When I arrived in the US I desperately wanted a dog, I am a dog person you know, I feel that a house without a dog in it is just not a home. Initially my husband adopted a dog from his local mechanic who had found a pup at his shop, she was a brindle something, and she lived two days, falling victim to the parvo that she had when we found her. In my desolation at losing her my husband called the local animal rescue society and asked them if they had any boxers (I am a boxer person, was raised with them), they told him that they had some boxer cross puppies and we would be welcome to go and see them. We went to the home of the foster mom and looked at the litter, there was one puppy, a tiny black and white ball of fire who was worrying the life out of a stuffed toy, she was the one, I knew it the moment I saw her and we took her home that night, tucked inside the denim jacket that I was wearing that night. Slowly she was introduced to the cats that we already owned and she adapted and we had a happy family of one dog and three cats. She was named Sox, after the wolf two-sox in "Dances with Wolves" and she was the most precious dog that one could ever hope to share ones life with. We lived next door to neighbor's who, in their whim, would adopt dogs on a regular basis and promptly ignore them, such was Buddy, a English Springer Spaniel mix who was found, if the neighbor's are to be believed was found in a parking lot. One particular week the neighbor's went on vacation, or a trip, or something and left Buddy alone. As was my want I would talk to Buddy over the fence and make sure that he was okay. On one particular day I reached over the fence to scritch his ears and felt a mass of ticks on his ears.., masses and masses of them. I went back into the house and spoke to my husband and told him the problem, at which point my husband went outside, jumped the fence and came back with Buddy in his arms. We took a flea and tick killer spray and sprayed it on cotton buds and attempted to remove all of the ticks from Buddy. The next day we took him to the vets and got him chekced out. As Buddy sat on the table the ticks, gorged with blood, would fall from his body. The vet treated him, got rid of all the ticks, gave him all of his shots and sent him home with us. On the Monday when the neighbor's returned my husband told the neighbors, "Buddy was really sick so we took him to the vets, if you want him back you can pay the bill" As it turned out they never paid the bill (what a surprise) and Buddy stayed with us. Sox and Buddy became firm friends, not only because they lived together, but because they had been "friends through the fence" for so long. They were the most glorious and joyous dogs than any owner could ever hope to have. Buddy's favorite thing in the whole world was to "chase the squeaky thingy" and Sox's favorite thing in the whole world was to interfer with Buddy chasing the "squeaky thingy" One would throw the "squeaky thingy" for buddy and Sox would do everything in her power to interfer with Buddy retireiving it. It was such a game, that was enjoyed by all. One day I decided after a hard day of yard work, to take a nap, Sox, being the kind of dog she was, decided to join me. I lay down in bed and Sox lay down beside the bed. When I woke a couple of hours later I wandered into the living room and called Sox to follow me. She tried to get up, but her rear end was useless. We took her to the vets the next day and it turned out that she had ruptured a disc, she was paralyzed from the waist down. The vet recommended that we put her to sleep, but we turned down that offer. She was fine, so long as I could get a wheel chair made for her we would be fine. So I went to the webside for doggy wheelchairs and took her measurements. In the meantime I would take her outside to sit in the sun for the morning so that she knew she wasn't confined to the indoors. As it was Sox decided in in wisdom that she didn't want to live like that and one day I came home from work and found her on her blanket dead. I was devastated, and if only I had known it then, so was Buddy. I buried Sox that day, down in the forest where she so loved to sit. Buddy grieved, and grieved greatly, his best friend was gone and he was bereft. Within short order of her death Buddy began to slow down, he wasn't the dog he had been, and within 6 months he lay down one day and decided that he was going to die, and die he did. He was buried next to Sox, in their favorite part of the forest where now hosta and fern grow on their graves. Fast forward. After Sox died, in an attempt to assuage my grief my husband bought me a boxer puppy, she was red with a black mask and in honor of a boxer that raised me I named her Judy. I happened upon a puppy at the Salvation Army one day, a lab/someting cross who I named Sal(Salvation Army for short) Judy and Sal were best buds, there was no firmer friendship. Then one day Sal got out of the yard and was hit by a car, he is buried with Sox and Buddy down in the forest. Judy was bereft, her best friend was gone. So we decided that a new friend for Judy was in order so we got Cueball, a pure white boxer male. As you can imagine on being introduced to the puppy Judy was beside herself with glee, a new pal! As it turns out Cueball grew, and grew, and grew and grew. BUT (I am finally getting to the point of the story). This evening I was outside playing "squeaky thingy" with Cueball, who LOVES to chase his squeaky toys, and while I was doing that Judy was interfering, tormenting him, stealing the squeaky thingy.....I looked, as I look always, and I can see out there Sox and Buddy...., I am almost certain that Sox and Buddy sat up there in heaven and when the time was right, came down and inhabited the bodies of Judy and Cueball.... I have my babies home, they just look a little different that is all.

They have begun blooming right now, and it is a joy to my heart. They are such beautiful flowers and I never tire of looking at them or photographing them. My first experience in planting them was actually an accident or as a result of my relentless quest for a bargain. After Easter, you will no doubt notice, there are pots and pots of Easter lilies on sale for about $1.00 per pot. So as is my want, I felt sorry for the poor, neglected Easter lilies and bought several pots of them. As is the norm with my bargain buys, I had no idea where I was going to put them, but eventually I plunked them down in the flower bed in front of the living room window. The foliage died down and I thought nothing of them until the foliage grew back and they formed nice little crowns. The following year they sprouted right back up and bloomed beautifully, I was hooked. After Mother's day I noticed that there were lots of other lilies in pots that had passed their best and been reduced to $1.00 a pot, so the same routine ensued, plant the contents of the pot in a spot in the garden. Then in one of my regular trips to Lowes I noticed that their bags of summer bulbs, including lilies, had been reduced to 75% off, so my lily population grew, and each year since I have been buying bags of lilies and searching for places to plant them. This year when I was building my rose bed, I bought a small bag of lilies to place around my alien statue. As it turns out one of my cats decided that the MOST fun in the world, the MOST fun in the world, was digging up the lily bulbs and batting them around the flower bed, I think three out of the six survived and are now putting up leaves, how many will flower after that kind of abuse is anyone's guess. Still, my lily season has just begun and I can imagine that in the next couple of months my digital camera is going to be worn out taking photos of them. There is nothing like the anticipation of seeing a big, fat, lily bud, just waiting to burst open, it is like watching a volcano waiting to blow....



and thar she blows

So I drove down to Chadbourne for the annual "block party" also known as "Encounters." In normal circumstances it is held on a street in downtown Chadbourne, or as it was one year, in the yard of The Martin Mansion (I believe I have the name right). As it was as I drove down highway 74/76 I monitored the weather, as I set off the chance of thunderstorms was 40%, by the time I had passed through Burgaw the chance was 60%, by the time I hit 74/76 it was 80% and then my cellphone rang. It was my husband "go to the elementary school babe don't come here we are moving everything". As I arrived at the elementary school the heavens had opened and a full blown downpour was underway with fork lightning that would impress any photographer. As I was early I contemplated a dash from the car to the cafeteria in the driving rain, or a sit in the car listening to the radio until there was a break. I chose the latter. Once there was a break in the rain I ran into the cafeteria and was hit by a wave of humid air. I milled around and greeted those familiar to me and waited for the food to be served (I was hungry, no idea why as I usually do not eat in the evenings). After I got my food I wandered back into the cafeteria and found just about every seat either warmed by a bottom or reserved by a bag or a sweater (this is normally not the case when the event is held outside, you can always find a seat). I wandered back out. As the rain had stopped and the sun was coming out I decided to take myself and my meal outside and I found myself a perch on the colonade beside the cafeteria and watched as the local wildlife came back out from their shelter after the storm. The Robin was first, taking advantage of the worms that had been forced to the top of the grass in the deluge, he would hop along and then turn his head to watch as he spotted a juicy worm slithering to the top of the grass. Many folks believe that this turn of the head is listening, but no it is simply the Robin turning his eye to give him the best view of the subject. I watched as a female Red-Bellied woodpecker inched up a tree in search of an insect that she obviously heard burrowing in the bark, she would rap at the bark a few times and then place her ear close to the tree to fathom where the bug was moving. While she was on her bug hunt a squirrel, still soggy from the rain, set out in search of previously buried nuts. After a great deal of hop, sniff, hop, sniff, he found one, a pecan that was obviously buried in the fall. After digging it up he ran over the fence and up the tree, disturbing the red-bellied woodpecker as he did so, I am not sure if she ever got the bug she was looking for. In another part of the school yard a male grackle was attempting to impress a female by doing some sort of elaborate mating dance, which in some part, consisted of him doing the "Snoopy doing an impression of a vulture impression", as it was the female was not impressed and flew off, leaving the male to stab impatiently at the ground in disgust. Someone, obviously a nature-loving soul had placed a nesting box at the edge of the school-yard and it was occupied by a pair of eastern Blue Birds, who, if their very frequent comings and goings were any indication, had a clutch of babies to feed. Somewhere in the trees, at a place I could not discern, sat a Mockingbird, singing his heart out, for the norm with Mockingbirds for no apparent reason, other than that it had stopped raining, Mockingbirds are like that, they sing because it is raining, they sing because it is sunny, they sing because it is six oclock in the morning, they sing because it is a day with a "y" in it. As it was it was a joy to sit out there, in the damp, eating my dinner and listening to the birds. It was, as it turned out, far more delightful than sitting in the cafeteria listening to the incessant "tweep, tweep, tweep" of the "Sparkly crested beauty-queen birds" who, despite their colorful plumage, are a bit like a red-winged blackbirds to be honest, really annoying when they gather in large flocks. After I had finished my meal I stuffed my face with more strawberries than is really good for a person then wandered off to the gymnasium to listen to the Jazz Band perform. It was a glorious evening, and yes I know you are all wondering where my camera was during this entire thing, well truth be told it was in the back of my car, in its case, because I simply did not want to stand to go and get it and disturb the life going on around me. I figured it was more important for the Blue Bird to land at my feet and retrieve a worm to feed his babies than it was for me to take a picture of it, I figured it was more important for the Grackle to do his mating dance than it was for me to take a picture of it. Sometimes you just have to sit and watch, and not take photos.

While many of you would say that I should have been certified years ago, it is now official, my little acre is now offically "National Wildlife Federation Backyard Wildlife Habitat # 62298" Can you say how proud I am? And when you think about it, of all the backyards in the US only 68,298 are certified. Why is that not more. I studied my fennel this evening to see if any eggs have been laid yet but none so far, I don't think it will be long and I will have catterpillars. As an aside this rose bloomed today.... she is the result of feeding roses bananas...., for more of that ask me about feeding roses bananas....