From the back porch

I should beg your pardon for the vulgar language in my previous post. 

You see, I had come in from a long day of working in the yard, had showered and changed clothes, and had about 30 minutes to kill until time to meet some relatives for dinner, so I sat down to chronicle that day’s accomplishments and write out my “to do” list for the next day.  I’d finished a long post – my usual whiny bull – and somewhere between the finish and the upload, I lost the whole thing.  (Query:  How does one manage to LOSE things in this golden age of computers?) 

Anyway, the thought of re-writing all that garbage was more than I could bear.  So I condensed it down to a few essential thoughts.  Hence, the crude language. 

I apologize.

Like you give a sh*t.  ;)

I didn’t plan much yard activity for this past weekend.  The Husband has a sinus infection, and you know how men are when they’re sick.  :-\   So I thought we’d just take it easy, sit around, and maybe think up things to do NEXT weekend.  We even ran the grandchildren off, thinking he’d feel too badly to fool with them.  However, he went to the doctor on Friday afternoon and got a prescription for antibiotics and a steroid, and after that second dose on Saturday morning, he suddenly turned into Norm Abrams.  Caught him wearing a toolbelt, and everything.  We installed some vinyl on the boards that go around the top of the back porch (that thing has a name, but I don’t know what it is).  He worked on the lawnmower, got it running, mowed Nanny’s yard.  Gloria and I tilled up a trench along the length of the driveway and the front sidewalk, and I planted daffodils in it.  Did some raking.  Washed off the front porch. 

Too bad he runs out of steroids before next weekend.  ;)

We are battling a critter.  It’s eating my lettuce and broccoli plants.  Past tense.  Has already eaten.  The Husband came home from Nanny’s with a live trap, and set it beside the bed that used to have lettuce in it.  Baited it with fresh sliced squash.  Apparently, the critter doesn’t like fresh sliced squash, or maybe he just remembers that he’s already eaten everything over there.  In any case, the trap has not been sprung.  We’ve discussed what we are going to do if the critter turns out to be a skunk; there seems to be no easy way out of that predicament.  A bunny, a raccoon, or a ‘possum, we might relocate, or maybe even try to critter-proof the bed.  But if it’s an armadillo (as we suspect), it’s toast.  See ya.

Wasps are invading my back porch sanctuary.  We kill several out here every day.  Have I told you that I am terrified of wasps?  Ten minutes ago, I nearly broke my ankle trying to get away from one that kept coming close to my chair and had to be dispatched.  I tried to whack him with the flyswatter, but missed, and he went on the offensive and came at me.  I got away unscathed, except for knocking my ankle on the rocker, and then I tuned him up with some wasp spray.  Now I see another one flying above the rafters.  If he lands anywhere within a 27-foot radius (according to this can), I’ve got a little something for him.