It is 4am. My sinuses are freaked out and hurting my teeth. It is hot and I can’t sleep. Now that I am done stalking all of you and your blogs I figured I would post one of the 7 entries that I have written in my head and collected photos of during my 2 week blogging hiatus.
I live in suburbia. Small town suburbia. On a street with lots of little old lady neighbors. My yard is not very big. Like maybe a sixth of an acre. Hell it is small enough for me to afford a biweekly yard boy. He barely used the mower on it. And I still have room for a garden, a carport and lots of room for the dogs. This week my yard has become a sixth acre of wild kingdom.
Sid would argue that it has always been this way. Everyday he darts into the yard to do his inspection and talks about every inch of grass. My neighbors must hate me, because he shouts it to the world. And he is loud. He is a beagle bassett mix bred for hunting. He was surrendered because they thought he was dull. He has been proving them wrong ever since. He caught 2 baby possums last spring. Okay, they basically walked into his mouth, but his reenactment told a totally different story. He was so proud.
So here is my photo log of this weeks urban wilderness:
I always wondered what was hatching in these things. I have about a dozen of them on my fence.
I have not had my porch ferns for 2 weeks before the birds moved in. Unfortunately I did not realize they were there when I dumped a pitcher full of water into the nest. They weren’t too happy about the photo opp either.
I am phobic over snakes. I mean phobic. So is Mike. He came across one in the wood pile this week.
I know garden snakes are good snakes. Did I mention how phobic I am? Jimmy suggested the next time we find one, put it in a duffle bag and call him to come get it…Phobic, people. Phobic as hell. Next time I’ll be calling Jimmy and asking him to bring his own duffle bag.