Peggy's Jibber-Jabber: May 2019

I know I really should quit complaining but I gotta tell ya! Time is just slipping by so fast! My days are so full I don't even get to nap.

"Peg, do you wanna nap?" you ask.

Well, no. But they say it's good for adults to take a nap. I'm just way too busy to even consider one as evidenced by the date at the top of this page. Today is Monday, Memorial Day.

"I always confused Memorial Day and Labor Day," my dad told me once. "I couldn't remember which was which. Then your mom went into labor on Labor Day and Patti was born so now I remember that Labor Day is in September."

You know what, Dad? That trick works for me too!

Today is Memorial Day and I'm just getting started on my weekly letter blog. I've got 81 pictures picked out to use and that number can change as I add to my stories or sometimes decide to skip one. And despite my best efforts, sometimes I miss adding a picture I fully intended to show you. Like this one. I missed it last week. It's moss and it's getting ready to flower. Okay, okay! Moss doesn't really produce a flower but this stage in their lifecycle is their reproductive stage called gametophyte. If they made a flower this would be it.

This guy isn't giving up.

Chickweed. I'm not sure what the bug is that's on it. Considering how small Chickweed is I didn't even know the bug was there until I saw the picture on my computer.

"How small is Chickweed?"

This small!

I could spend a whole page telling you about this awesome little herb. Yes, it's an herb not just a nuisance in your yard or a mere weed. It contains many vitamins like A, B1, B2, B3, C, and E along with calcium, copper, iron, magnesium, and other trace elements.

You can eat it as a salad vegetable or cook and eat like cabbage. The greens can be dried and used for tea. All of the above ground parts have been used in herbal medicine. It's a mild antiseptic, mild diuretic, laxative, expectorant, and anti-rheumatic to name a few.

I like Mike to mow my Milkweed patch once in the spring but it's been so wet he hasn't been able to do it and now the Milkweed is coming up. This is such an important food source for the Monarch butterflies.

My pond lilies are coming on. This kind is called Spatterdock.

Ginger loves to get in the water but she only goes in up to her belly.

She runs on ahead of me while I'm looking for interesting shots. When I look for her, I can't see her among the tall pond grasses. "GINGER! GINGER! WHERE ARE YOU!"

I knew about where she was and I had to look hard to see her because she won't bark in answer. See her? She's right in the middle of the shot.

Ginger and I are walking around the pond when I look up and notice something brown lying close to the water on the other side.

A dead whistle pig, I think and raise my camera for a shot. But it's not. It's a fawn.

"Ginger!" I called in an excited voice. We were just crossing the bridge and she was a little ahead of me. "Come here!" I faked her out. She thought I had something for her and she came to me. I picked her up and carried her because I didn't want her chasing the baby.

Babies won't run, I've heard it said, so I thought I'd get a nice close-up shot. Guess what? They do so run!

"I guess it depends on how old they are," my oldest and much-adored sister Patti said.

It's odd that I hadn't seen the mother. Usually they snort when they run away. Maybe she saw me and snuck off before I could see her, I thought.

The fawns'll come back to the same spot where she left them, I'd read.

I circled around and got the mail and after a while, I checked to see if the fawn had come back. It had not.

Does and fawns have a way of finding each other, the article said. So I didn't worry.

The next day the fawn was back and once again I hadn't seen the doe. Now I was worried. Where was the mother? Why didn't she come back for her baby, were questions running around in my head. If she'd come back for him then he wouldn't still be in the same spot, would he?

Mike and I were on the golf cart and went across the road to talk to Sally, the neighbor lady. She was working in her garden.

"Have you seen a doe around or maybe one killed on the road?" I asked.

"I saw a doe and fawn yesterday... no, the day before." She pointed in the direction she saw them moving, which was toward my pond. "I was out but didn't see any dead does along the road."

I told her about the fawn at my pond being there for two days.

Mike's friend Vernon was on his way to his cabin when he sees us talking to Sally and stops. Mike went to talk with him while I chatted with Sally, then I caught up with them.

"Just leave it alone. They seem to do alright," was his advice.

But I was worried and called DNR.

"The first couple of weeks after the fawns are born, the mother leaves them for the day and will come back at night to feed them," the officer told me.

"How will I know if it's in trouble?" I asked.

"Just like any baby, when it gets hungry it'll cry. So if it's crying for a long time, then it's in trouble."

I thanked him for his time and set up my game camera. The next day when I went to collect the camera, the fawn wasn't there. I had something like 10,000 pictures on the camera. Every time the grass moved, it took a picture. I got birds and rabbits but eventually I found the doe. Just as she's moving out of the frame I see a little set of eyes coming into view and I knew what the DNR officer told me was true, and I felt a world better.

I saw an Indigo Bunting on the fence post. When the coast was clear he came to the feeder hanging under the awning.

And this little guy! Look at him! Mike and I were sitting at the table playing cards when I see this bird on the patio with a mouth full of dog hair.

"I've gotta get a picture of this!" And I jumped up to get my camera.

"It'll be gone before you get back," Mike said.

As soon as I could see the bird through the door, I snapped a picture. I was afraid Mike would be right.

Only he wasn't.

As full as this little guy's mouth was he still hopped around looking for more things to pick up. It tickled me.

"What kind of bird is it?" you wonder.

And I wonder that too. I know it's not a Tufted Titmouse because it doesn't have a tuft on his head. I described him to my Miss Rosie and we think this may be a Gnatcatcher.

I've got birds at the pond too. I tried for days to get a decent picture of them as they swooped and circled above the pond. Then I managed to catch this one as it sat on a branch.

I didn't get my camera up in time to get this one and caught him just as he launched from his perch. Do you think they're a Kingbird?

Damselfly.

The Autumn Olive is blooming. I can't decide which picture I like better.

I have been trying and trying for butterfly pictures. I chased this Pearl Crescent all over the field before I finally gave up.

A few days later I was tickled to find this Red Admiral on the back patio — and she let me get this picture before she took off.

Only she didn't go far. She landed on the ground just a few feet from me and must have found something really good to eat because she let me get some really close-up shots.

The host plant for the caterpillar of the Red Admiral is primarily the stinging nettle but can also be found on the false nettle.

Did you know Red Admirals are territorial? Females will only mate with males that hold territory

I'm in charge of weedeating around the buildings. I didn't take down these Fleabane Daisies that were growing against the back of the mill. With their lavender tint, I think these are the Philadelphia Fleabane.

Do you see the two Hoverflies?

"Those little bees?" you ask.

Yes, but they only look like bees to ward off predators. They're a fly. When they land on you they'll even dip their abdomens trying to fake you out; make you think they're gonna sting. They won't. They're harmless to us but important for pollination.

I found this guy on my kitchen floor. He's missing a wing.

Whether he shed it or the cats got to him first, I don't know. Then the next day I found one in the litter box and he had both his wings.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" I told him. "You have wings, why don't you just fly out!" I scooped him up and tossed him out the door.

Between the birds and bugs, I spent hours trying to identify things for you. I thought this guy kinda looks like an Alderfly except his wings aren't deeply veined enough. I asked my West Virginia friend Trish if she knew.

"He's a type of waterbug," she told me. "We get a lot of them here. Get the sticky boxes from the dollar store and put them where you see them the most. They're not poisonous, they just get stuck and die."

"My method is catch and release," I told her. I don't want to kill things if I don't have to.

"I don't like them. They remind me too much of roaches."

That thought actually did cross my mind when I first saw him. Those I wouldn't have any trouble killing but I doubt even a nuclear bomb would wipe them from the face of the earth. I decided to have a little fun with her. "So you're saying they're guilty by association?"

She's a good sport and laughed. "Yep!"

Virginia Pepperweed.

The Silky Dogwood is getting ready to bloom. Mike has all the lower branches trimmed off so it's hard for me to get a picture. At the end of summer it gets a dark purple-blue fruit on it. I'm sure I'll be showing you pictures all summer as they develop.

These will never have a chance to develop. They're growing under my clothesline and Mike mows them down. This is Hawkweed and gets a pretty yellow flower on it. There's an orange variety too. Not to worry though, my loves, I'll find some someplace and show them to you.

Speaking of the clothesline, we had the most beautiful blustery day to dry laundry. I love it.

And speaking of Mike mowing...

Yep. Stuck again!

I managed to get a picture of these 'fun guys' before Mike mowed them over.

And I almost stepped on this guy as he was sunning himself in the grass. He's just a harmless little Garter Snake.

I saw a DIY project for making a stand for my hairdryer. It's just a plumbing part. Hairdryer goes in the top hole, curling iron in the side. I'd been using mine for quite a while before I decided to paint it purple. I got it all done and let it dry.

Then when I took it in to the bathroom and put my stuff in it, I realized I should have painted the inside too. Back out I went and this time I couldn't get the lid off the spray paint can. So I did what I'd seen Mike do before. I wacked the lid. Off it flew — and the nozzle too. I didn't just knock the nozzle off, I broke it, and had to throw the whole can away. There must be a trick to knocking the lid off without breaking the nozzle and I wish I'd known that before I tried. Oh well. Live and learn.

A trip to Dushore netted a few road pictures.

The church overlooks the town. The steeple is bare from where the tornado took the copper sheeting off.

We stopped at the feed store. Ginger was with us and I carried her inside to look at the price of birdseed. She was quite taken with the chicks. The chicks were not impressed with her and ran to the other end of the container they were in.

They had beautiful hanging baskets!

On the way home, coming through the little town of New Albany, I see a toddler climbing out of a first-floor window. By the time I thought to take a picture we were almost past. I turned in the Jeep to take a picture out the side window, and I might have gotten the shot too, if not for the dump truck.

We also saw where someone kissed the guide rail on his way over the bank.

On Friday, Mike went with his buddy Vernon to look at tractors. Vernon was buying, not Mike. They were actually gone so long that I started to miss Mike!

"Peg, let's go for a ride tomorrow," Mike said after he got home.

I wanted to say No. It's my letter blogging day, but I didn't. I said, "Where?"

"I wanna take you down 187 and show you a house the flood almost wiped away. Then we can go on into Wysox and get ice cream."

I didn't fuss. I agreed to go. My Saturday was partially blown for letter blogging anyway, I might just as well blow the whole day, I thought. My church was having hot dogs and S'mores at the parsonage Sunday afternoon and I would be spending part of my Saturday baking cookies for that. So my Sunday was already partially blown too!

Road pictures, anyone?

Then we passed high fencing. I knew it was to keep deer so I wasn't surprised when I saw them. I just wonder if they're raising deer or rescuing them.

We rounded a corner and there was the house.

It made me realize how long it'd been since we were on this road because the flood was quite a while ago. But the road is twisty and winding and Mike would much rather take the highway.

Mike pulled over and I got out to take a few pictures.

I walked up to the window and took a picture.

"Oh the dangers of living beside a creek," I told Mike.

Back on the road, I take more pictures.

Old car on the left, old truck on the right.

Mike is still battling a sore throat and cough. Saturday I was coughing too and decided to take a dose of NyQuil before bed so I wouldn't be coughing all night. Sunday morning Ginger woke me up dancing on the bed. It was just before 7. I took the dogs out and decided to lie back down for a little while. It was 9:30 when I woke up. I usually leave for church at 10. I jumped in the shower for a quick wash, dried, and put on the first dress clothes I got my hands on. A pretty black blouse with big blue flowers and long black skirt. I slipped on a pair of sandals but didn't like the look and switched them for heels — and had 15 minutes to spare. I made a cup of coffee and Spitfire was having a fit! He was winding around my legs and meowing his displeasure at having had no breakfast. I looked at the clock and decided there was enough time to feed the critters. Even if I didn't leave the house until 10:15 I wouldn't be late. It's only a mile up the road and service starts at 10:30. I just like to get there early, read the bulletin, visit.

There I am, standing at the sink and Spitfire jumps up onto the stand where the cat food is kept. It's in a little cubby where I keep all the pet food — and a mouse trap. I set a mouse trap baited with peanut butter. I'd seen evidence of a mouse and set a trap a few days before, then hid it behind the extra containers of cat treats. I wasn't paying much attention to Spitfire but realized he was nosing around the trap. Cats like peanut butter and I was afraid he'd get snapped. Before I could do anything he pulled back — and I saw the trap dangling from his chin. Did he get his tongue snapped, I wondered, followed immediately with, why didn't he scream, followed immediately by, maybe he got it caught on his flea collar. I didn't snip the ends and it hangs down. Spitfire turned and I saw he had a mouse that'd been caught in the trap overnight. He must have smelled it and went for it. I took the trap, the mouse, and Spitfire out the kitchen door and released the mouse. Spitfire grabbed him up.

"Git goin'!" I shooed him. I didn't want the mouse in the dog run. He picked his mouse up and moved a few feet.

"Go on!" I told him and stomped after him. He went a little further.

"Over the fence!" I told him but he wasn't having any of that. By this time, I'm out from under the awning and my heels are sinking in the soft ground. Boy! That makes the going tough. I picked up Spitfire, who was still holding his mouse and tossed him over the fence. Then I went back in to mix up the cat food. I can feed all nine of the cats on one 5.5-ounce can of cat food by mixing it with hard food and hot water. They always have hard food available to them; this is just a morning treat. When I went back out with the cat food, he had his mouse in the dog run again. I put his share of the food down for him and he dropped the mouse to dig in. I had no choice but to pick up the mouse and toss him over the fence. Spitfire caught me and went after his mouse.

He's going to bring it back, I know he is, I thought. I took care of all the cats and washed. Before I left for church I looked out the window in the door. Guess what I see?

He not only brought the mouse back, but he put it on his breakfast plate!

I snapped a quick picture and went off to church.

Church over, I get home around noon. Make lunch for us, which is always a frozen pizza. Then I spent a couple of hours working on the pictures I took Saturday.

I'm getting ready to go to the cookout and thunder rumbles.

Uh-oh, I thought.

Then the rain starts.

The rain stops.

The rain starts again and it just pours!

Four o'clock I called the pastor. "Are we having the cookout if it keeps raining?" I asked. It was supposed to start at 4:30.

"It's up to you," was his answer. "I'm going to be here anyway."

I hung up the phone and sent a quick prayer up to our Lord. Father if You want us to get together, You're going to have to stop the rain.

Guess what?

The rain stopped.

I packed the car and spent the afternoon with my church family.