In Which I Create a Tumblr Blog and am Chased by a Rooster

.......It's been an odd week. Okay, it hasn't been a week, it's been like four days. But whatever.
The start of the oddity was when I started a tumblr account. It sounds pretty run-of-the-mill, but it seemed climactic at the time. The main purpose of it was, at least in theory, to increase my traffic on THIS blog. See, Tumblr's better for the social-networking side of blogging, so theoretically, get to know people over there, find people interested in the same sorts of things I'm interested in, find way to direct my followers over there ...over here.
The theory breaks down around the time that I remember that I'm pretty much Socially Useless, even on the internet. So my tumblr is going to sit there with three posts and zero followers until the cows come home.
And while I'm waiting on the cows to come home, I've got enough to worry about with the chickens and the turkeys.
See, I'm house-sitting. Supposed to be simple, right? Feed the housepets, bring in the mail, watch the homeowner's entire movie collection, etc. Well, no. As I said, chickens and turkeys. And rabbits. Oh my.
The people I'm house-sitting for left a lovely blue sheet of paper stuck to the fridge with explicit directions about who's supposed to eat what and so on, but I'm still a bit unclear on the difference between chicken food and chicken scratch. And right now, the roosters aren't getting along with each other, the turkeys, or me (thus the being chased by a rooster bit); the rabbits have taken to sitting in the back corner of their hutches and staring at me warily, mostly I think because I had to make an awful lot of racket this morning with the hutch door and a six-foot shovel in my (entirely successful, I might add) attempt to kill a rather large and mean-looking writing spider; and I still have no idea just where I stand with the turkeys. So, essentially, it's just me and Gandalf. Gandalf being the rather overweight tabby housecat. I'm not sure if he's sweet or just lazy, but he's barely moved from my feet since I've been here. And he rather likes being scratched under the chin.
His name makes for some interesting (and occasionally awkward) happenstances, though. Like, when he tries to escape whenever the front door is open, and  you turn around and tell him to stay, and then you realize what you just implied. "Gandalf, YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Yeah. Or when he's on one couch and you're on the other and you say, "Gandalf, no, don't you want to come sleep with me?"



*cricket, cricket*

So anyway. Hopefully me and the roosters will come to terms eventually, and perhaps the turkeys will choose to be less enigmatic, and the rabbits will decide that I'm not actually a shovel-wielding maniac, but rather their spider-killing, carrot-bearing friend, and everything'll be just hunky-dory. In the meantime, I think there's a dvd of Phantom of the Opera calling my name around here somewhere..