Dad and Viola have taken to having discussions every Monday over coffee. Not Sunday, not Tuesday, they must, for some reason, always be on a Monday, early Monday. Mom comes downstairs at O’dark-thirty in the morning and there they are, deep in some random discussion.
” . . . but am I leaning on your arm or is your arm leaning into me? Is it my furs you feel on your arm? Or is it your arm fur, Dad? I’m not sure which I feel because I feel my furs all the time. What’s a couple more, even if they are Dad furs? It’s a mystery we can muddle through round and round without answer. Shh, here comes Mom.”
On another Monday morning, Mom came down to hear this discussion:
” . . . and Sunday, why do we need to get up on Sunday? Why do you turn the lights on when it’s dark outside and therefore, should be the hint it should be dark inside too? Is it because Mom has to get up? Couldn’t you just let her get up and keep the lights off? Think of the extra sleep we’d get! We should ask her some other Sunday.”
Viola, Mom is most definitely not happy getting up at that ridiculous hour to go to work on a Sunday. But if you want to keep having Monday discussions with Dad while having electricity for lights that you can complain about, someone has to make the living you’ve become accustomed to enjoying.
(Mom and Dad work different schedules from one another, leaving someone home every Monday to have deep discussions with Viola because, clearly, that’s important.)
Flowers are pushing their last big show of blooms right now before cold nights set in and our fall and winter rains return. Our Salvia pot is still going strong and Mr. Hummer is very happy about that. We see him almost every day right outside the kitchen window.
And we see this youngster almost daily patiently waiting his turn at the Salvia flowers. Okay, we can’t fool you. Hummingbirds are not patient when it comes to flowers. These two squeak and dive each other in territorial fights over the Salvia bush throughout the day. It’s like a high risk game of darts, with wings.
We’re sure the hummingbird antics have been wildly entertaining for the old garden bunnies. These two have enjoyed 20 years of gardening with us. We put them out in late spring and bring them in mid-fall. This is the first year the raccoons haven’t knocked them over and rolled them under some plant. Must have been their steely gaze that kept those raccoons away.
Or maybe neighborhood visitor Zerbe kept guard over the bunnies, telling those raccoons to go bother someone else. Sure he did. Just look at his steely gaze.
Apparently, the squirrels liked our tall sunflowers the best because just two days after the flowers opened, squads of squirrels raided the bunch and chewed off every one. And tore down the cosmos. We’re certain they’re all very proud of themselves. We’ve also certain we won’t grow sunflowers again, not because of the squirrel raids but the plants took a lot of water and were somewhat fussy to get to grow straight and tall. Our planting location isn’t the best but it’s all we have to offer.
A neighbor’s honeysuckle sure did like the extra support and we sure liked the flowers. This is a 3 year old vine the neighbor thought had died last year. The first year, it didn’t have a single flower. We know it’ll drape over the 6 foot tall fence and we don’t think we’ll mind one bit. Mom’s a master at pruning. We can hardly wait for next year’s hummingbirds to find it!
We’re probably not going to grow any more Cosmos either. They’re hard to start here and the raccoons stomped most of the seedlings into the mud, that is, the ones the squirrels didn’t tear down. We ended up with 2 plants from seed that made it out of about a dozen. Pretty, but not worth the constant unrooting and replanting.
Transplanted last fall, the Cardinal flower did “okay” but didn’t put on the show we’re used to seeing. It had grown much bigger than expected and we divided and kept a quarter of the big plant (gave away the others). Maybe it’ll do better next year.
Mom’s been trying to gather all the sedum Autumn Joy’s together to plant in the same area (for once) and after digging up and transplanting a bunch, look what she found in an unusual place in the side yard. A wee teensy one of the same, and blooming as well! It was gently transplanted alongside the others and we bet it’s happy being with its family.
We’re convinced that it was only because September and early October wasn’t full of 90 plus degree days that the crepe myrtle flowers didn’t crisp up much sooner. These started putting on buds back in August, much sooner than in previous years, and we thought we’d be lucky to see a week’s worth of color. Nope, they knew what was coming. It’s only now that we’re trimming back spent flower stems. Sometimes, we gardeners know nothing.
Speaking of knowing nothing, we know nothing about this grasshopper. First off, we generally don’t get grasshoppers this big here. This one was about 3 inches long. Our grasshoppers are very, very small and green. Second, if you hadn’t noticed, it’s red. Like, really red. Mom looked it up online and apparently, this happens sometimes. And sometimes, science-y people pay money for red grasshoppers. Before we could have a discussion with this grasshopper about his financial future, he hopped elsewhere where, undoubtedly, no one sticks a camera in its face and starts taking pictures.
One thing’s for certain: If you hang around our place, you’ll always find someone with a camera taking photos. The new neighborhood cat Mom calls Tuxie Boy comes around every morning at 7:15. He’s very vocal when we go out the side door to put food in the feeding station for that day’s visitors. But he won’t come near. Mom’s gotten a hiss or two from him and is convinced she’ll get a finger sniff and be allowed to pet him before long. Dad’s not so certain.
Sitting in our backyard filled with old garden soil that’s never watered, large rocks and fake flowers, out of the blue sprouted an apricot salvia that we did not plant and some tall, long leaf thing we know nothing about. Maybe the squirrels donated something in return for all those sunflower flowers? Hmm.
Visiting neighbor cat KeeKee (formerly known as Mr. MewMew) probably knows all about that mystery garden plant. If he does, he’s not saying until he gets his morning chicken catnip treat. And even after that, he’s not saying a word. Unlike meowing Tuxy Boy, we’ve never hear KeeKee utter a sound let alone share garden information.
Within a month, the garden will be put to bed along with the patio furniture, garden pots and wind chimes. The two feral warming shelters have been cleaned out and are filled with fresh straw for cold weather visitors. We know of at least one neighborhood cat who spends her winters in one, and we know the oldest raccoon, Bea, often spends time in Geoffrey’s house (an unheated outdoor shelter), that’s also filled with fresh straw. We’re almost ready for cold weather. How are you doing?
