Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

dispatches from the Fort Worth Stock Show

Saturday, 8:47 a.m.: The humans have forced me into this awful cage against my will. I'm backed into a corner here. The females seem to think I'm some sort of shower puff. Someone, anyone...please... I have two hundred brothers and sisters in the next room. Tell them to stage an uprising. Tell them to use teeth and claws if they must. Tell them they must KILL so that we may be FREE! Tell them to bring hay...



Zzzzz...aren't you a pretty pullet...zzzzzzzzzz...corn...zzzzzzzzz...no, I said CRICKETS!...zzzzzz....*cough cough*...zzzzzz...cockadoodle who? cockadoodle THIS....



I SAY! You there! Would you kindly bring this old fellow a cup of tea? The chap in the next cage is QUITE intolerable - been asleep for hours. AND he snoooores. This place is SIMPLY uncivilized. There's NO service to speak of, and ALL I get is stared at all day. I say!



Oooh, I just hate these social functions. I'm always so awkward. I'm really more of a homebody anyway, you know. Everyone stares at my hair. As if I could help it that it's naturally voluminous. People pay big money for this at salons, you know. I don't think these shoes go with this outfit. I should have gone with the brown shoes. How embarrassing. Maybe I can just try to blend in...



Well, this is a fine how do you do! Shavings! The nerve of these people. Shavings! Harumph. This will cost me a pretty penny at the salon tomorrow. I'd better tell them to book me for the whole day.



Hey, get your butt outta my face!
You get your butt outta MY face!
Bacon booty!
Hammy Hiney!
Fat back!
Scrapplehead!
Oh, just shut up and go to sleep!
...okay.



MAKEUP!! I need a tissue over here! Doesn't ANYONE have a tissue?? How about a towel? Anyone?



You want in, it's five bucks. No, I'm sorry, I dunno ya sistah. You want in, it's five bucks. No, da band don't start for anudda two hours but ya still gotta pay. I don't care who you're datin', your not on da list. C'mon now, I don't want no trouble outta you. Lesss see some I.D. You gonna give me lip? Datz what I tought. Five bucks. No, I ain't got change.

Friday, January 29, 2010

the votes are in

Thanks to everyone for voting in the Battle of the Cockerels! Thanks to you, we were spared the difficult decision of who would stay and who would fade away. Our man Elvis came out on top, with Little A handily taking second place. It was a close battle between Winston and Roscoe for third place, but in the end Winston staged a breakaway to prevail by four votes. Unfortunately for Winston, his only prize will be the thrill of victory. We have decided to only keep two roosters rather than three. Sorry Winston, you'll be missed.

Roscoe, good showing! I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you were always destined for the stew pot, so really you should be grateful for even getting a shot at the title.

Phil and Not Winston, how can I put this? Tough break kids, now shove off. And don't let the barn door hit you...

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

reincarnation

See, we have this...structure...that we built. Or rather, that my husband built. It's been around for a couple of years now. It's nothing fancy, and in fact you might say it's rather crude, but it is a chameleon of a thing. It seems to have an uncanny knack for serving whatever purpose we need it to serve in the moment. Here it is at its birth, when it was a rabbit hutch:



After awhile, we moved the rabbit cages into the barn, and when the ducks arrived, we converted this into a house for them. We cut the legs off, knocked out the solid sides, extended the front by several feet, hung a door and enclosed the whole thing with welded wire. Here they are, not enjoying it:



Shortly thereafter, the ducks turned up their bills at the accommodations and moved out. Conveniently, we had new tenants waiting to take up residence:



All it took was the addition of some roosts and some smaller-weave poultry netting to transform it from DuxHostel to Casa de Pollo. The chickens like it just fine, thank you very much.

Ah, but they'll be moving out soon too. Pretty soon their dee-luxe accommodations will be complete, and they will all be moving into the poultry penthouse, leaving the structure empty once more. Around that time, the goat barn will no longer be co-ed. The boys will be needing their own dorm. As we sat on the porch over the weekend, planning their shelter, we looked over at the rabbit-duck-chicken-hutch-coop...


"I think the goats' shelter could be about that size. The height is fine. It's plenty deep and wide enough too."'

"Okay, then. I'll use that as a guide and build their shelter more or less to those dimensions."

"Wait...why don't we just use that?"

"Hmmm...yeah...the chickens will be moved out. I'll need to fortify it a bit."

"...and put a roof over the whole thing, and pull off the wire and add on some solid walls."

"Done."


Ouila! Maison de Chevres! I can't wait to see what it turns into next.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

ladies and gentlemen, I look like sh*t

Let's be clear: I could never be described as being "beauty conscious". Far from it, in fact. Of all the things in life that weigh heavily (or even lightly) on my mind, the acceptability of my appearance is rarely among them. Think of the least beauty conscious person you know, and know that I am even less beauty conscious than that. (Unless you know me, and the person you were thinking of was me, in which case, you're spot on.)

Nevertheless...

After a full year plus a bit of manure, dirt, blood, mud, manure, dog hair, rain, manure, grass, feathers, manure, sun, wind, grit, manure, vomit, hooves, food splatter and manure, I evidently JUST NOW decided to look in a mirror. And let me tell you, I have really gone to the dogs. I haven't had a haircut in a year. I have permanent eye-baggage. All my clothes have holes or stains. My nails are usually ragged, broken and dirty, never mind polished. Let's not even discuss shaving. How my wonderful husband finds the fortitude just to come home every night, I'll never know.

I am taking my hot mess of a self to the S-P-A. Ladies with phony cosmetic faces will come at me from all sides with scissors and files and potions and creams. They'll peel off my exoskeleton of crud, and I will emerge fresh and new. I will bravely go forth among the denizens of Botox and collagen I will prevail*. No, it's most certainly not a permanent solution - merely a boot to the fanny which will hopefully kick me back into the human race.


* Don't worry - I'm not doing anything really weird. Just basic maintenance. ;-)

Sunday, October 4, 2009

let this serve as a warning

When you have eggs in your jacket pocket, you'll want to pay attention to what you're doing. You'll want to especially think twice about, say, closing a door with your hip.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

life lesson #243

Yesterday, my husband received the following message from me at the office:

"There's a snake in the chicken coop again. Should I use a BB or a lead pellet inside the coop at close range?"

He says, "Lead pellet, in the head. Wear glasses."

The rest of the event went something like this* (all comments are mine, to him):

"Okay, be right back."

(Find pellets, load up air rifle, march out to chicken coop, ready to dispense justice. Pellet becomes jammed, no shot fired. March back to house.)

"Crap. I just jammed my air rifle. Going with the machete instead."

(Locate machete purchased some weeks ago. Still in the bag, still in its packaging. CLAMSHELL packaging. Proceed to fight with packaging for what seems like an eternity.)

"ARGH! I've just spent like half an hour trying to get the stupid machete out of the {expletive deleted} blister pack! And now I see that it's riveted to the package!! AAAHHH! I need it NOW!"

(Ditch machete.)

"{expletive deleted} I'll just use the shovel."

(March back outside, shovel in hand, to find NO snake in the chicken coop. Search high and low, turn over the bedding, no sign of snake. Roll eyes all the way back to the house.)

"Never mind. It's gone now."

The moral: Have your sh*t ready to go before you need it.

Amusing aside: The play by play of this incident was being relayed by my husband to his coworkers, who were apparently in awe.

* I would have LOVED to have pasted in the exact text of this conversation, but we were using Skype chat, and Skype apparently doesn't save chat history. Bummer.

Monday, July 13, 2009

summer is winter



Here in the Lone Star State, we don't play well with others. We run on our own schedule. Even the weather. I thought it might be helpful to provide a seasonal guide to Texas weather, for those not in the know.

SPRING: Begins in late February or early March, and lasts until the end of April. Temperatures range from somewhere in the sixties to somewhere in the eighties, and humidity is a constant 200% (or you'd swear it was, anyway). No longer cold enough for supplemental heat, but technically not hot enough for air conditioning. You run the A/C anyway to keep from feeling like you live in an actual swamp. Bread molds, produce spoils and metals rust in a matter of hours - you can almost watch it occur. Rain is continuous, non-stop and without end. Barns and chicken coops do not get cleaned out during this time and nothing gets built or mended. Your garden had best be planted by now.

PRE-SUMMER: A roughly two- week period around late April or early May when it clears up, dries up and the weather is gorgeous. What most normal people think of as spring, only a bit warmer. You cram as much outdoor activity as you can possibly manage into this time. Hurry and clean the barn NOW. Put up fencing NOW. Make building repairs and start your spring chicks NOW. Your garden got swamped out but is now enjoying the sunshine and growing like gangbusters. Don't get used to it, though, because you're about to head into...

SUMMER: Lasts for five solid months, from May through September. If you can picture a line graph of summer temperatures, you'd probably imagine it as a gentle hill, with the top of the hill somewhere around mid to late July. Our temperature graph would resemble a mesa. Temperatures rise to the vicinity of 100 degrees and park. Wind takes a holiday and it becomes deathly still. After about mid-June, any outdoor labor becomes impossible. Around mid-July, being outdoors at all becomes nearly impossible except after dark. Since we enjoy roughly fourteen hours of daylight this time of year, it is difficult to be outside for any reason before, say, 8:00 or 9:00 p.m. Even darkness doesn't offer much relief, since it manages to remain in the eighties or nineties even after the sun goes down. The garden has tanked. Despite nearly constant watering, everything is shriveled and brown. The animals barely move and sit around in the shade with their mouths open. You do pretty much the same. Summer, then, effectively becomes winter. It is the time to do all the things you've neglected indoors. Organize closets, work on that sewing project, catch up on reading. Movies are extremely popular in summer since theaters are routinely chilled down to about 40 degrees. You find yourself showering multiple times a day. A regular supply of ice is essential.

PRE-FALL: The time of year every Texan anxiously awaits. The first few weeks of October bring the very best weather of the year. Temperatures become civilized. Sunshine and mild days will reign. Nights will be cool and crisp. It is positively glorious. Again, you attempt to spend as much time outside as possible, although unlike in Pre-Summer, this time is usually spent on leisure. In an average year, Pre-Fall will last about three weeks or so. In a really good year, it will last through Thanksgiving. Enjoy this time. Do not even think of doing chores.

FALL: Much like spring for the rest of the country. Mostly cool temperatures, but there will be some days in the upper eighties, and some in the forties. There will not be snow to speak of. There might be ice, but only on Thanksgiving day, since nature knows that you probably have to drive somewhere that day. Fall lasts from the end of October all the way through December. Christmas day is sunny and sixty degrees, without exception, even if it was thirty degrees with snow flurries the night before.

WINTER: Our productive time. Winter consists of the month of January, and the first part of February. There might be light snow, and there will be cold, wet, windy days, but most days will be clear and mild, with temperatures in the 50's and often 60's. It is ideal for working outdoors. Or rather it would be, if the wind didn't blow at a constant 30 miles per hour. This is something to which you simply become accustomed. It is NEVER advisable to change animal bedding on a windy day (ask me how I know). Now is the time to be planning and planting your garden, but carefully - the seeds may blow right out of your hand. You'll need to hurry, too. Pretty soon it will be raining again.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

gadZUKES!

It's Zukezilla!


(No, we didn't grow this one, someone gave it to us!)

Don't worry, though. I handled it. He won't be back to bother anyone again.

Monday, July 6, 2009

it's raining, it's pouring

For something like two or three weeks we've had 100+ temperatures. For many weeks longer than that, it has been very hot, dry and still. The garden has gone up in flames, the dogs and goats are crabby and the chickens sit very still in the shade with their mouths hanging open. Finally this morning I woke up early to hear "tap tap tap tap" outside my window.

I asked hubby, "Is it...raining?!!?" My mind actually had to search for the word rain, as it seemed to have faded completely from my vocabulary. I asked the question as if I were from some remote and isolated culture and seeing my first can of Coke...something I'd only heard about but never actually seen. Something that only other people experience.

Just mere months ago, I pretty nearly tried to run Rain out of town on a rail. Now it's back for a daytrip, and everything looks clean, the plants get a much needed drink and I can finally open the curtains and let the dogs watch chicken TV (they are perpetually closed against Sun, who is many times more evil than Rain).

This is okay.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

It's quiet around here...

I'm alone on the farm this week.

That sounds ridiculous to say, considering that I am in the company of four dogs, four goats, three rabbits, five ducks, innumerable chickens and one crabby cat. But I am the only biped. The only one here with thumbs. I was a bit worried that I wouldn't be able to handle things. I was afraid that something would go wrong and I wouldn't be able to fix it, but so far that hasn't occurred. I imagine that given enough time, something eventually would go wrong, but fears about being by myself for just a week seem now to have been overblown. I have made it halfway through the week without any need for a tool, a bullet or a phone call, and that feels like a small triumph to me.

P.S. Sorry for the lack of pictures lately. It's literally too hot to stand outside for any non-essential reason, and frankly there's nothing inside worth taking photos of.

P.P.S. Rabbits really hate it when you soak them with the hose.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I Heart Popsicles

***Hypocrisy Alert***

For all my "natural" this and "sustainable" that and "self-sufficient" blah blah, I have to confess:

I am a girl who loves a popsicle.

Twin stix, fudgcicles, bomb pops, drumsticks, pop ice...whatever. High fructose corn syrup? Bring it! Red #40? No problem. Guar gum? Where do I sign? Maybe it's my proximity to the equator, maybe my brain is just heat-addled, who knows - but I think that frozen confections might be one of mankind's greatest achievements.

Not that that's saying much. ;-)

Friday, May 22, 2009

A Quick Word Of Advice

Be very, VERY judicious about shooting a skunk. Consider its intentions. Consider carefully its proximity to your dwelling and environs. Take a moment to run through some possible cause-and-effect scenarios. And above all, consider what you'll have to do with it once the deed is done.