Big Pile Of Dirt – Last Of The Dirt On Cousin Unrelated To Squirrel Edition

So some of you may have been wondering about the status of my big pile of dirt.  And one of you inquired about the status of the elderly, blind slightly senile cocker spaniel I occasionally watch.  Happily, the big pile of dirt is no more. Sadly, neither is the cocker spaniel. Fortunately, the dog’s demise did not happen under my watch. That would have been awful.

I would have updated you sooner on the big pile of dirt, but I got sidetracked by the dog death which freed up my Memorial Weekend allowing me to head out of town. Of course, I would have been out of town on the holiday weekend if the dog had not died because the dog lived out of town and I was supposed to watch him that weekend.  But instead of getting paid fifty bucks a night to watch a blind dog wander around a house bumping into things, I got to eat homemade though not made by a home, but made by me from ingredients that did not come premixed in a box coconut cake with seven minute frosting with my cousin and her sister who is also my cousin and her (the first cousin mentioned) child and grandchild. It wasn’t nearly as confusing as it may have sounded. But it was deliciously fun.

But before I left for the big weekend, I concluded my dirt shoveling. I had been wondering what to do with the last of the dirt as I had more than I needed when a friend called and asked if I had any dirt left. I said I did and she said she’d like to have it so I said come and get it. She and her husband came over and her husband and I shoveled the dirt into the back of his truck. It just about filled up the bed of the truck.

I have some post-dirt pictures of the completed beds. Now I just need to repair and extend the drip irrigation system. That’s my next project and I got the stuff I need to complete the project from the Drip Depot on Friday, so I hope to get that done before heading off to herd goats next week.

And in other though not completely unrelated news, the Friday morning of the Memorial Weekend I saw the bobcat kill a squirrel. It’s Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom out there with there being my backyard. I told my cousin (the first one, not the second one) and she was sad for the squirrel but I pointed out that bobcats have to eat, too.

So here are the pictures of the last of the dirt but not the bobcat because I don’t have a telephoto lens, but if I did you would be looking at a picture of a bobcat carrying a dead squirrel in its mouth as it headed back to the swamp.  Sadly, or happily, depending on how you feel about dead squirrels, all I have is pictures of dirt and flower beds and an egret.

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This is how it looked at the beginning of its last day. I had shoveled a bit of dirt between my last post and this picture but didn’t relate the details because there is just so much you can write about dirt.

This is what it looked like after all the shoveling was done. The shovel has lost its purpose. I'm a little sad for the shovel.

This is what it looked like after all the shoveling was done. The shovel has lost its purpose. I’m a little sad for the shovel.

This is the largest of the beds I created using the shoveled dirt, edging, mulch, plants and other stuff.

This is the largest of the beds I created using the shoveled dirt, edging, mulch, plants and other stuff.

This is the other side of the bed in the previous picture and yes, I know the side of the house needs to be cleaned. It's on my to do list. I hesitated to even show you  my dirty house but this post is about dirt and I like the palm shadows.

This is the other side of the bed in the previous picture and yes, I know the side of the house needs to be cleaned. It’s on my to do list. I hesitated to even show you my dirty house but this post is about dirt and I like the palm shadows.

This is another bed I added along the side of the house, plus you can see the bed I created around the palm trees.

This is another bed I added along the side of the house, plus you can see the bed I created around the palm trees.

This is a better picture of the palm bed. I planted a couple of tiny bougainvillea. I'm hoping they grow big and climb up the palm trees.

This is a better picture of the palm bed. I planted a couple of tiny bougainvillea. I’m hoping they grow big and climb up the palm trees.

This is a picture of the egret I took on the morning the squirrel met its demise in the mouth of the bobcat. I took this right before the squirrel killing. Sadly, or happily, depending on how you feel about photographers capturing the natural order of things, without a telephoto you wouldn't have been able to see the dead squirrel.

This is a picture of the egret I took on the morning the squirrel met its demise in the mouth of the bobcat. I took this right before the squirrel killing occurred. Sadly, or happily, depending on how you feel about photographers capturing the natural order of things, without a telephoto  lens you wouldn’t have been able to see the dead squirrel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Gumdrop Confronts Stage Fright And Exits Stage Right

So some of you may remember that I began tap lessons this past fall and I have been spending my Tuesday evenings learning to tap dance with five middle school girls. You may also recall that I decided early on not to participate with my class in the annual recital. Because I am not twelve. I did tell Ronnie, or Miss Ronnie as she is called by all of her students except me because, again, I am not twelve, that I would help at the recital and would do anything except dress, apply make up to or style the hair of small children.

I wouldn’t say I don’t like small children. I wouldn’t say I like them either. I’m like Switzerland. I’m neutral on the subject. I don’t spend much time around small children because I don’t find them endlessly fascinating. My fascination with them lasts about thirty minutes and then I’m ready to talk with an adult. Which is not to say you can’t have interesting conversations with first graders. I like to be very literal with them. I got to do that today when I conversed with a seven year old gumdrop.

Now, I’m not talking about a seven year old gumdrop you can eat because who would keep a gumdrop that long and I don’t talk to inanimate objects except for those times when I do. But this was not an inanimate object. It was  a seven year old girl dressed in her gumdrop costume for the gumdrop number that was danced to what sounded like polka music. I had half of the gumdrops lined up ready to go on the stage.

Seven year old gumdrop (SYOG): Me and Kayla have stage fright.

Me: You shouldn’t be afraid of the stage.

SYOG: That’s not what it means. It means afraid of the audience.

Me: That would be audience fright. But you don’t need to be afraid of the audience either because you have that big stage between you and the audience.

The SYOG was speechless. I also like to think I cured her stage or audience fright because she performed as well as one would expect seven year olds with short attention spans to perform.

The reason I was lining gumdrops up on the side of the stage was because a couple of weeks ago Ronnie asked if I would be willing to help at the recital and I said of course and she said good and that I was going to be the Right Stage Manager and she would explain everything at the dress rehearsal. I thought that seemed like an easy job. After all, the stage doesn’t move and I don’t even have to manage all of it. Just the right side. I think I can do this.

And apparently, I can, because the dress rehearsal was today and there were no major mishaps or mishaps of any kind on the right side of the stage. I passed out and collected props, lined up gumdrops and forest pixies and disco mice in the wings and even had to collect the disco mice ears mid routine as they ran off stage before running back out to do somersaults which apparently cannot be done while wearing disco mice ears.

And when the dress rehearsal concluded I collected all the props and laid them out on the table to be ready for tomorrow’s performance. So if all goes well tomorrow, I can list Right Stage Manager on my resume along with goat herder.

 

 

 

I’ll Never Tell Except When I Do

So it has been awhile since last I posted and I never thought that I would be posting about ‘never’ which is just like ‘ever’ except it begins with a different letter and has a negative vibe unless you’re using it to show moral judgement in which case, just stop doing that because nobody likes it. Of course, you might be thinking my previous sentence was judgmental and filled with moral ambiguity, and you might be right about that, but you would be missing the point which I may not have clearly articulated so I really cannot fault you for missing it. (Though does ‘articulate’ only apply to spoken words, because if it does I may have to find a new word for my non-spoken words, but just in case it only applies to spoken words, you should go back and read my previous sentence out loud.) My point, and I do have one, is that I never wanted to write about my feelings about never and I wouldn’t have except the ever tricky Daily Prompt prompted me to do it. More specifically it challenged one and all to

Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about.

Of course, by telling the world what you would never tell us you are in fact telling us about it so it cannot really be done this telling of a thing you would never tell. And therein lies the problem  and not just as it relates to non-Whovian time travel. The problem is the eternal not everness  of the definition of never which I believe is a contraction of ‘not’ and ‘ever’ which eventually lost its apostrophe much like we lose our virginity though without the fun of having sex – an immaculate contraction conception, if you will and I believe I just did. Of course, I may be wrong about the etymology of ‘never’ but not the definition.

Not ever is a very long time to not do something. No matter what you may think you would never do, you never know until you find yourself in that position of having to make that choice. That’s not to say I never say never.  I say ‘Never say never’ quite often, usually when someone is telling me that they will never do something. I do endeavor not to say never as it relates to something I may or may never do. Because you just never know.

 

 

Big Pile Of Dirt – Day After Yesterday If Yesterday Was Wednesday Edition

So just to be clear we have not entered a time warp or traveled in the TARDIS although I always thought I would make a great TARDIS companion but not a companion for the TARDIS but a companion in the TARDIS. Instead, I am writing this a couple of days after I intended to write it but like some intentions and best laid plans, I was too pooped to pop out any clever  bon mots or mots of any kind on the day after Wednesday because that was a day of extreme dirt shoveling.

I’m not sure my bon mot popping is any better in a non-pooped state, so I’ll just get right to the point because I am losing battery power quickly and I”m not even battery operated though I occasionally operate things with batteries and one of those things is my laptop. So on to the pictures that tell the real story as every picture does and these pictures will tell a story of progress.

After three hours of dirt shoveling, the Big Pile Of Dirt is starting to look like a Small Pile of Dirt.

After three hours of dirt shoveling, the Big Pile Of Dirt is starting to look like a Small Pile of Dirt.

From this angle, it looks even smaller which means that not only is everything relative, it also depends on your angle of relative distance to everything.

From this angle, it looks even smaller which means that not only is everything relative, it also depends on your angle of relative distance to everything or in this case, just to the pile of dirt.

 

 

Because Sometimes You Have To Get A Little Dirty

So some of you, or possibly only one of you, may have been wondering about the status of the big pile of dirt since last I recounted dirt filled tales. I am happy to report that the big pile of dirt is approximately half its original size though unchanged since my last dirty report.

Because I haven’t been shoveling dirt lately. Because when people say it’s a jungle out there they might be talking about parts of my yard. Because the area that the remainder of the dirt is destined for is still in its uncleared, vine choked state. Because I was slow in getting bids to clear the vines. Because I am reluctant to do the vine clearing myself. Because some of the vines are poison ivy or have nasty thorns, not to mention the possibility of encountering snakes of the venomous kind of which three kinds have been sighted in or near my yard. Because I hate doing that sort of thing with that sort of thing being both dangerous vine clearing and getting bids to clear dangerous vines.

I took a chance in the previous paragraph and used a literary device known as beginning every sentence with ‘because’ because I figured you might have questions and I would read your collective minds though I know I say just above the comment box that I don’t read minds but sometimes I think maybe I can, so I did, and then I answered them but without writing out the questions because you were already thinking them and that would be redundant, so you’re welcome for the lack of redundancy. Now the bids have been gathered and the tree people (though not the Treebeard tree people) will be here Wednesday to do all the clearing of vines and trees that pose a danger to the house and then dirt shoveling will resume.

In other news, I spent the previous 24 hours with my best friend for what may be the last time as he is moving 1320 miles away on Thursday and we won’t see each other again before then. I’m bummed but not sad. I think the sadness might hit later. But we did have a good time yesterday afternoon and last night and this morning. We ended our time together with a motorcycle ride. Top speed for a very short stretch  – 105 mph – woohoo!

I wanted to have a picture of him on his bike, but he wanted to take a picture of me on his bike, so this is me on his bike.

I wanted to have a picture of him on his bike, but he wanted to take a picture of me on his bike, so this is me on his bike. I know it almost looks like I’m riding it, but I’m not. He wanted me to stand the bike up and balance on it but I couldn’t because it weighs a ton or felt like it did and I’m a very little person, but not a dwarf.