Invasion!

 

          We’re going to start this week a little differently.

          “How so?” you ask.

          This week, instead of starting with the title story, we’re gonna start with a wildflower picture.

          “Okay... Why?” I know you’re curious.

          We’re starting this week with a wildflower photo because when I post the link on Facebook, my lead photo shows up and I don’t want it to be my invasion photo.

          “How do you have a photo of ‘invasion’?”

          We know two people who have recently been “invaded” by the surgeon’s scalpel and both of them gave me permission to show you their battle scars.

          Now, if you’re squeamish, consider this your warning to do a fast scroll past the lead story.

          Life’s messy.

We butchered chickens one year when I was growing up. Is that the reason my older brother would never eat chicken? I often wonder.

We’ve butchered deer.

And honestly, you can’t change baby diapers, clean up the hairballs the cat leaves behind —

Oh cats! They’re the source of so many wonderful and nose-pinching events! Uneaten bits of critters they leave on the rug, an indigestible glob of mouse hair they kindly puked up for you. Or a bird they caught and only ate the head! Eww! Cats! And let’s not forget to mention litter boxes here.

Or the sad and unpleasant job of picking your ‘tired’ cats up off the road.

How about wiping the dog’s butt, or walking into the bathroom after someone has had an especially heroic, and odiferous, elimination — you can’t do all that stuff and still be squeamish!

          Our handsome neighbor, Lamar Kipp, had heart valve replacement surgery and is now home from the hospital.

          “Does it hurt?” I asked. I had heard that he wasn’t experiencing any pain and I just can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

          “Nope. No pain at all. It baffles the doctors,” Lamar said.

          It baffles all of us, too, Lamar!

          “Can I show your scar?” I asked.

          “Yep.”

          He sat back, opened his shirt, and flashed a victory smile.

          The other person who tangled with the surgeon’s knife is my handsome Irish twin, David. He’s not technically my Irish twin, but he decided to repeat first grade to wait for me. We went through school together and everyone thought we were twins. David and I are 14 months apart in age, whereas Kat’s daughters Jessica and Rachel are only 9 months apart, so they’re true Irish twins.

          “Lamar is letting me show his big ol' honkin' incision in my blog this week,” I told David. “Can I show yours, too? I can title this week SCARS! or CUTS! or OPERATIONS! No. Not operations. Let me know!”

“You can show mine. How about Invasion for a title?”

“I love that! It truly is an invasion, isn’t it.”

“It sure feels like one,” David said.

“What did your brother have done?” you ask.

David had back surgery.

          “The doctor opened up the hole in my vertebrae and shaved the bulging disc,” he told us in our morning love note where he shared this picture.

          “Wait. What? He opened the vertebrae?” I asked David. I needed clarification!

          “Yep. In a nutshell, he enlarged the spinal canal and shaved the bulging disk that was pressing on the sciatic nerve. They didn’t put anything in.”

          I didn’t know they did that.

          Unlike Lamar, David is in pain. Once he heals from the surgery, we’re hoping his debilitating back pain will be resolved as well.

          “Speaking of backs, how’s Bondi?” you ask.

          You beat me to it! I’m usually the one saying, “Speaking of”!

          Bondi had another laser treatment and in this picture we’re heading off to the vet’s office. Have you ever seen a sadder face?!

          I’ve been doing range-of-motion exercises with her and I think I see a tiny bit of improvement. Instead of dragging her legs behind her, she’s actually used her knees a couple of times. She’s trying.

          Her doggie wheelchair will be here Monday.

          Let’s go to the kitchen next, shall we?

          Mike and I don’t eat a lot of hamburger and a pound will last us a couple of meals. We were running low on our freezer stock so we bought a ten-pound roll. The outside of the package has one-pound marks on it. The first one and the last one are not a full pound, but I thought if I cut it on the marks the first and last one together would give me a pound.

          Confident in Walmart’s marking abilities, I cut on the marks. I ended up with eight one-pounds and two partials. Added together that gives me nine pounds of hamburger.

          How does that happen? I wondered. I counted the lines. There are ten lines, but as I’ve said, the first and last are not full pounds.

          Don’t fall for it! Don’t trust the marks!

          I got my kitchen scale out and some of those “pounds” were nineteen ounces. I did get my ten pounds of hamburger, it just wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be.

          How about a little kitchen tip?

          You may already know this but if you don’t, let me tell you.

          After you put the hamburger in the freezer bag, flatten it out. It stacks better in the freezer and doesn’t take nearly as long to thaw out.

          I remember when my beautiful little sister Phyllis had a wound that was healing. She’s on the left in the photo with our oldest and much-adored sister Patti. Phyllis was having a problem getting protein in her diet because she just wasn’t eating very much.

          “Why is that important?” I asked.

          “Protein is one of the main building blocks your body uses to repair wounds — without enough of it, healing slows down,” she explained.

          I know, right! Sometimes it’s the obvious stuff that escapes me.

          Phyllis found a yogurt she really liked that was high protein and she shared the information with me.

          Do you know what else is high protein?

          Eggs!

          I found a recipe for high-protein pudding that uses six hard-boiled eggs, 3/4 cup whole milk, 1/3 cup sugar, 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, and 1 teaspoon vanilla. I make it with Stevia for Mike to have a no-sugar dessert and he likes the flavor of the cocoa.

          “I should make it for Lamar,” I told Mike and that’s just what I did. The recipe makes just a bit over two cups of pudding so I doubled it and got five one-cup servings.

          “Are you gonna get tired of it?” I asked Lamar.

          “Nope.”

          “What other flavor would you like if you do?”

          “Butterscotch,” he answered without hesitation.

          When I got home I asked Copilot, my artificial intelligence helper, to find me a version of this pudding in butterscotch.

          Seconds later a recipe appears on my screen.

          I wanted to go to the website and check out the other flavors listed in the answer Copilot gave me, but I couldn’t find it.

          “It didn’t come from a website,” Copilot said. “I made that recipe for you. It’s not anywhere on the web.”

          How cool is that!?

          “What if I want to make a graham cracker crust for my pudding?” I asked. I was thinking it would be something like those pudding pies Momma made us for dessert after Sunday dinners sometimes. Make the pudding a little thicker than the package directions and pour it into a graham cracker shell.

          “You can absolutely do that,” he — it said. “And it’ll be delicious.”

          I followed the instructions and had soooo many problems! You wouldn’t believe!

          “What kind of problems?” you ask.

          First off, I was to make a butterscotch base using butter and brown sugar. “Stir over medium heat until it becomes glossy, 1-2 minutes.”

          I kept at it a good five minutes and all matte, no gloss.

          “Your heat isn’t high enough to melt the brown sugar,” Copilot said.

          I boosted the heat and it worked. I set it aside to cool a little before adding it to my egg, milk, and vanilla mixture I already had done.

          “It set up!” I complained. “It’s hard as a rock!”

          “You cooked it too long. Just re-melt it with a little water,” it advised.

          I did that and after it cooled a little, I used my hand mixer and mixed it with the pudding base. It sorta worked. Most of the butterscotch mixed in but there were a few hard nuggets on the bottom. I strained ‘em out and ate them. They were butterscotchy and crunchy.

          “It’s pretty thin,” I went back to the computer chat I was having with AI. “I don’t think it’ll set up.”

          “With all those eggs in there, it’ll set up after a few hours in the refrigerator. Even overnight can make a big difference.”

          I trusted. But AI can only work with the information I give it.

          The next morning I checked. It was still soupy.

          “You can add butterscotch chips,” Copilot said. “That’ll boost the flavor and help to thicken it.”

          It did boost the flavor but it was still more like a drink than a pudding. I wonder if it’ll freeze into ice cream, I did indeed wonder that.

          “You can cook it,” Copilot said.

          “My eggs are already cooked.”

          “It should still work.”

          I tried that but it didn’t work. It wasn’t thickening at all and I saw a burn flake come off the bottom, despite my constant stirring. I didn’t want to burn it any more so I took it off the heat. Maybe I just had it too high and it would’ve worked if I’d’ve lowered the heat and kept at it, I don’t know. But I remembered when my kids were little and I would make them different flavors of pudding using cornstarch.

          “Cornstarch is absolutely your easiest, most reliable rescue right now,” it said.

          Yeah. Why didn’t you suggest it in the first place? I wondered but didn’t bother asking. You can’t hurt AI’s feelings, even if you get snarky on it.

          I finally had a pudding-like pudding. I put it together in single serving cups with graham cracker base and sprinkle on top to look pretty.

          I’ve been making the pudding in my blender. It’s a pain in the patootie to scrape the pudding out from around the blades in the bottom of the blender jar. This time I decided to make it in my food processor.

          Mike came out and got a cup. “What did you do to this?” he asked after a bite. “It’s like... really grainy — and it tastes different! I don’t even want to eat it.”

          “The graininess is because you used the food processor,” AI said. “But you can save it by putting it in the blender and blending again.”

          It was worth a shot and if it didn’t work I’d throw it away then. But it did work! I really was surprised.

          “It’s a little different,” was Mike’s verdict, “but I can eat it. Next time do it like you did the first time.”

          Duly noted.

          If Mike’s was grainy that meant Lamar’s was too since I used the food processor to make his butterscotch.

          Even though the butterscotch had a graham cracker base, I dumped the whole thing in the blender and gave them a whirl.

          With the graham cracker crumbs in there, it was still grainy.

Don’t you even laugh!

          Maybe I should’ve known but I always have to try! I should’ve saved myself the hassle and cleanup and just left it like it was.

          Live and learn.

          I took a cup down to Lamar.

          “If you don’t like it, it’s okay.”

          He took a bite and his eyes lit up. It did have an intense butterscotch flavor. “Bring the rest of them!”

          “Next time I make it, it’ll be better,” I told him.

          “There’s nothing wrong with it this time,” he said.

          I guess the texture didn’t bother him.

          This pudding can be frozen and thaws beautifully! I know, I tried.

 

          Pudding wasn’t the only thing I messed up this week.

          “What did you do now?” you ask?

          In my practice book, I outline my watercolors. I could practice my outlining skills and use a liner brush and black paint. I’ve done that. But for my practice book I wanted something easier and faster.

I’ve tried all kinds of pens, regular ballpoint pens, cheap acrylic liner pens from Temu, Micron, Signo from Uni-ball, and my latest purchase of Grabie acrylic markers. The tips always clog.

I decided to get out my ink and dip pen. It sorta worked. The ink spread on these old pages, but not too bad, and it still clogged.

Suddenly, a big blob appeared on my page! And I was almost done, too!

          Aye-yi-yi!

          “Just turn it into another bee,” my best old friend said. I always show Trish my art ahead of my letter blog.

          “That is such a great idea!”

          Will I do that?

          I don’t know. Maybe. I might just turn the page. It’s my practice book after all.

          I also painted this little cutie patootie.

          “OH MYLANTA!! She's so adorable! Reminds me of my granddaughter when she was little!” Trish said.

          I’ll tear it out of my book and send it to her.

          Lastly, I painted this guy.

          “He looks angry,” she said.

          “Just like Mike looked when he saw I painted a snake.” He wasn’t really angry but he doesn’t like snakes.

          “You should name him Mike.”

          So here you have Mike.

          The only pictures left in my file of this week’s photos are road pictures and wildflower photos.

The leaves of the Teasel wrap around the stem and make these little cups that catch rainwater.

“Is there a reason for it?” you ask.

I’m so glad you asked! There is! And it’s very interesting, too! The water-filled cups make it harder for ants and other nectar thieves to climb the stem and reach the flowers. This protects the plant’s nectar from insects that would take it without pollinating. Rainwater gathers dust, pollen, and even tiny dead insects. As these decay, they create a nutrient-rich “broth” the plant can absorb through leaf pores. This helps teasel survive in poor, dry soil. A 2024 study found that teasels given extra dead insects produced 30% more seed weight. 

 

A burn-off at a gas well site. I was snapping pictures as we drove down the highway at 55 or 60 miles an hour.

I thought this was a squirrel sitting on the fence in the back of the yard so I grabbed my camera. A squirrel here would be an oddity. The dogs would kill any that ventured into the yard if they caught it.

Once I saw what it actually was, I remembered the gnarly old root Mike brought home for me and propped up against the fence.

          This is a squirrel, as I’m sure you know. I just don’t see many of them.

A Kingfisher on his usual log in our creek.

          Black-eyed Susan’s. 

          After a rain.

Bittersweet.

Vervain.

          A Hummingbird Moth and Pickerelweed in my pond.

     

          Heal-all’s one of those wildflowers that can be found just about everywhere. Roadsides, yards, fields. It goes by a whole handful of names: Self‑heal, Woundwort, Heart‑of‑the‑Earth, Carpenter’s Herb, and even Blue Curls in some places.

In folk medicine, people used it for cuts, scrapes, sore throats, fevers, mouth ulcers, and stomach troubles. The leaves were made into poultices for wounds, brewed into teas, and even chewed fresh for toothaches. Medieval herbalists swore it could “restore the body to wholeness,” which is probably how it earned that confident name. Modern studies say it does have anti‑inflammatory and antimicrobial properties, so the old‑timers weren’t completely off the mark.

          I have a little room left so I’m going to reach back and talk about something I’ve mentioned before.

          I read a schoolbook from the Childhood of Famous Americans series. I only have the one book and it’s about Frances Willard. The story itself was okay, I’ve read books with worse storytelling, but what it did was make me want to find out more about this gal.

          This lady had some amazing accomplishments for a woman of her era. She was born in 1839 and died in 1898. She was a teacher first, then the first dean of women at Northwestern University, president of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, and she used that platform to help women get a vote. She believed women needed a vote to protect their families, their homes, and themselves from the damage caused by alcohol. She also championed labor rights, prison reform, and education. She also helped raise the age of consent in many states.

          Francis never married, although she turned down several proposals. She grew up in a time when marriage meant giving up almost everything — your job, your independence, your ability to travel, even control over your own money. She watched other women lose their freedom the moment they said “I do,” and she wanted no part of that!

          She did have a “Boston marriage” with Anna Adams Gordon. That’s a term meaning a committed partnership between two women. Men, however, were not given such a tidy little title like that. They might be called a bachelor household, bachelor companions, or even just roommates.

Anna was Francis’s secretary, companion, and chosen heir. They lived together, traveled together, worked together, and cared for each other for decades.

          I’m going to guess that not many of you ever heard about this woman. I never did, at least not that I remember. School was a very long time ago. 

          Let’s call this one done!

          Done!

IVDD

 

          Bondi has IVDD.

          “What’s that?” I know you wanna know.

          IVDD is Intervertebral Disc Disease.

          We knew something was going on about a week before we took her to the vet and in hindsight, we should’ve taken her sooner, but we didn’t know.

          IVDD is common in long back dogs. It’s a spine problem where the cushioning discs between a dog’s vertebrae get damaged and press on the spinal cord. This can cause pain, trouble walking, or, in severe cases, paralysis. It’s most common in long‑backed breeds like dachshunds, but any dog can develop it.

          Bondi would squeak sometimes when you touched her just right. And by squeak I mean a yip of pain. I did plan to take her to the vet but it was the weekend. Sunday, Bondi went outside, to the very back of the yard, and laid in the grass. And there she stayed. All by herself. It wasn’t normal. Monday morning, when I could call the vet, Bondi’s left rear foot was knuckling under. Luckily, the vet could see us in the early afternoon. By that time she was dragging the whole leg.

           I knew it was something with her spine. It had to be. “What do you want to do?” I asked my handsome mountain man.

          “What do you mean?”

          “If she has to have surgery it’s between six and ten thousand dollars. You wanna do that or have her put down?”

          It’s a cruel world where you have to choose between those two options.

          “I don’t wanna spend that much money,” Mike said.

          I hear him. He doesn’t want to spend that amount of money and he doesn’t want to have her put down. An untenable situation.

          “It’s not just the surgery, which we’ll probably have to go to Cornell for that, but it’s also the recovery time and follow up visits.”

          I’ve been to Cornell University Hospital for Animals with my beautiful Jody. She had to take her German Short Hair there for treatment and it took hours to get there!

          “How long does it take to get there,” I wondered, and opened a website called Distance Between Cities.

          “There are 55 miles from Wyalusing to Ithaca,” it says. “We could not find a driving route between the two locations.”

          Basically, you can’t get there from here.

          I asked Copilot. “Most people can make the drive in a little over 2 hours,” and gave me driving directions.

          “It’s a lot of back roads,” Jody said when I asked her. “I can make it in... probably an hour and half.”

          “We might have to decide before we see the vet,” I told Mike. If we weren’t going for the surgery, Dr. Lori would want to do the euthanasia sooner rather than later. She doesn’t like to do them but she also doesn’t like to see an animal suffer. She’s a good vet.

          “We’ll have to put her down,” Mike said with sadness in his eyes and his voice. “How do you feel about it?”

          “Same.”

          Dr. Lori examined Bondi and believes she’ll recover with medicine, time, and therapy. She’s seen lots of these cases. We’re both relieved.

          Bondi hasn’t seemed to mind being in her kennel for most of the day.

          “Why don’t we put her on the table to make it easier for you to get her in and out,” Mike said.

          What a great idea! It has made it easier for me, and probably more comfortable for Bondi, too. I can support her back as I pick her up and she can see a lot more.

          Something else Dr. Lori recommended was laser therapy. “It can help reduce pain and inflammation, help her muscles relax, speed up recovery, and be more comfortable during crate rest,” she said.

We can’t afford surgery but we would do what we could. We wanted to give her the best chance at recovery so we agreed to six sessions.

“We’ll do twice a week for the first two weeks, then once a week after that,” she said.

We tried to leave Bondi in the kennel during the night but she is so unhappy. You know what that means, don’cha? It means I don’t get any sleep.

I asked Dr. Lori specifically about Bondi sleeping with us. “As long as she doesn’t jump off the bed.”

The only way we can assure that is to restrain her. I secured a leash to the bed and the other end to Bondi. She can get under the covers but isn’t able to reach our feet, like she’s used to, but even then, after a while, she’d get too warm, creep to the top and sleep between our pillows for the rest of the night anyway. Now she has to stay at the top of the bed, but at least she’s with us and happy.

The first night she was restless and couldn’t settle very well. After a couple of nights, she adjusted to being tied and is doing better.

 

Knapp Weed is blooming.

So is Chicory.

Rough-fruited Cinquefoil.

          Yellow Loosestrife.

          Antlers are blooming, too!

          This guy was in our yard.

          So was this one.

          And this guy was in our yard. You may notice he’s got a couple of hitchhikers.

          “They look like leeches,” you say.

          Yes, they do, and they are. Turtles are used to dealing with pond leeches and won’t be any worse for wear when they jump off — not that I think leeches jump (at least I hope they don’t! That would be scary.)

          We were on the golf cart, cruising our back roads when I got some of those photos. Here’s a few more from that ride-about.

          Wonder what he’s making.

          One of the reasons I wanted to go on this ride was to check the road-kill deer. When the skull is picked clean, I intend to bring it home. One of these days I’ll paint my collection of skulls, some I’ve had for years!

          You can’t get in a hurry about this stuff, don’cha know.

Sitting on the dead deer was a Baltimore Checkerspot.

          Who knew?

          “Knew what?” you ask.

          Butterflies feed on sap, rotting fruit, poop, minerals from the soil, and dead animals!

          Speaking poop...

          I was picking it up from the dog run when this humbee came to check it out. It’s the first Hummingbird Moth I’ve seen this year — and he was interested in poop!

          But back to skulls...

          Here’s two sitting on the back of a truck! I’m jelly!

          A Great Blue Heron.

          “What is that?” I wondered aloud, spotting something white with turquoise edges.

          Mike backed the cart up, I got off and kicked it. Can you guess what it is? 

          Mike is a good husband. He was thinking of me when he offered to make a section of the dog run fence open up so he could bring the zero-turn mower in and mow the dog run for me.

          “I can mow it,” I told him last year.

          This year, I’m happy to let him do it. It takes him ten minutes — maybe. It takes me about half an hour to mow it.

          “You can trim it up with the push mower,” Mike said.

          You know he loves me to do this for me because he doesn’t like to mow around stuff, and I have stuff!

          He does such a good job that I didn’t feel the need to get the push mower out — until after the third time he mowed it.

          “When you get the mower out, will you  get that little section outside the dog run that I can’t get with my mower?” he casually asked.

          Since he does my mowing for me, I decided to get the mower out and mow that little section for him.

          I had to laugh, when I went to get the mower. There’s a vine I let grow on the mower corral and it’s decided to claim my mower, since I wasn’t using it.

      

          “What is it?” you wanna know.

          I thought it might be Burr Cucumber but I haven’t seen any burr cucumbers on it. AI says it’s wild grape, but I don’t think it is.

          Going across the Rainbow Bridge into Wyalusing I noticed wires obstructing my view of the Susquehanna. It appears the supports holding the wires got tired of holding the tree up, too!

          “What have you been painting this week?”

          I’m so glad you asked!

          One of our friends became the grandmother of a baby with developmental disabilities.

          I think that’s the kindest, most respectful way to say it, but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.

          I made her a card but rather than transfer the image I printed it on a 5x7 piece of watercolor paper. My watercolors interacted with the printer ink and it came out awful.

          I scrapped that idea and printed it instead.

          And man! Was printing a bi-fold card a challenge!

          I fooled with it for more than an hour before I figured out what I was doing wrong.

          “Didn’t you ask Copilot, your AI buddy?” you ask.

          As a matter of fact, I did. And even though it was giving me the correct procedure to print a bi-fold card, I was adding an extra step that was messing it up.

          “What were you doing?” I know you wanna know in case you’re ever faced with the same problem.

          Instead of just selecting the size in the layout window, I was also selecting landscape. That was the wrong thing to do. There isn’t any need to select landscape and if you do, you get this.

          I laugh a little and shake my head. I’ve had this problem since before Halloween last year.

          At any rate, I’m glad I finally figured out the error of my ways and I truly hope the card brings her comfort. People hear things in their own way, especially when their hearts are tender. But I wrote this with love and the hope of easing a burden.

 

          My handsome brother-in-law sent me a picture of Bentley framed. A good frame can make all the difference in the world, don’cha think?

          Speaking of my paintings...

          The gals at the vet office have been encouraging me to make a poster and hang it on the board there.

          “A lot of people would get them,” one of the gals said.

          Here’s the thing. I don’t want a job. I’ve been staying fairly busy already with the commissions I’ve had.

          “If you don’t want a lot just price it high,” someone told me.

          I was still hesitant about doing it. Then I thought I’d price it for what I’m willing to do it for, then tack on extra bucks and donate that to the local shelters and rescues. If I get too many commissions, I’ll raise the price.

          Ruger went to his home this week. I took him to the hospital where Lori and her daughter work. Lori got teary-eyed when she saw it. She commissioned it for her daughter and her daughter couldn’t stop thanking me. They thought I’d captured Ruger well.

          Later in the day Lori sent me a text. “She absolutely loves it! She has shown it to everyone!”

          I know I told you I was tired of my sketchbook...

Guess what I did this week.

Don’t laugh. 

          When I took the girls out before bed I saw we had an orange moon! I took 29 photos, all the while changing my settings, trying to get a decent shot. This is the best.

          Let’s call this one done!

Done!