8-28-13 – Crooked Acres Wednesday

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.


The chickens come over to see if we’ve got anything good for them.


The Rock Star shows off her fancy ‘do. Yes, it’s lopsided. Good thing I don’t cut hair (feathers) for a living!


“Girrrrrrrrl, she gave you a mullet!”

At least she can see around her, and that’s what’s important! Right?


Slurpin’ George.


Head-shakin’ George.


Little chick. I love her leg feathers.


Last picture of Arnold. I’m sorry to tell y’all that Arnold passed away unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. I’ve told Fred that I’ll have no more hatchery chicks in this household – we had terrible luck with them this year, but the chickens we bought at the flea market are happy and healthy and have given us no problems at all.


Another chick (we’ve got five of them at the moment, all belonging to one hen.)


Check out the comb on that rooster! This guy came from the batch of chicks we got at the aforementioned flea market. He’s big and healthy, not aggressive toward us, and most importantly, he’s good with the hens. He’ll be staying around.


Uh oh. I don’t know what you did wrong, but George is NOT amused. Look at that serious face!


Ducks on the pond, where they spend 95% of their time.


Happy George.

WARNING: this next section is what I’m calling the creepy-crawly section. Click here to jump past it to the kittens.

Putting in some space so no one who doesn’t want to has to see the creepies.

Or the crawlies.

Or the creeping crawlies.

Or the crawling creepies.

Space.

Space.

Annnnnd space.


I have no idea what this is, but it’s pretty! Anyone know what it is?


“I vant to be alone,” Mrs. Brown said reclusively.


Another shot of that spider. I don’t know that it’s a Brown Recluse, and asking Google only gets me pictures of people with their faces half rotted off from Brown Recluse bites, so I’m just going to say that it might be. And it was in my shower. And now it’s dead.


Last year, we had a spider exactly like this one in the exact same location (front flower bed). I called her Dolores. Thus, we call this one Dolores, too. She’s an Orb Weaver, and she minds her own beeswax, so we just leave her alone, although we do go look at her from time to time to see if she’s doing anything interesting (she’s never doing anything interesting, FYI.)


Dolores in her wet web after it rained. Dolores ain’t skeered of no rain.

Putting in some space so that the people who clicked to jump past the creepy crawlies won’t accidentally see that picture of Dolores.

A little more space.

More? Just a little.

Annnd… just a bit more.

Okay, that should do it.

Right?

Right!

Space.

Space.

Space.

(Just to be safe.)


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Sweet, sleepy Hodor.


Fred put in these shelves because a couple of times recently Stinkerbelle has been trapped on top of the bookcase with no way down, since there were kittens on the cat tree (that she usually uses to get down). So he put some shelves on one side, and more on the other, and voila! Of course, the kittens had to be the quality inspectors for the shelves, just to be safe.


This shelf gets the Inspector Brandon Whiskers Up award.


Kittens on the cat tree.


The cat tree also gets the Whiskers Up award!


Brandon in the sun.


Always has something to say, that Jon Snow. I’m sure I wasn’t quick enough to pet him or pick him up or kiss him or SOMEthing. Pardon ME.


Arya laying there with her tongue stuck out for no apparent reason.


Hodor, having Hodor thoughts.


Norbie checks out the ceiling fan.


It’s really quite amazing!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Jake gets his loon on.


He is just such a silly boy.

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Previously
2012: Sweet Petey Pickle in the sun.
2011: No entry.
2010: No entry.
2009: Did I mention they’re busy racing around like wild things?
2008: “Is this such a good idea, hanging out here under the bird feeders, with that cat RIGHT THERE?” he wonders.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.

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