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My Wild Weekend

This past weekend, my husband Steven and I were in Vermont.  I did not say anything about it at the time, because I didn’t want any local readers seizing the opportunity to burglarize my house.  Then again, I’m sure all my lovely readers are honest, upright citizens, who probably have much nicer stuff than I do anyways.  Be that as it may, I thought for today’s post, I would share a few pictures I took of my sister-in-law’s back yard.  She lives at the bottom of a mountain.  It’s really cool.

No, these are NOT my in-laws! What a suggestion!

The wild turkeys came and visited every morning and evening while we were there.  Naturally I grabbed my Tablet and took a few pictures.

You’d think they would have smiled for the camera. Turkeys!

I confess I felt like a lousy nature-lover when the sight of the birds made me crave roast turkey with all the fixings.

Of course I did not try to catch and cook any of these turkeys.

You can’t really see the colors of the feathers in these pictures, but when the sun hit them they became almost iridescent. I was kind of hoping one of them might lose a feather or two that I could find.  Maybe if I would have taken a walk in the woods I could have found one.

On the other hand, there are black bears in those woods. We saw one black bear.  Alas, I did not get a picture, because it was at night.  Additionally, we could only see him through the kitchen window.  When we went out on the deck for a better look, he ran away.  I said he was a scaredy-bear.

So that is my story about my Wildlife Weekend.  I know, it wasn’t like an African Safari or even a camping trip.  But for a Melancholy Monday (my new feature), I think it will do as a blog post.

 

Me vs. the Yard

Anybody who is anxiously awaiting the return of Saturday Running Commentary (I am), keep waiting. It’ll get here. This week, I went to Curves and exercised instead. When I got home, I thought I wouldn’t waste the sweat but do some work in the yard.

Lots of stuff has been growing up around the garage, none of it pretty. Oh, we had some pretty things there earlier this year. Some lovely irises, some pink flowers whose name I never knew, some chives and parsley (maybe not exactly pretty, but yum).

Now it is overgrown with weeds, and some of them are getting quite tall and unsightly. I like to blame the inordinate amount of rain earlier this summer rather than my lack of diligence at weeding, but really, does pointing fingers get us anywhere in this situation? In fact, you don’t even need to point your fingers at the weeds I ought to be pulling up. I can see them perfectly well.

I started in back of the garage. Yikes! I rarely see in back of the garage. I like to sit on my deck, where that part is nicely hidden. Today I was confronted with a huge bush/tree/something. It comprised several different plants, I think, some of them with some nasty stickers. I was armed with gardening gloves and clippers. I strode bravely into the fray.

And was soon saying, “Ow! Ow! Dammit!” Those gardening gloves are not exactly impenetrable. And they only cover up to my wrists. It is not long sleeve weather. I did not get very far on what I now think of as the Monster of the Back Yard. For one thing, the sun had moved around and you know how sensitive I am about direct sunlight (at least, I suppose new readers, if any, don’t know, but I am).

I moved to the side of the garage, the unsightly part we see when we are sitting on the deck. The worst of the weeds were among the irises. Now done blooming, and even the greenery didn’t look too healthy. I figured it would be OK to cut or pull the green stuff as long as I left the bulbs in the ground. After much huffing and puffing, I accomplished it. I left the most of the greenery from the unknown pink flowers. It still looked pretty good, and I managed to get most of the weeds around it.

Moving on up, I came to a place where last fall Steven had planted some flowers from my container garden on the deck. We thought we’d see what happened, not being clear on if they were annuals or perennials. Some stuff had grown. It had not bloomed, so I had begun to suspect that they were not flowers. I began to pull them up as ruthlessly as I could manage (not being a particularly ruthless person).

And noticed a pleasing aroma, even penetrating my screwy sinuses. I sniffed closer. Why, yes, that was mint! I forgot I had put some mint there. The ground had been hard, it hadn’t been such a much when I planted it, well, I’ll be a ding dong daddy, as my grandmother used to say. They say mint will take over your yard. I say, have at it! I plucked some mint and brought it inside. Later I will make some mint tea. Aaaahhhh!

And that is my gardening story for the day.