#miss rustine

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They know it’s a camera and they WANT THEIR FUCKING CANTALOUPE.

Ye be JUDGED.

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We’re having a run of days well below zero here, so despite all my best heating efforts in the coop, I get nervous and bring the Ladies into my nearby studio to spend a few days. They were obnoxious today (they’re in there with me every day during daylight, but usually the door is open a small amount so they can wander in and out at will. Since they were “trapped” in warm comfort with me all day, they were very vocal and antagonistic with each other, especially tiny Miss Spoons, who is the worst instigator of conflict by far.)

I went upstairs for a while to get away from the drama, and then thought I’d better go down and help figure out who was sleeping where for the night (going to be a grim eleven below zero outside.) When I came in the studio door it was completely still in there; I couldn’t see any signs of feathered life, and I briefly panicked. Then I walked past the big worktable to my upholstered chair, which they consider the studio throne, and fight over when I’m not in it.

Oh. Ohhh.

But where was the dreaded Miss Spoons? Oh god, maybe they all killed her, like in Agatha Christie’s “Oriental Express.”

Nope. Ace pilot Miss Spoons was hovering over everyone else from on high.

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Miss Demeanor:

hey, can I help whatcha doing I wanna help I like knocking shit off the table

Miss Rustine and Miss Spoons:

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Miss Valise has SPOKEN.

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Some of us toiled in the yard today, while certain others of us LOUNGED, snoozing intermittently, while mocking my efforts with chortles, and demands for cantaloupe. EDIT: Miss Brenda Deluxe requested that a more accurate, flattering photo of her be included. So, here:

WHERE IS THE LOVE, LADIES?

Miss Brenda Deluxe Splendid, bantam Silkie extraordinaire.

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