food, crochet, merriment
Our silly little Chili baby is not such a baby anymore–size wise.
But point a camera at her and she turns into a full blown two year old– flipping around making it nearly impossible to just snap one decent picture of her!
Sometimes, I almost think that maybe, just maybe, she knows exactly what she’s doing and is actually posing...
making sure we capture her best side.
Because when it comes to your image,
a girl can’t be too careful.
I looked down from my computer just in time to see little Chili at my feet. She’s soooooo incredibly fluffy that I thought to myself–wouldn’t it be amazing to have a pair of socks that were that soft? I’ll have to put that on my birthday list. “Socks as fluffy and soft as Chili.” Check.
Oh.
Nevermind.
I’m good.
Ooooh it’s always a sad time when my babies approach 8 weeks old. They are fluffy and gorgeous and playful and happy–but alas, it’s time for them to have new homes.
*sigh*
We’ve called this lovely long hair, “Jersey” because when we first saw her, she looked like a little calf with all her spots.
This one has only ever been called the Tiger….
and this one is our grey baby.
And lastly, this calico beauty–we call Chili– has squeaked her way into my heart to such a degree that…..
dare I say it?
I’m keeping her.
I know, I know. I’m quickly approaching the crazy cat lady status with no rational end in sight. I mean really….
look at that face.
Ok, is your heart just melting right now? Mine is. Our little babies are at that adorable phase where they look more like stuffed animals than actual, live kittens.
This is Tilly Clawhauser, our true calico.
Of course, they are also at the age where they wiggle so much that it’s a miracle if I can get a clear picture of them…at all.
This is little Tiger Tummy.
And in case you’re worried, nooooo, I’m not holding them by the neck to get the shot. They are sitting on my lap and I’m propping them up with my hand. My sweet little grandson saw the pictures and asked why I was choking them. I’m not, honey…I swear. Yikes.
This is Jersey Pie.
Lastly, we have the one we simply call Grey Baby. Because except for his feet, he’s…you know…grey.
I love, love, LOVE having kittens in the house. It just makes me so happy. Plus, it makes the grandkids visit more often.
That’s a big plus.
We’re keeping a close eye on this pretty little kitty.
But perhaps I should be careful with the word “little” in this case, because while all the rest of the time this gal is absolutely petite and whispy–right now…
…she’s expecting about 20 kittens–from the looks of it. She is–I would say–a tad more substantial. Yikes.
Any second now…
I’ll let you know when the kitty stork arrives.
