Our house was built in 1900. It is a small cape cod style house with two attic bedrooms and we need more. So we have decided to move the summer kitchen and build an addition. Note, I did not say we are tearing down the summer kitchen. No, we are MOVING it. Slowly. Like it's been a year in the making. Well the floor is now gone and there are the neatest things in there. There are old bottles, a broken bed warmer, old toys, shards of pottery, lots of soles to shoes? I don't know why.
Well it is nice and dusty and the chickens have taken a liking to getting in there and scratching and stuff. Well how lovely, they dug this up from it's eternal resting place to torment and terrify me. WARNING: THE FOLLOWING PICTURE IS GROSS, STOP NOW IF YOU WANT TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY TONIGHT:
Yup, that's what it is. It's a cat mummy. Great. I made the terrible mistake of expressing my disgust and disdain for said cat mummy to the others in this house who previously had claimed to love me. Now I have people chasing me with a dead freaking cat. They've named it Fluffy. Am I wrong to find this NOT COOL? I mean really, who does that? And please note that I have no idea WHO this cat is or how long it has been buried under my shed. My cats are all accounted for.
Smiles (and shudders) from the farm,