Tuesday, October 02, 2012
So - for the past 2.5 weeks I've been MIA from SP and have missed it terribly. We have been literally overwhelmed with building the shop/moving my husbands household/prepping that house to rent (oh and it is 100 miles away from us)/harvesting enough food to feed the county/pet death/and a back injury (me). Nevertheless, I still lost a few pounds and several inches. Yea me!
But no one wants to hear those mundane things and I sure don't feel like writing about them. I do lead a very weird life so I thought I'd share the latest weird news - both sad and ridiculous and really, really random. You will understand why I've not had much time to devote to here.
About a week and a half ago Joe and I were on our way over the mountain to continue packing up his house. (Please understand - the man makes a pack rat look possession poor so this is no easy task.) We stopped at McDonalds for coffee for me so I could stay awake for the 2 hour drive and lo and behold - Joe found himself a kitten.
The kitten was actually a Kitler (see website - cats that look like hitler for reference) who ran up to him and when I picked it up it started purring and headbutting me and then jumped onto his shoulder and wouldn't let go. It was pathetically skinny.
"Hon - can we keep him????" Now - most of you might think that was me asking. Nope. Joe wanted critter #5. So back to the house to drop said kitten (who in the 5 minute drive back to the house had been named Norman) in the guest bathroom with food and water and a litter box and toys with the understanding that Norman had to be isolated until he could get checked out by a vet. Come Monday I took Norman to the vet and he was diagnosed with the bad kind of feline leukemia and testicular cancer. He was in a lot of pain when the exam went on and was given at best - a month. Norman was a very sick kitty so I talked with Joe and told him Norman wasn't going to make it. Joe was heartbroken. We brought him home and buried him on our property because he deserved to have a home and a marker to show he was a good kitty. Joe still tears up when he thinks about it.
That was bad critter story. Now for ridiculous.
I had to have a 'discussion' with our chickens last week and establish who is head chicken. I've previously discussed my bird issues and darn it - Agatha must have read the post - because she's been pecking at me and chasing me when I go in the coop. I am being bullied by a chicken. And its kind of humiliating if you think about it. So last time she pecked my knees I flicked her back. Wow. I didn't actually think a chicken could get a surprised look on their face but she sure did. Well, it might have been more outrage, but you get the idea. There was a ton of flapping and stomping and boy did she get loud. But we know who is head chicken now.
As for our other critters, they are apparently being paid by the birds on our property to ruin Joe's quail hunts.
We are overrun by quail here. Overrun as in there are so many they are bringing in predators who may harm the chickens or the cats. I love quail but the hawks are trying to hunt them and we have signs that the cougar might be back. So - Joe is trying to reduce the number of quail. Trying is the key word here.
On Saturday we were on the roof and I looked up and saw a hawk eyeing the 50 or so quail running around our fruit trees. Joe decided to get his shotgun. So he grabbed it from his truck and I stayed up on the roof to watch the ensuing fiasco unfold.
He slowly started creeping up on the quail - crouched down, step by step - getting closer and closer. He finally got to his 'prefect' spot and got down on one knee.
Meanwhile, about 10 yards back, little did he know that HE was being stalked too. Kiki started creeping up on Joe - crouched down, step by step - getting closer and closer. She finally got to her 'perfect' spot - which was on Joe's back. She started purring and rubbing up on him and he's trying to push her away. That was one determined cat. As he lifted the shot gun - all the quail flew away. And the hawk got one.
Hawk = 1.
Cat = 1.
Joe = 0.
Next day - we are up on the roof and the quail were back. So Joe hopped down off the roof and grabbed his gun. He started creeping up on the quail - crouched down, step by step - getting closer and closer and took a knee. He raised the shot gun and ...
Dudley started running up to him with his hackles all up.
"Hey! You can't do that here! This is private property!!! Can't you read the posted signs??! Stop that! - Oh! Hi Dad - wanna play? Look at my apple! Looks just like a ball! Wanna rub my belly???"
Quail = 49
Dudley = "1"
Joe = 0
Joe has a great sense of humor - he just started laughing and said to me - "I promise - I really can hunt birds." After 3 previous unsuccessful grouse hunts (one in which a bird walked 4 feet from him and he didn't see it) I wasn't so sure anymore. I asked him not to shoot Aggie just to prove it.
And now for the random weirdness. Aside from Joe wanting to get another chicken AND goats, he now wants old people too.
Our friends are planning on opening up 2 of the rooms in their new farm house for adult foster care. (Slight background - they came to our place and fell in love and immediately started looking to buy a place in the country.) Anyway, the husband was telling us how adult foster care works (or rather how it will work for his wife to care for these people) and Joe turned to me and said "Hon - can we do that too?"
I literally had to say - "No Joe - you can't keep any old people."
Of course, this is after she's had to tell her husband that he can't get a big generator or fire trailer or tractor or any of the other things Joe has gotten since we moved on the farm.
So our friend's wife and I have made a deal. Our husbands are no longer allowed to have play dates together.