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It’s May and while we still had a lot of rain earlier in the month, a couple of near-hot weekends have poked flowers into making their appearance at last.
The blooms on the Star Magnolia are winding down. We continue to be amazed at how pretty (and messy) this tree has turned out when we thought we were going to lose it. We planted it in a poor spot, not knowing what it could become. Once we removed those borer-infected and diseased birch trees (that we still love and miss), the Star Magnolia tree took off.
Dad’s red tulips are back up. His favorite tulips are called Temple of Beauty and are the lighter red-orange of this bunch, but because the bulbs here are old, most of them have run their course and no longer come up. A couple of years ago, Mom added a few inexpensive red Darwin-type bulbs when she was unable to find more Temple of Beauty and all seem to get along great together.
We were certain we had lost our Basket of Gold last year when we had unusually hot, we’re-living-on-the-sun-now weather. Mom shrugged, pulled the entire crisped thing out, and closed that chapter in our gardening life. Ha! It seeded itself and looks better than original!
After a bit of hot-weather burn-back and some trimming, the sprawling Kinnikinick is blooming well. Mom has a fascination with this plant for some reason. She can’t really explain it other than it fits where it grows and she likes that it’s evergreen.
Shaggy seems to be the designated visiting mama raccoon again this year. She’s three years old now and this may be her last breeding year. Like last year, she’ll probably take on the roll of auntie raccoon for someone else’s kits while raising her own and we can only hope that while she’ll introduce the next generation to this safe sanctuary area, she won’t let them get away with the same destructive behavior last year’s batch were hell-bent to cause. Mom will have a talk with Shaggy soon and maybe that’ll help.
Neighborhood visitor Colby comes by twice a day now, alternating between feeling safe and secure one minute versus taking off like his tail was on fire at the sound of our voices the next. Mom really wants to brush him, even though he doesn’t seem matted anywhere at all. He looks like a big boy but under his fur, he feels like an average-sized cat. No clue as to his age or where his home is yet, but we’re working on it.
We continue to be okay. We’re working on getting house-related things worked on while socking away a few dollars here and there for savings and future vet bills. Dad got a forty-two cent raise and Mom changed job positions, went through a vigorous training period, and is back on her regular shift. A BIG THANK YOU goes out to a special Friend of Colehaus who thinks of us often and helped pay for Pia’s recent, outstanding vet visit. And THANK YOU for everyone who provided tips toward getting Pia to transition over to wet food at last!
If living with lots of cats and needing to do home repairs have taught us anything, it’s to find opportunities for improvement everywhere you can.
Due to a certain bathroom repair we faced last year, the cats had to give up their cat den for several months and that meant their cat feeders had to go elsewhere temporarily. We had the space for four, but not for five in another room. Technically, we had space for only three but two kitties decided to put aside their differences and things worked out well. Those two kitties were NOT Tessa and Viola. Applause to you, Pia and Quint.
We squeezed Tessa’s bowl in with the others but Viola’s ended up downstairs on the kitchen counter of all places. Viola already spend most of her time downstairs, even overnight, keeping watch on all things that happen overnight in the most boring overnight house ever where nothing happens.
A few months went by and the cats got their cat den back and somehow, we decided Viola’s feeder was “okay” to keep up on the kitchen counter. What were we thinking?? Mom was determined to find a good opportunity to move Viola and her feeder back up in the cat den and off the kitchen counter where no cat food feeder should ever reside.
Two weeks ago, the drywallers set up a couple of noisy fans downstairs to dry the drywall mud and it took a day and a half before Dad noticed Viola wasn’t eating. Her feeder on the kitchen counter was about six feet away from those noisy fans, and though Viola is a very, very brave girl. the noise and blowing air were too much to handle.
Spotting the opportunity, Mom jumped all over that and brought Viola’s feeder back upstairs to the cat den. It took Viola less than three minutes to find it and dig into eating.
Now, if we could just convince Tessa to stop guarding Viola’s feeder, all would be swell. Just swell.
