Give Me A Break

It's 60 bajillion degrees here with about 500% humidity. No lie.



I've watched a progression throughout the day from Comby's feet sticking up in the air to falling off the chair, getting back up and going right back to sleep.

I've been trudging back and forth from the barn in sun so bright I can't even open my eyes all the way.

And I'm sweating. I Hate. To. Sweat.

And I broke my good [cheap] sunglasses.



Eli's sleeping under the porch.

Give me 40 and raining any day.



This does seem a little cooler Brushy, what with the breeze being able to blow underneath you. Good thinking :-/.

Because at least then I don't have to look at all my hardworking compatriots.



Aw, ain't she cute. With her widdle head up on a dirt pillow.



Which is why she's called the Garden Weasel. Nice hole there Weaslie.

The only reason Iris and Claire Bear aren't pictured is they are smart enough to hide [it's too hot to go looking for them].

Scrunchy's laying low because he heard something about getting 'tutered tomorrow.

Ugh.

With The Best Of Intentions

I tried.

I really tried.

I really, really tried.

We even had a 'the porch has been liberated' cookout last night.

And people brought Nilla Wafers and a bag of special mixed lamb feed (Graham has a sensitive tummy) and some excellent feed for the two legged people as well.

Earlier in the day Saint Tim moved Boo's cat condo out in the boy's new stall so they'd have a familiar place to sleep and Miss Ewenice agreed to babysit. It was a great plan.

Until I went out at 10:30 to give them their night ba-ba.

And here's where they were found this morning.



If you think Iris looks forlorn, you should see Saint Tim.



GL: "Really? You're surprised?" (Graham is so gullible.)



I mean, could you send them out to the barn?



And, if Graham can't hang out on the porch, how's he ever going to visit with his barn kitty?



"Huh?"

I'll try again tonight.

Or maybe Wednesday.



"Yup, we got her right where we want her."

See?!?

"This is why I'm the patron saint of ANIMALS!"



"Green. Just green. As far as the eye can see. Nothing but green."



"A little help here? Anyone?"



"Finally."

"I didn't even know there was a rose living next to me."



"I'll admit the mulch is a nice touch."



I'm sorry Saint Francis. It won't happen again. I promise.

~~In Memoriam

Sunday Stills

Our challenge this week is yellow...



...so I'm starting off with purple. With some yellow. Even more yellow if you click to biggify. I'm pretty into my pollen.



If I'd posted a full photo of this flower, you'd think it was just a plain white iris. I love the way my camera shows me there is always more than meets the eye.



This yellow flower is someplace that it should not be. In my greenhouse. I posted this not only as a beautiful example of yellow, but to shame myself into getting this poor squash OUT of the greenhouse today. Feel free to throw in some extra shame. I deserve it.



And I bet you thought I would throw in a bee picture, too. I was, until I saw how neat the yellow is on this moth. (Definitely click to biggify.)



And I gave the camera to Keebler and Graham Lamb because I thought it might be interesting to see what yellow they would pick. Kids pictures are frequently insightful and this is no exception - a yellow box of cookies and a yellow(ish) cat. Graham must have had the camera for this one. He loves his kitties as much as cookies. Keebler loves his cookies.

Scrunchy (who's starting to feel a little more comfortable - and better fed - on the porch) is going to be sorry to see the heated cat condo heading to the barn (just for the summer - don't worry) today. I'm going to miss the two layer table/shelves. But not too much.

And yes, that's a Christmas tree. For the cats. On top of the condo. With presents underneath. And the lights (LEDs) still on. As a night-light for the boys. Who are also moving off the porch this weekend.

Enjoy your Sunday! And to enjoy more Sunday Stills...

You Can Tell By The Overhang...

I came home yesterday and was greeted by a peach colored cat on the porch.



"Hey Brushy. How's it going? Did I miss anything?"

Wait a minute.

That ain't Brushy.



Scrunchy!

He'd been gone for a day or so and I was afraid (okay, sort of hopeful) that the other cats (Comby!) had chased him away.

Any cats that come around here and will let us get ahold them get Feline Leukemia and AIDS tested (we've been lucky and not had any positives), given their shots and 'tutered. At least that way they've got a better shot of not getting sick and giving anything to our existing cats and at very least aren't adding to the cat population if they move on. HAHAHA - no one ever moves on.

So then we feed them for the rest of their lives, add some flea and tick treatment throughout the summers, update their shots every year, treat their boo boo's (note the lump on Scrunchy's back - thanks a lot Comby!), buy them stupid heated cat beds and build them outrageous condos so that everyone has a warm place to sleep in the winter.



The fruits of our labors? Yeah, that would be Brushy.