Be Thankful I put a New Blog up, nah, I'm not really that presumptuous

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!! Mine was nice, but now I am as full as a bloated tick and not sure I ever want to eat anything ever again. Who am I kidding? I will probably be nomming on party mix before the night is over. This is sorta a combo post--encompassing the triumphant return of the deballed Ghost and a Thanksgiving calvacade of pics.


Annie made this little welcome back package for Ghost. It included a pencil (he has a vast love for playing with pencils, he steals them all the time and then invariably shoves them under the couch and acts all butthurt about it), a baggie of Meow Mix, and a little stuffed whale that she found ( he also likes to go in the basement and rummage in the toy box and liberate old teeny stuffed toys). Annie must think he is a supercat though, she just set in down in front of him and looked at him expectantly. I felt at this point it was necessary to explain to her that in addition to not possessing testicles anymore, the cat never had opposable thumbs, and for sure he wasn't going to be opening the bag, much less a ziploc of Meow Mix.

He still seemed slightly zonked out for the rest of the day. You could say this cat is literally butthurt, but he forgave us pretty fast. Also, that book he's laying on is Annie's favorite one of all time, Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse. It's set in the Dustbowl, go figure, and it's a collection of journal entries from a little girl who had what sounds like a depressing life. Guess Annie is a little Goth or something. Oh wait, she just yelled at me that it ends happy.

This is what we see most every night while we are trying to mind our own business and sit on our butts and watch tv. The little peanut gallery of kittens staring, and they follow us with their eyes, like they are watching a tennis match or something.

A heart shaped potato Terry's sister Patti found, she didn't have the heart (hah! get it! heart?) to peel him up and toss him in the Thanksgiving vat of mashed.

And evidently it was the special themed "internal organ" bag of taters, this kidney one turned up too.

Al and her cousin Amelia with Ike, the kitten eating dog. In addition to kittens, he only likes to eat people food. Which might be bad for him, but as he will eat his own poop before he eats dog chow, can't be toooo terrible.

Cows. Hmm, I actually don't know the names of these cows. My sister-in-law is oh so witty though and her cows always have names like Sir Loin, T-bone, and Ribeye. Hey Patti, if you leave a comment, you can tell us the names of this lot.

Roosters, happy that people don't eat chicken on Thanksgiving. Which is what I said to Patti trying to be all funny, and then she pointed out they were bound for processing in the next couple of days. Sorry boys, at least you got a pardon for today.