If you can't beat them, eat them

Modern Farmer.
It's a farm journal I get that I like a lot.
It is both informative AND quirky, which seems strange, but they do it very well.
If you want to check them out, here is a LINK for you.

Today's issue
Modern Farmer: The If You Can't Beat Them, Eat Them Edition.

Slime Fight: How to Manage Slugs and Snails

By Brian Barth on May 6, 2015

BLAAAAHHHHH!

and

Blahahahaha!

Aging is Bad

Last year, I was having a couple of health issues that caused me to go in and see my favorite doctor. A few weeks later I was in the hospital having surgery.
It was a giant bummer.

Earlier this summer I started having a little trouble with a couple of my teeth.
I went in to see my favorite dentist. And over the course of the next few weeks I had to have some extensive work done that included complications that landed me in both the oral surgeon's office and the periodontist's office.
It was a giant bummer.

And if all of that is not bad enough, I feel like my vision is slipping.
Go see the eye doctor??
No way. So far these visits have not really gone well.
I have been putting it off and putting it off....
Then today I am driving in the car with my guy and I realize that he can see better than I can.
Well, that did it. I walked right in to Costco (home of the world's best optometrists) and asked if they could fit me in. Yes, they could, and a few nervous and dreadful hours later I was being seen by a nice doctor who told me that my diagnosis was "the bad bad B word".
Oh gosh.
And then he just sat there quietly, looking at me and waiting for me to pronounce the "B word".
I was starting to feel a big-fat-freak-out coming on, but I was able to hold it together long enough to utter the word..."Blind?".

"No! Bifocals. That is the problem with patients like you. You have 20/20 vision your whole life, and then when things start to get a little soft around the edges you think you can't see anymore...." blah blah blah. He had lots more to say on the matter, but none of it was bad. No blindness. No surgery. No specialists. Just bifocals. I can live with that.
Giant bummer avoided!

So, the next time you see me I will be sportin' a nice new pair of glasses (over my perfectly not blind eyes!).

Skunks are Bad: The final update

via

I wish I could say that no one was harmed in the writing of these blog posts, but...
My guy would beg to differ. He was forced to throw out his favorite pair of shoes and a brand new tarp. And even worse than that was the dinner plate sized puddle of skunk juice that was deposited in the the bed of his pick-up truck. We were pretty sure we were gonna have to burn that truck to the ground and get a new one. But after a couple of weeks he was able to start driving again, without retching.
On the bright side, my house smells just fine these days and I am able to have people over again.

A funny thing happen when I went to the mechanic...

So I have a new car.
It looks like this.

And by "new" I mean new to me.
And I love it.
And by love it I mean 30 mpg.

This was my old car.
I really loved it.

And by really loved I mean 300,000 trouble free miles.
Chevy Suburban. Tons of room. Smooth ride.
And did I mention trouble free.
Until the day it died. And that was that.

Ok, so on to the funny...
My "new" car had some sort of electrical glitch and it had to go to the shop this morning.
Now, for the record, I don't have much "take the car to the shop" experience (refer to the 300,000 trouble frees miles mentioned above.).
I follow my guy to the shop and he parks in the front lot and I can see that the service lot is around the side so I head that way. And there is a stop sign hanging on the side of a little kiosk thing which is empty. So I stop. I look both ways. And I continue on into the service lot and park my car in an empty space. And then I glance in the rearview and I see that every man in the place is staring at me/my car. And I get the feeling that I am not supposed to be back there. But what am I going to do? Turn around and drive back out? Stay put? Fly off into the great unknown?? Good grief.
I decide to go with the get-out-of-the-car-and-act-like-nothing-is-wrong-plan.
It worked ok. The service manager came over and asked me if I needed anything and I said that I had an appointment to get my car serviced and he said he would be glad to help me with that, and all the while he is leading me out of the unauthorized area and into the approved customer zone. And he was very nice and he did not mention my big faux paus.
But my guy did.
"Why did you drive the car back there? Didn't you see the stop sign?"
"Yes I did see the stop sign. That is why I stopped right there before I drove into the parking lot".
"Everybody knows that stop sign means stop and wait here for help".
"What do you mean everybody knows that. I am somebody and I didn't know that".
"Well I don't know how you got to be 40 years old and not know that".
(And it was so sweet the way he said 40. Like it was true.)
"That is so dumb. If they want you to stop and stay, why don't they say so. When you walk into a restaurant the sign either says "seat yourself" or "please wait to be seated" it doesn't just say "stop".
"That is what the line is for. The stop sign means stop. The LINE on the ground means stay here".

And how can a girl argue with this. I mean really.
And by girl, I mean barely 40 years old.

The DMV is Bad!

It has been a little while since I have posted about a "bad thing" (which is usually kind of funny). But let me tell you something....the DMV really is bad. It is like a giant black hole. A time waster. Worse than a time waster, it is a time sucker. And your blood pressure goes up when you are there. And you start imagining how great it would be to fire a few people. Just like the Donald. Just shout out "Your Fired". And then you start imagining how you could clean the place up. Really make it run like a fine tuned machine. Just humming along. Processing paperwork and serving little snacks and coffee to the people while they wait in VERY short lines. And the place could use a little sprucing up, too. Something nice on the walls. And that picture of Moonbeam (aka Jerry Brown), that's got to go. And in it's place....something awesome and inspirational.  Something that makes you proud to be a US citizen. A Californian. And then maybe you could redesign the California license plate. Something pretty and contemporary and maybe a little ocean-y or mountain-y or  even quilt-y. And then you look around and realize that there are still 39 people ahead of you in line. And your blood pressure goes up a little bit more...

These pictures have absolutely nothing to do with this post, but aren't they pretty?!

I have had to go to the DMV 3 (yes THREE) times in the last month. So it has been on my mind. The first time I went, I decided to make an appointment, go early and beat the rush. Turns out, appointments are not that helpful and everybody seems to have the "go early and beat the rush" idea. I was there for 2 hours.

The second time I went with my guy and we decided to go in the afternoon and not even bother with an appointment. Turns out lots of people like to go in the afternoon. We got there at 3:30 and the place was PACKED. And what was worse was that no one was being called up to the counter. We were all just standing there like sardines packed in a can waiting and waiting and waiting. And every 10 or 15" (yes ten or fifteen minutes) someone would finally get called up.... so frustrating. But then all of the sudden things got interesting...The clock struck 5pm. Good ol' quittin' time. Except the room was still PACKED. But the employees were able to find this giant reserve of energy and dedication, and they cleared that room in 30" flat! I could not believe it. I looked around at 5:30 and we were the only people still standing at the counter. And the supervisor kept coming by and hurrying the employee along. It's quittin' time. Help these people and send them on their way.....We were there for 2 1/4 hours.

So! Don't you know that when I had to go back yesterday I had me a plan. A good plan. The 4:45 plan. I rolled into the parking lot a 4:45 and walked in sans appointment. Lots of people waiting. But I was feeling NO stress at all. As a matter of fact I was feeling a little smug. I was about to redeem some time. The clock struck 5, and just like before the supervisor appeared and started to get things moving along. I was at that counter at 5:05 and even though I had a lot of paperwork to be processed (we bought a car out of state and for some reason California REALLY FROWNS on that sort of thing) the employee and the supervisor worked together and got it all done in 10" and sent me on my merry little way. I was there for 30".

It's called the 4:45 plan. Keep it in mind my California dwelling friends!

I didn't anticipate this....

I have two lemon trees.
I've had them forever. Ok, maybe just 7 or 8 years.
But look at them. Scrawny. Lemon-less. Unhappy.

I have tried lots of different things to make them happy.
Fertilizer. More water. Less water. Different locations.
And nothing seems to help.


But I am not one to give up. Not on lemon trees. So I am off and running with
Plan Q.

I have recently moved them out to the big new garden. And when I say that I moved them, what I mean is that my guy moved them and I supervised. I am an excellent supervisor.

Now, it is all sun, all the time. That seems like a good plan.
But the best part of the plan revolves around a story I heard from a friend's mom.

It seems that she too was living a lemon-less life. Pitiful trees that produced nothing or close to nothing. But then one year she had a freezer fiasco and everything in it thawed and spoiled before she realized it. She had a LOT of mackerel tucked away in there. Mackerel that she had shipped home from Russia when she was out visiting family. Because you just can't get good mackerel in America. But now, it was all spoiled. So instead of letting it go completely to waste, she took it all out and buried it under her lemon tree. And KA-BOOM. That lemon tree was transformed into a super-tree, producing grapefruit sized lemons for the next 10+ years.

So, I decided that this was the plan for me. But where in the world was I going to get a freezer full of spoiled Russian mackerel?? Hmmm..... Then one day as I was contemplating this fish dilemma, I saw two high school boys that we know pull up in a big red pick-up truck and load up my guy's kayak. Hmmm.....I happen to know that both of these boys were born with fishing poles in their hands. And they obviously had some sort of arrangement with my guy. Hmmm....I was starting to feel a plan come together.

So, I asked my guy what was up with the boys and the kayak. "Ocean fishing" he says. Hmmm....

"Babe, do you think the boys actually catch any fish."
"Oh yeah. Billy says they killed it last week."
"Huh...Do you think they would be willing to bring me the guts and heads and stuff?"

This is when I get the look. THE look. You know the one that says "How is it possible that this is my lot in life."

"Um, why would you want guts and heads and stuff."
"To fertilize the lemon trees."
"And who is going to do this fertilizing?"
"Well, I was thinking...you."
"Oh great."
"But listen, I would be willing to pick all of the giant lemons that we are going to be getting for the next 10 years. All by myself. You won't have to help at all."

I got THE look again and then he said, "I'll ask them."

So, sure enough, last week the boys showed up with guts. And heads. And other parts. 30 pounds of super gross parts to be exact. Oh, it was gross. And stinky. Real stinky. Hmmm...my friend's mom did not mention this little tidbit.

My guy goes out and buries them quick-like, before we stink up the whole neighborhood. But they still stink! It is like the smell is just oozing out of the ground. It is so yucky. Unless you happen to be a little black dog. In that case, it is like a little slice of heaven.

Everyday when I go out to my garden she comes with me. She LOVES to go to the garden. She races ahead and runs laps around the whole thing while she waits for me to get there and open the gate. Then when I let her in she runs laps around the rows, and rolls in the mulch, and chases lizards, and eats the strawberries right off the plants.

But now that we have that smell...well it is a whole different game. She still runs ahead, but when she gets there she just paces at the gate waiting for me.

And when I let her in, she goes right to the smelly spots. And she...



It's like she just can't get enough! It is pure doggie-heaven.
(If you come by to visit me, DO NOT pet the dog!! But if you forget, don't worry, you will have a lovely little smell all over your hands that will remind you.)

And it is not just the dog. Look at this...


Somebody else wants in. I don't know who ripped this hole in my fence but I am pretty sure I will recognize the intruder if I come across him/them. Hopefully, it is a raccoon or a fox and not another dog from the neighborhood... My poor unsuspecting neighbors.

And one more thing. Now we have flies!! We've never had flies. Not even when we had a horse. But now, it's like a plague. Who knew?? Flies prefer fish guts to horse poo...

So, all of this to say that I am starting to regret this plan. It is sorta grossing up my life...Man, I hope I get some lemons!!

"Think" is bad

We live on a pretty quiet street.
On any given day I can look out my front window and see nothing but nature.

An unusually busy, high traffic day on the street would look a lot like this:


A VERY unusual day would look like this:

Yikes!
I don't like this kind of thing. It just doesn't read normal. Something is up, and if it involves this many men in neon... it just can't be good.

Turns out they are gonna start digging up the neighborhood next month. And "high pressure" testing some old pipe line. And they "think" it runs through our place.

Lucky us.

Rush Rush Rush is Bad

I needed to get to the post office today. I had a couple of packages to mail. But one thing led to another, and then another. And then all of the sudden it was 4:20! And I didn't even have the packaging yet!!

So I flew down the hill and stopped at the store to get what I needed. But I neglected to bring (or buy) scissors. So, what should have been a simple wrapping job quickly became a chore. And let's not forget that the clock was tick-tick-ticking away.

So, I was standing in the passenger door of my car wrapping up (aka: doing battle with) my packages when all of the sudden I heard a man's voice right behind me. It startled me so badly that I jumped.... and screamed....out LOUD!!

Can you believe it?? It was kind of like:

Or maybe even like:

Now, for the record, this is my standard reaction any and every single time I cross paths with a rattlesnake. Any snake really. And actually, that is usually how I become aware of the presence of a snake. All of the sudden, without warning, I am jumping up and down and screaming like a lunatic. All of that happens, and THEN I look around to see what is going on, and sure enough there is always a rattlesnake near-by.

Except today. There was no rattlesnake anywhere to be seen. Just a nice little old man holding the newspaper. And backing away. And saying how sorry he was to have frightened me.

Good Grief!!

Turns out he was lost and just needed directions.

I repeat: Good Grief!!

So, after both of our hearts started beating again, I was able to direct him to his destination (1 street over!) and then jump in my car and race for the post office. And I got there with eight minutes to spare!! Which would have been perfect, except they closed at 4:00, not 5:00.

I repeat: Good Grief!

It is just never good to be in a rush. And apparently, it is also not good to ask a stranger, who is wrapping packages in her car, for directions. I'm just sayin'....

PS: I did not take those 2 photos. I downloaded them from my favorite free photo site. And how perfect was it to find a corgi and a black cat, since I have both!

Quarterlies are Bad

Today's big job is to get my quarterlies paid.

I really, really HATE this job.

But it has to be done.

So I got up early this morning to get it done and out of the way.

But first, the dog needed a walk. We walked the full 4 mile loop, which nearly killed the both of us since it has been well over a year since we have hauled ourselves up that enormous mountain!

Then I needed to rest, of course! Which I did by putting my feet up and flipping through the new issue of Country Living magazine that just arrived.

It was super inspirational, so I decided to do some serious cleaning, redecorating in the living room, and cleaning out of cupboards.



By then it was time for lunch. And hey, a hardworking girl needs her lunch.

Then I did all of the laundry I could find, cleaned off the porch and the landing, chatted with the SoCal gas men who were working on my hillside, and cleaned my studio.

But I still couldn't bring myself to start on those darn taxes.

So, I ripped out the center of my lone star quilt and started to put in a better fabric. (Yep, it was a real nosebleed! But not as bad as paying the taxes!!)

And now, of course, I am fooling around on the computer while I contemplate my next move. I have narrowed it down to either making bread or fertilizing my roses.

And then there is that board meeting tonight that I cannot possibly get out of....

This may very well still be hanging over my head tomorrow too!
Why oh why must taxes be paid quarterly when annually is MORE than sufficient!!

And with that bit of whining, I am off. Off to fertilize or bake, or maybe go see a man about a horse...or is it a horse about a man...hmmm.

Unbelievable!

I just wanted to change the needle!!

But, I accidentally tried to loosen the screw that holds the foot on.
And GOOD GRIEF!! The head of the screw fell right off.
But the shaft is still in the machine!!

I am feeling very grumpy. Very grumpy indeed!

Mice are Bad

I have been doing some spring cleaning. Serious spring cleaning.
Now, the inspiration for this crazy cleaning frenzy was....mice.
Can I tell you that is am so-beyond-over having mice in my house.
So-beyond-over it!

Our little cowgirl and her pony moved out months ago, and they took all of the alfalfa with them. I was so excited about that part because surely it meant an end to the mice. But no. They are still here.

This picture, of course, has nothing to do with spring cleaning.

Who wants to see a picture of that?!

So the Great Clean Out began. The first day, my guy came home from work completely unprepared for the tornado that comes with spring cleaning, (especially unexpected spring cleaning). He walked in the door and instead of the usual greeting I heard:
"Oh...my...gosh. What is going on?"
"There is a mouse in the pantry."
"Really."
"Yes, and it has got to go."
"I can see that."
"I am not kidding, Honey. It is the mouse or me. I can't take this anymore."
"OK. What do you want me to do?"
"Double down on the traps. I want traps everywhere!"
"Traps everywhere. OK. Is there going to be any dinner?"
"Maybe."

So, he doubled down on the traps and as of today he has caught......nothing. Not one thing. Can you believe it? I am starting to think that maybe our mouse problem was not as bad as it seemed. But still, there was that little mouse doo-doo right on my counter top. In plain sight. And one on the stove top! And that was just two too many and in all the wrong places.

So now, we have a really really clean house. And it is so very nice. It makes me happy. And we have lots and lots of mouse traps. That makes me happy too.

A clean pantry.

In closing, just let me share with you what I have learned about mice during my cleaning frenzy:

1- mice like croutons, blueberries, tortellini, and dried black beans

2- mice do not like brown rice pasta from trader joes, dried lentils or kidney beans
3- mice do not limit themselves to the kitchen
4- they also like to hang out in book closets, under the bathroom sink and in dresser drawers
5- when a mouse unexpectedly runs out of the pantry while you are cleaning it, you will scream and jump up onto a chair
6- mice will actually chew through the metal part of a votive candle to eat the wax

Yep. Who knew.

Skunks are Bad

Last night, shortly after we went to bed, I heard noises. So, I got up to look out the bedroom window. I did not see anything moving around, but I did see that there was light coming out of the living room window. Now, I was the last person to go to bed and I had turned those lights off on my way!!
"Honey, wake up! I think someone's in the house."
"What?"
"I think someone's in the house. The light is on in the living room."
"Wait here."
I did not wait. I followed him down the hall. A good 10 paces behind.
Nothing. We checked every room and closet.
"Honey, I turned this light off myself and I heard noises. That's why I got up."
"I'll check the garage."
This time I waited.
Nothing.
"No one is here."
"Honey, I am telling you I heard noises and I know I turned this light off!"
"So someone broke in and turned on the light?" Now, my guy said this in complete earnest. And he had this look on his face that he gets when he is serious and trying to work something out. And it is always hilarious. ALWAYS.
So, I laughed. Because he is so funny. But I did not want to laugh, because I was a little freaked out.
And with that he said, "I am going to bed."
"Oh great. There is no way I am going to sleep anytime soon. And you are just gonna go to bed?"
"Good night."
That was at 10:00.
I sewed until 1:30.
Tried to go to sleep until 2:30.
Got back up and pulled out fabric for a project that has been on my mind. And then played spider solitaire until 4:22. At which time I was finally tired enough to go to sleep.

Don't worry, I am getting to the skunk.

Three and a half, very short, hours later I woke up to the smell of a skunk. But, I thought I must be hallucinating. Lack of sleep and all.

I had gone directly outside to get a couple of things done, and had promptly forgot about the skunk, because it did not stink outside. About a half an hour later I walked back into the house and was greeted by that awful smell. And it got worse as I made my way down the hall.

And that is when I realized that there must be a skunk in the garage. That's what was making all those noises last night. And it was probably still in there. Just waiting.

I called my guy. No answer.

So, I moved on to Plan B. I called Grandpa George.

"George, there is something wrong and I need your help."
"What?"
"I think there's a skunk locked in the garage!"
"Well. I see." (Now let me just point out that this comment was filled with the unmistakable sound of gleeful mischief! As a matter of fact, if you were to look up the word "mischief" in the dictionary, you would find a full page, color photo of Grandpa George. No words. Just the picture).
"I'm serious George. What are we going to do about this?"
"By 'we', do you mean you and your husband?"
"No, George I mean you and me! And mostly I mean you. I am doing my part by calling for help."
"I see. Now what you need to do is go down and open the garage door."
"No way, George!! Not me! It is probably curled up on the other side of the door just waiting for me...And, it's probably rabid."
"Oh yeah. It could be." More gleeful mischief here. "Just use the clicker to open the door."
"I don't have one."
"You don't have one?"
"Nope. Do you have one?"
"No. I have asked for one many times, but no one has bothered to get me one...yet."
"Do you think that your garage door clicker would work on our door?"
"I don't have a garage."
"Oh yeah."
"So it looks like you are going to have to go down there and open the door."
"Gee, thanks for the help George."
"I'll stay on the line while you open the door." (I am pretty sure he just wanted to know what it sounded like when someone got attacked by a skunk).

So, I crept down the stairs and cracked the door. No scurrying. No smell.
So I opened the door wide enough to get my hand through to flip on the light. No sounds. No smells.
So, I opened the door all the way. Nothing.
So, I dashed down the stairs and pushed the button to open the big door...And nearly killed myself trying to get back up the stairs before anything came to get me.
Nothing.

So, now I think that the skunk must be under the house. And I am waiting until my guy gets home to take care of it!!

In the meantime, I have every door and window open and all of the ceiling fans on high. Thank goodness it is supposed to be in the mid to upper 60's today.

And, if you were thinking of stopping by to visit me today....I wouldn't.

Jeeps are Bad

Back in 2004 we were thinking of celebrating our anniversary with a trip to Hawaii. But, we really did not want to spend that much money on such a short little trip, so we decided to buy an old jeep instead. Years of enjoyment for a third of the cost, that was the mindset behind our big decision. Little road trips, days at the beach, cruising town in the evenings, star gazing with the top down, picnics, maybe a little kissin'. You know. Easy, simple, fun times. And to top it all off, the jeep we bought was built in 1987, the same year we were married. Perfect, right?!

WRONG!
Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Instead of road trips and picnics and cruising, we got a toxic waste leaking, smoke billowing, stalling in intersections, breaking down on the freeway, refusing to start, driveway hog.
That's right. A big POS, (and I say that with a smile).

Here is a picture of her on one of her better days.

My guy LOVES this jeep. Never mind that it is a driveway hogging, time sucking, environmental nightmare of a money pit. To him, she is a DREAM. His baby. A little piece of heaven on earth. I think every time he looks at "her" the heavens open and little birds start to sing and the smell of pumpkin pie fills the air!

So, just over a month ago, he finally got her running. "For sure" this time. He started asking me if I wanted him to drive me anywhere. Everyday! At first, I declined, having had more than my fair share of experiences in that thing. But then, it started to seem safe, and my guy was SO happy! I decided to let him take me to places that were pretty close to the house. Then it was all the way out to church, and then to the beach, and then I even drove it myself a goodly distance from the house. Finally!! We had our jeep!

And to top it all off, my guy had made a little wager with a friend to see who could get their jeep running first. Surprisingly, my guy won! And so, last week we drove the jeeps over to the beach for fish and chips courtesy of the loser. Yum. Things were starting to look up.

So yesterday, I didn't hesitate to hop in that jeep and head over to my bff's house at the beach for dinner and a movie. I even complimented my guy on what a good job he did getting it running and how nice it looked.

And that's when it happened. That's right, just when I let my guard down and started to repent from my jeep bashing ways...BAM!

We got in our jeep and headed for home about 9:30. By 9:40 we were sitting in his POS on the side of the road. Nowhere near anything, in the dark, on a highway. Out of gas.
An hour later, after pushing that thing for miles, someone stopped and helped us out. He had gasoline, hurray! But sadly, it wasn't enough to get us started. So, he helped us push it into the nearest gas station so we could tank up.

But it was closed. That's right. Closed.

That's when my guy had to humble himself and call for help. My bff had to kick her guy out of his comfy bed and send him to the station across town with a can of gas to get us started. But it didn't work. We weren't out of gas, we apparently had a fuel filter or fuel pump problem. AGAIN.
That's right, again.

More jeep pushing, uphill of course, to a place where we could leave her overnight. And then our friend got to drive us home. A one hour round trip in the middle of the night. And he did it with a smile! Hugs and kisses to you Mr. Wonderful.

My guy sobbed quietly all the way home. No wait, maybe that was me.

Pneumonia is Bad

Yes it's true, pneumonia is very bad. I have have spent the last 12 days in bed, sicker than I have ever been in my life. And, I hope to never be that sick again!

Now, the care I received from my family....pitiful. These people that live here with me are NOT in any danger of being awarded Humanitarian of the Year!

A typical exchange went something like this:
(My Guy) "You want some tea or something?"
"That would be nice."
"What kind?"
"Green tea with a little honey and lemon."
Time passes and I hear all kinds of noise in the kitchen. Then he stomps back down the hall with the green tea in his hand.
"This is the only green tea I can find."
"That's the only one we have. What's wrong?"
(Grumpy face) "It says green tea WITH WILD PLUM."
"That's the one I want."
He stomps back to the kitchen.Time passes. He comes back.
"Do you want regular honey or raw honey."
"Raw honey I guess."
He leaves. Time passes. He comes back.
"Do you want one or two spoons full."
"Good grief. More like 1/4 of a spoon full."
"And you want lemon?"
"Yes please. A lot of lemon."
He leaves. Time passes.He finally comes back with a mug of barely warm tea balanced on a saucer that is also filled with tea, and 1/2 of a lemon (a meyer lemon, which he probably had to dig through all of the regular lemons to find that one little meyer lemon tucked in the back).
"You can squeeze the lemon in yourself."
"Thanks Honey, this is perfect."

(My youngest daughter)
"Becca, is that you?"
She sticks her head in my room.
"It stinks in here."
"Thanks Bec. I haven't seen you in several days."
"I know. I don't want to get sick."
"So you don't even check on me or anything."
"I know your still alive Mom. I can hear you breathing and coughing all the time. Even when you're sleeping your breathing is loud."

(My oldest daughter)
"Hi Mom. Just checking to see how you are. Bye." Beep

Where is the love?
Anyway, I hope that all of you out in blogland are happy, healthy and well cared for!

Blue Jays are Bad

Ok, so here's the thing. Last year I had a few blue jays hanging around my house. They were pretty funny to watch, and even funnier to listen to. The little song birds would be outside my window just singing their hearts out. Then the blue jays would chime in with this terrible squawking. But, it was wholehearted, and hysterical. They also loved to squeeze themselves into my miniature birdbath, two or three at a time, and fluff up their feathers and fling up the water all while squawking away. It was so entertaining that I decided to start feeding them so they would hang around.

That was a BIG mistake.

Shortly afterwards, I noticed that they had an affinity for my apple tree. THEN, I noticed that they were systematically stripping the little apples off the limbs! Every single one!! Well, the feeder disappeared and was replaced by a little pile of rocks. But, they had grown used to my house and had no intention of moving on. Instead, they started gorging themselves on chicken food. So, I got my guy to put a smaller gauged wire over the pen to keep them out. Finally, winter came and they were gone.

Now they are back. They must have remembered me. The lady with a weak arm and a bad aim. And, they are persistent enough to work little bits of food out of the songbird feeders. So the pay off is pretty good. But this morning, owwwwww, they went too far!
I had fed the hens and gathered the eggs. I put the eggs down so I could plant a few things in the garden while I was outside. I heard a funny noise behind me and turned around to see them on the bowl of eggs, chowing down!


So, here's the thing. I had a LOT of torn open eggs last year. My guy and I would stand at the nesting boxes looking at all of the broken shells and wonder what was going on. Now, we have had hens peck their eggs before, but this was different. I was convinced I had a snake or some other awful thing out there eating the eggs. And even worse, I was afraid that one day I would open the nesting boxes to gather the eggs and come face to face with this unknown creature! Never once did I think that it was the blue jays!!

Now I know better. And, I bet that most of you who are reading this story already knew that blue jays are actually pests and not amusing birds. Sometimes I wonder how I can manage to survive a single day without constant supervision. Really. So, if you would like to help me out, just let me know.