Saturday, May 9, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Quack, Quack!
The things that I have learned about ducks; learned all in one day, because today is the first time that I have ever owned a duck. (Or 5.)
1. Ducks are not very bright. They tromp all around in their water bowl, and get their food in it, and take a bath in it, yuk! You can change the water in their bowl every hour, and within 15 minutes it will look like soup, with poop, fragments of bedding, food, and anything else that happens to be in their cage at the time.
2. When you put lettuce in their food bowl, one of them will discover it, and then all five will fight over that one lone piece of lettuce, until it is either gone, or another stupid duck discovers that there are lots more lettuce pieces in the food bowl. But, the bad thing is, the dumb ducks don't remember where they got the lettuce piece from in the first place. Are ducks really this stupid?
3. They poop all in their bedding, and then lay down in it. AND, I have learned that ducks STINK to high heaven in an enclosed place; which is why they are outside in a pen, with a light hooked up for warmth, instead of nice and cozy in JoAnna's bathroom.
And, so, why did I want ducks to begin with?
1. Baby ducks are REALLY cute. Cute little almost-non-existant tails; tiny little nose-holes on their flat little bills; itty-bitty wings, that make you wonder if they ever will hold the duck up someday when he decides to fly.
2. I hear that ducks are very good to have around to eat all the bugs that need to be eaten. I can already see that this is true. The afore-mentioned light that was rigged up for warmth is attracting all manner of flying insects, and everytime an insect comes inside the cage, a flat little bill, (with two cute little nose-holes), gobbles the bug right up, (or down, whichever the case may be.) And, I'm here to tell you friend, that makes it worth all the smell, and greediness, and stupidity, and poop!
3. Oh, and while I'm on the subject of poop, that's another reason that I got ducks. All the many contributions to my compost pile. Ducks poop an amazing amount of poop. With all the nasty bedding and poop, my compost pile should do pretty good this year.
4. I should be able to get some possible meat, and eggs someday when I build my flock up just a little. (Someone besides me will have to do the dirty job, though.) Poor ducks!
So, all in all, I think I'll give this duck thing a little more time; but, I'm going to have to give some serious thought to adding chickens to the mix.
And what does all this have to do with gardening, you ask? Why, it's all about the compost, of course!
Happy gardening.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
God's Green Earth (and other assorted things).
Well, I certainly have let the grass grow under my feet when it comes to posting, that's for sure. Winter blahs? Indifference? Depression? Who knows? Oh well, I'm back now.
I tell you, it's hard to not be outside doing something on this most beautiful of days. The problem is, I am supposed to be out there planting stuff to eat, not re-potting flowers and trees. I tell myself that I am primarily a vegetable gardener, but especially lately finding myself working with ornamentals. And another problem is, I keep telling myself that I am not going to plant anything else here, I want to take it all to the new place, (if we ever move, that is); so, as a result, I have many, many things planted in anything that will hold dirt. And, I have to ask myself, "why, oh why, am I babying little black walnut trees? Anyone that gardens on a regular basis knows that black walnut trees emit something called "juglone", that inhibits the growth of lots and lots of vegetables that you may be trying to grow for food. And, yet, I STILL find myself transplanting the forlorn little tree into a big tin can, hoping to give it the will to live, and grow. (I guess gardening is like owning a bird; you really don't understand WHY you do things, you just know that you have to do them for some strange reason.)
So, instead of getting out there and planting food to eat, I spent the afternoon aimlessly pulling weeds on a plot of ground that I really don't intend to use this year, (but I actually DON'T want it to grow up in weeds like it did last year), so I guess the afternoon wasn't a total waste; it got me outside, made part of my depression go away, I got a little exercise, (still hoping that that will make me lose a few pounds; hasn't happened yet, but I'm still optomistic for some strange reason), said hello to the earthworms and thanked them for doing such a good job, and so forth and so on. And when you've got a beautiful day, with beautiful weather, and no mosquitoes, and a good helper like your green-feathered-two-year-old, then you really can't complain that you got nothing done, right? Happy gardening.
I tell you, it's hard to not be outside doing something on this most beautiful of days. The problem is, I am supposed to be out there planting stuff to eat, not re-potting flowers and trees. I tell myself that I am primarily a vegetable gardener, but especially lately finding myself working with ornamentals. And another problem is, I keep telling myself that I am not going to plant anything else here, I want to take it all to the new place, (if we ever move, that is); so, as a result, I have many, many things planted in anything that will hold dirt. And, I have to ask myself, "why, oh why, am I babying little black walnut trees? Anyone that gardens on a regular basis knows that black walnut trees emit something called "juglone", that inhibits the growth of lots and lots of vegetables that you may be trying to grow for food. And, yet, I STILL find myself transplanting the forlorn little tree into a big tin can, hoping to give it the will to live, and grow. (I guess gardening is like owning a bird; you really don't understand WHY you do things, you just know that you have to do them for some strange reason.)
So, instead of getting out there and planting food to eat, I spent the afternoon aimlessly pulling weeds on a plot of ground that I really don't intend to use this year, (but I actually DON'T want it to grow up in weeds like it did last year), so I guess the afternoon wasn't a total waste; it got me outside, made part of my depression go away, I got a little exercise, (still hoping that that will make me lose a few pounds; hasn't happened yet, but I'm still optomistic for some strange reason), said hello to the earthworms and thanked them for doing such a good job, and so forth and so on. And when you've got a beautiful day, with beautiful weather, and no mosquitoes, and a good helper like your green-feathered-two-year-old, then you really can't complain that you got nothing done, right? Happy gardening.
Friday, December 26, 2008
When Married To A Sheetrock Hanger:
This is for all you girls out there who are considering marrying a sheetrock hanger, or a construction worker. These are things that I have learned over the years.
1. They tend to want to unload their tools in the front yard. Which wouldn't be a problem if they would go put them up afterward, but the one that I'M married to, just leaves them where they fall. He does, however, stack them semi-neatly in the front yard, which I guess I should be thankful for.
2. If there is a chance that it might rain, then the tools are unloaded onto the front porch. Even though they are under cover, it still makes the appearance of our place look so junky and unloved. I regularly go out and clean the porches off, but the minute I get them looking good, they get junked back up again. And some of these tools are danged heavy, and it's hard to put them up.
3. We went to the expense of buying and building a shed to store all the tools in, but the shed is too far away from the front of the house, ( probably about 50 feet or so), so it is too much trouble to put them where they belong. I understand that he's tired; I have learned the hard way that getting older means you can't do the things that you used to be able to do. Simple things like walking and lifting, are much harder to do when you're tired or you have degenerative disks in your back, and a hurt shoulder that you can't get fixed because you can't be off work for the time that it takes to heal. Because:
4. When you are in construction (self employed), you do not have medical benefits. If you get them privately, you pay big time cash every month, as well as a huge deductible for every procedure done. When you are self-employed, if you don't work, you don't get paid; so you suck in the pain of whatever ails you, and go to work anyway, and don't get your medical needs taken care of. All that to say, if you are too tired or hurting too bad to walk 50 feet to put your tools up, then your front yard is continually going to look like a yard sale or a construction zone. We'd never make it in a gated community, that's for sure.
5. And if you DO manage to get him to put his tools in the shed where they belong; he stands at the door, and tosses, and where ever they land is where they stay. It doesn't take long for floor space to run out in a 16X16' shed. (I regularly used to try to clean the shed too, but the minute I do.............
6. Sheetrock dust follows them around in a cloud, especially in the summertime. Sheetrock hangers look like PigPen off of Peanuts cartoons, only the dust is powdery white instead of dark. And when it's time to wash their clothes, the combination of dust and sweat makes a kind of white mud that is yukky indeed to have to pick up to put in the washer.
But, on the other hand:
1. Sheetrock hangers get up very early in the morning to go out into all kinds of weather to earn their living, and provide for their families. (all of them are not so good at this, but the one that I'M married to is).
2. He works when his shoulder is hurting so bad that he cannot lift his arms above his head, because he cannot afford to take off for the six months that it would take to heal if he had the surgery that he needed.
3. He works in the freezing cold in the wintertime, and the burning heat in the summertime to provide for his family.
4. He stresses every Friday about whether or not the people that he worked for this week will pay him what they owe him. If they don't, his workers get paid anyway, but he doesn't. And if he gets ripped off by the builder, then that loss is his.
5. The work is so physical that it is no wonder that he has shoulder and knee problems. As he likes to remind me often: "We're not spring chickens anymore".
There are many other pros and cons, (more cons than pros, let me tell you), about what to expect if you marry a sheetrock hanger, but I have thoroughly depressed myself, and don't want to think about it anymore.
So, bottom line is: these are just a few of the things that you will face, but you have to ask yourself if the hassle of putting up with the aggravations are worth the reassurance of knowing that he will do his best to take care of you and the children that depend on him, and know that he does what he can do, and if you want a clean shed and yard, then either clean them up yourself, or marry a professional man. I guess I'll stay where I'm at, after 30 years, I've 'bout got him broke in, and at times I'M not the easiest in the world to live with either. (sheepish grin)
Besides, if I didn't have junk all in the yard, then I'd be mighty lonely, 'cause he wouldn't be here, and I'll put up with the junk (don't mean I gotta like it), in order to have someone to argue with. Happy Gardening!
P.S. What does this have to do with gardening you say? Why, because I keep my garden tools in the messy shed of course! (All put up neatly, I might add).
1. They tend to want to unload their tools in the front yard. Which wouldn't be a problem if they would go put them up afterward, but the one that I'M married to, just leaves them where they fall. He does, however, stack them semi-neatly in the front yard, which I guess I should be thankful for.
2. If there is a chance that it might rain, then the tools are unloaded onto the front porch. Even though they are under cover, it still makes the appearance of our place look so junky and unloved. I regularly go out and clean the porches off, but the minute I get them looking good, they get junked back up again. And some of these tools are danged heavy, and it's hard to put them up.
3. We went to the expense of buying and building a shed to store all the tools in, but the shed is too far away from the front of the house, ( probably about 50 feet or so), so it is too much trouble to put them where they belong. I understand that he's tired; I have learned the hard way that getting older means you can't do the things that you used to be able to do. Simple things like walking and lifting, are much harder to do when you're tired or you have degenerative disks in your back, and a hurt shoulder that you can't get fixed because you can't be off work for the time that it takes to heal. Because:
4. When you are in construction (self employed), you do not have medical benefits. If you get them privately, you pay big time cash every month, as well as a huge deductible for every procedure done. When you are self-employed, if you don't work, you don't get paid; so you suck in the pain of whatever ails you, and go to work anyway, and don't get your medical needs taken care of. All that to say, if you are too tired or hurting too bad to walk 50 feet to put your tools up, then your front yard is continually going to look like a yard sale or a construction zone. We'd never make it in a gated community, that's for sure.
5. And if you DO manage to get him to put his tools in the shed where they belong; he stands at the door, and tosses, and where ever they land is where they stay. It doesn't take long for floor space to run out in a 16X16' shed. (I regularly used to try to clean the shed too, but the minute I do.............
6. Sheetrock dust follows them around in a cloud, especially in the summertime. Sheetrock hangers look like PigPen off of Peanuts cartoons, only the dust is powdery white instead of dark. And when it's time to wash their clothes, the combination of dust and sweat makes a kind of white mud that is yukky indeed to have to pick up to put in the washer.
But, on the other hand:
1. Sheetrock hangers get up very early in the morning to go out into all kinds of weather to earn their living, and provide for their families. (all of them are not so good at this, but the one that I'M married to is).
2. He works when his shoulder is hurting so bad that he cannot lift his arms above his head, because he cannot afford to take off for the six months that it would take to heal if he had the surgery that he needed.
3. He works in the freezing cold in the wintertime, and the burning heat in the summertime to provide for his family.
4. He stresses every Friday about whether or not the people that he worked for this week will pay him what they owe him. If they don't, his workers get paid anyway, but he doesn't. And if he gets ripped off by the builder, then that loss is his.
5. The work is so physical that it is no wonder that he has shoulder and knee problems. As he likes to remind me often: "We're not spring chickens anymore".
There are many other pros and cons, (more cons than pros, let me tell you), about what to expect if you marry a sheetrock hanger, but I have thoroughly depressed myself, and don't want to think about it anymore.
So, bottom line is: these are just a few of the things that you will face, but you have to ask yourself if the hassle of putting up with the aggravations are worth the reassurance of knowing that he will do his best to take care of you and the children that depend on him, and know that he does what he can do, and if you want a clean shed and yard, then either clean them up yourself, or marry a professional man. I guess I'll stay where I'm at, after 30 years, I've 'bout got him broke in, and at times I'M not the easiest in the world to live with either. (sheepish grin)
Besides, if I didn't have junk all in the yard, then I'd be mighty lonely, 'cause he wouldn't be here, and I'll put up with the junk (don't mean I gotta like it), in order to have someone to argue with. Happy Gardening!
P.S. What does this have to do with gardening you say? Why, because I keep my garden tools in the messy shed of course! (All put up neatly, I might add).
Monday, December 22, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Does And Don'ts of Clearing Garden Debris
This is the way it works: you decide to finally get off your lazy bum-bum, (Frankie and Steven's new word for rear-end, courtesy of two years of living in California), and slog your way out through the (literally) five-foot-high weeds, to clean up the area that is supposed to be called your garden. Now, in the first place, you are not supposed to let your garden get into such a state, and in the second place, you are not supposed to let it go for so long without cleaning up for the winter. (I kill myself, preaching about how to get your garden ready for winter, and then letting mine go so bad). I know! I can blame it on SADD, the seasonal disorder that some people get in the wintertime, when they recieve less sunlight, so it makes them depressed........ Well, it sounded good anyway, sigh...... Ok, ok, I admit, I've let the stupid garden go all to pieces. Well, to the weeds anyway. Can't blame the bugs this time, they are all dead, YIPPEE! Finally got rid of them little suckers, halleujah! 'course, now nothing is growing, (weeds included), but, by golly, them bugs are history baby! Ok, now that I've gotten that off my chest, I feel much better, (MY kind of therapy is cheap, hehehe!)
Back to the subject at hand: to re-cap - I've slogged my way through the five-foot-high weeds, gotten through the guilt-trip, and rejoiced about the absence of bugs........ So, as I studied the situation, (all the tangles of thick, dead weeds), I ultimately decided that the best way to handle the dilemma of getting rid of them from my raised beds, was to burn them off. Now, first of all, when you decide to burn weeds, you 1.Make sure that it is not a windy day. 2.Make sure that you have a water supply handy. 3.Make sure that you are not alone. 4.Make sure that you have cell-phone signal, and 5. Make sure there are no structures or vehicles close to the burning area. The reason that I know what NOT to do is simple: 1.I burned weeds on a windy day. 2.The water supply had been turned off at the pump-house for the winter. 3.I was all alone on a dead-end country road with very few neighbors. 4.The area where I was has always been completely without cell-phone signal, and 5.Steven's junky trailer AND my vehicle were within danger range.
Now, I've said before that I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, and every lesson that I've learned has always been learned the hard way, so you'd THINK that I would have given this some thought. I probably wouldn't have done it if I had not had a lighter, but lo and behold, I found a lighter in Steven's junky old trailer, just in time to do the dirty deed. Yippee!
So, I went all around, setting lots of little areas on fire, (had to make it burn away faster, don't you know), and before I knew it, all kind of grass was burning. Now, it's hard to have to try to decide to fight the fire by yourself, or call the fire department; if you take the time to call someone, the fire can spread so fast, because of the wind, and if you decide to fight the fire before calling (so you won't be embarrassed about causing such a calamity, because even I'VE got to admit, it was a pretty stupid thing to do), then the stupid thing could get out of hand so quickly.
So, I started raking and stomping, and frantically beating that darn thing out as fast as I could, so I wouldn't have to admit to anyone that I'd made a ton of mistakes; and hoping and praying that I could handle it by myself; when I actually started making head-way, and could actually see being able to put it out without having to call someone. Whew! what a relief! dignity restored. Now, if only the neighbors up on the hill didn't notice anything.
So, in the end, I got the fire put out; hung around for a while afterwards to make sure that no sparks got carried by the wind, and re-set the darn thing, and tried to breath a sigh of relief that the situation got no worse than it did. So, all's well that ends well..........except that...........the stupid weeds in my raised beds didn't burn at all.........they were wet and mushy and did not light up; it was the grass all AROUND the raised beds that caught on fire. Good Grief!
Back to the subject at hand: to re-cap - I've slogged my way through the five-foot-high weeds, gotten through the guilt-trip, and rejoiced about the absence of bugs........ So, as I studied the situation, (all the tangles of thick, dead weeds), I ultimately decided that the best way to handle the dilemma of getting rid of them from my raised beds, was to burn them off. Now, first of all, when you decide to burn weeds, you 1.Make sure that it is not a windy day. 2.Make sure that you have a water supply handy. 3.Make sure that you are not alone. 4.Make sure that you have cell-phone signal, and 5. Make sure there are no structures or vehicles close to the burning area. The reason that I know what NOT to do is simple: 1.I burned weeds on a windy day. 2.The water supply had been turned off at the pump-house for the winter. 3.I was all alone on a dead-end country road with very few neighbors. 4.The area where I was has always been completely without cell-phone signal, and 5.Steven's junky trailer AND my vehicle were within danger range.
Now, I've said before that I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, and every lesson that I've learned has always been learned the hard way, so you'd THINK that I would have given this some thought. I probably wouldn't have done it if I had not had a lighter, but lo and behold, I found a lighter in Steven's junky old trailer, just in time to do the dirty deed. Yippee!
So, I went all around, setting lots of little areas on fire, (had to make it burn away faster, don't you know), and before I knew it, all kind of grass was burning. Now, it's hard to have to try to decide to fight the fire by yourself, or call the fire department; if you take the time to call someone, the fire can spread so fast, because of the wind, and if you decide to fight the fire before calling (so you won't be embarrassed about causing such a calamity, because even I'VE got to admit, it was a pretty stupid thing to do), then the stupid thing could get out of hand so quickly.
So, I started raking and stomping, and frantically beating that darn thing out as fast as I could, so I wouldn't have to admit to anyone that I'd made a ton of mistakes; and hoping and praying that I could handle it by myself; when I actually started making head-way, and could actually see being able to put it out without having to call someone. Whew! what a relief! dignity restored. Now, if only the neighbors up on the hill didn't notice anything.
So, in the end, I got the fire put out; hung around for a while afterwards to make sure that no sparks got carried by the wind, and re-set the darn thing, and tried to breath a sigh of relief that the situation got no worse than it did. So, all's well that ends well..........except that...........the stupid weeds in my raised beds didn't burn at all.........they were wet and mushy and did not light up; it was the grass all AROUND the raised beds that caught on fire. Good Grief!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Improving The Soil
I don't know what happened to that last post. It is a collection of my favorite photos, set into a movie. It posted, but, for some reason, I can't get it to play. Oh, sigh.
While Amber and I were in California, I was able to get some baby lily bulbs from Tansy's front yard. She has got some beautiful lily flowers that some military wife planted, before she and Jacob got there. I was totally amazed and awed at the quality of the dirt in Monterey. Here, we have clay, which is good in its own way, (it's good about holding water), but it is absolutely back-breaking to try to dig, plow, or otherwise generally disturb in any way.
When I started digging in Tansy's flower bed, I was totally amazed at how easily the shovel went through the dirt. It was so crumbly, and light; I could have dug a hole to China in just two hours, it was that easy! You can, however, improve the soil where you live, if you are not so fortunate as to live in Monterey, where the soil has the consistency of lumpy flour. (I swear to you, it was that easy to dig). Improving the soil where you live is not a complicated matter. What I did in my garden this year was, when we built the raised beds, we put a mixture of clay dirt, and bagged top soil. At the time that we put the beds in, we had a man out there with his big tractor, clearing off the spot where our new house was to go. I told him while he had his tractor there, and was disturbing the dirt anyway, to take a good truckload of topsoil down to the garden area for me. Topsoil is great for planting in, especially if it has lain fallow for a long time. Forest topsoil is fantastic; all the leaves and pine needles and other forest debris that has decomposed over the years, is just brimming with wonderful nutrients to grow plants in. Topsoil is a lighter color than the subsoil. It is more crumbly, easier to work, with lots of compost and castings in it. So, I don't think that what the guy put in our garden area was exactly top soil. It was just as red as the red clay that was all over the rest of the place. But it was there, and seeing as how I didn't have the money for a dump truck load of compost or topsoil, I figured I'd just have to make the best of the situation. So, we tried to mix equal amounts of dirt and bagged top soil, and compost, (bagged at this point, because I didn't have enough compost made for three, thirty foot-long garden beds.) Filling those beds in was some more kind of hard work, let me tell you. Hauling the dirt to the beds, dumping it all in, and then mixing the dirt and topsoil together. And, I knew that I didn't have enough top soil to do the job correctly, but when you're on a strict budget, you do the best you can do. I was hoping to do what I could this year, and slowly try to improve year after year, which, actually, is basically what all gardeners do. So, we got it mixed the best we could, and planted, and we actually had a pretty good garden. (We are NOT going to talk about critters at this time). My plan this next spring is to shovel some compost on the top of the beds, work it in, and see what happens this next garden season. Now that I've got the bulk of the dirt in the beds, hopefully the rest shouldn't be as hard to do. I've got a fairly decent compost pile; a neighbor has horses, and I helped clean out the stalls so I could take the bedding and "other stuff" for my compost pile. It has gotten kind of soggy, which compost is really not supposed to do, but I figure I can salvage it by shoveling on a layer between now and spring, so it will have a chance to dry out and finish breaking down. (But first, I have to get all the debris from last season out of the way, sigh.......) That's my plan, anyway. Happy gardening.
While Amber and I were in California, I was able to get some baby lily bulbs from Tansy's front yard. She has got some beautiful lily flowers that some military wife planted, before she and Jacob got there. I was totally amazed and awed at the quality of the dirt in Monterey. Here, we have clay, which is good in its own way, (it's good about holding water), but it is absolutely back-breaking to try to dig, plow, or otherwise generally disturb in any way.
When I started digging in Tansy's flower bed, I was totally amazed at how easily the shovel went through the dirt. It was so crumbly, and light; I could have dug a hole to China in just two hours, it was that easy! You can, however, improve the soil where you live, if you are not so fortunate as to live in Monterey, where the soil has the consistency of lumpy flour. (I swear to you, it was that easy to dig). Improving the soil where you live is not a complicated matter. What I did in my garden this year was, when we built the raised beds, we put a mixture of clay dirt, and bagged top soil. At the time that we put the beds in, we had a man out there with his big tractor, clearing off the spot where our new house was to go. I told him while he had his tractor there, and was disturbing the dirt anyway, to take a good truckload of topsoil down to the garden area for me. Topsoil is great for planting in, especially if it has lain fallow for a long time. Forest topsoil is fantastic; all the leaves and pine needles and other forest debris that has decomposed over the years, is just brimming with wonderful nutrients to grow plants in. Topsoil is a lighter color than the subsoil. It is more crumbly, easier to work, with lots of compost and castings in it. So, I don't think that what the guy put in our garden area was exactly top soil. It was just as red as the red clay that was all over the rest of the place. But it was there, and seeing as how I didn't have the money for a dump truck load of compost or topsoil, I figured I'd just have to make the best of the situation. So, we tried to mix equal amounts of dirt and bagged top soil, and compost, (bagged at this point, because I didn't have enough compost made for three, thirty foot-long garden beds.) Filling those beds in was some more kind of hard work, let me tell you. Hauling the dirt to the beds, dumping it all in, and then mixing the dirt and topsoil together. And, I knew that I didn't have enough top soil to do the job correctly, but when you're on a strict budget, you do the best you can do. I was hoping to do what I could this year, and slowly try to improve year after year, which, actually, is basically what all gardeners do. So, we got it mixed the best we could, and planted, and we actually had a pretty good garden. (We are NOT going to talk about critters at this time). My plan this next spring is to shovel some compost on the top of the beds, work it in, and see what happens this next garden season. Now that I've got the bulk of the dirt in the beds, hopefully the rest shouldn't be as hard to do. I've got a fairly decent compost pile; a neighbor has horses, and I helped clean out the stalls so I could take the bedding and "other stuff" for my compost pile. It has gotten kind of soggy, which compost is really not supposed to do, but I figure I can salvage it by shoveling on a layer between now and spring, so it will have a chance to dry out and finish breaking down. (But first, I have to get all the debris from last season out of the way, sigh.......) That's my plan, anyway. Happy gardening.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Cute Lil' Snake
I was doing some clean-up work in the garden today, and as I was pulling spent bean vines, (minding my own business, don't you know), and I saw what looked like a great big worm. I can be kind of slow, but eventually I figured out that it was a snake. A SNAKE! IN MY GARDEN! UNDER MY DADGUM BEAN VINES! RIGHT BESIDE MY HAND! And, if this weren't bad enough, he was leering at me! I tell you what, that snake had his nerve, invading my garden, eating my bugs, leering at me! What is this world coming to, when an innocent person, (who is minding their own business), can't go out into the lovely world that God has so generously created for us, without encountering bugs, rodents, and reptiles? I've had my share of these creatures all summer long; all I needed to complete the trio was to see a snake. I'm complete now; the snake I've seen. There he was, hiding under the bean vines, (which were HUGE, by the way), slithering along in a concrete block, looking for all manner of things to eat, and he looked at me like I had the nerve to mess up HIS day, by tearing down all of his lovely bean vines! What makes creatures think that they can just trespass on someone's property and lolly-gag around, doing whatever, without a care in the world, la-di-da? So, I'll tell you what I did; I grabbed me a big stick, crept up on him from behind, (although this was hard to do, because he kept squirming around), and got ready to WHOMP the tar out of him............. when I got to thinking........... wait a minute. Didn't I read somewhere that 1. the bees and butterflies pollinate the vegetables and flowers 2. the toads , bats, and the lizards eat all the creepies 3. and the snakes catch vermin!
Let's see, let me think about this a minute; (you remember I told you from the first that I was not the sharpest tool in the shed?) Hmmm, a snake in the garden might not be such a bad thing after all. Lets add up all the reasons why I should not whomp this bugger, right where he slithers. 1. He eats vermin. (well, he will someday, when he grows about two more feet; did I mention that he was only about twelve inches long? too little to make snake stew out of , sheepish grin............) 2. He actually wasn't leering at me after all; it's kind of hard to tell if a creature is leering at you when you can't see his eyeballs very well, because they are pin-pricks in the sunshine. 3. He was kinda cute; he was all curled up, ( it kinda looked like he was posing, really! ), and he was flicking his tongue at me, (you know that snakes use their tongues to check out the world around them, don't you?), and yes, I could swear that he was winking at me! (Ok, maybe he wasn't winking, snakes don't have eyelids, after all............. or do they?) 4. He wasn't lunging at me with intent on bodily harm; actually he looked kind of docile, come to think of it. 5. And, (drum roll please), he is already in the process of eating vermin! He's not big enough yet for mice and rats, but some day he will be, and in the meantime, he can cut his teeth on crickets and other such creepie-crawlies. And if something in my garden is willing to eat the creepie-crawlies, then have at it brother! All of that said, I just couldn't bring myself to whomp him, he was just too little and cute. Problem was, I didn't know if he was poisonous or not. I'm not a snake expert, and he couldn't talk to tell me whether I needed to worry or not, and I certainly didn't want my dear husband, (who is getting on up in years, and not able to swiftly get out of the way, poor thing!) , to get bitten by what might, or might not be a poisonous reptile. So............ I bravely, and with great trepidation, lunged at him, grabbed him by the tail, and whisked him with lightening speed into a soft-drink cup. Now, this is probably not the best thing in the world to keep a possibly poisonous reptile in, but out in the wilderness, you do what you have to do, to accomplish the task at hand; (protecting my aged, infirm, ...........well, you know.) I did manage to find some screen-wire and rubber bands to secure the top of the cup; (this wilderness was maybe not quite so void of SOME needed items, it seems.) Well, to make a long story short, we took Elmer, (the baby snake) up to my brother-in-laws house; and we were told that he was just a chicken snake, wouldn't hurt you, actually make good pets, and so forth and so on. We took him home to show JoAnna, and then let the poor little creature go forth back out into the wilderness, to do what snakes do. (Ok, ok, this is what really happened: I took him out to show him to JoAnna and Joe, and he took one look at freedom, and jumped right out of my hands, and took off like a streak of brown and tan lightening, vvvrrrroooooommmmm! ) Oh well, I've got vermin up here that need to be eaten too.................
Let's see, let me think about this a minute; (you remember I told you from the first that I was not the sharpest tool in the shed?) Hmmm, a snake in the garden might not be such a bad thing after all. Lets add up all the reasons why I should not whomp this bugger, right where he slithers. 1. He eats vermin. (well, he will someday, when he grows about two more feet; did I mention that he was only about twelve inches long? too little to make snake stew out of , sheepish grin............) 2. He actually wasn't leering at me after all; it's kind of hard to tell if a creature is leering at you when you can't see his eyeballs very well, because they are pin-pricks in the sunshine. 3. He was kinda cute; he was all curled up, ( it kinda looked like he was posing, really! ), and he was flicking his tongue at me, (you know that snakes use their tongues to check out the world around them, don't you?), and yes, I could swear that he was winking at me! (Ok, maybe he wasn't winking, snakes don't have eyelids, after all............. or do they?) 4. He wasn't lunging at me with intent on bodily harm; actually he looked kind of docile, come to think of it. 5. And, (drum roll please), he is already in the process of eating vermin! He's not big enough yet for mice and rats, but some day he will be, and in the meantime, he can cut his teeth on crickets and other such creepie-crawlies. And if something in my garden is willing to eat the creepie-crawlies, then have at it brother! All of that said, I just couldn't bring myself to whomp him, he was just too little and cute. Problem was, I didn't know if he was poisonous or not. I'm not a snake expert, and he couldn't talk to tell me whether I needed to worry or not, and I certainly didn't want my dear husband, (who is getting on up in years, and not able to swiftly get out of the way, poor thing!) , to get bitten by what might, or might not be a poisonous reptile. So............ I bravely, and with great trepidation, lunged at him, grabbed him by the tail, and whisked him with lightening speed into a soft-drink cup. Now, this is probably not the best thing in the world to keep a possibly poisonous reptile in, but out in the wilderness, you do what you have to do, to accomplish the task at hand; (protecting my aged, infirm, ...........well, you know.) I did manage to find some screen-wire and rubber bands to secure the top of the cup; (this wilderness was maybe not quite so void of SOME needed items, it seems.) Well, to make a long story short, we took Elmer, (the baby snake) up to my brother-in-laws house; and we were told that he was just a chicken snake, wouldn't hurt you, actually make good pets, and so forth and so on. We took him home to show JoAnna, and then let the poor little creature go forth back out into the wilderness, to do what snakes do. (Ok, ok, this is what really happened: I took him out to show him to JoAnna and Joe, and he took one look at freedom, and jumped right out of my hands, and took off like a streak of brown and tan lightening, vvvrrrroooooommmmm! ) Oh well, I've got vermin up here that need to be eaten too.................
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)