First Cattail

Today, I sweat my formerly large body working in the garden. It is a fact, weeds grow faster then pretty flowers. I’m back to where I started six weeks ago, round two of weeding. The first plot was to transplant some pachysandra to a dead spot under my windows. The new plants are doing well, but in the past weeks the chick weed, purslane, wild strawberries, and thistle have grown up to hide the newly planted ground cover. So why do I want ground cover over a thick mass of weeds? Ground cover looks better when it is established. Thick masses of weeds look just like that, thick masses of weeds.

After the first hour, I took a rest to hydrate and cool down. I found myself staring at the beds and imagining how to make them better. I was thinking that the pond looks much better now that I thinned the cattails and the irises. Something looked different about the cattails. Yes, by God it flowered, I have a genuine cattail. Why am I so excited? Because this is the first time in ten years that this plant has flowered. I remember when I got the darn thing. I went on a pond-plant hunt out in the countryside. I stopped at ditches and dug lilies, and at another ditch I spotted the cattails and dug out a clump for my pond. Why pay for horticultural materials that grow wild in streams and lakes? I got my water lilies the same way. When I thinned the cattails this spring I was on the verge of gutting them completely, but to be honest I didn’t have the strength to yank them all out. I only got the easy ones. They must have gotten the message.

After five minutes of day dreaming about all the new work I conjured up it was time attack the weeds again. Tomorrow it’ll be a new bed that I haven’t touched yet this year.

I learned one thing from this exercise i.e. never, never, never give the garden a year off. Last year I made Peggy my excuse for not working the yard, and the native perennials established a strong hold that is killing me this year. If only I can find someone who will do the work to my satisfaction, I will gladly pay to have it done.

Cause For Celebration

As my body ages my goals change to things that do not involve physical effort. There was a time when I exercised not for health but for the challenge of pushing my body to the limits. Now, I tend to remain seated. Is sitting an exercise? For twenty years my single biggest physical activity has been gardening followed by bicycling. If I could be biking while working the garden I’d be supremely happy. I have mentioned this many times, my garden has a name, “The Monet Vision”. To make it interesting I’ve added the theme after the name because I try to make it different every year, like Monet Vision-Golden Glow. This year I’ve decided to name it Monet Vision-Retired. Each year the theme depicts a color scheme or a specific floral planting. Because I am in the process of downsizing and will be giving up the castle sometime soon, I thought it necessary to redesign the garden to eliminate some maintenance. The problem is that I don’t quite know how to do that. I do, but the perfect scheme would cause me great amounts of energy expenditure and a large cash outlay. There was a time when the cash outlay would have been the greatest deterrent, but today it is the energy, both physical and mental, that challenges me.

One focal highlight of the garden is a water feature which I call the pond.  The pond gave me a new dimensions of plant life to exploit and enjoy. Even Monet needed water to grow his infamous water lilies. Water in the garden breeds mosquitoes and the pesky creatures defy enjoyment. To ward off the blood sucking pests a new element is introduced to the pond, i.e. mosquito eating fish. Ponds requires the movement of water to be effective in keeping fish. Fish require oxygen and moving water via water falls, and rapids add the oxygen, as well as soft sounds and contemplative visual scenes to sooth the soul. Last January, the mechanism for creating this water movement, i.e.the pump, died, and so did my fish. When water reaches thirty-two degrees F it changes phase and turns into ice. The water below the ice is probably at thirty-three degrees. I have worked with my hands and arms up to my elbows in such water and can testify that it is not pleasant, nor smart to do so.

During the winter I contemplated the maintenance needed to restart the water flowing again. The dead pump allowed the stream that connects the water fall to the pond to dry up. This enabled me to get into the stream and to rip out the pond grass from either side of the water fall. It sounded easy, but in reality it took me three weeks of intense labor to cut the roots of the grass and to lever the system out of the river bed with a crow bar. All of this was done while in a crouch with my knees on a pad and my toes crunched up under my weight. At my age, getting up from this position requires considerable energy and time for my joints to relax back into their normal position. Anyway, I opened up the stream from the grasses that were choking the water and forcing it to overflow the banks. This backup caused me to lose a lot of water every day and water although plentiful does not come free where I live. By the time the grasses were gone, the remainder of the weeds in the garden took off like one of Elon Musk’s rockets to the Space Station. Another six weeks later I had completed a 360 degree tour of weeding and shrub trimming around the house. It was now time to install the pump, but I hadn’t bought it yet. I went into COVID-19 shock when I learned the cost to replace the pump from the original Japanese manufacturer had risen to five hundred and fifty dollars a full 25% more than previous. Another week of research on the internet and I finally hit the check out button on a replacement for less than three hundred dollars.  Take a guess where it is made, yep you guessed it, Taiwan, ROC (Republic of China). It will be hard to swear off buying from China when it affects the pocket book so drastically. If my plan works, this will be the last pond pump that I will buy in my lifetime.

By the time, the pump arrived, the stream bed which had been dry all spring was now full of weeds again. Another two hours on my knees with my toes crunched under were needed to clear the stream bed before I could wrestle the pump into place and hooked up. The final step was to plug it in and pray it worked, it did, and that is cause to celebrate!

IMG_0448
IMG_0449
IMG_0451
IMG_0450
IMG_0455
IMG_0454
IMG_0453
IMG_0452
IMG_0458
IMG_0457
IMG_0456
IMG_0460
IMG_0462
IMG_0461
IMG_0462-1
IMG_0461-1
IMG_0460-1
One of My Best

Farmer’s Market Covid Version

How does a person continue to write for a blog when his mind and heart are not in it any longer? After seventy some days without missing a single day of writing I became blocked. The past two days I spent as off days and enjoyed myself by walking and talking. I attended our newly opened Covid friendly farmer’s market and was pleased. The Village Father’s put some thought into it and I think they have succeeded in remaking it to close to where it was. The Frankfort Farmer’s Market had become the social event of the week. We had farmers from within a 110 mile radius selling fresh vegetables, fruit, flowers fresh baked bread, tacos, and what not. In addition there were booths selling slushies, lemonade, and other hand made drinks. My favorite was a Nun who drove in from Chicago with newly baked French pastries and breads. She and her fellow nuns are from France in Chicago on a mission living in a a converted old warehouse and doing charitable work among the indigents of the city. Another favorite is a lady who bakes pies. My favorite is her apple, cherry, or blueberry pies. She sends her husband to the market with a minivan loaded with pies. His instructions are not to return until the pies are all sold. He never takes any home and he leaves early.

Since the bouncer at the gate controlled the flow of people coming into the market area it was never crowded and lines at the booths were all very short. The line outside the market however, was very long. That is because the people were all spacing themselves six feet apart. The line never stopped. There were always people leaving to allow new people in.

On a normal Sunday, the market wraps around a building we call the Grainery. The booths are stacked next to each other closely to allow the most vendors into the least amount of space. In the Covid scheme the market was split into two areas, i.e. two parking lots across the street from each other. The second section was controlled the same way as the first, the bouncer lets you in and keeps the flow moving.

All in all, the market was the highlight of my day. I walked three and a half miles, and wound up carrying my slushie home before I could drink any of it.

Terror In the Night

Mohamad Ali Wabbit continues to harass the garden. My prized Sum and Substance is nearly gone to the ground. What will Mohamad do when it is? I will nurse the plant with fertilizer and pray that the root system is strong enough to regenerate new foliage. Where will Mohamad be while this process (six weeks) takes place. No doubt he will either hide again or move to another spot within the yard. While he hides, I will takes new measures to thwart his maneuvers to terrorize me and my flowers.

Last Vestige of Sum and Substance After Night Attack By Mohamad Ali-Wabbit

You may not be able to see it, but all around this formerly large plant are six smaller ones of a different Hosta species. All are eaten to the ground. I think this cell may be an arm of BLM (Bunny Lives Matter) a sub-group of Inter-Garden Epicurian Delights (IGED). All IGED are dedicated to the betterment of a minority class of denizen Oryctolagus cuniculus. They are ferociously attacking local gardens spreading the heresy of unequal rights, while enjoying satiating repasts of succulent young plantains. Does anyone care? No, all I get are comments that I’m a bunny hater who should be put away for violating the BLM movement. Meanwhile, locals are sending teary eyed pleas to George Szaros* to do something about gardener brutality.

In the meantime, I am on phone-hold with my domain host for forty-five minutes. It seems that my service is blocking content that I am sending to my family. I take offense to that. Why do I pay them an exorbitant fee to maintain my domain if only to be censored by them? I get no respect.

In the news, I was surprised to learn that Mad Dog Mattis has declared the President close to violating the Constitution with his remarks about sending Federal troops to bring peace back to rioting cities if their own governors cannot nor will not do so. The President has Constitutional authority to do what he has said. What Mad Dog failed to mention is that the particular act that allows the President to move in that direction has never been used for two hundred years, in other words, never. The fact remains that the Founder’s expected a day would come when insurrection would need federal control. The President is also accused of further dividing the country instead o reuniting it. It is my opinion that he is treating all groups the same. His proclamation to take action is giving the rioters the same process as would be given any other riotous group. He believes in law and order, and that we rule by law. The groups supporting these riots all want dispensation and approval for their actions. Trump’s actions apply the rules evenly. So what else can the rioters do but to proclaim racism, and unfair treatment?

I have no mercy for the rioters. They believe no one will listen to them unless they do damage and cause mayhem. I seem to recall that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. promoted peaceful protests. These are not peaceful protests. I really believe they are acts of insurrection against the federal government. At the very least they are acts of terrorism. The organizers must be found, apprehended, and given due process just to show them that they are equal to the rest of us.

With all the laws that have been passed over the past fifty years the balance has shifted in favor of people with color. Too many times smart kids are turned away from colleges while kids with lessor scholarship credentials are selected to go to the best schools (affirmative action for racial minorities). We have also lost our liberty when it comes to selling our homes. The equal rights act punishes us if we reject an offer from a black. It goes so far as to awarding the property to the rejected person and away from the rightful owner. Police have given up policing in neighborhoods that are too dangerous to enter. Why, because they don’t want to be held responsible for arresting someone who is guilty as sin for violating their civil rights. My hometown of Chicago is a prime example. I am not aware that stealing, looting, burning destroying property, and killing is a civil right that goes unprosecuted if you are a person of color.

When a liberal states that the president is guilty of of dividing the country he is saying that some races are more equal than others. If your great-great-great-great grandparents were slaves it gives you privileges. Meanwhile in some parts of the twenty-first century world slavery is still a practice and those enslaved are not rioting. The US is the only place in the world that has fought a war to stop slavery. It is also the only place where the liberal drive to make all people equal is turning into a civil war.

I’d sooner spend my time fighting Mohamad Ali Wabbit in my back yard.

  • George Szaros (translated: Szaros = shitty in Hungarian) not to be confused with George Soros who has the same reputation as George Szaros and who supports the human BLM with money to fuel riots, looting, burning, destroying property, and killing.

Wabbit Wars: Attack on Sum and Substance

The cell has been in deep sleep for the past three years. There was not a single thread of visibility during that time, and the gardener wondered what had happened. Had he finally succeeded in destroying them? The question circled through his mind all summer long as he continued to surveil the garden for signs of weird plant damage. Nothing, until this week. The gardener had transplanted some Hosta plants to revise his yearly scheme for the Monet Vision (his garden). He didn’t have a theme for 2020 but since he was about to sell his house and garden to move into a retirement community he thought it best make it a lower maintenance scene.

Instead of planting succulent annual flowers like petunias he would just rearrange the perennials which were over grown. The Wabbits love petunias and leave the perennials alone he thought. “I will kill two birds with one stone”, he said to himself, “lower maintenance and less expense of buying flashy annuals.” There will be less color, but if done properly the design and layout will compensate for the lack of color. Besides, I’ll add some annuals as a little splash of pizzazz.

Time passed after the transplant and the Gardener began to see some strange effects on the smaller Hosta plants. He noticed that they were weak in appearance, and by now they should have begun to flourish. Hmmnn, strange that these usually hardy plants look so feeble here in the new spot. Could it be they are getting too much sun? Another week passes and he sees the foliage on his miniature Hosta’s become even worse. “I may have to replant these he thought.”

What a Sum and Substance Hosta Should Look Like
What a Wabbit Terror Attack Does To A Healthy Sum and Substance

Then, this morning when the gardener raised the window shade overlooking the garden, he saw it. An invasion in progress. The Wabbit sat at the edge of his Sum and Substance with a giant bright green leave bobbing in his mouth as he chewed. Instinctively, the gardener snapped the lock on the sliding glass door to make a loud cracking noise. The Wabbit leaped, took one bound and disappeared. The Terror Cell is alive and exposed he thought.

Let the war begin. What devious means will I use to get him to leave the yard? He thought he had outwitted him by moving a plant they never touch, but to his surprise, the Rabbit decided it was just what he needed to please his palate.

There are two things I can do, thought the gardener. One, I can let the river run again. He had stopped the flow of water from the waterfall for stream-bed maintenance, and forcing the Wabbit to cross a water barrier will make it harder. Second a mesh of poultry-barrier across another entrance to this bed will also make it harder for him to invade.

There is one thing the gardener will not stand for in his yard, i.e terrorism by any intruder, be it an invasive species like thistle or dandelion, or rabbit. Garden terrorism is a costly detriment to the appearance of the Monet Vision, it must be stopped.

to be continued. . . .

KetoJENic Vibe

Keto Junkie 🥓🥑🍳 Health and Wellness based, Easy Recipes, and Keto Product Reviews

Quotes Database

Your Site Of Influential Quotes!

The Lockdown Chef

A cooking survival guide for those who don't know how

myserenewords

Seeking Solace in the Horizon of Life & Beyond.

MRS. T’S CORNER

https://www.tangietwoods

Parties & Events

events, fun

ESL Ventures

Teach ESL and Travel the World

Survival Garden

How to make it

Heart Felt

This platform is for the people who likes to talk straight from the heart🤩

Suzette B's Blog

Inspiration and spirituality **Award Free**

Bhutadarma

Nothing is impossible (at least that does not violate the laws of physics). When you can..violate the laws of physics!

I Know I Made You Smile

cartoons/humor/fiction/nonfiction

galesmind

Come take a journey through my mind

Nutsrok

The humor and humanity of storytelling.

Gamintraveler

Travel Couple and Digital Nomads on a World Travel

summershaffer

A topnotch WordPress.com site

blogsense-by-barb

at the Re-Birth of America!

The Honking Goose

something to honk about

THE WAKING GIANT

United States Second Amendment Pitbull

Caustic Synergy

United and alone in the world

Aspiring Conservative

Conservative blog with articles about today's politics!