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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my ten year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Skeeters, and Possums, and Bats, Oh Deer!

I'm not sure how it happened, but my "garden" has gone from the breakfast bar of a pair of Mourning Doves and a family of three Cardinals to the tight-rope walk of a Possum and the  presumed final resting spot of a Bat.

Every year I see the birds and tell myself I'm going to have a garden for them. And every year I fail to follow thru...until this year. I finally remembered. I bought about $100 of well established draught resistant, sun-loving wildflowers only to have them disintegrate in the Texas heat. Each and every plant received the, "I'm sorry. You were chosen because you are strong and hearty and have a much better chance than your  peers at surviving my gardening inexperience" speech. They died during the ten days I was visiting family in Florida and Alicia and I went to Jazz Fest in NOLA. That was the death of my first garden of the season.

I bought more plants. I said more speeches. I was on to the second garden of the season.  I left the plants in pots that I could move around the garden to see where they liked it best. They not only survived longer than the first garden, they have actually made it through another trip to Florida, albeit a shorter one.  A couple have lost their flowers and a couple have lost their lives--well almost (they are slowly turning browner--and it's not because of Coppertone).  But for the most part they actually look like they may in fact survive. I got so excited, I planted several. In real planters. With real potting soil. The kind that says it will help me to not over water. And not under water. I'm thinking this is some pretty smart potting soil. I even tried my hand at planting multi-plant (mixed) pots. So far in every multi-plant pot, one plant is on it's death bed. But that means 2-3  plants in each pot is surviving!  The pots are 2/3 and 3/4 full!!!! Just call me positive-Pollyanna.

So, the reason I'm attempting to be a green-thumb? I enjoy the birds. Unfortunately, they are apparently boycotting my garden....I bought a bird feeder, and a humming bird nectar feeder and nectar,  only to have a fat little-pot-bellied squirrel--who I have never seen in my yard before, but who I'm sure has enjoyed more than his fair share of my lard encased bird seed--bless me out...royally!  I guess he wanted more sunflowers in the bird feed. The sunflower seeds are always the first to go.  I bought a squirrel feeder and huge bag of corn to appease the obese little bugger.  I also decided to sow  some grass seed--at 3am.  I thought I heard thunder  rumbling and we were slated to rain all weekend. I was planning to be on my way to Florida directly after work, and the rain would mean I wouldn't have to water the seed, so I sowed grass seed in my nightgown, by the shared light of the flashlight and the moon. My neighbors are used to my antics by now.

The only time I have been bitten by mosquitoes or flies this season, was at dusk, in Louisiana and Mississippi--in the Henderson Swamp and on a Bayou.  And quite frankly, the skeeters and flies were larger than some crocs.  With this in mind, I wanted to be able to enjoy my garden after dark--or at least as the sun went down, so I bought 6 solar lights last year (in preparation for my non-existent garden). Three of them didn't work. I bought an upgraded one this year. It doesn't work. I was even prepared for the non-existent Texas skeeters with an insect repelling citronella candle. I bought new cushions for my chair, placed a large stone for a foot stool, added a couple of tables and a ice chest, and placed a dog bowl for Bandit to drink water from. I was garden-relaxation-ready.

The end result of my garden experience this year: the promised rain never came. A mean Blue Jay who  I've never seen (either before or since) ate the grass seed. The Cardinals have only been back once. The Squirrel--or something (but I'm not sure what)--has eaten the birdseed and drunk the nectar. Only 7 kernels of the corn are missing after being out there for two weeks--but two days in a row the holder has been knocked off the wall. Two nights ago a Possum walked the top of my fence--I looked up and there he was within jumping distance of my head--and me without food to appease him or a weapon with which to defend Bandit and myself. And evidently the mosquitoes believe the citronella candle to be a welcome beacon because though scarce prior to lighting it, they now flock to it--in droves that rival the cloud of filth that follows Schroeder around.  Then last night, Bandit and I had spent a relaxing evening while he stared intently transfixed at the neighbors tree--the one I now believe the possum to be sitting in...watching us...plotting.  When I heard the flopping, and saw the moving shadow by the fence, I thought it might be a toad. Now the red toads in Florida are poisonous, so I didn't want Bandit tangling with a toad.  I was also remembering my neighbor telling me just that afternoon that he had seen the possum and a huge lizard. Not knowing the poison rating of huge Texas lizards, I went to investigate the flopping shadow...it was a bat. Flopping and fluttering on the ground. I wanted to reach out and right it, but I was afraid of rabies, so I left it there. When it started to rain, I didn't go make sure it was not drowning.  I still left it there. To live or die on it's own. It was gone this morning when I took Bandit out to go potty. There was no trace of it having been there, so if another animal got it, they took it off or consumed it in toto.

Oh, yeah, the mean Blue Jay missed a few grass-seeds so  there are a few blades of baby grass sprouting here and there--I'm kind of psyched about that. As for the Deer--they haven't made it across main street to my garden...yet...but I saw two the the other morning in the field. Less than 20 feet from my tender baby grass, salad bar of flowers, and squirrel-corn. I expect the Deer to join the other animal diners any night now. 

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