It’s been a bit rainy lately and mushrooms have proliferated throughout the yard. So, the Gnomes and I took a tour.
I have hereby officially found all the items I lost during my many months of memory loss. I even found my black jeans which have been missing for nine months. Now that my brain has returned from an alternate reality, remind me not to refill my prescription for Topamax.
I wanted to make a rain chain for Brenda’s birthday, so I started gathering all sorts of stuff
There was a bucket of rocks languishing behind the toolshed.
At first I thought I’d use rocks, but I was really lame at wrapping rocks in wire. I actually bought a diamond drill bit so I could drill holes through them and send the wire through, but it was painfully slow and I planned to use A Lot O’ Rocks. Then I rediscovered this box of wooden things.
Doesn’t everyone have a box of wooden things? Prolly not.
And these rascals had pre-drilled holes. Amazing.
This’ll work. Pre-rusted, too.
Tools. Preferably pre-rusted. They work better that way. (I looked it up on Google.) Those keys would also make an interesting rain chain.
The wire went neatly through the wood, then I wrapped it around something several times to make a pigtail.
Happy Birthday, Brenda.
So I decided to pop outside for a few minutes this morning and it was a bit wet, so grabbed the boots near the door. But when it came time to remove them, they wouldn’t budge. So I had to resort to a bit of canola oil to coax the boots and my feet to part ways.
So I was outside working and sweating and cleaning up the yard and mowing (had to change the mower oil first) and sweating and trimming. It might have been time to quit for the day . . . or not. So, I sat down in a lawn chair to ponder. And I saw a bluebird. I’ve never seen one here before. Apparently, the answer was to quit for the day because had I been mowing, I’d have missed that rascal.
If he sticks around — I assume they’re nesting somewhere nearby — I’ll get a picture.
Here I am, just getting warmed up explaining my problem to the Support Agent and I hear the dreaded words: “Is there anything else I can help you with?” I feel like the Ralph Fiennes character in the movie In Bruges. Ralph has a thing for smashing inanimate objects.
Weather for this entire spring has been like living on the equator. Every day is 58 degrees, partly cloudy, a few rain showers and brutal wind. It’s been that way for a month. I’ve always thought that living in a place where the weather is the same from day to day must be boring. How do you even begin to talk to strangers if the weather isn’t a suitable topic?
But SATURDAY was a different species altogether. Waking was cold, but it got warmer and warmer until it ended up right up there in the hot category. I even sought the shade in front of Donna and Craig Roesler’s when I found them out repairing their dock and stopped in for a chat. Not much better than boat meetings on the lake and talking to friends.
I actually got sunburned. Poor winter-wrinkly skin. Hasn’t seen the light of day since last September. Annnnd I didn’t catch anything. It’s usually handy to have a fishing rod when one is fishing. I packed ALL the essentials, but forgot my rods? But I had a nice long cruise down the lake. I did go back to the house to retrieve the wayward rods, but meanwhile, the wind came up and when I arrived at my lucky Walleye Spot, the anchors wouldn’t hold.
The Cubs were playing an afternoon game, so I decided to watch that instead of battling the breeze. There’s always another day to fish.
It’s a bit difficult to see what it says so look closely.
if he’d had a video camera.
This is usually the first lake to lose its ice in spring, which is a huge advantage for Duck Fans. Waterfowl come in all colors and shapes. They do mating dances and posturing to see who’s getting the female with the best attributes — whatever those look like to a male duck.
For years, I’ve wondered how the male mergansers keep their eveningwear so white. Perhaps they’re looking for the female with the laundry detergent that’s best at getting dinginess out of their tuxedos. For the ducks somehow maintain brilliant white feathers while swimming on the tannin-colored water beneath them.