Oh Well

The first thing I saw on morning walkabout yesterday was a pair of very pregnant does browsing down in the east meadow at the edge of the woods.  From now on, I'll be on the lookout for when they appear with their fawns.

Deck plants have no patience.  Rain was in the forecast but the plants would just not wait.  They sat in their pots yesterday, gasping dramatically and limp, insisting that they be watered now.  Begrudging every drop, I pulled out the hose and gave them all a drink.  One good thing, they all show gratitude by perking up and standing straight.

With possible precipitation predicted, I thought to get at least one more yard mowed.  Fu Manchu thought otherwise.  Why, oh why, do mechanical things choose precisely the wrong time to turn on me?  I treat Fu well, feed him lots of fuel and as much oil as he needs, give him a shower and a rest after work, and I got nothing in return yesterday.  Wiggling wires and bouncing on the seat to adjust connections got no results.  (Go ahead, I laughed at that picture myself.)  I'm thinking, hoping, that he just needs a new battery.

Today I awoke to the sound of "60% chance of rain" dripping off the roof.  It didn't last long, but there was enough to settle the dust.

Somehow the blankety-blank ground squirrel got into the cage and ate the last bud from the Tropicana rose.  I am bereft.  This same stupid squirrel is defeating his own purpose (and mine) by coming onto the deck and eating the flowers of the strawberry plants.  My mouth had watered in anticipation of the fruit that was to come, but for naught.  I catch sight of the little booger as he comes creepy-crawling, making his selections.  I don't know where he got the idea that I am providing an all-you-can-eat buffet, but he is certainly taking advantage of free meals.

Tom and Jerry continue to repel invaders in the truck bumpers, when they should concentrate on the young male who proudly parades around with his harem of two.  The young tom's chest beard is only a short goatee, nothing like the five- or six-inch growth on the older guys.

Last night's sunset showed a perfect glowing orb in a pastel sky.

Squirrel and Fu Manchu notwithstanding, it was a good day.