This is Annie

Annie is my only female cat out of six. A cat after my own heart. See that ball of Briggs and Little wool she has her claws into? Difficult to knit socks with little kitty claws controlling the wool. And the Very Harlot poncho she's got her arse on? Let's just hope there was no feline flatulence going on there!
Isn't she sweet? Has an awesome purrr, too.

All Life Is Precious

Albert Einstein was a very wise man.

OOOPS

Four months will tell the tale, I suppose. The spotty-nosed virgin in the middle is Dawn. On the right is Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy is a wether. Or not. Mr. Darcy and Dawn were friendly this morning in the biblical sense. Ooops. Virgin no more. And upon inspection, it appears that
Mr. Darcy has parts he shouldn't, albeit well-concealed. So by early January 2006, I could have a lamb or two, or not. Mr. Darcy is here merely for his fleece, and good looks. The plan was to bring a studly ram from another farm to service my woolly girls. But you know what they say about all good plans...

Goodbye Lois

Goodbye Lois. You have been adopted but some really nice people and I hope you will be very, very happy in your new home. You sure know how to find the most comfortable spot in the house for your "little" siestas!

Pretty Flowers

It's been raining on and off for the past couple days. Not a bad thing, let me assure you. Everything grows in the most wonderful way after the rain. The flowers are blooming with renewed energy and the veggies are keeping me busy picking. At last!

I interrupt the regularly scheduled program...

...to announce, in somewhat disgruntled manner, that pet store owners do not know everything there is to know about animals.

It turns out that Spike is actually, now and forever, Spikerella. I know she was small when I bought her... but H, E, double hockey sticks!!


She's still cute. And all grown up. Can you tell?

Treasures

Some will tell you that your day won't be complete if you haven't learned at least one new thing or laughed at least once. Not too much to ask for, right? Especially easy if you live with kids. So where do treasures fit into all this? It's back to the kid thing: learning to look at things in a new light, or from a new angle or with child's open mind. And I'm telling you, you WILL find treasure in the least expected places! An example...

The glass cat. MY treasure. NOT for kid hands. The glass cat and I were meant to be together. This was a very special find in one of those unlikely places: I was returning my recyclables. It was sitting on a high window ledge among other unique bottles. The colour of amber, it caught my eye when the sun rays lit it up. I love amber. In a shape of a cat? Well, that just sent me into a fit of giggles. Yes, then and there. Hubby and the recycling guy probably thought I lost my mind. Did I mention I love cats? After establishing that the recycling guy was willing to part with it, I asked him his price and paid the nice man, what to me seemed like a pittance. An amber cat! Imagine. And I don't have to feed it, put up with it shedding, or change it's litter. Yes, definitely a treasure. The best part about this particular treasure? It makes me smile every time I look at it.

About James

This is James. He doesn't like rainy days much. Can't you tell? Good thing the sun is shining again.

He's lived here at the farm about a year now.
There he was, sitting on the side of the road one day as my daughter and I were walking to visit a neighbour. He was all fluffy and very kitten-cute. All kittens are cute, right? So naturally we stopped and gave him a pat and a scratch behind the ears, and resumed our walk, only to find him following us. HONEST!! We DID NOT say "here kitty, kitty" in hopes of having him walk with us. He did that all on his own. We thought he went back to where he came from when we didn't see him on our walk home. But when we were almost to the house, there he was again. Kind of skinny and hungry looking... So only naturally I set out a bowl of food and water for him on the deck. (Not in the house. That would have been the equivalent of inviting him to move in!) Over the next couple days I made phone calls to try find his owners in hopes someone would claim him. Nothing. On the second day, my darling hubby (not cat loving person, as he tells everyone) told me I might as well bring him in the house. (We) I already had five (5) cats at that time. The rest is history. He made himself at home very quickly. Got along well with the other cats, to my surprise.

Turns out he's a fine mouser too.

Let it Rain

I can never complain about rain. Not even when there there is a river flowing through the stone walls of my basement. I have at long last accepted that such is life in a century-old house. And all I can do is hope the rain will be enough to water the garden.

Meet Spike

Blogworld, meet Spike. Spike, meet the bloggers.
Pretty darn cute, isn't he? Talk about your impulse buys. There I was in the mall, returning my train tickets for Toronto, returning my new luggage (what's the point of keeping a suitcase I was never going to use, right? The reasons for all these returns to be revealed...eventually.) Anyway, so I was wondering aimlessly around the mall and there was the petshop right in front of me, whispering "come on in, come on in..."
No adorable kittens, no feisty puppies to oooh and aaah over. Well. Didn't feel like looking at the fish was going to perk me up any. But there, in the glassed case where the owner was standing, were maybe half dozen dwarf rabbits in various stages of repose, mostly pure black except for two. So naturally I had to ask the normal questions (out of politeness, you understand); how old they were (about 4 weeks), how big would they get (maybe 2lbs, no more than 2and a half ), when they were ready to go (NOW)...
Well, I asked to hold one and as they say, the rest is history! But isn't he adorable! It took a couple days to name him. Couldn't give him a whimpy sounding name, nothing girlie. And so Spike it is. Note that he's not much bigger than that teacup. And he's not exactly growing by leaps and bounds either. Which is fine by me. Right now he lives in a cat carrier. When it looks like he has stopped growing (that cracks me up! HA), I'll get hubby to build him a condo fit for a big brave rabbit like him. Yah, Spike. Long live Spike!
In other Spike news, my daughter (she's 5) tried knitting him a SuperSpike cape. Kind of like superman but better. It didn't turn out so well, but her passion for making knitwear hasn't suffered. Good to know she wasn't switched at birth!!