The Brush Off

Tom and Jerry (you'd have to be old enough to remember the cat and mouse cartoons) are two bachelor buddies who hang around together, eying the ladies and waiting for a meal.  They always show up for breakfast and then go for a stroll.  I see them here and there throughout the day, but in the afternoon they perch on the board fence (not easy for birds this size) in the shade of the oak in the side yard.

Back in the day, babysitters had not yet been invented or, if they had, my parents didn't get the word.  Consequently, I was taken everywhere my parents went.  Inveterate card players, they took me to many poker games at many houses and I went to sleep on strange beds, listening to the sound of chips clicking and cards being shuffled.  At Uncle Sox's house (his name was Winfred), my cousin Joanne, years older than I, entertained me by brushing my hair as we listened to the radio.  (No such thing as TV then.)  I loved this attention.  When my Kids were growing up, a good way to settle them down was to line them up on the couch with one on the floor and start a round-robin of hair brushing, each taking turns grooming one of the others.  It's a habit I can't break.  I keep a slicker brush by my chair.  Whichever animal ends up on my lap (and there's always one or more) gets brushed.  Every goat gets a brush off every morning.  I can't help myself.

The pink peony opened fully and has such a different face than the white.

As I was taking this shot for comparison, I saw that a butterfly had photo-bombed the picture.  I wasn't about to give him the brush off.