Smokey's Day began with a drink from the bird bath.....
The sun was bright, pink, and warm....
It had rained in the night. The two brothers came from their home from the hill.
To sit by my door. And twitch their ears.
Smokey lounged on the porch...........
He rolled.......
He took a break........
He peered in the door...............his favourite one.
He showed his big gold eyes.................
Then he settled. In the warm.
In the light......
Then the rain started. Again. That afternoon.
And Smokey pondered his options....
Like he always did. Till the rain stopped. And the sun came out again.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Thursday, April 23, 2015
The Day the Chicken Danced....
The day the Chicken danced, Cordelia from the hill came out to see. Cluck. Went the Chicken.
Spencer remained asleep in the moss pot. Snoring. Snoozing.
When Cordelia heard the chicken next door she peered through the fence.
Spencer stayed in his pot. Cluck. Went the Chicken. Curious Cordelia could not help herself.
The barn sat mute. Hiding its treasure trove of chickens.
Only Cordelia saw the dance of the Chicken.
The Chickens danced. Preened. Ran hither and fro.Somebody's dinner guest.
Cordelia popped down from her perch. To see. To marvel.
While the Chicken danced up and down. Hop. Hop. Hop.
Cordelia watched.
While the Chicken danced. Hop. Hop. Hop. Cluck. Cluck. Cluck.
And Cordelia forgot about the Chicken dancing. Especially when we told her how pretty she was.
The day the Chicken danced...
Spencer remained asleep in the moss pot. Snoring. Snoozing.
When Cordelia heard the chicken next door she peered through the fence.
Spencer stayed in his pot. Cluck. Went the Chicken. Curious Cordelia could not help herself.
The barn sat mute. Hiding its treasure trove of chickens.
Only Cordelia saw the dance of the Chicken.
The Chickens danced. Preened. Ran hither and fro.Somebody's dinner guest.
Cordelia popped down from her perch. To see. To marvel.
While the Chicken danced up and down. Hop. Hop. Hop.
Cordelia watched.
While the Chicken danced. Hop. Hop. Hop. Cluck. Cluck. Cluck.
And Cordelia forgot about the Chicken dancing. Especially when we told her how pretty she was.
The day the Chicken danced...
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Dirt sloshing
It's kind of like Christmas. This time of year. It's time to finally muck about with dirt and pots and seeds and fertilizer and and and and......There's a rapt audience. (Just like at the Christmas Concerts.) Smokey and Spencer from the hill. They flop in the shade. They start to snore.
They like the tinkle of wind chimes and the quiet and dirt sloshing into pots.
I don't have as many hanging baskets as I used to. I found they dry out too fast with a hot summer. Kind of a pain to keep up with. But I always do a few. Especially one with Rhodochiton ( Purple Bell Vine). Hard to find sometimes. My name is down at one of the local greenhouses to be called when a shipment comes in. ( Small town perk) In one basket I probably shove in about 22 little bedding plants. Maybe 23. Or 24. I tend to shake off dirt from the lower half , so they all fit.The more the merrier. Then use the accumulated soil for another pot or two.
Not only pots to plant, but seeds to sow in the back of the hill.
(Reminds me I have to dig out the compost. )
This year I picked up some Fish Fertilizer. For strong blooms. You have to use it sparingly. One year I used so much that the plants burned . Ouch. Had to replant . But the second batch bloomed without even being coaxed. Stuff stinks. Flies will LOVE you...
Hanging baskets are done. Ready for the greenhouse.
It's not very large. Big enough for about 20 musicians. Maybe a few more if they don't bring their instruments. I utilize the space like crazy.No place to walk.And I won't tell you how I hung up the baskets AFTER all of this was inside. (Just imagine Cirque du Soleil)
The cats snored away the afternoon, missing all the excitement.
Day is young, time to plant sweet pea seeds. A gazillion at last count. Sometimes I soak them, sometimes not. Depends if I remember. I've never found it to make much of a difference.
But soaked, or not, I plant them in sea soil at the terrace, in troughs at back of fence, side of house, in large pots ....basically anywhere that I think they will grow. Best not to overthink . Just do. Just plant. Then see what happens.
And Smokey and Spencer have finally woken up.
They like the tinkle of wind chimes and the quiet and dirt sloshing into pots.
I don't have as many hanging baskets as I used to. I found they dry out too fast with a hot summer. Kind of a pain to keep up with. But I always do a few. Especially one with Rhodochiton ( Purple Bell Vine). Hard to find sometimes. My name is down at one of the local greenhouses to be called when a shipment comes in. ( Small town perk) In one basket I probably shove in about 22 little bedding plants. Maybe 23. Or 24. I tend to shake off dirt from the lower half , so they all fit.The more the merrier. Then use the accumulated soil for another pot or two.
Not only pots to plant, but seeds to sow in the back of the hill.
(Reminds me I have to dig out the compost. )
This year I picked up some Fish Fertilizer. For strong blooms. You have to use it sparingly. One year I used so much that the plants burned . Ouch. Had to replant . But the second batch bloomed without even being coaxed. Stuff stinks. Flies will LOVE you...
Hanging baskets are done. Ready for the greenhouse.
It's not very large. Big enough for about 20 musicians. Maybe a few more if they don't bring their instruments. I utilize the space like crazy.No place to walk.And I won't tell you how I hung up the baskets AFTER all of this was inside. (Just imagine Cirque du Soleil)
This year, my neighbours invited me to plant a few things in their veggie patch. Fun Fun Fun. They had already planted potatoes. They grow like wildfire on top of this hill, with the sun beating down, and the deer poop. Great fertilizer. I popped in pumpkin seeds, cataloupe ( have no idea if they will grow, but will see), Purple Bush beans, and Velvet Sunflowers at the far back.
And a sheet of glass to cover strawberries , steaming away in the afternoon.The cats snored away the afternoon, missing all the excitement.
Day is young, time to plant sweet pea seeds. A gazillion at last count. Sometimes I soak them, sometimes not. Depends if I remember. I've never found it to make much of a difference.
But soaked, or not, I plant them in sea soil at the terrace, in troughs at back of fence, side of house, in large pots ....basically anywhere that I think they will grow. Best not to overthink . Just do. Just plant. Then see what happens.
I even buried some into hanging baskets, swaying in the greenhouse.
So much dirt, so many pots. Running out of seeds. Running out of dirt to slosh about.And Smokey and Spencer have finally woken up.
Labels:
cats,
greenhouse,
Hanging Baskets,
Rhodochiton,
seeds
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Cordelia's Kingdom
On Thursday, Cordelia, from the hill, sat on her Moai and surveyed her kingdom. It was a very nice place, this kingdom of hers.
The sun was higher that usual, she thought.
Two brothers greeted each other in the late afternoon sun.
Sniff. Sniff.
Cat breath.
Cordelia watched the cherry tree sway, and the Fiddleheads dance.
The Morel mushrooms quivered in the wind. Cordelia did not like mushrooms.
The humans had been participating in a seasonal ritual. Cordelia did not understand this need to gather flowers and plants. Plants and flowers. Where were the treats?
Cordelia preferred birds to plants. Or treats. The humans often had treats.
The greenhouse was stuffed to the gills with the plants. And flowers. Containers of dirt sat at the ready. Cordelia wrinkled her nose. Inside the greenhouse were garter snakes. She loved to hunt garter snakes. They slithered.
Ahhhhh. A flying snack, thought Cordelia. Too far away. Smokey shooed her off her Moai. He was watching the snack fly away. He too, liked flying snacks. Though the humans would often ply her and the the others with treats. To distract them, she thought. From the snacks that flew. Cordelia felt it was time to go home. To find her own humans. Tomorrow she would go to the greenhouse and search out the garter snakes that lived there. They would make a nice present for the humans of her kingdom.....
The sun was higher that usual, she thought.
Two brothers greeted each other in the late afternoon sun.
Sniff. Sniff.
Cat breath.
Cordelia watched the cherry tree sway, and the Fiddleheads dance.
The Morel mushrooms quivered in the wind. Cordelia did not like mushrooms.
The humans had been participating in a seasonal ritual. Cordelia did not understand this need to gather flowers and plants. Plants and flowers. Where were the treats?
Cordelia preferred birds to plants. Or treats. The humans often had treats.
The greenhouse was stuffed to the gills with the plants. And flowers. Containers of dirt sat at the ready. Cordelia wrinkled her nose. Inside the greenhouse were garter snakes. She loved to hunt garter snakes. They slithered.
Ahhhhh. A flying snack, thought Cordelia. Too far away. Smokey shooed her off her Moai. He was watching the snack fly away. He too, liked flying snacks. Though the humans would often ply her and the the others with treats. To distract them, she thought. From the snacks that flew. Cordelia felt it was time to go home. To find her own humans. Tomorrow she would go to the greenhouse and search out the garter snakes that lived there. They would make a nice present for the humans of her kingdom.....
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