This is a photo of Zoe in the swing at the farm. You might not recognize her because dad shot it about 20 years ago and decided to process it only today.
He did follow me up this rickety staircase and across an Indiana Jones-style rope bridge, so I guess he's not all bad.
Now, you know the best thing about the farm, right?
GOATS!
I could feed goats all day!
They eat corn.
Here you go, goaty goat.
OM NOM NOM NOM!
Baby goats are just about the cutest things ever.
I've got two hands. Might as well use them.
Of course, goats aren't the only great thing about the farm.
There are giant Legos!
Hm. Looks like the goats have been here.
Not cool!
Thanks, dad, for processing these farm photos that you pretty much took before I was born.
Dad shot more farm photos last weekend, but he's processing them only now.
Tune in soon to learn whether Zoe managed to stay atop Bonecrusher for the full eight seconds!
For the second weekend in a row, we went to the farm instead of the zoo.
Dad calls it the Cow Zoo, but I don't think that's quite right.
For one thing, there are goats!
Zoe met Goatsworth VI yesterday.
Goatsworth VI is very friendly--especially if you have corn.
Speaking of corn, I spent half an hour inside the Tire of Corn again.
My first car--which Dad says I can get when I'm 34--will have four such tires.
I can't wait to be 34!
I think.
At one point, Mom plopped Zoe down into the Tire of Corn with me. The results were ...
... about what you might expect.
Zoe is very friendly--especially if you have corn.
She even let this horse try to kiss her.
Speaking of horses ...
I RODE PONIES!
I am a natural.
I wonder what I'd have to say to get Dad to get me a pony.
Your suggestions are welcome!
I took a break from my newfound equestrianism to build a functioning replica of the Empire State Building.
Farms are great because they have industrial irrigation systems.
This one was a turtle. It kept spraying me no matter what I did!
Time for drastic maneuvers.
GAH!
STILL SPRAYING ME!
I know when to quit. I'll be back, turtle!
This lady watched the whole episode and didn't even lift a wing to help.
I took a break to do some foundation work in the sandbox ...
... and wound up covered in sand.
Zoe saw the whole thing. (She also didn't lift a wing to help.)
(Zoe also saw a tornado forming in this exhibit at the National Center for Atmospheric Research. Dad didn't have a better way to insert this photo anywhere.)
Anyway, mom and Dad found another Industrial Turtle and tried use it to clean me off ...
... but eventually they had to bring in the heavy artillery.
Dad says this is actually way nicer than the locker room at the gym.
I'm pretty sure the locker room has a floor, Dad.
Hey look! Mostly clean!
EDITOR’S NOTE: DO NOT CONTINUE READING THIS INSTALLMENT OF FELDMANCUBS IF YOU HAVE “A THING” ABOUT WATCHING PEOPLE EAT WITH THEIR FEET. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Spaghetti Night was the perfect opportunity to work on my new skill: putting my food between my toes. Dad says I eat like a pig, but I've never seen a pig with this kind of fine-motor coordination.
I've also never seen a pig do this:
SLURP!
Are you following me, camera guy?
Ba ha ha ha ha!
Dad says this was nice and all, but he'll be really impressed when I do it at Gramercy Tavern.
In the meantime, I'm not allowed to eat anything but supermarket sushi while strapped into a cart. The kitchen has never been cleaner!
The parents have been working me pretty hard recently.
Today alone, we went to gymnastics, the farm, a Zoe photo shoot (images coming soon), and Pearl street.
Guess where this photo was taken.
There are no silos in gymnastics.
This one was at the farm too. They have a great collection of trucks to fill with their unique mixture of sand and chicken poop.
For some reason, Dad refused to drink this even though I made it just for him.
As is so often the case ...
... Dad's attention wandered.
Goats love corn!