is smaller than pink pig, and in the way of pigs that means that black pig is more brash and pushy than pink pig. Black pig probably has Short Man’s Syndrome.
“Thanks, lady.”
“OMIGOD! IT’S THE COOKIE LADY!”
“I BET SHE HAS COOKIES FOR US!”
“Where our cookies?”
“You haz cookie for me? Black pig isn’t here, you can share the cookies with me.”
“Share cookies with ME, lady. Pink pig went off to take a nap.”
“HER HAND IS IN HER POCKET, THAT MEANS COOKIES!”
“Where our cookies, lady? WHERE COOKIES?!”
“Stupid cookie lady acting like she doesn’t have cookies. Let’s go ignore her, and maybe she’ll bribe us with cookies.”
Gracie likes to walk around the pond with me in the mornings (I go out there to feed the Catfish). She’s obsessed with this root sticking out of the side of the pond, and it’s her life’s goal to pull it out of the ground. Good luck with that, Gracie Mae.
This is my little raised bed garden, behind the back yard. It was such a pain to mow last year that last week I put down weed blocker fabric, and we bought a scoop of mulch at the Co-op (a scoop fills the bed of the truck) and put it down on top of the fabric. I like how it looks.
Is that the happiest catnip you’ve ever seen, or what? I planted those last Summer. In the Fall, I chopped them down almost to the dirt. Over the Winter they grew a bit, and in the last couple of weeks they’ve shot up. I love how happy they look! (In the bed next to the catnip are the carrots I planted last Fall. They’ve finally gotten big enough to eat!)
The garden, pre-planting (well actually, I think Fred had planted the corn. It’s not sprouted yet, though, so it LOOKS unplanted). I’m planning to take a picture once a month or so to document the growth.
Blueberry bushes. I also put weed blocker fabric and mulch down around these, then piled bricks around to hold in the mulch.
Look at all those blueberries!
And one of our grapevines (growing along the fence) will be producing at least one cluster of grapes this year! (Assuming the birds don’t get them, that is.)
To answer the burning question from yesterday’s post, when the kittens come down off of that cat tree, they don’t do the normal thing, which would be to jump down to the platform that’s halfway between the top platform and the floor. Instead, they hook their back feet over the “lip” on the back of the platform and kind of dangle over the side, then grab the pole with their front claws and let go with their back feet, which flips them right-side-up, and then they let go and drop to the floor. Razzie managed to get in such a position that she was braced between the pole and the wall, and she wasn’t quite sure where to go from there, so she just stayed there and tried to figure it out! Then you saw how she solved her dilemma, by landing on her head. Silly Razzie.
After I posted yesterday that Razzie was the only kitten I’d seen eating kibble, Newbery decided to make a liar out of me, and bellied up to the bowl himself. So that’s two of the four that I’ve actually witnessed eating food! And I’m pretty sure they’re all using the litter boxes. I haven’t found any accidents in several days (I only found three puddles where they shouldn’t have been, and that was back when they first started using the litter boxes), so hopefully things will keep going well on both fronts.
Wahhhhhhh! Darwin’s the BAYbee!
“I am NOT the BAYbee! I can wash myself! So there!”
Cute monkey toes.
Hello, gorgeous.
Newbery, hanging out in the cat bed.
“Do I have something in my eye?”
“Um… nope, I don’t see anything.”
“Rub the belly. You know you wanna!”
Eyes changing from blue to green. I think it’s so neat the way they change, from the pupil outward.
Sweet miss Logie.
::thlurrp::
Darwin in mid-tip. Luckily, she caught herself and didn’t fall over.
::CHOMP::
Logie and Darwin (I think. Might be Razzie.)
SO. CUTE.
Razzie’s got Newbery pinned. The look on Newbery’s face cracks me UP.
Three little tabbies (and Logie’s behind).
Happy Joe Bob.
“What? I can leave the scratcher if I want to!”
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Previously
2011: “Don’t judge me.”
2010: Dreamy little Corbett.
2009: Let us talk about little Bessie.
2008: The pigs like chocolate.
2007: “Please, lady? Can’t I go out?”
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.