Peggy's Jibber-Jabber: Ginger

We didn't spend much time watching the bridge work this week. Early in the week, we watched them break up the pier.

Matt, the backhoe operator, separated out the pieces that had rebar in them. Then he'd break them apart by dropping one on top of the other.

By the time I got there the next day they had plastic-covered barriers set in the creek, the weed barrier in place, and were putting the rocks down. Rocks. Yeah. That might be an understatement. These are huge rocks. I believe they're called boulders.

As we were sitting there a truck came to deliver a load of these large rocks.

"I wonder if they're side swing doors," Mike said as we watched him back into place. "If they just swing up then those big rocks could get stuck."

One of the guys was backing the dump truck up, then bent to pick up a rock and toss it out of the way.

"Why are they foolin' with those little rocks?" I asked.

"They could get stuck between the duels and kick out when they're driving down the road."

The truck where they wanted it, the driver got out and undid the door. It was a side-swing door. It didn't swing open very far and Matt used the bucket of the backhoe to swing the door the rest of the way open. One of the guys was standing there, ready to grab the door and hook it into place.

"Is the door that heavy?" I asked.

"I don't think so," Mike answered.

The very next load explained everything. The driver unlatched the door and out rolled a big rock. Now I understand. Who wants to get crushed by a rolling rock when they're swinging the door open? No one, right?

Well, I guess this guy didn't get the memo.

Matt alternated between placing boulders on the weed barrier and preparing the other side. He took out giant scoops of mud and water. A piece of something hung over the side of the bucket. What is that? I wondered. Weed barrier? Maybe it's someone's clothes! I know, I'm weird.

"You think they ever find any bodies?" I asked.

Mike didn't even laugh at me. "I doubt it."

"It could happen," I justified. "Remember that episode of Columbo we saw where the guy knew they were going to pour concrete the next day so he put a body in the hole the night before?" Nothing like defending your position with a fictional TV show, is there?

"Yeah." He remembered it.

"I bet that would shut your worksite down." Something like that could cost a company a lot of lost time and money, I thought. "Maybe they wouldn't even report it." I made a mental note to ask Dewayne the next time I saw him. Dewayne's the boss of the worksite.

Speaking of Dewayne, I have to tell you. When we first met him, Mike didn't quite remember his name. "What was his name?" he asked.

"Who's name?"

"The boss. Wayne?"

"Dewayne," I corrected.

"Huh? Wayne?"

"NO!" He doesn't listen. "DA-WAYNE!"

"DA-wayne?"

I laughed. "Dewayne."

That day we went someplace. "Look at that blue truck," Mike says getting my attention.

"What?" I asked.

"BA-LUE."

Look who's slow now, right? I was too busy laughing to even note what he was trying to show me. Then we were pointing out BA-lue things to each other 'cause it was kinda fun to say and keep the joke going.

Then I upped it a notch. "Look Mike! That sign. It's GA-REEN!"

And the fun ended because we got where we were going.

So! Back to the bridge worksite. We sat there long enough to watch them put in the next section of weed barrier. Matt parked the backhoe, got out, and disappeared from view.

"That Matt. He's a workhorse," I said as we watched him come walking back into our field of vision dragging the weed barrier.

Dewayne was putting on hip waders then he came dragging a second piece.

They manhandled the pieces and got 'em where they wanted 'em and put rocks on the edges to hold 'em in place.

Since we already watched the trucks unload and Matt put the boulders in place on the other side, we didn't stay to watch anymore. We went on home and burned more brush. Mike had a pile at the upper barn and since we had good luck burning the first pile, he went and brought that pile down. It wasn't nearly as big and when the fire burned down we went to work picking the unburned stuff from the edges and tossing them into the fire.

"Here give me those," Mike said as I'd picked up a couple of nice size branches. "I have a place I want to put them."

It was okay by me. I handed them over. Mike already had a couple of pieces in his hands and as he took mine from me he brushed my arm with a very hot stick.

"Owww!" I said.

"What?"

I guess he didn't know he had a hot one. "You burned me!"

"I'm sorry," he was quick to say.

I'm sure he didn't mean to do it and he really felt bad that he hurt me. I brushed the ash from my arm and kept on working. I'll tell you what. I sure felt that burn! It kept smarting so I licked it and sucked on it a little. I know, right! Gross! It tasted a little salty, whether from my sweat or the ash, I don't know but it felt better after that. When I got into the house and got washed I applied a little lavender oil. A hundred years ago, give or take a few, when I had Peggy's Kitchen, I'd get burned sometimes. My beautiful cousin Lorraine sent me a small bottle of 100% Lavender Essential Oil from Liz's Garden and told me it'd be good for my burns. I still have some and what's more amazing is that I knew where it was at. It only takes a drop or two and it smells so nice. I think of Lorraine every time I use it and am so very thankful for her. And my burn's never really bothered me much after that. I got burned on Tuesday and took this picture on Saturday. It's itching a little now so I know it's getting better. I had a hard time taking the picture because my camera is a right hand camera, in that the shutter release is on the right-hand side, so it was awkward taking it with my left hand.

"Peg! Why didn't you ask Mike to take the picture for you?"

I know, right! I should've thought of that!

I rescued two toads and this guy from the burn pile, but I suspect this guy had just flown in cause he wasn't covered in dirt.

Do you remember when Mike and I made shades from 3/4" thick styrofoam for my church? We don't have airconditioning and blocking the sun really helps to keep it cooler. That's especially helpful during exercise class. It's been two years now and I always thought it would be cute to paint them to resemble stained glass. I keep bringing the idea up but for some reason, no one's doing it. I finally got tired of waiting for someone else to do it and recruited two beautiful ladies to help me. Debbie, Jody, and I blocked it out and painted one day...

...and the next time we met we 'soldered' our 'stained glass' together.

They certainly look better than the ugly old green!

Our church is looking into getting air conditioning but we'll likely keep using these even after we get it. Keeping the sun out really helps in the summertime.

"We're you at?" Mike asked when I answered my phone.

"Jody and I just finished and we're leaving the church now." Debbie left a little earlier.

"You better hurry. They're moving the backhoe over to our side. You want to see it go past our place, don't you?"

Really, it means more to Mike than to me but I'm a good wife and went along with it. "Sure I do! I'll be right home!"

When I got home, we jumped on the golf cart and got to the bridge just as they were finishing securing the backhoe.

Then we went back to our house and found a place to pull off the road and wait for it. We didn't have long to wait.

From our side, there's not nearly as much to see and from then on we've spent very little time there.

"I wonder what happened to the 1899 rock?"

"I don't know," Mike answered. "I guess we won't worry about it."

Later on, Dewayne showed up and Mike asked him about it.

"It's in the pile down there. Matt didn't know about it and it's broken."

Sigh.

"Those are nice rocks though," Dewayne went on to say. "You don't often find them cut like that. Do you have any use for them?"

At first, Mike said no but I talked him into it. "You heard Dewayne. You don't find rocks like that often. We could take them now and maybe someday you'll find a use for them."

Dewayne is happy to dump them at our place. It's not far for the truck to go so it saves him in truck time.

"How'd they get the hammer over here?" Mike asked Matt. "Swing it over with the crane?"

"Oh heck no. That thing weighs 8,000 pounds. They put it on a truck and brought it around."

A hammer like this will set you back about half the cost of the backhoe it takes to operate it.

"Peg. Mike has a jacket on!"

I know, right! Here in the mountains it's cool in the mornings. We woke to the mid-thirties a couple of mornings.

Ginger. My poor Ginger. I can't tell you how much I love this little dog.

This week both the girls went in for heartworm tests and wellness checks. Ginger has always had a lump in her belly.

"Does she have a broken rib or something?" Mike used to ask me. So this bump has been there almost as long as we've had her — and she's eleven.

The vet became aware of it a year ago and thought it was the size of an orange. A layman like me thought it was more the size of a walnut.

"Have you noticed if her belly's getting bigger?" Dr. Lori asked.

"Heck, I just thought she was getting fat," I told her.

"I think the lump is growing. It's more the size of a grapefruit now. I think we should x-ray it and see what's going on."

Dr. Lori gave me some warning signs to look for if we decide to do nothing but it could burst and kill her.

Sigh.

Mike and I talked about it and he let me decide. I want to at least have the x-rays done. Then we'll decide if it's surgery or... or... I can't even say it. I can barely think about having her put down. I really, really, love my little Ginger. She always wants to sit with me and go where I go and sleep under the covers by my side. How can you not love somebody who loves you that much? Come Monday I'll get that scheduled. If it's not too much to ask, could you say a little prayer for Ginger?

"Peg, how are your Monarchs?" you ask.

Oh. My. Gosh! I was so worried about the chrysalis turning black and no butterflies emerging that I Googled it. As it turns out there is something called Black Death that can infect them. It said if you have that happen, you want to remove the chrysalis from your butterfly house because if it bursts it'll spread the virus to the others.

That was Sunday night and as it happens, I call my cute little red-haired brother Richard on Sunday nights. "Take a thread and tie it to the base of the chrysalis then you can take it away from the others and hang it somewhere else," he advised.

Tomorrow, I thought. I'll do it tomorrow.

But the more I thought about it the more I thought I should get up and do it. So I did. I had two chrysalises that were black and had been black for a long time. I tied a piece of thread on them and cut them free from the top of the box. Then I hung them from my banana feeder. That's just a wire you slide a ripe banana into and it's supposed to attract butterflies. I never saw any butterflies but it seldom hung there for more than a day. It seems the coon (or maybe it was the possum) likes bananas too and took them the night I hung them out.

The very next morning when I take the girls out to do their business I see the chrysalis did indeed burst. I got it out just in time, I thought and was pleased with myself.

Then my eyes drift up and I see this! A Monarch! He did emerge! But what is all that wet stuff? Is that normal?

Thursday, another one! By the time I found him his wings were fully inflated so I gently scooped him up and set him outside the butterfly house, took his picture, and the next time I checked, he was gone.

Saturday morning another one! His wings were still wrinkled so I left him in the protection of the butterfly house until they were dry, then I released him.

Saturday afternoon another one was born! I'm over the moon!

And now, having had three Monarchs emerge from their chrysalis in the butterfly house, I can tell you that they do indeed have a little bloody birth fluid when they're born. Why does that surprise me? I don't know but it does. And you won't be surprised because now you know.

I have three chrysalides left, one being one of the ones I took out of the butterfly house a week ago. I'm guessing he really is dead. But I'll let it hang for a while until there is no hope left.

Mike untwisted wires, pulled the protective fence away from the cherry tree, and we pulled weeds. I was ready to toss a handful of Goldenrod when I spot this guy.

"I'm taking him home," I told Mike, "and putting him in my butterfly house."

I Googled him. He's a Goldenrod Hooded Owlet and he's a moth. I only had him for two days and he escaped my butterfly house. It's not sealed but I didn't think he could've or would've squeezed out but he did cause he's gone.

I picked Miss Rosie up for exercise class on Friday night. Lamar was on the porch. "There's a heron in the creek!" he called.

I perked right up. "Where?"

"He's walking down the creek, I can see his head," Lamar said.

Miss Rosie was looking while I grabbed my camera from the Jeep. "Where is he? Can you see him?" I asked.

"He's right there," she pointed. "I wouldn't've seen him but he moved. He really blends in with the rocks."

I finally spotted him and took his picture. He's pretty far away so my picture isn't that great. I love these birds and don't get a chance to photograph them very often so even when I get a crappy picture, you get to see it.

I haven't taken any wildflower pictures this week but I did take a picture of the this. This is the fruit of a Nannyberry tree. This tree has been here longer than we have but I've never identified it before. My cute little red-haired sister Diane had gotten some of Momma's books and she thought I could use a couple of them. Among them was a book on trees and that's how I found out what this is! It's called Nannyberry because girl goats like it more than boy goats do. You can eat the fruit raw while it's juicy and has a sweet-tart flavor. You can dry the berries or make them into jam. In folk medicine the leaves and bark, seeds and berries are useful in treating respiratory diseases, digestive, and menstrual problems. It'll relieve pain and anxiety. The bark is antispasmodic with relaxes muscle spasms.

I for one would like to taste it but I may have waited too long. I opened one up and it was dry with one big seed in the middle. I guess if you can dry them that it'd still be edible, right?

Have you seen Texas on the news this week with all the rain they had? My handsome brother David is in Galveston and he sent me this picture of the street in front of his house.

"We got a little in the garage," he told me.

Most of these houses have a garage on the bottom floor and living area on the second level.

"What have you been crafting this week?" you ask.

I'm so glad you asked! I finally finished the lock keeper for my beautiful sister Phyllis.

"It's about time!" you say.

I know, right! It's been sitting on my glass table forever! Now, with Halloween coming, my thoughts have turned to making a few Halloween themed suncatchers. I found a cute simple witches hat that I can change the color of the band and witches shoes that I can match the hat.

These are the patterns that I'll use and now you don't have to wait for me to make one to see what I'm talking about.

I also found a little somethin-somethin special for that beautiful, feisty, red-headed neighbor of mine, Miss Rosie, but you'll have to wait to see that. I did check with her first. "Do you even want any more suncatchers?" I asked. "I'm not sure you've got any place left to hang one."

"Silly girl," Miss Rosie said. "I can always rotate them through the seasons like I do my Billy Jacobs pictures."

While looking for 'Halloween glass' this came up and they looked fun. I made a Halloween luminary, a fairy on a mushroom, and I'm going to make a Santa one yet. After that, maybe no more. I don't really have anything to do with them once I've made them.