True Dirt

newts and angel dust

One dead bird, a baby mouse, a salamander (technically, a newt). That's the death count for the garden so far this summer. The only one of the deceased I actually saw in the cat's mouth was the mouse. But it appeared to have already expired by the time I "rescued" it. The bird might have hit the window or succumbed to who knows what. Where do old birds die? The newt deceived me for an entire 24 hours. I noticed it in the large water bowl I regularly fill up and which serves as the mammal watering hole for the backyard. It's eyes were open and newts do hang out in the bottom of creeks during the summer.

That was my wishful scenario. I am fond of the newts. They live under the big terra cotta pots in the winter and I've seen their babies under the pile of old wood decking stacked on the driveway. I don't see them in summer and assumed they were hibernating underground--like toads do. But the tree guy inadvertently squished one when he moved the big chunk of cement serving as a gate stoop by the side of the house. And now the newt death toll is 2 for the year. Newt No. 2 went into the compost bin with the recently deceased mouse.

On a brighter note, Rich's gift of the Angel Dust dahlia has bloomed. It is a stunning pale cream and white double-petaled affair that looks like a lotus. I picked one and set it on the kitchen table so I could admire it's perfection.

talking to myself

I'm not sure where Richard is these days.....lost in the fog? Speaking of which, the last two weeks have been cold and overcast here. My roses are white with mildew. Isn't that supposed to happen when it's WARM and damp? In spite of the cool there is no moisture in the soil so I have that worst of garden conditions: shady and dry.

Thank the goddess for marigolds. If it weren't for their shout-out-loud yellows and oranges the garden would be a complete downer. To complete the dreary picture of grey skies and damp winds a couple of crows have moved in and their ominous croaking and flapping overhead is even scaring the cat--usually salivating at the local birdlife.

And to this depressing scenario you can add thuggery and thieving by the local squirrel gang. After caging half the garden plants to prevent them digging up everything in a random search for peanuts (where do they get them?!), I discover they've been chewing the bark off the trees--magnolia, lemon, oak, and the wisteria.

And they're stealing. I found a ball of unwound twine hanging on the fence yesterday, the packaged spool stuck in a rose bush. I put it back in the shed thinking I'd forgotten it after tying up some droopy rose canes. This morning I walk out the back door and catch one of the squirrels clutching a huge wad of tangled twine to its chest while attempting to run up the fence. A hard thing to do on three legs. And the spool is rolling away down the hill.

I took pity on him. Even though I'm really pissed at the gang. I got my kitchen scissors and cut the string from the spool. The squirrel tore off when he saw me coming with the shears. But the wad-o-twine was gone by afternoon.

Now I'm thinking about what that squirrel is doing with the twine. Some evil plot the gang has dreamed up, I'm sure.