Stayed home yesterday as a result of whatever Deathplague it is that has filled my sinuses with concrete. The good news is that after a day of mostly remaining motionless in my recliner taking drugs, I am starting to feel like a human being again. I have not managed to lose my voice, probably because Daniel has been bringing me tea on-demand. Chai, with honey and milk. It is so good. He also got me a dinosaur play set today when he went out to get me more drugs! So I have had dinosaurs to play with while languishing in my chair. I think he is the Best Husband Ever, really. Today is his birthday, and he’s been living here for over 13 months now and I have not tried to kill him even once. This is how you can tell he is a pretty stellar person. He has put up with chickens, feral cats in the bathroom, being the Vet Trip Chauffeur, puking dogs, screaming cats, baby chickens in the house, that time I accidentally kidnapped Pawpower, earthquakes (well OK, only one), apocalyptic storms involving either snow or rain or both, and me looking all wild-eyed and trying to make a case for a mini-cow, and yet has not tried to kill or divorce me even a little bit. Definitely the Best Husband Ever.
Twelve of the original 24 eggs in the incubator went into lockdown. Three of the four of my eggs that were in there did not develop. One I wasn’t expecting to but the others were from the Modern Game Bantams. I shall have a pep talk with Kemuel, the rooster, about doing his duty and fertilizing the eggs. The remaining egg is from the porcelain silkies. The eggs left in the incubator and probably going to hatch starting sometime on Friday are blacks, blues/splashes, lavenders/lav splits, porcelains/porc splits, and one lone partridge egg. All of them are from silkies, so this will add several adorable balls of floof to the Manor, at least until I figure out who I’m keeping and who I’m selling off.
Meanwhile, we’re pretty sure we have Mr. Beckett’s transportation situation figured out, which means he will go off to his new home next week. It’s always such a bitter-sweet time when one of the former ferals heads off to a new home. Sweet, because we are at the limit for cats we can really care for well; bitter, because we can’t help but love them while they’re in our care. Still, while we won’t be glad to see him go, we’re definitely happy that he’ll have people who can give him more attention than he can get here. He’s turned out to be a very interactive kind of cat who loves to snuggle.