Fat
I swear. You come down south and all you eat is fat food. Not that I mind, it's all good. But, boy oh boy - I don't think I could do this for a living. And then there is iced tea, which I have been swimming in.
Farm
Here on the farm, the living is easy. Last night there was a cat fight in the woods, so this morning we rounded up all the cats and checked them all for cuts or bites. They all seem fine, except the little longhaired black cat is kind of a jackass. I think if anyone was fighting, it's probably him.
Bette the cattle dog is doing fine. She is a big hit to anyone who visits us here. She still has the annoying jumping problem I keep thinking she should have out grown by now. When she jumps on you, she jumps straight up in the air. More of a hop, I guess. Her body doesn't really move, she just pops up. And if you aren't careful, she'll lick you on your nose or chin.
She can hop real high.
Wendy the cattle dog is stuck by herself. She is kind of a freak and doesn't like men - or me (hee). She has her own little cage off near the garden and sits there and does her own crazy thing all day. She doesn't play well with others, as we learned once when she and Floyd (the cattle) dog went after Vicar the terrier.
The goats are now one goat. One poor goat who makes this awful goat sound until you feed her. She likes to eat the chicken feed, so now they have been kind of separated, food wise. The chickens on the other hand, like to eat the cat food.
It's rainy down here and the Chapel Hill NPR station is asking for money. Not the best time to be here.
Firetruckplace
The local coffee / bagel shop is staffed by morons. Oh well. It takes them all morning to get your order done, and then they don't seem to have any experience giving you your order in any sort of decent 'carry-out' format. You will end up with coffee all over you by the time you get home. Or, maybe not 'you', but possibly your friend. Or your wife.
