In separate conversations, Pete and Clay let me know they think I might be spending too much time with the squirrels and getting a little squirrely myself. What can I say? Yesterday Tree Squirrel (aka Beach Babe) and Ground Squirrel (Junior) teamed up, one on the railing and the other on the deck at the same time. I keep hearing Ray Stevens singing, "They're everywhere! They're everywhere!" I'm not ready to show the white flag just yet, but I'm getting there. Bessie Anne doesn't even lift her head anymore when the home invaders show up.
Speaking of home invaders, I'm getting a little antsy these days. It's that time of year when there are streams of tiny black ants in the house, looking for food and water. I find them in the bathroom sink when I brush my teeth. They're particularly fond of Bessie's bowl of dog chow in the kitchen. So far, so good with the cat dishes. I spray the baseboards and they move their train up the wall. This invasion happens every year so I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I like it. It could be worse. It could be the dreaded red fire ants or the huge black wood ants, or, worse still, the thousands of earwigs that were in the house when we moved in. I really don't like earwigs.
Got three yards and down the drive mowed yesterday. Mowing after it's gone dry isn't as much a pleasure as a chore. The breeze that makes it bearable in the heat also blows dust in waves and chaff down my neck and in my hair. Only the star thistle is green and growing, and growing, and growing. Don't tell me this plant isn't a survivor. I have to keep lowering the mower blades as the plant puts out its thistles on shorter and shorter stalks as I cut it down.
Overcast skies this morning and cool enough for a robe. As hundred-degree days are forecast for this weekend, I will most certainly enjoy this weather while I can.