Posted tagged ‘birdfeeder’

If you think dogs can’t count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them.

June 25, 2012

My PC has gone to PC hell so I’ve disconnected its lifelines and will haul it to my computer guru today. I’m thinking it needs a new hard drive. Luckily, all my music, pictures and a variety of files were backed-up. I learned that lesson before this.

Today is a delight with a cool breeze and little humidity, but that’s supposed to change. Last night the weatherman said showers. I’m hoping he’s right.

The outside will get my attention today. I have a new holder for bird feeders which goes into the ground and has a squirrel baffle on the rod. The spawn of Satan will try to climb and the baffle will slide him right back down again. I figure it will be fun to watch! Nothing better than a frustrated spawn. The rod had six hooks so I’ll pick up a hanging plant or two. Another chore is the front garden where I noticed some flowers are picnic food for the bugs so they need to be sprayed. I’m thinking any excuse to stay outside today!

Last night I had dinner at my friends’ house. Tony barbecued burgers for us and two small burgers: one for Darci, my friends’ dog, and one for Gracie. When I got home, I gave Gracie half and left the rest in the bag on the counter. It disappeared, but this morning I saw the empty bag in the backyard. It seems Gracie is a counter surfer!

My dog Duke, the Boxer I had when I was growing up, was a great counter surfer. Nothing was safe. Once he grabbed the Sunday roast, and my brother and I had to pry his mouth open to save the meat. That was when I learned that tooth marks can be pressed out of uncooked roasts. My Shauna, also a Boxer, was a wonderful counter surfer. She could reach all the way to the wall. One time she stole a cake cooling on the counter and ate half of it so I had to hurry out and buy dessert as half a cake wouldn’t do. Shauna was also a trash bag mauler. If I left the bag on the kitchen floor, Shauna could break any world’s record in opening the bag and taking any food. I’d find trash on my bed because she used to haul it upstairs for reasons I never fathomed. Gracie, who has access to the outside through her door, takes the trash out if she’s been bag surfing. Every now and then I go out and collect her trash. I always feel a bit like her maid.

“Spring being a tough act to follow, God created June.”

June 24, 2012

I should be outside wabbling “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” as today is perfect. The humidity is gone, the sun is shining and it is only 72°. Last night the sky darkened and winds blew from the north so I expected a tremendous storm. We got one for about five minutes. The huge drops pounded the deck, and I was hoping for thunder and lightning. I’m still hoping. The storm was a bust.

I declare today a deck day. I’ll haul out my iPad and the magazines I got yesterday and sit and enjoy the day. I do have to fill the bird feeders and water the veggies, but those are my only tasks of the day.

My first cherry tomato is ripe. Fireworks are in order!

The roads were filled this morning when I went to breakfast. I found a booth right away in my diner, but within a short time, crowds were waiting outside for seats. The crowd is a sign summer has definitely started here, but, for those of you who are skeptics,  I even have further proof of this change in seasons. As I was going to the diner, the driver in front of me for what seemed like forever put his blinker on four times before he turned. I cursed. The air turned blue. Yup, that’s my summer color!

It’s a short post today as I can see the deck out my window from here in the den. The breeze is ruffling the leaves, the birds are singing and I swear I can hear my name being repeated over and over again.

“A budget tells us what we can’t afford, but it doesn’t keep us from buying it.”

June 8, 2012

The morning is a bit chilly but is a lovely morning with a bright sun and a blue sky. According to the paper, today is supposed to be warm, 70°. I definitely need to clean the deck again so I can sit outside and enjoy the day.

I have to hit a couple of stores today, mostly for the dog, the cats and the birds. I cleaned the feeders yesterday and filled them with the last of the seed. While I was outside, a hummingbird dropped by. Gracie was lying on the lounge but sat up when she heard and saw the rapid wings of the hummingbird. It hovered a bit, and I was thrilled to be able to see the tiny bird so well. I hurried and added nectar to my hummingbird feeders. I hope it comes back to check.

When I was growing up, my mother always paid the bills. She used to have budget envelopes in which she’d place money every week when my father got paid. The envelopes were brown and were in a wallet like folder which I think I remember as red. On each envelope my mother had written the amount to put in and the bill to be paid. She also had a Christmas club at the bank so she’d have extra money for presents. Despite the envelopes and the budget, my mother always scrounged enough money for the Saturday matinée all winter and the ice cream man in the summer. On Saturdays, we’d get money for the ticket and a nickel for a candy bar. We usually bought candy which took a long time to eat like Sugar Daddies. In the summer, when Johnnie rang his ice cream truck bell, we’d run to my mother. Sometimes we’d get a nickel and that meant a popsicle while other times we’d get a dime which meant trying to figure out what we wanted. I know once in a while I’d get an ice cream sandwich or a cone, the one covered in chocolate with nuts on the top, but I also loved creamsicles and fudgesicles. It was always difficult to make a dime decision. The nickel decision was easy: a root beer popsicle. Every now and then I’d get a blue one, taste unknown, because it made my tongue blue which I thought was funny and worth showing the world by constantly sticking out my tongue.

When I first bought this house, it took half of my monthly salary to pay the mortgage, and I knew having little money meant I needed to keep a budget. I used regular white envelopes for mine and on them, like my mother, I wrote the bill to be paid and the amount to put in each envelope on pay days. I also started a Christmas club.

I survived those lean years, and at the start of every school year I made more money so within a few years I didn’t need a budget any more. I felt rich.

“A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule.”

May 21, 2012

Today is damp and misty. It is supposed to rain later this afternoon and tomorrow. My landscaper is weeding my garden right now and getting it ready for plants. I’ll be buying them on Wednesday and also the herbs and flowers for my deck planters. Today I have a long list of places I need to go but they’re all within a mile of each other so I don’t have any complaints.

I filled all the bird feeders and the bird baths yesterday. I also put out a new oriole feeder for grape jelly, but I don’t know if the orioles are around yet. I have another new feeder yet to be hung with two bowls so the orioles will get their jelly and some orange nectar. I have a new hummingbird feeder which is also a suncatcher. That will go out a bit later. I’m running out of branches and using poles won’t help as the deck is too high to see them. Maybe there are some I can attach to the deck. I’ll have to do some hunting.

My father planted pansies, geraniums or marigolds in the front garden of my childhood home. That was the only spot for flowers. The sides and middle of the garden also had a few bushes which came with the house. Two fir trees were on the side lawn. The backyard was for the clothes line. His lawn was always beautiful. I think the fathers of the neighborhood gauged their manliness by the quality of their lawns. Some of the yards had lawns filled with weeds and brown spots of dirt, and the fathers who lived there were the objects of disdain.

When I was older and my parents had bought their own house, my father gave guided tours of his lawn. I always armed myself with appropriate adjectives when I was taken on the tour. Every year he’d asked, “Isn’t this the best lawn?” Every year I’d answer yes.


%d bloggers like this: