Part IV:Andrew

"I think THIS one's the right one!"

Andrew doesn't like having his picture taken.

...But his muscles do!!!

"Seriously...stop"

"I'm going to punch you."

"...With these guns!"

Family portrait

Not everyone in the family cooperated very well.

Dana using Kelly as a surfboard.

Part III: Jimmy

Face-melting drum solo.

AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIWIIIIIIIIPEOUT

Pa-rum-papum-pum

Off to the baseball game after a hard day's work on the farm.

And I'm SUPER excited about it!!

My nickname on the team is "Herdsman"

The best part is that this was completely accidental. NOT STAGED.

Don't hurt the dino egg.

Too late. It's cracked.

P.s. Dana almost stole those overalls. Beware.

Part II: Jenn

Jenn getting ready for a night on the town with her hot military boyfriend.

Jenn kissing Mikey goodbye before work (and accidentally getting hair on her clean scrubs. oops.)

Rawr.

Eye spy a ghost.

Bedtime for Bonzo.

Part I: Ma and Pa

The following posts are part of a collection we like to call "Dress like your favorite Fenner."

Mama Fenner in her Saloon Barmaid dress, canoodling Mikey.

Mama Fenner reading. Shoeless of course.

Tom both on and off duty. He is buff.
Note: Cyborg in the corner.

Mikey walks across the bed.

Rooster No More

Dear Splendidly Fabulous Readers of Reads Ville,

It is time for me to convey the "Incident" from my brain. Kelly has already provided you with her half, now i shall give you mine. Morbid thoughts and all {my dad is attacking the cat with balled up paper towels} . . . put your seat belt on America.

Let me begin by telling you that i don't really remember much . . . just kidding.

Ok so as Kelly has told you before, she was tip toeing around doing the chores, which was unnecessary because i was awake when the sun cracked {more like lazered it was so bright} over the mountains into the window and straight through my retinas and into my brain. {didn't have the same effect like it did on John Travolta in Phenomenon} . . . ANYWAYS.

So i was battling Bea and Mikey for the None Butt in Face Award {i know that makes no sense, don't worry about it} when Kelly burst through {or walked through} the side door by the bath room that goes into the garage and told me i needed to come with her.

She told me that Rooster was just sitting there, and something had attacked it. I thought bob cat? or maybe a coyot . . . to this day we are not sure. We're thinking about getting CSI down here to see what they can figure out.

ANYWAYS - - we {me and kelly} made our way down the wood steps in the garage. out the side door . . . which the 2 barn cats were happily eating their breakfast . . . then across the green grass and up the hill to the chicken COOP.

AAANNNDDD there - - - THERE ==> on the ground at the far left in the pen was Rooster. Poor little moo. All helpless and lying down. Eyes closed, flickering open from time to time.

"MAN DOWN!!! MEDIC!!!" - i either said this out loud or in my head, i forget.

So i circled around the back and inspected the gaping bloody wound that seemed to infect the entire back of Roosters hind parts.

AND it began . . .

The call to Lauren. The search for the none existent SHARP axe and the lame none to be found chicken killing boom sticks {guns}.

Then we decided to axe it:

"i just don't want to axe it, what if it doesn't go all the way through"

"i'll axe it"

"i don't want you to have to axe it"

"i don't want YOU to have to axe it"

. . . . ten minuets later

"i just don't want to axe it, what if it doesn't go all the way through"

"i'll axe it"

"i don't want you to have to axe it"

"i don't want YOU to have to axe it"

i did think about the fact that if i did axe Rooster, the angle we were standing in would in fact be a target for flying guts ad limbs that might decided to catapult themselves at us from the force of the axe.

AND then it was shovel it into a bag . . . and freezer it.

and then back to the axe and then so on and so forth.

FINALLY - i wouldn't take "no shovel Rooster into the bag" and thought if Kelly had a shovel, then we could work together and use the shovels as chop sticks. bloody chop sticks.

IT WORKED!

Rooster in the bag . . . into the freezer and there he stands {sits}

we had to wash the shovels off . . . they had Rooster's blood oozing all over it. I think a kidney was left behind as well.

END

Kelly Dish Be Clean

{yes i was standing on the counter when i took this}

-- Dana

Cheeeeekens

This was taken before "the incident."

I will never eat these eggs.
I will never eat these chickens.
I will never eat the bull.
The thought just makes me sicken(s).

I'm running out of room in the fridge btw. What should I do with the old ones? And by that, I mean, is there anyone whose house you would like us to egg?

--Kelly (and Dana's camera)

Down on Fenner Farm There are Some Really Noisy SheepGoats

Today, wonderful readers, we talk about the goats and sheep.
These animals have four legs, a bristly sort of fur, and loud human sounding cries.
They also like to clamor around and knock their feeders over when they get excited for food. (and as a side note, I've only missed throwing the hay into that back feeder twice. Thank you, thank you, please quell your applause. It's embarrassing. No really, stop. I could never accept your WNBA offer.)


And here below are the ravenous goat-sharks eating.

Today, one goat in this pen who has horns got his head stuck in the fence and then refused to let me help him out. He kept trying to maneuver his head through one of the other holes, making him look like a thread in a loom. Then every time I would push his head back, he would only push back, apparently thinking it was some kind of see-who-can-push-the-hardest game.
I eventually just cut his head off.

Just kidding.

The good part about this job is that I get to hold a knife. Which I have since misplaced. I had to use mini hedge trimmer things this morning.
And my nails were wet, ok!! It's not like I'm always this dainty and delicate.
Then again, maybe I am.
--Kelly (and Dana's pictures)

Crime Scene Clean Up

Dearest Wonderful Faithful Readers,

Everyone gags . . .
what makes you gag is the key here. We found what makes us gag . . .

Have you ever seen vegetable barf? No, not someone barfing up vegetables . . . but the actual vegetable its self vomit up its own filth and grime. Well we encountered this very thing. We should have been wearing HazMat suits when we began our journey-- nay QUEST-- of clearing out the refrigerator. I am exaggerating a whole heck of a lot. No but really . . . decide for yourself.

{Kelly polishing the shelves}
{please notice the PLETHORA of chicken eggs in the drawer}
{the 1,000 jars of P B & J}

{the unknown creature living in the veggie drawer}

--Dana

The Teeniest Feather Could Knock Me in the Gutter

Hello Our Extremely Faithful Followers,

Welcome to the adventures of Kelly and Dana as we house-sit for the Fenner Farm!

Since the Fenners like to go on wildly crazy adventures across the country, and since we love them so dearly, and since they're a little cracked, they leave their farm (including their goats, chickens, cats, dogs -- and the occasional bull) to Kelly. And since Dana is home for summer vacation, plus a fellow animal and Fenner-lover, she is forced to come out and help against her will.

Things happen. And since you are so very faithful and love to hear every aspect of not only our lives, but the Fenner's as well, we thought we'd share it all-- yes every last bit-- with YOU!

You may regret reading this. We're nearly 100% sure.

--Dana and Kelly