Okay, so I have to confess something. I’ve never seen Game of Thrones. I have no mental image whatsoever of the character Khal Drogo, although I loooooove that name. The thing is, whenever I see Khal here in the LnH pages, I hear him speak with a Russian accent. “In Soviet Alabamova,” he says, “Veird lady take many photos of Khal Drogo. Khal Drogo is used to this reaction; his beauty in photos surpassed only by his beauty in real life.”
This cracked me UP!
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What I want to know is how you always end up with such kissable kittens.
I’m just lucky! Or all kittens are kissable. Yeah, let’s go with that.
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Do any of the kittens noticed Cruise and Gauge are missing?
I think they noticed – the day after Cruise and Gauge went home, a couple of the kittens were a bit needier than usual (maybe “needy” is the wrong word – they were a lot more insistent about being petted and kissed) and oddly, they were SUPER leap-y. In fact, when I was in my bedroom (where the tall cat tree resides), Solenoid FLEW to the top of the cat tree, FLEW from the tree to the bed, ran across the bed, and jumped at the fan, smacked face-first into the fan, and then FLEW out of the room. They were all crazy like that for a couple of days, and now they’re pretty much back to normal. (As normal as kittens get, anyway.)
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“We haven’t had snow (yet!) this year.” Oh, would you like some? Because hey. We have LOTS up here already in Ottawa (Canada). And cold (like November’s too early for -18C cold).
I’d like to put in my order for two hours of big, fat, fluffy flakes on Christmas Day, if you don’t mind.
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They are endlessly fascinated by the “mirror” in the middle of the fan.
LoJack is just so darned good-looking, isn’t he? And he knows it!
LoJack inquires: “Have you always been so weird, lady, or is this something that just happened in adulthood?”
Fender and Dynamo. It took me a minute to figure out exactly what was going on here.
Those kittens just LOVE that cat tree. (Solenoid, Clutch & LoJack)
“Lady, why you is not pettin’ me?” (Solenoid)
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Newt’s favorite place to sleep, now that the days have turned cold.
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Previously
2017: Wherein Fred and Robyn sell Crooked Acres, the conclusion.
2016: *”What kind of a name is JUSTIN for a cat?” Fred scoffed yesterday.
2015: She likes to fall bonelessly onto the floor into a floompy pile of floof and roll around ’til you rub her belly.
2014: No entry.
2013: She had important burning questions that she needed to find the answer to, you can see.
2012: “Whar’d it gooooooo?!”
2011: If there’s one thing Chuckles does and does well, it’s make himself at home.
2010: Did I perhaps mention that the Brady Bunch like themselves some sunshine?
2009: I tried to convince Fred that we should go next weekend and take a chicken to have its picture taken with Santa, but he doesn’t seem to be going for that.
2008: No entry.
2007: Tommy & Stinkerbelle.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.