To be honest, I haven’t seen a single wooly worm this fall. We haven’t had many lightening bugs, not a single butterfly or bee, and even very few ants. There aren’t many birds or squirrels, either. I don’t have to fill the feeders as often, and the peanuts last longer. To top it off, there’s not an acorn in sight.
It doesn’t make me happy. Actually, it’s pretty scary.
The Squire and I went out for breakfast after church this morning. IHOP has a special 55+ menu, and we always order the same thing – the Rise and Shine breakfast. This comes with hash browns, two eggs, fixed as you wish, either bacon or sausage, and bread.
I requested my eggs over easy, an English muffin, and turkey sausage. When the waitress turned to The Squire, he told her he’d have the same. As she turned to the kitchen, he stopped her. “Could I have my eggs scrambled? And I’d prefer bacon instead of sausage. And oh! Could I have whole wheat toast?”
After the bewildered waitress went back to place the order, I asked him what part of “I’ll have the same” was he talking about. “Different eggs, different meat selection, different bread choice. The only thing that you didn’t change was the hash browns!”
When our local grandson was five years old, he and I built a dollhouse together. I had one, which The Squire was often called upon to help with the wiring, his other grandparents had given his younger sister a house, I had made a beauty shop room box for his aunt, and then, to add insult to injury, my sister and I had kit bashed a Storybook cottage to make a church for our dad, who was an Episcopal priest.
Suddenly, every man, woman, and child in the family had a dollhouse but Matthew. After a quick consultation with his parents, I dragged out an old McKinley kit and set to work. The McKinley is only nine inches deep, so I added three inches to the back, but once that was done, we set to work together. Matthew has always had a good eye, and I took him to a dollhouse show to help select furnishings. He chose everything in the bedrooms himself.
Once he outgrew it, he passed in on to his sister, and then it went into the barn. After his son was born, he began to discuss having me refurbish it for the Little One. And it took me for-bloody-ever. It took so long I was really afraid Little One would outgrow it before I got in finished.
Matthew picked it up last Tuesday.
The house was a HUGE hit! The box beside Little One had all of the furniture and “stuff” in it. He took one look and remarked that “There’s a lot of stuff to set up in here, so don’t rush me.” I’d never considered putting the washer and dryer in the bedroom, but it is certainly convenient when it comes time to strip the beds.
The tower roof was lost sometime in the past, and I have to reconstruct it, but it doesn’t rain much indoors, so I doubt the upstairs bedroom will get wet. Don’t rush me.
It poured rain all day yesterday. Sheets of rain, and then it would rain ever HARDER. Golly absolutely refused to step foot off the carport, wandering listlessly from one side to the other. I couldn’t convince the poor puppy that it was actually raining on all three sides. He obviously had to “go”, as he was farting like a tea kettle, but he flat out would NOT step out into the yard.
The Squire opened the van and grabbed an umbrella, which I opened. Golly immediately leapt into the back of the van and refused to come out, not even with treats. I finally had to close the umbrella, just to get him out of the vehicle. I took hold of his leash, dragged him out into the yard, and raised the umbrella again.
The fool dog jumped up and grabbed the umbrella, trying to pull it down and destroy it! I’m five-six, and obviously had the umbrella above my head, so this was a pretty good leap.
We completed our perambulations without the bumbershoot.
This is Golly’s official portrait, taken just before we left the Humane Society. Probably the last time the dear critter sat nicely and smiled for the camera.
So far, he has pulled his run out of the tree, and totally destroyed not only four tennis balls, but managed to yank on his collar hard enough to break the clasp. And took down the clothesline in the process.
And then came inside and chewed up The Squire’s nook.
I was walking Golly around the pond last night and he tried to follow a frog into the water. Mud up to his knees! Where Blazer hated the water, Golly enjoys it.
The Squire went down and bought him a new collar this morning, and I got him another tug-of-war toy. It should come as no surprise that he totally destroyed the first one we bought him.
thisendoftheswamp 