My Biggest Frustration

 

          Looking through the picture file I created for this week’s letter blog, I see there aren’t many stories — and not a lot of pictures either!

          My biggest frustration came from spray painting ladybugs. Two things were going on and neither of them good!

          Taping it off for the different colors is a pain. “Can I paint the body color first then tape it off for the black?” I wanted to know.

          “Yeah. Black will cover most anything,” my handsome husband said.

          I had three ladybugs cut and ready to paint. I painted one all red, one all purple, and one all yellow, saving myself the time and aggravation of taping it off twice.

          My red one wasn’t sprayed evenly so the next day I applied a second coat. Almost right away wrinkles appeared.

“Why did it do that?” I asked.

          “Because the paint underneath wasn’t dry,” Mike answered.

          “I waited twenty-four hours,” I defended.

          “What’s the can say?” he wanted to know.

          I looked. “Forty-eight hours! Now what do I do?”

          “Sand it off or strip it,” was his answer.

          Then the rains came. Not steady but intermittent showers. I sat on the patio and went to work on the wrinkled red ladybug. I tried sanding and found it was a lot of work. I got the palm sander out and all that did was melt the paint and move lumps around. I set it aside and went to work on the purple one. Mike came out on the patio as I was taping it off.

          “Peg, you can’t spray paint if it’s raining or threatening rain,” he said.

          Did I listen?

          NO!

          “Why not?” I wanted to know.

          “It’ll take longer to dry,” Mike said.

          Well, I don’t care if it takes twenty minutes or two hours. I can work with that. I applied kind of a heavy coat and it was all shiny and purdy when I was done. I left to do something else and after a half hour went back to pull the tape. I was so excited to be one step closer to done. My heart fell when I saw the results. The paint was dry, powdery, didn’t shine, and had wrinkles!

          “Why did it do that?”

          “It’s drying before it hits the surface and it can’t level out.”

          Okay. I’m learning. None of this stuff happened before when I made my other ladybugs so I’m guessing the weather was a big factor. I resigned myself to stripping it and went to the garage for the lacquer thinner. I decided to try a test spot and used a cotton ball. It works! But a cotton ball didn’t seem optimal to me. “Can I put it in a spray bottle?” I asked Mike.

          “It might melt some of the plastic in the sprayer,” he guessed.

          “So basically, that means it’s a single use sprayer?” I could work with that.

          I filled a fingertip spray bottle with thinner and sprayed the part I wanted to remove. It didn’t take long for it to loosen the paint and I could scrape it right off. 

         This made me very happy! I worked until I had the black and underlying purple paint stripped off. Mike thought the thinner might lift the tape too but it looks to me like it’s still stuck down nice and tight.

          The next day, having learned my lesson, I sprayed painted a sample piece. I set it aside to dry intending to check it in twenty minutes, but life got in the way.

          We had a refrigerator go out about a year ago. Luckily, we had a second one. On a trip past Root’s, a place the services, repairs, and sells both new and used appliances, we stopped. We’ve bought from this third-generation business before and they do an excellent job. Mike wanted to check out used fridges so we could once again have a spare. We found out that even a used fridge is a few hundred dollars.

          “How much is it to have him come out and look at ours?” we asked the attendant.

          “It’s a seventy-five-dollar service call.”

          We didn’t exactly make an appointment but Bill, the repair guy, would call when he had an opening.

          Bill called the day I was painting and showed up shortly after I painted my sample piece. I took Bondi out with me and set her in the grass thinking she’d follow me. Just outside the garage door she found a furry treat that used to be a mouse. I knew she had something when she took off for the house. She was right not to let me catch her. When I finally did and saw what she had, I took it away from her. This dog is such a different dog than Itsy and Ginger were! Bondi eats anything and everything! Weeds, rocks, egg shells she digs out of my scrap bucket, anything that comes out of either end of a cat! OY!

          Our refrigerator only needed a new controller and Bill had it fixed in no time. It was cheaper than a used fridge.

          “We should’ve done that a year ago,” Mike said.

          “Yeah, well, you just can’t get in a hurry about this stuff.” That’s one of my favorite sayings by my handsome neighbor Lamar. It took him fifteen years to put a handrail up on the cellar steps and that was his reason.

          When I got back to my sample it was shiny and bright. Yay! I got the ladybug out intending to spray it. I looked at the sky and the clouds were moving in. Did I miss my window of opportunity? I took a chance and sprayed it anyway. It came out shiny and bright! I put it aside to dry a bit before I took the tape off. When I came back out my heart sank into my stomach. It was another fail. It’s dull and streaky. Who knew spray paint was so temperamental! 

         Now I’ve had to set this one aside, too. I was mourning over it, thinking I’m going to have to strip it again, when a thought occurs to me. I can flip it over! The other side is a clean, unpainted surface! Why didn’t I think of that before!

          “Peg, you’re a slow thinker, remember?” you say.

          And you’re right. It certainly took me days and wasted hours of sanding and stripping before I thought of it. But I don’t know how it’ll go over with the lady who’s paying me good money for it.

          “She’ll never see the back once it’s mounted,” you say.

          I know. It just doesn’t seem right. I’m thinking I’ll recut ladybugs for my sale pieces and finish these for my kids. I’m sure Kevin and Kandyce won’t mind if there’s paint on both sides. They call imperfections and little boo-boos character.

          >>>*<<<

          Bondi is such a stinker. This is the pad from one of the beds. She’s got this tiny little hole in it that she sticks her mouth in and pulls out the stuffing.

          I thought she’d quit when she got all the stuffing out that she could reach. Not so.

          When she can’t get any more, she’ll pull the bed around, working more stuffing within reach. I don’t know how she learned to do this. Now if only she picked up on house breaking as quickly!

          Soaking up the sunshine with Smudge.

          The mornings are chilly. I’m glad I’ve still got Itsy’s little shirts for her to wear. 

          We bought her a new squeaky toy. She loves squeaky toys. I couldn’t resist when I saw a long little banana for a long little doggie.

          My last Bondi story of the week is one that doesn’t make me very happy.

          Tiger’s been playing with Bondi and sometimes he gets a little rough. When Bondi squeaks, he stops, or, at least, he used to.

          Tuesday we were watching TV and Tiger and Bondi were playing in the dining room, just out of my line of sight. Bondi cried, and cried, and cried, and cried and cried. Tiger was really hurting her and not stopping. I jumped up and yelled and Tiger went running. I checked Bondi for blood but didn’t find any. She did whimper when I touched her paw though. She was limping a little and more the next day. The day after that she seemed better but when we were playing, I threw a toy for her to fetch, she took off, came down on her paw just right, cried, and started limping again. I have no idea what Tiger did to her. Sometimes I think her paw is turned out a little, other times I’m not so sure. Is it possible he broke it without breaking the skin? Since then, Bondi has hurt her leg a few more times, yipped, and limped for a little while.

I made a decision not to let them play together unsupervised anymore. Tiger bites at her as any cat would bite its prey. The backbone to paralyze it, the belly to gut it, the back of the neck, again to paralyze, a leg, tail, or shoulder, whenever he can get a hold of. Bondi yips, runs away, and comes back. When Tiger gets enough, he growls, runs away, but he comes back, too. Tiger really could stay away from Bondi if he wanted to. She’s confined to the kitchen area. He gets to go anyplace else in the house he wants to or up on a chair in the kitchen, so I don’t understand what’s going on. When I saw Tiger grab her by the throat, I said that was it. I’m not letting them play together anymore. I really am afraid he’ll kill her. I’ve taken pro-active steps in that direction. If Bondi tries to play with Tiger, I go after her with the fly swatter. I don’t really want to be swatting at her but it’s like when you live in town and your kid runs into the street. You spank them so they remember never to do that again. A little pain on the bottom is a whole lot better than burying your four-year-old.

          “Why did you pick a four-year-old?” you wonder.

          I knew a couple who had a four-year-old and that’s exactly what happened to him. He saw his papaw across the road, tending to the cemetery there, ran over to be with him, and got hit by a car. Dennis and Laura never had any other children.

>>>*<<<

          We lost a little tree to something that chews. I say it was a porcupine. Someone else said it was a beaver.

          Quill pigs and beavers both have teeth that grow and they must chew wood to keep their teeth short. They both eat the soft inner bark of the tree, small twigs and branches, but not the wood itself. So, I don’t know who cut our tree down!

          Mike put a rope around it and hauled it to the burn pile. 

          I’ve been really bad at keeping the weedeating done this year. And as a result, weeds grow. I bet that’s a shocker, right? One of the weeds that grew where I’ve kept it cut in years past was this one with pretty little purple flowers.

          “What is it?” I know you wanna know.

          This is Indian Tobacco also known as Puke Weed.

          Many Native Americans tribes used it for respiratory and muscle disorders, as a purgative, and as a ceremonial medicine. The leaves were chewed and smoked. The foliage was burned by the Cherokee as a natural insecticide to smoke out gnats.

          Although it may be used medicinally, consuming Indian Tobacco causes sweating, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, tremors, rapid heartbeat, mental confusion, convulsions, hypothermia, coma, and possibly death. The root is toxic and can be fatal if eaten. My advice? Put it in a jar on the window and feast on it with your eyes.

          Another one I found was this Clearweed also called Coolwort and Richweed. It’s an edible herbaceous (relating to herbs) plant in the nettle family.

          I saw this guy walking through the tall grass. I waylaid him long enough to take his picture.

          Asters are blooming! 

          I’ve got a nice Chokecherry tree down by the pond. Chokecherry gets its name because of the bitter and astringent taste of the fruit. It’s important to many wildlife animals. Birds, rabbits, rodents, and bears all seek out and eat its fruit. It provides food, cover, and nesting for a variety of birds. It’s used extensively by deer as a browse source in the winter and the early spring flowers provide an important source of nectar for butterflies, honeybees and ants.

          Chokecherry has an interesting place in history. The Indians used it in a variety of ways but it’s always cooked or dried. The most important way they used it was in the making of pemmican, a winter staple for them.

          Today we can use it to make jellies, jams, pie-fillings, syrups, sauces, and wines. 

          I do have a lavender Teasel! There’s so much of the white around here it makes the lavender seem special. If all I had was lavender then I’m sure I’d feel the same way about the white. 

          Whenever I see these, I just think of them as deformed Smartweed. That’s sorta true. They’re in the same buckwheat family, but this is called Arrow-leaved Tearthumb. 

          A pretty burdock flower.

          “Are there any spiders on it?” I mumbled aloud. Mike was waiting for me on the golf cart but I didn’t really expect him to answer. What I also didn’t expect was to find a Harvestmen on the leaf below the flower.

Daddy Longlegs are in the arachnid family but not a spider. They’re in the order of opiliones. Other critters that are arachnids include scorpions, mites, and ticks, and those are clearly not spiders either. I’ve written about Harvestmen before so I won’t take the time to write about them now.

          This guy is a spider. He was hiding from the rain in a rolled up Glad leaf. 

          I found more Doll’s Eyes shrubs that I didn’t know I had. Actually, the birds eat the fruit and spread the seeds so these may not have been here before.

          These berries will be white with a black dot (hence doll’s eyes) when they’re ripe. The birds are immune to the toxins in them but we are not. They’re poisonous. 

          My Monarch emerged from his chrysalis. I looked every day but by the time I saw him, he was dry and ready to fly. I had to put my hand inside the butterfly house to get a picture. I didn’t want to man-handle him and I didn’t want him to fly away before I could get a picture.

          “Peg, how do you know he’s a he?” you ask.

          Easy. He’s got scent spots on his hindwings. Females don’t have that. 

          I saw these interesting banana-shaped seedpods with little flowers. I had to trace the stem back to find out it belongs to the pretty yellow sorrel plant.

          “Peg! Are those bugs I see in the background?” you ask.

          Good eye! I didn’t see them until I saw the picture on my computer, then I went out and took more pictures of them. These guys are tiny! 

          “What are they?”

          I don’t know. I suspect they’re the larva of something but I’ve searched the internet for them and can’t find anything. I posted it to the bug group on Facebook but no one’s replied.

          A week later they’ve turned brown and sprouted wings! They remind me of the harmless Crane Fly but they are much too little.

          “Mosquitos!” you exclaim!

          Nope. Mosquito larva live in still water. 

          Here are some random road pictures and early foggy morning pictures. 

          Let’s call this one done!

          Done!

An End

 

Another week has come to an end and I find that my thoughts have turned to you many times through the week (as they normally do) while I snap away at pictures here and there; pictures I think you might like to see.

We took a golf cart ride down our back dirt roads and these first pictures are from that ride.

I don’t know what kind of thistle left these great tufts behind. There’s a line of it along a field by the Game Lands. It seems like I should’ve noticed the flowers long before they faded but for the life of me, I can’t remember what they were.

These flowers hiding amongst the weeds caught my attention. I thought it was some kind of rose but do you see the big ole honkin’ leaves on these things! 

This is a called Purple-flowered Raspberry, Flowering Raspberry, or Virginia Raspberry. It doesn’t have any thorns and is typically grown as an ornamental because of its rose-like, long-blooming, fragrant flowers. Its fruit resembles a large, flat raspberry and is rather fuzzy to the touch and tongue. Although it is edible, it’s somewhat dry, crumbly and unappetizing. However, it’s a beneficial food source for songbirds, game birds, butterflies, bees, large and small mammals. 

Another berry I saw was this Snowberry, also called Waxberry, or Ghostberry. It’s in the honeysuckle family. When the berries are broken open, the interior looks like fine, sparkling granular snow. The flesh is spongy and contains two whitish stone seeds. The seeds, which contain endosperm and a small embryo, are egg-shaped and more or less flattened. They have a very tough, hard, impermeable covering, and so are very hard to germinate and may lie dormant for up to ten years.

I’m going to say it is not edible. But (and there’s always a but), the Native Americans used the plant as a medicine, a soap, sometimes for food, and the wood was good for arrow shafts. In Russia, the berries are crushed in the hands and rubbed about for a soothing folk-remedy hand lotion.

I know these are some kinda sunflower. Their little faces follow the sun. Which one are they? I don’t know. Oxeye Sunflower, Jerusalem Artichoke, Woodland Sunflower, Giant Sunflower — they all look the same to me. But I suspect these are the Woodland Sunflower. Feel free to correct me. 

I saw two Horace’s Duskywings this week when I was out for a walk with Bondi.

Although these look like they’re different color butterflies, they’re really not. It’s a trick of the light. The guy sitting on the Goldenrod was in the shade and appears black to my camera.

In the sun, he magically turns brown.

Joe Pye is blooming. 

I keep looking for Queen of the Prairie, one of Momma’s favorite late-summer flowers. It’s somewhat similar to Joe Pye. Momma said when she saw Queen of the Prairie in bloom, she knew summer was over and school would soon start.

We stopped to see how the Tussock Moths were doing. They’re rapidly devouring the milkweed they’re on. I still think that big guy is feeding on the small ones. Notice there are no babies close to him and no holes in the milkweed leaf either. He was there the last time I checked and he’s still there. He’s staying for a reason.  

I Googled it. It says the Tussock caterpillars are voracious eaters and they’ll eat Monarch caterpillars, so why not any other caterpillars they find?

A little later in the week there was nothing left of the milkweed except the center main stem. Near the top was one lone Tussock.

On the other side of the fence are a couple of other milkweed plants, or maybe what I should say is there were a couple of other milkweed plants. They’re gone now too. 

I spy with my eye an Elderberry! I didn’t know this one was growing here. The one I did know about is gone. Between deer rubbing and storm damage, it succumbed. I don’t know why I’m so excited to see it. I never get any of the berries. The birds get them as soon as they’re ripe.

Lots of Juniper berries hanging on the tree. 

The boys sometimes go on walks with us. (Just Tiger made it in this picture.)

We’re walking along the perimeter of the property and a bird starts squawking. I stopped and looked until I found it. By the time I raised my camera and focused, the Catbird had just taken flight from the skeleton of the one Elderberry I knew I had.

She didn’t go far before she landed and started scolding us again.

 This is Wild Madder also called White Bedstraw. It’s sprays of tiny white flowers decorate the edges of my pond.

Going past one of the willows that grow rampant around here, I see small green berries — Wait! Willows don’t get berries! I backed it up and took a closer look. They’re galls. A gall is an abnormal growth caused by feeding or egg-laying insects, mites, nematodes (worm), fungi, bacteria and viruses and rarely affect plant health. 

Another bush that grows rampant around here is the Silky Dogwood. Its fruit is turning purple.

It’s planted for ornamental value and thrives in moist to wet soil, helping with erosion control along steep banks and slopes. It can also be used as a windbreak for homes and agriculture fields as well as being used as a natural border between fields. And let’s not forget that it provides homes and food for many types of wildlife. 

I felt the leash tighten and a resistance when I tugged. I turned around to see Bondi enjoying a back rub as I pulled her through the cool grass. When she had enough, she flipped herself over and trotted behind me. I had to smile. This was something Ginger liked to do, too. 

A bee on a milkweed leaf. He was so still and quiet I thought maybe he was stuck. I walked around him taking pictures and I don’t think he’s stuck; I think he was still cold from the nighttime temps. 

          Have you ever stopped and looked at the Smartweed when its flowers have opened up?

           This bee should give you an idea of how tiny the flowers are. 

I thought to make a loop of our walk. Down the driveway, up the road, and come in the back driveway. That way I’ll be at the kitchen door and can shed my boots without walking the whole way through the house.

I felt the leash tighten and this time when I turn around to find out what the delay was, I see someone has a mouthful. 

It could be just a clump of grass from the mower, it could have mud in it, it could have poop in it, too. Who knows? But one thing Bondi knows for sure is that I’m not gonna let her keep it but the leash doesn’t allow her to run from me. I won.

At the entrance to my driveway the Pale Touch-me-nots grow. In my head I’m already telling you that this yellow variety is much larger than the orange Spotted Touch-me-nots.

They get their name because if you touch a mature seed pod, it explodes.

On down the road are the orange ones and when I saw more of the yellow ones, I plucked two so you could see what I’m talking about sizewise.

Touch-me-nots are also called Jewelweed and are said to be a remedy for poison ivy.

Coming up the back driveway I pass the milkweed patch. I’m a little sad and confused as to why I don’t have any Monarch Caterpillars.

I have a Musk Mallow growing along the edge of my yard that wasn’t there before. 

The Musk Mallow can be made into a tea because of its expectorant and anti-inflammatory properties. This tea is then used to treat cough and gastrointestinal irritation. In case of inflammation of the throat and mouth, you can use the tea also for gargling.

Fresh shoots, young leaves, and flowers can be eaten in a salad or the leaves can be prepared like spinach or finely chopped into soups. It promotes digestion and stimulates the metabolism.

The ants are taking care of their Black Bean Aphids. They like the honeydew secreted by the aphids. They’ll even protect them from predators who might try to eat them. 

Virgin’s Bower is blooming. It’s also called Devil's Darning Needles, Devil's Hair, Old Man’s Beard, and Woodbine. This is an aggressively growing vine that will climb to the top of whatever's growing nearby. Once it sets its seeds, it’ll look totally different and the Devil’s Hair and Old Man’s Beard names will make more sense.

The boys were laying in the grass waiting for us. Bondi roused ‘em out. 

I stopped to check out my Japanese Lanterns. They’re getting red!

I unhooked and unharnessed Bondi and set her down once I’d stepped across the fenced yard. She spotted Tiger laying at the door waiting for us. Across the yard she goes at a hundred miles an hour and launches herself into his arms.

I laughed when Tiger fell over. 

Then the play started. Tiger with leg-of-Bondi, Bondi with ear-of-Tiger.

More Bondi stories, you say.

Okay! There might be one or two more left.

I was given a hydrangea two years ago (or maybe three) and it bloomed for the first time this year. I was expecting pink or blue blooms and instead I’ve got white.

The hydrangea lives inside a protective, deer-resistant fence attached to the end of Bondi’s run and it doesn’t get mowed very often. Look who snuck inside while I was taking pictures. 

Bondi loves tall grasses and even on our walks will take quick forays into it. I say that but she doesn’t like the grass in her run to be tall. I guess that’s one of those exceptions to the rule.

I turned around and spotted a rose blooming! It looks like it’s been there for a day or so and I don’t know how I missed it. 

Bondi thought she’d have a taste. 

I don’t want to hurt my rose bush with the weedeater so the grass is tall around it. Have you ever stopped to look at the flowers that bloom from the grasses? 

Interesting.

A Red Admiral came into the yard. 

I followed him around and when he landed in the grass, I took a picture of the underside of his wing.

Bondi didn’t notice him because she was busy with a find of her own. She played with this grasshopper for hours.

She never hurt him, unlike Itsy or Ginger who would’ve eaten him, but did pick him up in her mouth a couple of times. Mostly she just hunted him whenever he jumped away from her. 

I found a worm on the patio one day. I picked it up and tossed it into the yard. Someone saw me do it and went after her worm. Bondi was picking him up so carefully that she couldn’t hold on to him and dropped him several times. One ear up, one ear down because she’s lunging for it after having dropped him for the second time.

She was finally satisfied with her hold and took him back up onto the patio. I let her keep him. After he dries out, she might eat him.

A jumping spider sees me and scampers back between the boards. 

She found the broken clay pot that was in the concrete butterfly water leaf. It’s still sitting on the patio today because I didn’t pick it up again.

I finally finished a keyring holder for my Miss Rosie. I’ve been working on it for weeks!

“What was the hold up?” you ask.

I couldn’t find the hooks I wanted. So, I decided I’d use some of the junk keys we have around here. I tried to bend one with pliers and broke it. I asked Mike to try and he broke one, too. 

“It’s a pot metal and you’ll probably never get them to bend without breaking,” Mike said.

Challenge accepted!

I put it on my anvil and kept tapping away at it until I got it bent into a hook. It was a long slow process but I was pretty pleased with myself when it worked. Pride goeth before the fall. I broke the next one because I tried to bend it faster, then I got a good one, and broke the last one. I was out of keys and only had two hooks made. I wanted three.

“There should be a whole bunch of those keys around here someplace. When I had all the locks keyed the same, he gave us back the old keys,” Mike said.

I looked, and I looked, and I looked, and I even looked some more. I know Mike is right but I can’t find them anywhere!

Then I found the perfect hooks at Lowe’s. These are a rose and a push pin design, just the perfect thing.

“Did you have trouble getting the pins into the wood?” you wanna know.

Nope. Because it’s not wood. It’s cardboard. And the chickens are special napkins that were given to Miss Rosie. I was at her house one day and saw them there. “Can I have one when you open them?” I asked. “They’re just perfect for a project I have in mind.”

As it turns out, they’ve had the napkins for a while and never opened them. Because of them being so special, she didn’t want to waste them. Now she’ll have a more permanent reminder.

Miss Rose had just gotten home from shopping when I gave her the keyring holder and she showed me some shirts she’d gotten a good deal on. “You can have a couple if you want them?” she offered.

She loves me!

I looked through the shirts and picked one that would be a good match to a pair of shorts she’d given me earlier in the summer, then the bags were set aside while we visited.

“Why does she do that!?” I asked when Bondi stuck her head in Tux’s mouth again.

“I don’t know,” Rosie said.

Bondi continued to pester Tux until he jumped up on a little table to get away from her. 

Bondi’s attempts to play with Tux frustrated, she turned her attention to the shopping bags. She grabbed it and started pulling it around the porch. Tux had to jump down and see what she was doing.

Bondi pulled and pulled the bag around, going in circles — and fell down the steps. 

It barely slowed her down. Then she reached inside and pulled a shirt out. 

She laid down and started chewing the bag. I took it away from her. 

You’d think that was the end of the story, wouldn’t you?

Nope. It’s not. Bondi thought the bags were so much fun at Miss Rosie’s that when we got home, she pulled my bag of bags off the shelf. 

She had a blast pulling all the bags out and shaking them around. Smudge helped.

“Why are you letting her do that?” Mike was a little upset.

“They’re just bags. They’re having fun, burning off energy, and I’ll clean it up,” is what I said, but in my mind’s eye, I’m remembering a story from a hundred years ago.

Okay! Okay! Not a literal hundred years, but it was a very long time ago.

One of the first tenants we had at our shopping center in Lake Ozark, was a young couple with two small boys. It had rained and mama was letting the boys play in the water puddle. I took a ton of pictures. The dad came out and was upset. “Why are you letting them make a mess?” I don’t remember if she said anything, just collected the boys and dried them off.

We lived on the property, above one of the stores and I left to print a few of the pictures off for her. This one is by far my favorite. Two little boys with their head in the water. I made it into an eight by ten and took it back down to her. She loved it! She turned it to her husband and said, “How could you ever hope to get a picture like this if you don’t let them play?”

Those parking lot water puddles made for hours of play and tons of pictures for this little piece of my heart. 

Andrew, our grandson. Kevin and Kandyce never discouraged play even when it sometimes made a mess.

“Messes are only for a moment and can be cleaned up,” they told me when I asked why they weren’t upset about the mess. “Happy memories last a lifetime.”

My happy place this week was spent on the patio working out a new idea I had for cutting out my giant ladybugs.

“What’s that?” you ask.

I decided I wanted to try to use my Dremel to cut the curves. For the most part it worked pretty well, but it makes a mess. After cutting the curves with the Dremel, I used the tin snips to make the straight cuts, then I had to soap and water wash the whole thing and let it dry before I could paint it.

I made it yellow.

“I’ve never seen a yellow ladybug,” Mike said.

“It’s my ladybug and I can make it any color I want!” I defended.

I made some small ladybugs from the scraps and decorated one with stars and one with hearts instead of dots.

I also made a bunch of tin can flowers this week, too. 

I was showing off my new creations to the waitress at breakfast one morning and she loves them so much she’s ordered three of them! My first sale!

My husband likes them so much he wants to keep them all. But he didn’t say that. What he said was, “You shouldn’t give any of them away. After you get this side full you could decorate the whole other side!”

I smiled. “My joy is in sharing the things I make.”

When I was spray painting, I was out in the middle of the yard close to the Glads. This guy, sitting on the edge of one spent flowers, caught my attention. He’s got something in his mouth, I think and went for my camera.

Just about the time I get back, he spits out whatever he’d been eating — I see it drop —and he took off. It was only a few seconds and he came back with another little something in his mouth. I didn’t know bees ate bugs, I thought and got as close as I could.

I guess he was feeling a little crowded because he took off — and landed on the other side of the Glads. I followed. The little bug he’s drinking seems to reflect whatever color he’s sitting on. It looks red in the first shot and yellow in the second, even though it’s the same bug.

Looking at this guy on my computer, I think he’s a Robber Fly and not a bee, but which specific Robber Fly he is, I don’t know.

And now for the road picture portion of my letter blog.

I told you that they took the cement barriers down and it looked like they were going to fix our road. Mike and I were surprised when the next time we go past, new barriers are in place. They just set them closer to the center line. “Why didn’t they just move the old ones over instead of hauling them out?” I wanted to know.

“It might have something to do with liability,” was the only guess Miss Rosie and Mike could come up with.

I see these trucks lined up along the road and wonder what they’re doing. 

Zoom in and it looks like the guy standing inside the yellow fence is looking down. Buried utility lines? Underground bunker? 

I saw hillsides covered with the invasive Purple Loosestrife.

Let’s end with a cute picture of Bondi. Every since she fell off the golf cart, I keep my hand on her when she lays behind the seat. In this picture she’s resting her head on my hand. 

Let’s call this one done!