You know what I love?
"ME!" you say.
And that would be correct, however, it's not what I'm talking about this time.
I love the first.
The first Iris blooming in my garden. My Miss Helen gave me these Iris's, so I think of her when I see them.
But the second Iris blooming isn't half-bad either.
Irises fold over at the top. Have you ever unfolded one?
The first fleabane daisy.
The first frog. Not the first one I've seen, he's just the first one I was able to get a picture of this year.
The first tadpole that's getting his legs. It won't be long until he'll be a full-fledged frog!
"Peg, what is that white stuff floating on your pond?" you ask.
Oh my gosh! My pond! You should see my pond!
All that floating white stuff that looks like scum is actually the fluff from one kind of willow. This willow loves the water and is very prolific. Besides all of the seeds trying to make new willows, if a branch drops in the water, he'll make a new willow. And new willows will come up from his root system too! (I call them he because you know that boys are always the troublemakers, right?)
Mike and I need to get down there and thin them out a little — or a whole lot!
The first butterfly. Again, not the first one I've seen and this isn't even the first one I've photographed this year but the other one was blurry so it doesn't count. This is a Horace Duskywing.
Did I ever tell you that I had a great-uncle Horace?
The second butterfly isn't half-bad either. This is a Tiger Swallowtail.
The first buttercup. Now they're all over the place!
The first Star-of-Bethlehem. I found these last year growing down by the pond so I was looking for it to bloom this year.
This flower, because of its star shape, is named after the Star of Bethlehem that appeared in the biblical account of the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
The first Autumn Olive bursting forth. The air is full of their sweet fragrance, calling all bees.
Some year I may make Autumn Olive jelly. I've eaten the fruit. It's a little tart but not all that bad.
A first look up into the bells of the Lilies of the Valley. Talk about sweet smelling! These are so sweet smelling!
Look at all of them in the Kipp's front yard!
"You can pick some for your vase," Miss Rosie offered. "And take some Forget-Me-Nots too!"
So I did. Thank you Miss Rosie.
"How is Miss Rosie?" you wonder.
The doctor took the bandages off her arm wanting to let it get some air. "I know there wasn't any real protection in the cloth wrappings," Miss Rosie told me. "But it felt like there was."
I have an idea. Why don't we all send Miss Rosie a get-well card or a just-to-cheer-you-up card? She's going to be like this for at least two months! Don't you feel sorry for her? I sure do!
Mrs. Rose M. Kipp
238 Robinson Rd
Wyalusing PA 18853-8120
I know ya'll are going to come through for me — won't you?
The first photographed dandelion fluff. A tiny purple grass flower getting ready to bloom beside it. Nature doesn't fool around. Get them flowers up and out to seed!
The first fungus I've shown you this year — but probably not the last.
My first pond flower. This is called Spatterdock or Cowlily.
The first time I hung my laundry on the clothesline — and got a basket full of grass spiders.
I tipped the basket sideways and watched them disappear into the grass.
"Peg, why don't you turn your basket upside down?" you ask.
I do most times. Sometimes I just like to see the spiders and see how many I can get.
The first time we had ribs at the Wyalusing Hotel.
"How many times since you've known me, have you ever seen me eat ribs?" Mike asked.
"Maybe once."
Ribs are not a big thing on my menu. I never make them and eat them even less. Mike likes them but finds them too messy to eat out in public.
"How were they?" you ask.
I know you'd never forgive me if I went on and didn't tell you. I asked Mike how they were and his response, "They're alright." I had a Swiss mushroom burger, which was very good.
The first time I ever had such a yummy and healthy dessert in an old peanut butter jar.
"Healthy dessert?" you query.
Yes. It's angel food cake cut into squares, fresh berries, and low calorie whipped topping layered together.
"Tell us about the peanut butter jar," you say. "I've never seen one like that before."
I know, right! Me either! Big Top peanut butter came in these in 1957 and is a great example of marketing a container meant to be reused. I sure wish companies would do this kind of stuff again. There'd be less waste in our landfills. Heck! I'd even pay a little more to have a beautiful reusable container such as this.
"Peg!" Mike yelled from the front door. "Grab your camera and come here!"
I know something good is coming when I hear that. I didn't waste a second as I snatched up my camera and headed for the patio but when I got there Mike was putting gas in the chainsaw. I was confused. "What?"
"There's a coon in the garage," he said.
"Really?!"
"Yep. I shut the door so he'd stay there until you got here." Mike's a good husband. He walked over and opened the garage door.
"Where?" I asked not seeing a coon.
"He was here. Maybe..." Mike ducked around the corner, "...he's in the corner."
I went to look too. After a minute, when my eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior, I see him. "Hey buddy! Come on out here and get your picture taken." He wasn't having any of that and just ignored me.
I moved some of the boards that lived in that corner and took a picture of his face. Mind you, I'm not going to get too close. I don't want to provoke him into attacking me, which a cornered animal will do.
I went in the house, retrieved my freshly made cup of coffee and took up a station on the patio. Pretty soon I see someone peeking around the door at me.
"Hey buddy. Come on out," I said but he didn't want to. He ducked back in the garage. A minute or so later he looks out at me again and this time I didn't say anything to him because I didn't want him going back in the garage again. It didn't work. He still went back in the garage when he saw I was still sitting here. I waited and then I hear the familiar squeak of the pet door flap, a black nose appears, then a whole head, and a foot.
Once his mind was made up to come out he didn't waste any time. Under the lounge chair he went and this is the first time I've ever seen a three-legged raccoon.
Around the corner he went and was gone before I could get up and get around the corner to see where he was going.
His disability doesn't slow him down any, I thought.
I told everyone who would listen that we have a three-legged raccoon.
"He must have been caught in a trap," Mike said.
Now that my photos are downloaded unto my computer and I can see them a little better, I'm not so sure that he is missing a leg. Sure, he was only using three legs but in one shot of him I think I see toes. Does he just have his leg tucked up so tight that it only looks like he has three legs?
The rain.
Oh my gosh! We have had so much rain!
My phone rings and I can see by the caller ID that it's one of the Kipps. "Hello!" I answer.
"Hi Peggy, it's Rosie," Miss Rosie says.
I pretend I didn't know that — which isn't a total lie. I knew it was a Kipp but not which one. "Hi Miss Rosie!"
"Do you guys have an extra sump pump laying around up there?"
"I don't know. I'll have to ask Mike and he's in the bathroom right now. What's going on?"
"Our basement is flooded. Lamar's down there right now trying to get the water out."
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry. I'll ask Mike and get back to you."
When Mike became available, I asked but we didn't have one. "We should go try to help anyway," Mike says. We put on mud boots, grabbed some buckets, and went to see if we could organize a bucket brigade and get them bailed out.
Poor Lamar! When we got there he was wet up to his knees trying to get the drains open and hoses siphoning. Mike stood and talked with Lamar for a little while then made a decision. "Peg, and I'll run to town and get you a sump pump,"
"You have to keep on eye on it," Mike told Lamar after we got it up and going. "If it gets plugged up it could burn the pump out."
"Alright," Lamar agreed. "But Rosie has to go get her hair done for the wedding and she can't drive. I have to take her."
Had it not been for such an important event in the Kipp family as the wedding of Jenn, their eldest daughter, I'm sure Rosie would have canceled her hair appointment.
"Mike and I can keep an eye on it for you," I blurted, then thought better of it and turned to Mike. "Can't we?"
"Yeah. We can." Mike didn't hesitate. "That's what neighbors are for."
We had an errand to run in town and we'd check the pump when we got back. I needed to mail a summer package to Andrew, our grandson, and Mike wanted to get his haircut. I hate going with him when he goes to get his haircut. He loves this girl but she takes forever! A half hour minimum if no one is ahead of you. That's not so bad, I admit, but if there are one or two men ahead of you — she only does men's haircuts — then I'm sitting in the car an hour or more. No thanks!
Ginger always seems to know when we're getting ready to go someplace and she's always eager to be allowed to go. She doesn't care where, she just likes to go.
"I'll take my computer so I have something to do while I wait." I packed up my laptop, asked Ginger if she wanted to go, and off we went.
Parking on this street is a little scary. The cow-killing plant is on this road and the bull-haulers run through town a hundred miles an hour. "I hope we don't get rear-ended while you're in there," I joked and left my seatbelt on. Ginger found something interesting to watch out the window and before I got much of anything done on my computer, Mike was back. He was first in line so my wait wasn't bad at all this time.
More turkeys! On the way home we saw more turkeys — and the rain didn't seem to bother them a bit.
We went home, swapped out sneakers for mud boots, and went to check the pump at the Kipp house. This time Ginger had to stay behind and she watched us go.
Back at the Kipps we found the sump pump off and on its side. We righted him and got him pumping again. Before long we had to move the pump to a lower area in the basement. For the next hour or so, this was my view when I wasn't helping Mike with something like cleaning the intake off.
And the creek! Oh my goodness! The creek was so full it left its bed and spilled over into the Kipp's yard.
The basement didn't flood because of the creek, the basement flooded because of the runoff coming down the hill. "It's only ever flooded twice in the 40 or more years we've lived here," Lamar explained why he didn't already own a sump pump. "Once last week and once now."
A couple of days later we stopped at the Kipps and caught Lamar digging out a ditch at the bottom of the hill. "Every couple of years I have to do this," Lamar said taking a break. "Try to catch it and run it off before it gets into the basement."
Mama Cat helped.
It stopped raining long enough that the county sprayed tar on the dirt roads in front of people's houses.
"It looks like mud," I said to Mike.
"It always does," he told me. "When it dries it'll turn black."
And he was right.'
To say that our grass was getting tall is an understatement. It was getting tall enough to lose a critter or two in.
"If I can't get out there and mow pretty soon we'll have to bale it," Mike told me.
When he could mow there were still a lot of soggy parts.
"The tire tread fills with mud then I can't go anywhere," Mike explained to me.
"You need snow chains on that thing."
Mike called for a tow three times in the last couple of days when he tried to mow. The first time he was being a good neighbor to the guys in the cabin above our place by mowing their driveway.
Then twice yesterday in our swampy backyard he got stuck.
I got a letter from one of my Missouri gals. Carol told me that stories of Mike getting the mower stuck was one of her husband's favorite things, "...because that's what happened to him more often than not."
Then Carol shared some sad news with me. Jim, her husband, has died.
Carol, we are all so sorry for your loss. I personally knew how much you loved each other and enjoyed your time together.
My first Indigo Bunting at my feeder. Miss Rosie told me she'd had one at hers so I was looking for him.
My first shots of the Black Locust tree blooms. I missed them last year. Did you know you can eat the flowers and they taste like peas? These trees are crazy evil with all their thorns. In fact, most of the trees we've been pulling are the Black Locust tree. They really like loose soil and since our land is mostly fill they abound here.
We spent several days this week pulling small trees and stumps from the larger trees Mike cut with the chainsaw.
Then we used the golf cart to pull them down to the burn pile.
Smudge helped.
We unearthed a couple of treasures while pulling. This place used to repair trucks after its milling days were gone and there are all kinds of truck parts laying around.
We found a giant hinge, an old oil can, and a horseshoe. We hung the pieces on the fence of my container garden, joining the pieces my friend Joanie gave to me. Decorating in this style is something I picked up from cousin Suzy as her fences are laden with bits of scrap metal. Some distinguishable, some just bits.
We only took one ride-about this week. Mike's bones are so achy. He's had a lot of broken bones in his life and all the rain has added to the general achiness. "I wish I could find a recliner like your sister has," he often laments. Diane, my cute little red-haired sister has a Lane recliner with an extendable footrest. Most recliner footrests only hit Mike at the ankle and it makes his ankles hurt. He loved Diane's Lane and has been looking for one ever since. This past week he saw an ad for Shaw furniture in Monroeton and decided he'd like to see what they carry in recliners. The only chair they had was one like the one we already own, The Beast. It's made for large people, has heavy springs, and not enough padding — but the footrest is long enough. With our chair, it's his hips that bother him.
"Who carries Lane?" Mike asked the lady at Shaw's.
"I believe Raymour and Flanigan does."
"Do you know where one of those stores are at?"
"Horseheads, New York. Up near the mall."
Back in the Jeep we go and decided to check them out. The intersection at Ulster is almost unrecognizable from what it used to be.
I didn't take a lot of road pictures but here's one of the girls in the pasture. I love to see a pasture full of grass. Some farms are so over-grazed they are mud pits, you know what I mean.
At the store, we wandered around checking out recliner after recliner.
He likes the power recliners but that was the only thing he found.
Well, almost the only thing he found. "This is kinda cool," he says.
Really, Mike, I thought. But, "Yeah. It is," is all I said. We walked on.
On the way home we pass a farm that sells used equipment. "I'd sure like to have my own brush hog," Mike says seeing three or four sitting there. "Then I could cut the stuff at the pond by myself."
"Well, let's stop and see what he wants for them," I suggested.
We had to turn around but we did go back and check them out. I sat in the car and snapped a few pictures while Mike talked with the guy.
As we left I saw another nine-foot dinosaur! Only the second I've ever seen.
We went through the construction zone in Ulster again.
Mike stopped in Towanda and let me shop in the thrift store. I scored some books for a young reader with a voracious appetite for reading. A young girl who gives me a hug before church on Sunday mornings — as long as Miss Rosie is with me. Otherwise she doesn't. But that's okay! She's known Rosie a lot longer than she's known me.
I also scored a set of Skip-Bo cards from 1995. They're all here and they're like new — maybe never used!
Coming in on our dirt road we see a tree has fallen. We don't know if this family moved it enough to pass or if they just stopped to check it out.
Well, my loves, this brings us to the end of another week. There are a few pictures with no stories and a little space left so let's finish the page with pictures.
Chokecherry
Smudge caught a ground squirrel or some call them a chipmunk.
I thought there was a bird in the bush, but it was just Smudge. See him?
Pink honeysuckle.
A bird at the Kipp's feeder. We're trying to figure out who she is.
Let's call this one done!
