Humidity, Humility

My iris are starting to bloom, as well as the tiger lilies. The day lilies have gone nuts with yellow everywhere.

I can't wait to see this lily bloom, it will have NINE blooms! I have the stem propped already.

Two years ago these maple trees were just twigs. I can't believe how big they are now. Look at that precious shade.

The humidity has been nasty. My youngest daughter used to call it humility. Kind of fits, if you think about it. Sweat is humbling. Hard to be too full of yourself with sweat trickling from every pore of your body.

He Who Procrastinates ......

My internet fix was short lived. I have not been able to get on-line for more than 5 minutes at a time before it bumps me off all weekend. Keeping my sweaty fingers crossed ......

The humidity is insane. Weeding all morning before it started to rain. I seem to have weeds in my weeds. I stacked firewood before the weekend began, in order to mow. The log splitter is set up adjacent to the wood pile. One would think that it would be an easy task to stack the split wood on the existing wood pile.

Last time we had some trees down, He Who wields a chainsaw and he little buddy (I refer to them as Fred and Barney) unceremoniously dumped the logs in the middle of a grassy area. I "mentioned" my displeasure several times. I am the mower of that area, as it is small and would be difficult to maneuver on the rider. I do not like tall grass unless I have planted it deliberately. It looks like a snake-filled hazard. I was told on numerous occasion that they "would get to it".

They never did and I moved each and every piece myself. Logs are round and they will roll. I stacked what could be stacked and had a nice pile next to the splitter. I carefully mower the foot high grass and it has even started to fill-in the bare spots. Then came the tornado and we lost some trees. Fred and Barney went out with trailer and the chainsaw. Did they follow my lead and neatly stack this new batch of logs to be split? No, they did not.

In addition to that, they had split a stack of logs before the bad weather. Three men were on this splitting task. You know how boys will flock to the sound of a gasoline engine and want to play. I suggested that they stack the split wood onto the wood pile. My suggestion fell on deaf ears as they all joined in and started handing logs to the splitter and seeming to take much pleasure in tossing the split wood hither and thither, nowhere near the wood pile, but on the grass. They ended up with an unsightly pile in sort of an hourglass configuration ........ on the grass. To add insult to injury, this blob of split firewood was then covered with an old bill board banner, printed side up. It was lovely.

It was covered to keep it dry. Seemed like a good idea. But, that would be under normal circumstances and not the torrential downpours of late. The water lay in puddles under this make-shift tarp ( We have lots of tarps in our possession. Plain tarps that don't advertise in letters as big as I am.). The water was trapped under there and as the temperature and humidity rose it sort of steamed the wood and kept it moist.

So, I suppose we all know who removed the offending bill board banner and stacked the wood carefully on the wood pile while sliding around in the resulting mud. And that brings me to my new irritation.

We have a fire hose that is used to fill the pool. Three of them as a matter of fact. I don't know if any of you know this, but a fire hose is heavy! I can lift one on my own. Especially if I am mad and determined. But two hooked together is just not possible. It takes two to reach the pool when connected to the hydrant. They are locked together and so far no one has been able to disconnect them.

After the filling of the pool, I always am eager to get this up and put away. He Who is supposed to be in charge of all things pool related is never as eager as I am. He prefers to let it lay there "a day or two" so that it dries out and is lighter. Every year I nag incessantly. It always rains on the hose, defeating the purpose of the "day or two to dry out". I always end up rolling it up to the sidewalk next to the restrooms and then trying to pick it up.

"Don't do that, you will hurt yourself." I hear this every year. The pool has been filled for nearly a month. And guess where the fire hose sits all coiled up? No, you are wrong. As of this morning it is now on the hand truck and later today, I will roll it around to it's storage place.

The dynamic duo are laying sewer line today. I suppose I could have a nastier chore to do. This will not stop me from pointing out that, had this been done when I asked, it would not have been an issue. You would think that after nearly 40 years, he would have figured out that I am always right.

Just a Walk in the Park

I keep finding flowers I forgot I planted. Every time I go to WalMart, I visit the plants. I find myself pinching dead leaves and withered vines. Can't seem to help myself. I admire all the blooms and always end up in the back corner where the rejects are. I call it the rescue corner. Where all the strays go. And this is not a no-kill facility. So, I rescue some. I try to stick to perennials. I plant them after I dead head them and tell myself what they are and will myself to remember ......... and promptly forget. It has gotten to the point that I am afraid to weed, lest I yank out something I planted.

 

This garden is five years old and has filled in.

 

My tiny asparagus plot is not doing as well as I'd like, but is still turning out tasty spears.

My favorite kind of flower pot. I was going to just say "pot", but was afraid that sounded illegal. These are pinks. I only know that because one of my friends told me. Like always, I forgot the name as soon as I planted it. I have since put some other flowers in the top .... the name escapes me. Go figure. But, they are lovely.

He Who loves me bought a surprise! Does this man know me or what? This bad boy can haul 300 feet of hose from hydrant to hydrant. Never again will you see me fill a 5 gallon bucket with water and heave it onto the golf cart, then slosh my way to a garden plot on the far reaches of the park!

Lovely lilies. Given to me from camper buddies, Butch and April. They add a lot of color to my yard. I may have to bake them a little treat next time they camp.

My weekend has started early and looks like it will be a busy one.

Snapper and Sprint

Meet Snapper. He was just roaming around the grounds as we started the Memorial Day weekend. He is covered in dried mud, giving him a prehistoric demeanor. Check out the size of those feet!

He Who has a tender heart for all creatures, even snakes (but definitely not muskrat), grabbed his trusty shovel to load Snapper onto his truck and give him a ride to the state park and the river.

Snapper proved to be a bit disagreeable about relocating, but we don't want him in our pond feeding on our delicate baby bass.

He even rolled over in an attempt to avoid the transport. When he started snapping his jaws together and I realized just how agile he was, I stopped taking pictures and moved out of his way. I did not know he could flip over and land on his feet! He looked like a four footed sumo wrestler in a very aggressive stance. I retreated to the office and left He Who catches snakes and such to deal with our unwanted guest.

Who is Sprint? You may be wondering about the title. Sprint is our Internet provider. Sprint promised to fix our problems and they did!!! I can download pictures and publish comments.

More Precious Than Gold

Another weekend come and gone. A birthday party with nine little girls was scheduled for Saturday. Nine little squealing, giggling girls. They made good use of the pool. The mom and grandmother will have earned their rest this week. As the sun lowered in the sky they came into the office to hear the story of Mr. Martha.

I was happy to oblige, as we all know I love to tell a good story to a captive audience. They oohed and aahed at the right moments in the story and all wished that they had been here to see the tiny kitten feed from a bottle. And, of course, they all wanted to hold him. Mr. Martha is a very friendly cat and does love to wind between one's ankles so much so that the receiver of his affection will find it difficult to walk. He likes a good ear scratch, like all felines and allows me to hold him like a baby when we have one of our talks.

But, that is me, the one who fed him and cleaned him and nurtured him. He was outside, as is his habit. He sleeps all day and roams all night. Thankfully he has stopped laying a gift of squirrel corpse on the steeping stone in the garden right outside my window. We had a nice long chat about this and he knows that I do not appreciate such gifts.

So, nine excited little girls went out into the park after the story and I could hear them calling, "Martha, Martha". Martha responded at first, but I am told he fled after much handling and hid from his admirers. Mr. Martha is a very smart cat.

First thing Saturday morning, I picked the dwindling strawberries and discovered that new blooms were forming. I had given some plants to Miss Martha (not a cat, but the inspiration for the cat's name), I pick her berries during the week and had taken note of what she would be able to harvest over the weekend. Since she had her grandchildren with her, I decided to supplement her harvest.

I was just walking up to her site when I saw the oldest, Lauren, crying with a bloody paper towel held to her thumb. A bike accident on the gravel road. I am betting she put her hand out to brace herself and the thumb skidded on the rocks. It looked awful, but was only skin. Nothing to be done, didn't need stitches, just a good cleaning and neosporin and some bandaids. Tom and Martha were both in a tizzy and I was happy to take over. Lauren stopped crying when I said there was no need for stitches. I played nurse and she was left with lots of bandaids on her road rash.

So, it got me to thinking. About the role of grandparents and how scary we find it to have the sole responsibility of our children's children. When my own children were growing up, they had all the bumps and cuts that kids get and I found myself to be quite capable of caring for them without panic. I usually knew what they were up to and where they were, but they were not always in my sight. Times were different then (long, long ago).

When I have the responsibility of my grandchildren, I am afraid to let them out of my line of vision. I love to have them, but I do not realize how alert I am until I turn them back over to their parents and feel the tension ease. I suppose if I had that responsibility on a regular basis I might feel differently, but I am not sure about that. What is more precious than a grandchild?

Morning Coffee

I was going to add some pictures to this, but my Internet is moving so very slowly today. I think the wind that mangled my billboard also affected the cell tower nearby. I think I will be calling Sprint later today.

I overslept this morning. That's not true, I wasn't actually sleeping. I woke at my usual hour to find that I had been sleeping with my arm flung over my head and my head turned to the side with my ear folded against my head. It was my right arm, with the arthritic elbow and thumb. I carefully moved it to my side and decided to lie there until the throbbing stopped. I unfolded my ear and kept my eyes shut, trying to fool Toni Louise into thinking it was still night-night time.

She was not fooled, but played along. She carefully inched closer and laid her sweet head on my neck, her whiskers tickling my chin. I heard Wall-E pacing on the floor, anxious to go out. Oscar was content to stay in bed with me. He Who could sleep through an invasion was blissfully unaware of all this activity going on.

Wall-E's pacing encouraged Toni to crawl onto my chest and dig her bony elbows into my neck, cutting off my air supply, while she investigated my now open eyeballs. You will recall that Toni Louise has an eyeball fetish. I gave up and got up.

As I was gently carrying Oscar, the fat old dachshund towards the back door to set his short legs down in the grass, the phone rang and I put him on the floor to answer it. I opened the door to the back yard to let the dogs out while talking on the phone. Thinking I had let three dogs out, I went to the coffee maker while still on the phone.

Coffee making accomplished, I turned to see that Oscar had not gone out after all and he had peed on my kitchen floor. Not a good way to start the day.

Yesterday I was up early, after promising the nice lady in the pop-up that I would brew coffee in the office for her. I stumbled out and made the coffee before I even got dressed. The dogs were all fed and back out again by 7 am. I unlocked the office door and took a little stroll along the front of the building as I sipped my first cup of coffee. I looked toward the campsite to discover my coffee drinking camper had already gone!

I suppose she got coffee elsewhere.

Cleaned Up and Puzzled

This little guy rode the storm out tucked in above the night drop box. He looks none the worse for it.

The swirling rain washed gravel everywhere. We had just had 4 loads brought in.

The rain thundered down and actually lifted railroad ties and created gullies in the sites and roads.

This site was common throughout the park.

The pool chairs were blown around, but managed to stay inside the fence.

And in the pool.

It is mostly cleaned up now. Today was a perfect day. The temperature was mild and the sun was shining. I did the prep mowing, then spent the afternoon painting signs. I primed both sides and painted one side of each of the 7 new signs. Tomorrow I will get the other sides painted and then letter them on Wednesday.

I managed to get my laundry done and cooked, too! I am feeling very accomplished tonight.
Just one thing puzzled me today. Well, that's not quite true. I ponder many things in a day's time; but this one has me baffled.

While cleaning the bathrooms, I was initially annoyed at the bugs inside and muttered to myself about how difficult it must be to flip the light off and close the door. This is a running theme, though. Happens all the time. The mud puddle in front of the sink did little to thrill me. The trash can had a whole roll of paper towels in it. I dumped it into the liner from the men's room and noticed that the towels were all attached, but wet. Like someone pulled them all off the roll to use them to towel off with. You know, like they forgot to bring a towel.

I can usually figure out what may have happened and why .......... most of the time. But, as I scoured the sink I noticed something I have never encountered before. We recently replaced the faucet in this bathroom and I cannot begin to come up with a reason for someone removing the pieces that covers the top of the knobs, indicating hot and cold.

Were they planning to steal them for some bizarre craft project? Perhaps they simply wondered what was under them? No, I can think of no crafty thing to do with these innocuous disks that indicate hot and cold. They are clear and you can see through them, so no mystery to uncover. I am stumped!