Happy As Kings

We have crocuses, it must be spring

They're a bit battered as a late snowfall sat on them for a day or so, but the cheerful little optimists continued poking up, regardless.

Yellow garden spider

We had a lovely garden spider by the garage, but the arachnaphobes in the family whacked it.

She was about five inches, including her legs.

Nazi arachnaphobes.

Our spring uncoiled

A few weeks ago the early warmth was enjoyable, but it tricked everything into blooming early.

   

Yesterday's snow bent everything out of shape, to include the lilac with all those early leaves that caught the soggy snowflakes.

It's supposed to warm up again, so at least we won't have to shovel.

Wondeful Wovel Works!

We got a Wovel for Christmas, and it works.

All by my podgy 55-year-old lonesome, I cleared the double driveway, the sidewalk, the part of the road in front of our house, and our neighbor's driveway across the street.  It all took about half-an-hour. 

I didn't work off as much podge as I would have with a regular shovel, but I don't care.

Frightening the wildlife

I went outside this morning to feel the wind on my face while the oatmeal was bubbling away in the microwave, and who did I spot rustling around in the leaves the pin oak keeps shedding but a Very Startled Opossum.  She (because her face is cute) scuttled under a board propped up against some fencing meant to keep our cats in our yard (it doesn't work, but it slows them down).

I went inside to let her recover from her scare, and she scuttled again.  This time it was up the rise, past the birdfeeder, and through a broken bit in the fence into the next-door neighbors' yard (the broken bit is too small for the cats to fit through, so I leave it for the wildlife).  I expected her to find some low-lying hidey-hole, but that wasn't on the opossum agenda for the day.

She didn't find a hidey-hole, she climbed a tree.

I've seen Al Capp cartoons with possums hanging from trees by their tails, but I'd never before seen a real, live possum in a tree.

I have now.

By the time I got back in the house, my oatmeal was in the same state as Mama Bear's porridge.  Tooooo cold.

Bonus points

I would say I'm getting acclimated to living on the edge of the American prairie because I gardened today, in July (!!). 

In the first few years after we returned from Europe I usually hid in the basement from May until October.  I'm sure the neighbors thought I'd been done away with (a re-do from when we returned to Munich after a 6-month absence because of my husband's military retirement, and my reclusive ways caused a former neighbor, prior to our chance meeting in front of Baskin-Robbins in the PX lobby, to think my husband and I had been divorced; I'm no social butterfly  [Chad's mom, in case eldest son is reading along]).  And I didn't go outside because I'm getting used to summer heat (didn't like it when I was four years old in South Dakota where we'd moved from London -- I remember the instant of deciding I didn't like it; don't like it now), but only that I now have memories of what the garden looks like when I emerge from my hobbit hole in October having not gardened all summer:  CRABGRASS, CHICKWEED, SAPLING JUNGLE!!

But here it is, July (!!) no less, and I was outside this morning doing battle with the volunteer saplings in the perennial bed.  (Why is it that the plants I want to grow require work, babying, and cash sacrifices to procure specially blended dirt in order to prosper -- and then prosper very slowly -- while volunteers not only show up with no help from anyone, but settle in and cheekily thrive in the face of active mechanical and chemical discouragement from me?) But now I can say that the perennial bed looks more like a perennial bed, and less like a very small abandoned lot.  Because it's a hot and humid July day, I get bonus points for household chores.

I'd show you a snapshot of the tidier perennial bed, but I'm not going outside again without some serious bribery.

Rufus, I did catch some fireflies

They're the two anomalous yellow splotches in the grass on the mid-left, and at the right on the fence.

It's a good thing I wasn't burning up film trying to catch them!  Btw, ISO 1600, f4.5, can't remember the shutter speed, but it was slow.

2nd time at the store, I couldn't not buy it

Our child's name is Rose.  Our new rose's name is Gertrude Jeckyll.  Her perfume is divine.

Hi, lily, hi lily, hi lo

I like Easter lilies because their scent reminds me of the fields by the perfume factory in Bermuda, so every Easter I buy a pot of the best smelling lilies in the grocery store and then plant the bulbs in the garden.  Every time, the lilies come up orange instead of white, which is fine with me, but I'm disappointed that they have no perfume.  (as was finding out that the perfume factory has been closed [sigh] )

I understand why flowers from cross-pollinated seeds might not breed true, but why would flowers from the same bulb not have the original flowers' characteristics?

I can identify

Now that I've got a relatively empty nest, it was rather humorous to watch two grackles trying to get away from their offspring.

The parents hopped around the ground and in one of the neighbor's trees fleeing the chicks-as-big-as-they, and all the while the youngsters trailed along squawking at their parents.  "Feed me!  Feed me!  Feed me!"

I think the kids had to find the 'fridge for themselves.