Come for the politics, stay for the snark.
My sister and her husband came down for father’s day and because we care about our parents, they socially distanced on the porch:
Devon brought down a bunch of strawberries that I am eating right now- they are so ripe and sweet I cut the tops off with a butter knife.
First things first- that bullshit stunt Trump signed about police reform isn’t worth the paper it was written on so there is no point talking about it.
Now to the important shit- I posted some pictures of the backyard and everyone was “Screw the yard what about the birds?” Ask and ye shall receive.
Geranium nest is active and occupied:
Dead Fern nest #1 is active and occupied:
Live fern nest appears to have been abandoned:
Dead fern nest #2 is similarly abandoned:
The nest at the top of the column has had its inhabitants move on, and the birb house on the porch is now home to a wasp nest, which I am just going to let be because wasps gotta live somewhere and that’s as good a place as any.
Once the occupants of the dead fern nest #1 move on, and I am going to move the nests into live ferns in case they came back for a second litter. Is it called a litter? I don’t know, but that is what I am calling it. Regardless, I am composting the dead ferns and transferring the nests into new plants so they don’t feel like the landlord just up and kicked them out. I don’t know if that is how this works I am not a bird specialist but that is how I am gonna approach itr.
Manhandling this:
And that handful of wildflower seeds I dropped in the front yard a few years ago:
I am pleased to report that my front porch is now at 100% occupancy. There are nests in both dead ferns, a nest in the live fern, a nest in the geraniums, a nest in the corner above the column, a nest in the petunias (which have only been there two weeks), and a nest in the actual bird house.
I’m going to need to hang more plants while we wait for the oak and maple tree to mature enough to be nestworthy.
This has been developing for a while now, but I didn’t want to tell you all since there is so much awful going on in the world, but I feel like I sort of have to so if something does happen, it will not come as a huge surprise out of the blue.
Rosie is not doing very well this year. Her hip degeneration has been worsening over the past few years, and for the past few months she has been really losing weight. I took her to the vets a while back for a battery of tests, and all her bloodwork was fine, so nothing showed up there. However, even though she is eating, she is losing weight, just not herself, and has been drinking a lot of water, and just slowly deteriorating. I’ve watched her fall down the stairs a couple times, and she just sits there afterwards with a sort of sheepish “god damnit” look on her face- the same way I felt when I fell through the deck the day I bought the house.
I’ve spoken with Harry, and he thinks she may have cancer, but there is not really anything we can and should do for it, because with her hip degeneration, any treatment might kill her, and she is too frail to really have surgeries to begin with. So we’re basically just keeping an eye on her, keeping her on her pain meds, and making sure she is still living her best life. I made her some scrambled eggs for lunch, and she is eating like a champ, so that is always good.
Again, there is nothing imminent, but I wanted to let you all know.
We had FOUR whole days where I could open the windows. FOUR.
It went from 45 to 65-70 to now FUCK YOU HOT.
This is bullshit.
Also, with all the sun coming into my house I am able to see all the filth I have been wallowing in for six months.
Lots of awful in the news, our President is still a fucking loser asshole sociopath, so I am not going to talk about any of it. I will talk about the very vivid dream I had last night.
I dreamt that I had a 90 year old tortoise who had been passed down through generations, and I was very attached to him. His name was Gary. At any rate, Gary developed some rare disease and his shell started to deteriorate into gel, and I had to have his upper shell removed to save his life. I then fashioned a temporary shell out of a very large copper mixing bowl that I found at the consignment store, and then had a friend fashion an elaborate permanent replacement shell with a 3d printer.
In other news, the wildflowers I planted in the front yard walkway bed three years ago are back with a vengeance:
If I lived in the country I would just plant fields of wildflowers.
*** Update ***
No sooner did I hit publish on this post when I turned around and found this majestic motherfucker:
I love him so much.