Feeding the Swallows July 2019

Yesterday was feeding the swallows. No matter how many times I do that, it's a delightful way to spend part of an afternoon. There fearlessness always amazes. I know they won't, but I am always convinced at least a couple times that a collision is coming. Velvet jets, impeccable maneuverability, one of God's creations to make engineers jealous. I have no idea how they connected with humans and lawnmowers somewhere in the past, but I am thrilled that they did. Who knew that mowing the back of The Acres could be an aerial art show? And with the rain coming today, the timing was perfect for me. And for them as well, I guess. The meadow will need cutting again soon. =)

Homesteader Update July 28, 2019

For those of you who were wondering--both of you--the Homesteader, aka Dumb Animal, aka Dish Rag, aka The Boss is doing quite well. She's still just as beautiful and brilliant as she thinks she is. And she's still very much at the center of the universe--her universe. Though it is summer, and she knows it--I'm home just about every day--she still insists on waking me up at 5:30 in the morning. Sweet nothings in my ear, paws in the center of my back, no mercy until I rise and shine. Shine meaning feed her.
As always the chair in the doorwindow is hers when she wants it. Occasionally, she'll share and sit in my lap--as long as I pet her. When I get up to do anything, she just plops in behind me. And woe to the human who tries to sit back down then! I am glad that I am still not proficient in Catonese. Her days are spent loafing around the house, sitting in the windows upstairs, making the motion light at the top of the stairs flash on and off. For exercise she can still fly up those stairs or fly across the upstairs floor and leap into one of the windows. And if she sees something of interest, she races down the stairs to check things out. Her greatest pet peeve is if I sit in the chair and read--newspaper, book, anything. She jumps into the chair, pushes whatever I think is more important than paying attention to her out of the way, and starrs me down until I do as I've been trained to do--spoil her.
Anyway, she's doing fine. Ask her and she'll be delighted to let you know. She'll greet you at the door, flop down and pet herself, just so you know that wherever you've been, you should have been home petting her. I should have named her Ego.

Menagerie July 2019

Afternoon observations from the doorwindow at The Acres.

First, the yellow warblers showed up. Up to something in the hickory trees by the pond. Flashes of yellow--furtive but busy. Then, the small calico had an encounter with a groundhog at the edge of the patio. She was under the Last Ride, and he decided to crawl under there as well. Both came out nervous but not afraid. She was impressed by his size, I guess. Sat and observed him but didn't run. He was not impressed at all. Kept right on munching the Queen Anne's Lace. After he left, she came and sat at the door and just watched me. Yawned.
Scratched. I think she knows how beautiful she is. More impressed by the groundhog than me I imagine. Finally, the family of wild turkeys meandered by. Tom, Mom, and eight little ones--if turkeys are ever little. Paraded everywhere--down the driveway a bit, up to the pond, around the hickory and out into the side yard. Stealthy, observant, always looking around--well, Tom and Mom anyway. The clan just followed wherever the adults led them. Spent more time bumping into each other than anything else. The Acres has its own menagerie. You just have to be still and observant. Let nature have its way--beauty and entertainment follows. And it's all free.

Backroads of Morrow County Update July 2019

Backroads of Morrow County Update:

Though it's a tad late, the corn has reached, if not surpassed, its "Knee high by the fourth of July" mantra. Very little of it had made it that high by the fourth, but it seems to be making up for lost time. And there's more than I imagined. Some of those fields overgrown with grass and weeds actually had corn in them. Now that it's growing the secret is out. Some of the soy beans are doing okay as well--nice green carpets as one traverses the backroads. A lot of them are, however, pretty pathetic. The wheat has been harvested though there was very little of it this year. Nevertheless, patches of gold pop up here and there along the roads. As always the most beautiful fields are the ones with hay bales doting the small green contours on a canvas of blue sky and white clouds--some with a touch of gray. More rain coming perhaps.
The usual suspects adorn the wires. Lots of doves, red-wings, a meadow lark or two, squadrons of barn swallows, even a hawk or two checking out the menu. On rare occasions--thankfully today was one of them--a flash of indigo bunting thrills the old man's soul
Flower decorations on my journey? Tons of orange day lilies. Even more white Queen Anne's lace, and still a sprinkling of daisies. Some tall yellow flower I'm not quite sure what it is--likes the areas around the streams and one lane bridges. Pink? Some pink/red clover; a tad of tall pink flowers--blazing star perhaps.
Not much human traffic today. Some of the gravel roads have a new coat of fresh tar--to keep the dust down, I guess? Just one deer running through a field of sheep. The doe was in a hurry; the sheep, not so much. Meal time for them. All in all, it was a nice cruise through the backroads. Beautiful scenery in its simplicity. Quiet solitude and silence. Perfect vacation trip for an old hermit.

Musings July 2019

Musings at The Acres:
I never thought I would say this in the summer of 2019; but, a little rain would be nice--especially since I just replanted some things yesterday. The heat affects me some, but I can handle four hours or so--the mosquitoes, however, have been vicious. Yesterday, they weren't too bad, so off to work I went. I walk no matter what, but feeding the insects deters me sometimes. I know, the rain may bring them back, but The Acres really does need it in most places. A couple places are still too wet to mow, but they're not big spaces.
Next on the agenda will be re-doing some beds. That's work, but alas, it must be done. Lots of other stuff, too--but I've given up trying to catch up with the weeds. The flowers don't seem to mind; they just bloom away anyway. I notice them and not the weeds. =) Lots more blooms to come. I am especially anxious to see how many cardinal flowers show up in the bog. Last year there were over a dozen, and I am hoping for even more this year. They are lovely things. The two main surprises this year--there were several--were the poppy mallow and the tall bell flower. Thank you Gardening Angels. It has been years since any mallow bloomed, and the bell flower is completely new. It only blooms every other year so I'll have to hang around a couple more years to see if it comes back.
In other news the birds with no song finally showed up--small green heron and kingfisher. What a racket they make--and the goldfish disappear. They, of course, will return in late autumn or even early winter. Oh, the rose-breasted grosbeak are still hanging around. Lovely feathered-friends. The Acres are doing well--rain would be nice--and the old man is enjoying his seclusion. And the boss is enjoying bossing me around. All things remain the same.

Tall bell flowers

poppy mallow

July Swoon 2019

Goings on at The Acres:
July is here--red hot, humid July. I never thought I would be happy for a rainstorm in 2019--but I was. The grass had been cut so that's not an issue. Some of the plants in the planters had been feeling the heat. And the beds are so overgrown with weeds already, I'll never catch up anyway. Turned out the lights, listened to the strumming of the rain with Homesteader, reveled in the lightning, awed by the power of the wind in the trees. Quite a lightning bug display as well. Who needs man-made fireworks?
The creatures have been up and about. Had a skunk welcome me home one night. A family of raccoons drops by once a week or so--parents and two young ones. The big one--I assume dad--tries to climb the bell tower to get into the feeder on the back patio. Trouble is, he's so fat that he always rings the bell so I know he's there and can send him on his way. Possum comes by too on occasion. God can do ugly. =) I have a new Posse. Psycho is still around--has to be at least three years now. And the little calico. A new black-gray has shown up as well. Likes to sleep at night in the chair on the front patio and in the shade out back by the big shed. Have no idea where he came from. Today a couple of kittens showed up--one black, one orange. Probably belong to Psycho. But she's not a very good mom. Ah well, no! I will not feed them. Wild things.
A few of the goldfish are up and about nearly every day, so that's good. Not all of them--just 40 or 50 little ones. Active little things. And, of course, my feathered friends show up every day. Color everywhere at The Acres not even counting the flowers.
The life of a hermit. Ahhhh. God is good to this old man.