Winter is spent mostly indoors, at least for me - and Clyde - and Zoe - and Ghost, other than the household chores and ever nasty chore of keeping Clyde's litter box clean, there isn't a lot to do. I'm on the treadclimber 30 minutes a day, 30 L-O-N-G minutes followed by much gasping and swearing I'm never doing it again and then I do it again, then a shower, it still leaves a lot of minutes in the day.
I take a lot of photos and they are scattered throughout my Nikon site and now Picasa and I'm making an attempt to get more organized. When I'm searching for a particular photo, I don't want to have to go through over 600 folders, I want it to magically appear with a single (or two) word.
It's a job and after awhile my head starts spinning so I have to quit and take it up another day. During my search, I always come across photos that I just like and don't really have a place for them so this is 'some of my favorite photos' blog.
Bruce took this one of Clyde and I, it's typical of a cat, nothing you are doing could be as important as holding him on my lap.
I could be researching a cure for halitosis.
I could be googling some long lost relative.
I could be entering an online contest to win a million dollars.
"Not important," Clyde says, "Hold me."
So I do.
This is Herbert, my favorite rooster of all time. Herbert is a Salmon Favarolle, he and I met at the Clay County Fair and it was love at first sight, at least on my part. He was in a cage in the poultry building with a 'For Sale' sign and a phone number. I was almost rooster-less, if you didn't count Stuart, a little sawed off Cochin rooster who was shunned by the big hens. I dialed the phone number and finally reached a young man who lived just north of Spencer and was willing to part with Herbert for a mere $25 and the deal was made.
I had to wait until the fair was over to bring him home, Herbert had lived his entire life of 6 months in a cage so he didn't quite know what to do when I set him on the grass outside the coop. He ran a little ways, then back to me, shuffled his feet and looked up as though to ask, "Is that alright?"
"Yes, Herbert, that is perfectly alright."
He was a very nerdy rooster, that was why I named him Herbert. He was quite the gentleman with the ladies, if they weren't in the mood, well, he wasn't going to force the issue. It took a long time for him to assert his dominance over Stuart, it was quite the battle but Herbert persevered. What I loved about him was his gentleness, he was never mean to me, unlike Foghorn Leghorn who attacked me at every turn.
Herbert was no dummy, one winter day he found himself on a chunk of ice and couldn't walk, when I called his name he answered so I could rescue him. Herbert lived to the ripe old age of 4 and died in the coop with his ladies in attendance.
These were our twin boys, Smitty, right and Spike, I rescued them, along with their sister, from a car wash in Cherokee when their mother was killed in the street. I found a home for the sister but Smitty and Spike were here to stay. They have since both gone to kitty heaven but they were quite the pair.
It's nearly calving season on the farm, this is a newborn baby, testing out his legs.....
....a day later, scrubbed clean by his mother, sporting his own ear tag.
|"C'mon, Ma, enough is enough."|
Bruce shucking sweet corn for dinner on the front porch, with a little help from Barbara and Diana, the Buff Orpingtons.
It's summertime and a family picnic at Leo's Pond, where the time honored tradition of throwing rocks across the water. Levi first has a warmup dance to get ready, look at those moves!
Zoe, the eternal optimist.....
|"The birds will come to the feeder, won't they?"|
This is how you keep warm in the winter...
....find some cats to cuddle up with, hopefully at least three.