You know how yesterday I said that Cindy and Bobby were “just under” two pounds, as reported by Fred, who’d gone upstairs to weigh them?
Last night when we were hanging out with the kittens before bed, I grabbed up Cindy (who’s the smallest) and went to weigh her to see how close she was to two pounds.
One pound, ten ounces. Now, I ask you – how is that “just under” two pounds? That’s “just over” a pound and a half, if you ask me!
I mean, not that it matters that much. At least she’s gaining weight – just not quite as quickly as I thought!
“Halllp. Meeeee.”
Okay.
Poking wee Cindy Brady so she’ll flail around and look adorable?
Probably not a good idea. But I can’t help it. She cracks me up!
“You poke ME, you’re gonna lose that finger, lady. You get me?”
Reacher was on the couch in the living room, and I was trying to get a good low-light picture of him (ie, I was messing around with the camera settings without a clue as to what I was doing, and then snapping pictures to see what would happen). I was kneeling in the hallway, and I guess there were cats gathering behind me, and it disturbed Reacher.
Doesn’t he look disturbed? I’m disturbed, too – I have no clue what settings I had the camera on.
Corbie, snoozing on my bed.
Corbie, in the blue basket in the kitchen. (That is not, I hasten to assure you, a bucket of chocolate buttercream icing behind him. It once held chocolate buttercream frosting, but when I purchased it at the flea market, it was empty. It currently holds all-purpose flour. I buy the big bag at Sam’s, and needed a big place to store it. That bucket is perfect.)
Miz Poo, in my bedroom window, in the sun. Sweet, sweet girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Previously
2009: Mike, on the other hand, would have slept on my face if I’d let him.
2008: No entry.
2007: If I got a really bad cold AND the cats made it a 24-hour barf-o-rama around here. That would be FABULOUS.
2006: It’s tough to pet 5 milling kittens when you only have two hands, believe you me.
2005: No entry.