My very own "Flaming June"
See?
Pinky Dinky Do, the shortest lived kitchen fish ever. He committed fishy suicide less than a week after I got him by leaping out of his bowl. It was tragic, especially when The Big Girl picked up his dessicated body and chased me with him.
Chickens in the dining room. What? They had a barn...
Only at Tractor Supply Company would a chainsaw be considered a snack-and so cheap!
Some days this is exactly how I feel.
Red, another kitchen fish, carefully buckled up for a car ride. Yes, I take my pets everywhere with me, don't you?
The Kid demanded to have this picture taken-she loves those mannequins(or should I call them kiddequins?)
This box cracked me up in Florida last summer. Every one needs absorbent balls don't you think? Especially ones that won't get you pregnant.
I love cardinals and he is beautiful even in death, though finding him made me pretty fucking sad.
Happy Fucking Friday Ya'll!
3 comments:
Excellent collection of random although I am sure, completely not random, snapshots of life. I love how we gather here and there impressions of you with a leaky emotion, your older daughter and her cynical yet playful approach of fish death, and your younger daughter with her promising sense of visual humor. Wait, where's hubby?
I dare not see the connection with one specific item... ;)
And you shouldn't because in reality he was there laughing as I was chased with a dead fish, he was chasing the chickens through the dining room with me, laughing as we buckled the Kid and the fish in at the same time, he was at my side taking silly mannequin pictures, patiently waiting as I laughed and took pictures of cotton balls and even took a few himself and cracked his own joke about sterile balls and questioned aloud my and the Big Girls sanity as we both stood for the longest time celebrating the beauty and documenting the death of one of our favorite native birds when he was ready to get inside and eat some bbq. I don't take many pictures of him because usually we are side by side as we adventure through our days. I look at the photos and feel his presence just behind and to the side, looking over my shoulder at whatever silly thing I've got going on. Weird? I don't know, but true.
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