Posts Tagged "weeding"

Puppy Invents New Game to Amuse Mom

Dear Kid,

I'll be right back...but there's important sniffing to do! DearKidLoveMom.comThe Puppy has created a new game called Get Mom to Get Up and Move.

That’s not what it’s called.

We were outside weeding. Well, I was weeding and he was sniffing weeds. Let’s call the spot where I was sitting Point A.

That’s a dumb name for a pile of mulch.

The Puppy started wandering East of Point A.

I was following my nose!

When he got to the edge of our property, I called for him to come back. He ignored me and kept slowly wandering toward the east.

I was following my nose, not my ears.

I got up, pushed my way through the bushes that he’s small enough to walk under, grabbed his leash, and led him back to Point A.

After a moment or two, he began to wander in southerly direction.

Important sniffing had to be done.

I kept an eye on him, but when he reached our property line, I told him to wait for me.

My tail tried to wait for you.

His tail may have wanted to wait, but clearly his nose was in control and he continued to meander while I got up and fetched him back.

We had an important talk about staying on our side of the invisible lines.

The squirrels don’t have to!

No sooner had we finished our talk than he began to wander West.

I wanted to see what was over there today.

Rinse and repeat. If he could have figured out how to wander up, I’m sure he’d have done that too.

All in all, it was hard to get much weeding done….

Eventually, the Puppy gave up, flopped in the sun, and contented himself with letting his thoughts wander.

Love, Mom

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Nighttime Gardening, Fighting the Weeds, and Agreeing on Who Makes the Rules

Dear Kid,

What a lovely weekend we’ve had so far.

First we visited you, YAY!

Yesterday, we did a lot of gardening. The never-ending weed pit we call our entire property gives us plenty of time to spend together.

Last night we were going to go to an event at the Observatory but Dad decided the cloud cover would make it difficult to see things which would annoy me and frustrate him. Unless it would frustrate me and annoy him. Anyway we didn’t go.

Instead we decided to do some nighttime gardening. Weeding by firefly light. Someone (me) thought it would be a good idea. Someone (Dad) thought we should wear long sleeves and long pants. Someone (me) agreed to wear jeans but absolutely refused to wear a long-sleeve shirt in 90 degree heat with 90% humidity.

Someone (Dad) suggested he married someone who was silly and stubborn. Someone (me) didn’t disagree and compromised by putting on bug repellent. Out we went.

Someone (the Puppy) patrolled the area, decided it was safe, and assumed guard position by curling up in the mulch and going to sleep. Never seen him sleep in mulch before. He actually slept for a bit, got up, turned around, rearranged the mulch to his satisfaction, and went back to sleep. Dad tried to take a picture but the pre-flash kept waking the Puppy up. Imagine him with his head tucked under his wing and little baby snores floating around his head.

Eventually it got too dark to see what we were doing so we went in. Someone (me) of course had been thoroughly munched. Someone (Dad) suggested long-sleeves might be in order in the future. Someone (me) pointed out that it wouldn’t have prevented the bite I got on my face and if he didn’t stop talking and start helping with the hydrocortisone there would be bigger problems than bug bites. Someone (Dad) compromised by lecturing while he helped with the hydrocortisone. Someone (me) very maturely thanked him while ignoring the lecture.

Someone (Dad) asked if I planned to wear long-sleeves in the future. Someone (me) suggested he was out of his mind for even thinking such a thing.

Someone (Dad) has perfected his long-suffering sigh. He’s currently online, buying stock in whatever pharmaceutical company manufactures hydrocortisone.

Love, Mom

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Squirrel Wars 2016 Have Begun

Dear Kid,

Dad is at it again.

Or perhaps I should say the squirrels are at it again.

Either way, someone is at it, and “it” involves birdseed and removing tree limbs.

Dad was convinced that the squirrels couldn’t reach the birdfeeder, or that the one clever squirrel had reached the end of his time here on planet earth and was stalking birdfeeders in squirrel heaven.

And so he (Dad) happily went about his business.

Until I refilled the birdfeeders and Dad happened to look outside.

(Insert stabbing music from Psycho.)

Squirrel Wars 2016 Have Begun. Dad is --once again -- trying to keep the rodents off the birdfeeders. DearKidLoveMomWhat followed next was something out of a scene from Caddy Shack. A scene that hit the cutting room floor, but a scene nonetheless.

Dad raced out of the house, shouting at the squirrel to mind his (the squirrel’s) own species, and inviting plagues of curses upon the house of said rodent. The threat of his lineage being cursed didn’t seem to upset the squirrel in the least. The threat of a crazy man descending upon him waving a cell phone made him reconsider hanging out on the birdfeeder.

Once the birdfeeder was squirrel-free (temporarily), Dad went about assessing the situation to make it squirrel-free (permanently).

Saws, loppers, dynamite, drones, schematics, ladders, a laser pointer, and eye of newt were all involved.

Squirrel Plotting to Get Birdseed Squirrel Wars 2016 Have Begun. Dad is --once again -- trying to keep the rodents off the birdfeeders. DearKidLoveMomIn short, one of the nearby trees had its bangs trimmed. And the squirrels seem unable (or unwilling) to leap from the branches to the birdfeeders.

But the hand shears are still on the porch so that Dad can race out and prune away if the need should arise.

Perhaps this should be an Olympic sport.

Love, Mom

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Can I Get an Awwwww…

Dear Kid,

TwoLittleBoys have moved in across the street. Their parents have moved in with them, but they are peripheral to the story. It’s the TwoLittleBoys who are important (as little boys often are).

The Puppy is delighted and half in love with the TwoLittleBoys. I think it has something to do with them being about his size. And that they think he is marvelous since they don’t have a dog of their own. (Can I get an Awwwww.)

This morning, Dad and the Puppy went across the street where the whole family was busy working on landscaping. The landscaping drew Dad; the leash and the TwoLittleBoys drew the Puppy.

By the time I fell out of bed and thudded downstairs for coffee, Dad was preaching about bushes and the TwoLittleBoys were treating the Puppy like the royalty he is.

I took my coffee outside and sat on the front porch. Dad was the first to notice me, and he came home to sit with me and say good morning. (There are a lot of opportunities for you to say “Awwww” in this story). The boys went into their house to fetch the Puppy a dish of water. Without his adoring audience to distract him, the Puppy began to sniff around.

He (the Puppy) realized I was outside and began to trot home. The DadAcrossTheStreet realized what was going on and lunged for the leash as a car came roaring around the curve. Collision avoided. Car went on its way (with more than one dirty look floating along after it), Puppy pulled on the leash and came barreling over to say good morning and tell me about TwoLittleBoys.

Meanwhile, the TwoLittleBoys had fetched their bowl of water and carefully carried it outside. Dad let the Puppy say good morning to me and then took our baby back to the TwoLittleBoys so he could partake of their offering.

Everyone was ecstatic. Squealing and petting ensued.

Later, after the Puppy came home to take his rightful place napping in the sun and Dad and I were weeding (Part 9,873), I caught Dad staring across the street.

The DadAcrossTheStreet was sitting with one of the TwoLittleBoys and they were weeding. Or co-weeding. It was adorable. Dad was obviously remembering you at that age.

Can I get an Awwww…

Love, Mom

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Poison Oak Attacks Suburban Mom! and What We Can Learn from Nature

Dear Kid,

It turns out we have poison vines in our backyard. I’m pretty sure it’s not poison ivy (unless it is) and it might be poison oak (unless it isn’t), but whatever its name official might be we can clearly call it the “gives mom itchy bumps” vine. From hell.

I am not including a photo of me because A) I pretty much never include a photo of me, B) there is nothing attractive at all about Poison Vine Bumps, and C) Dad says I look funny with white stuff on my face—not a look I care to immortalize.

Despite having been recently attacked by the Vine of Death and Destruction, Dad and I did some more work outside today.

Now, you know how I feel about wildlife (it belongs in the wild) and how I feel about legs (up to four is quite a sufficient number and anything with more than for is showing off and icky). But I can appreciate when Mother Nature does something cool. Especially if it doesn’t crawl on me.

When you get right down to it, ants creep me out (too many legs). So here are some pretty flowers. At the bottom of the stem (not shown) is one small ant, minding his own business. DearKidLoveMom.comSo there we were, weeding away (complete with Puppy supervision), far from the area where we encountered the vine of torture wielding poisons. I grabbed a piece of dead tree stump to move it—and it moved (amazing, I know). Which is to say part of it moved, revealing a nest of little black picnic ants.

After an obligatory squawk of surprise, I took a good look. I’d uncovered the nursery. Little neonatal ants (I could tell because of their badges and uniforms) were scurrying to move their little charges to safer territory. No one had to yell, no one had to use a bullhorn, no one worried about budgets, no one formed a committee to discuss the best way to recover from the natural disaster (me). They just worked together to get the job that obviously needed to be done, done.

I’m also pretty sure they didn’t develop a post-emergency power point presentation.

Sometimes I think people can learn a lot from nature. Especially when it stays outside where it belongs.

Love, Mom

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