Two Weeks Long

 

          My last letter blog came out to ten pages when printed and for most people, it was quite enough. But my week went on and on and was so chock-full of pictures and news, it’s like two weeks packed into one! I, for one, can’t wait to hear what else I’ve got to say. So, let’s get on with the week that was two weeks long.

          I found my first baby Monarch long after Addi’s family already had one transform into its true self.

          The next caterpillar I found was at the end of a mating pair of stink bugs. They impale them, inject digestive juice, and suck out all that yummy goodness.

          He, or she, wasn’t happy that I was so close and kept trying to get away, but as you can see, he had all kinds of stuff going on and couldn’t go far or fast.

          Most stink bugs are vegetarians. I don’t know if this was a meal of opportunity or if this is one of the species that eats meat.

          The next time I’m walking past my milkweed patch and looking for caterpillars, I spot the tail end of an earwig down inside a rolled leaf. I started to walk past then thought, it’s been a while since I’ve photographed an earwig, so I went back, pulled the leaf open a little, and took his picture.

          Looking at it on my computer, I see extra legs. I think there’s a stink bug nymph feeding on the earwig.

          Then I find my second baby caterpillar. This one is really little. 

          This particular milkweed had several leaves with these tell-tale little holes in them, but when I looked, I didn’t find any more babies. What I did find, hiding in the rolled top of the plant was another stink bug nymph. I wonder if he’s using this milkweed as his own personal hunting ground and I got the last ‘pillar before he could.

          I saw a metallic green fly on the milkweed a couple of different times and wondered if this was the Tachinid fly that lays its eggs on the monarch caterpillar.

          Tachinid flies differ in color, size, and shape but many somewhat resemble house flies. They usually are either gray, black, or striped and often have many distinct abdominal bristles, is what the internet says, so I’m guessing it’s not.

          I think this is a Longlegged Fly.

          The other caterpillar you might find on milkweed are these guys.

          “What are they?” you wanna know.

          These are the caterpillars of the Tussock Moth. 

          I saw another Bee Fly. This one, because of his mottled wings, is a Tiger Bee Fly. 

          This guy wouldn’t land, but I got this in-flight photo, which isn’t too bad. A White Admiral. 

          Tiger Swallowtail. 

          I know you’ve seen the humbees and Bergamot before, but I really can’t help myself. If I’m walking past and see one, I just have to take its picture. That means you get to see it, too — again.

          Dragonflies fall into the same category. If I sees ‘em, you sees ‘em. I was up at the Robinsons pond when I took  pictures of this guy.

          Bondi entertained herself while I was taking pictures of the dragonfly. She’d jump and grab the low branch of this pine and pull on it. When she lost it, she’d jump and grab it again.

          The Robinsons' have an enviable pond.

          A Monkey flower I spotted growing beside the road. 

          Mike and I were out on the golf cart one day and our neighbor Randy Walker drove past and stopped to chat for a minute.

          “My boy's raising Longhorns. You should come out and see them sometime,” he told us. “They’re in the back field because I don’t want them breeding my dairy cows, but they come up every evening."

          By the time we decided to do that, the Longhorns changed their schedule and weren’t anywhere close to the fence.

          I love the waterfall of flowers Jenny Walker has coming out of the old cement mixer.

           Jenny and the girls were at the truck waiting for Randy to finish his chores, so we stopped to show off our new baby.

          Look at all these beautiful ladies!

          I wondered how cats and chickens got along on the farm. It looks like this guy rules the roost! He didn’t have any problem giving this guy a dressing down! 

          The Walkers have a rich history here and I could write a whole story on them alone. Someday, if Jenny agrees, I may just do that!

          I saw these along the road as we headed for home. Does anyone know what they are? Chokecherries, maybe? They’re not as big as a regular cherry.

          I don’t need any help identifying these. I don’t even need to see the flower. This is the fruit of Bittersweet Nightshade.      

 

          All the Bradley tillers lined up. 

          Black-eyed Susans are blooming. This was my first chance to get a picture of one. 

          Bondi went to the vet for shots. She’s too little so they only gave her one. She’ll have to make two more trips to get the rest of them.

          Anyhow, our appointment was the first of the morning so we left early enough to swing through McDonald’s and get a breakfast sandwich.

          On the way, we passed a spot where someone had (apparently) dumped a couple of half-grown kittens. There were two dead at the edge of the road. (I took pictures but won’t show you.) We did stop and I walked a good stretch, calling kitty, kitty, and listening, but I didn’t find anymore. It really pisses me off. If you’re gonna dump them, why not find a back road where they might stand a chance of surviving instead of a busy highway next to a rock cliff wall, with no hope of escape?

          “There’ve been a couple of incidents where people are throwing cats from cars,” Mike said. “I saw it on the news. They’re looking for them people, too.”  

          I saw this truck at McDonald’s. “What does it mean?” I wondered aloud.

          Some of the trees are turning brown and setting their seeds. 

          Another day, another errand, on a whim we stopped and visited with Charles McCarthy. He’s got acres and acres of new and used farm equipment.

          Charles was on the phone when we got there and he’s pointing for us to sit in his ‘love seat’. 

         He likes to tell this story, and I’m getting ahead of myself. He tells this story at the end of our visit. But since I’m on this path, let’s continue.

          Charles says, “It’s over two hundred years old — the wheel, not the seat. I got it at an auction. I paid six hundred seventy-five dollars for it.” He pauses and in a conspiratorial tone of voice says, “Jeeze, if I’d’ve known how many hugs that seat was gonna get me, I’d’ve paid my whole bank balance for it!”

          Charles was anglin’ for a hug from me but I wasn’t taking the hint.

          “I’m fresh for the huggin’,” he persisted. “I showered last night,” he paused. “Well, I’m as fresh as I’m gonna be.”

          I laughed, waved, and hurried out to the car where Mike was waiting.

          In between the gettin’ there and the leavin’, a whole lotta picture taking took place. Mike and Charles were talkin’ boy talk and I wasn’t involved in their conversation at all. “Can I take pictures of your junk?” I asked when there was a brief pause in their conversation.

          “Sure,” Charles answered.

          I got up and wandered around the packed office.

          Mike saw the pictures on my computer. “Do you know what those things are for?” he asked when he came to this picture. 

“No.”

          “They’re to seal the door shut on a trailer. One end goes around and locks in the other end, then they know if you tampered with the load.”

          “What if they cut it off and put a new one on?” I wanted to know.

          “They’re numbered. If you did that, it would have a different number on it. But what some guys did is just stick it in a little way and bend it so it didn’t come out, and not lock it. Then they’d go down the road and open it up.”

          Sneaky. The criminals always find ways around it, don’t they?

          Once I finished touring the office and took my place beside Mike on the love seat, Charles says, “If you like that, you should see what’s in the barn right there.” He pointed out the door, across the driveway to a big white barn.

          I’m sure my eyes got real big, I know my grin did. “Can I?!”

          Charles got the keys and took me over. I couldn’t believe all the stuff I saw when he opened the door. “Wow!” I exclaimed. “Just WOW! That’s a lotta stuff!”

          “There’s more downstairs.” Charles opened another door and turned on the light. “Be careful going down.”

          “I will,” I promised, and snapped his picture as I was standing two steps down, listening to further instructions from him.

          The next 28 or so pictures are what I whittled down from the 69 I took as I wandered around by myself. With no tour guide, you’ll have to caption the pictures yourself.

          If you wanna do the express tour through these pictures, I totally understand. This kinda stuff isn’t everyone’s cup o' sunshine. For me, I’d love to have a stash like this at my disposal. That and the ability to be as good a welder as our handsome son Kevin is. The yard art I could create then! But I’m not coveting — I’m dreaming. I have plenty enough things right here and now to satisfy my passion for making things.

            Sweet Addi finished her fairy light bottle and gave it to her mom. 

She also got a good start on her fairy house before she had to leave for the day.

Addi was able to come back a couple of days later and spent almost her whole time making this fabulous roof for her house. 

          I didn’t make a fairy house. I finished painting a fairy light bottle for my beautiful sister Phyllis while Addi worked on her roof.

          And when Addi wasn’t here, I made purple ladybugs for Phyllis, too, so I’ll show you those all in one picture. I should’ve turned the lights on. Think she’ll like them?

          Besides ladybugs for Phyllis, I made some ladybugs for our vet. Don’t laugh. I know I pay her for her service and she isn’t really a friend friend, even though she is friendly. I just wanted to, so I did.

          “I love them,” Dr. Lori said. “Thank you! I can’t put them on the barn because my husband wouldn’t like that, but maybe I’ll put them on the chicken coop.”

          Saturday came and it was letter blog day for me. I got to thinking about it. There isn’t any reason Addi can’t paint her fairy house while I work on my computer. I messaged her mom and Addi came and painted. She didn’t get it done but it looks so fabulous! She’s coming back today (Monday) or tomorrow to finish it. Next week you’ll see it done — and be so jealous! 

          Tis the season!

          Fair season!

          We drove over to the Troy Fair, about forty miles from us.

          I know you’ve seen the Towanda courthouse from the bridge many times before, but this time the light was awesome and the flowers in the planter boxes on the bridge were blooming.

I didn’t take a lot of pictures because the light caused reflections on my window.

This guy was having too much fun directing cars to the parking area. He made me smile. 

The gate.

Just inside were tractors. Mike stopped to look.

“It’s an airport tug,” Mike said. 

          My first stop was at the Cactus Taters stand. They’re the thinly spiral-sliced deep-fried taters that are more like chips. They were a little oily and I had to pay the piper later. They gave me a belly ache.  

          Mike got his Italian sausage sandwich and we shared an apple dumpling with ice cream.

          We wandered over to where the pig races were taking place. Talk about fun! We missed the first heat but were there in time to see the second.

          “These aren’t full grown pigs,” the lady presenter said. She went through her spiel, picking a member of the audience for each of the pigs. If your pig won, you got a prize. They put the pigs in the starting gate, a trumpet blared A Call to the Post starting the race, and the pigs were off. I was surprised at how fast they raced around the track.

          How did they train them to do that? I wondered. Then the pigs got to the finish line where a treat awaited them. Food. That’s how they did it. Food is a great motivator. I just hope they don’t starve them first. 

          The pigs all had corny names.

          The third race was the adult potbelly pigs. We all laughed when they waddled out. There’s no starving going on here! 

          One of the pigs "blew a bottom hose and was leaking everywhere,” she said and we laughed as the pig stopped for a pee.

          Donald Rump Roast was in no hurry and came in wayyyy last.

         I took a video of the final race, including the spiel as she picked people. My video abilities are lacking and I think I covered the microphone at one point. It starts out blurry but gets better. I named the link Pig Race if you want to see it. This time I think I clicked all the buttons so anyone with the like can view the video. Let me know if it doesn't work.

Pig Race

          Mike and I wandered through a couple of the craft buildings and I stopped and chatted with a gal who made gnomes. She was just adorable in her passion as she told me all about trying to get the business off the ground, going to one craft fair, paying for booth space in several others, then COVID hitting and it all being canceled.

          Dana makes almost everything on these gnomes, even their hats. Her attention to detail is remarkable. She showed me how she uses complimentary thread colors as she attaches buttons and other embellishments. She’ll even do custom orders. I’ll hook you up with her contact info if you’re interested. 

          Let’s end this time with a few road pictures from our trip home. 

          Done!