Let's Play Catch Up, Shall We?

First of all, I'm sorry. I hate it when my favorite bloggers don't blog, and, not that I'm anyone's favorite blogger, I really should do better. Of course, I'm not going to make any promises either...sorry (again...I just need to shut up already...)

First of all, there's a new gnome in town. His name is Sean. Sean has a distinctive way of speaking...all his s's come out as sh's. (If you're wondering if I've completely lost my mind, you need to refer back to the Changes in Latitudes post.) Sean came to us all the way from Colorado (thank you to those responsible). He's probably glad he got the hell out of town.You will also note that Sean is not in the tree. We figured he'd live longer if he didn't have far to fall (or be pushed).

If you look closely you'll be able to discern that there is in fact a logo on Sean's pointy little hat, and he is holding a football.This should give you some idea where our NFL loyalties lie. Although, in this part of the world there aren't very many opportunities to watch these games in high-def (stinkin' Falcons!)...but there is the internet!

We also have another new resident in the forest.

 

This is Eddie. At the time this was taken, Eddie was not much bigger than the cat. While his mom (we shall call her Felicia) foraged in the field by our yard, Eddie came to relax right by the fence. I managed to get within a few feet of him. Since this picture was taken, Eddie has broadened his horizons by venturing across the road, getting himself stuck in the kudzu and having to be rescued by Felicia. Never a dull moment at The Hermitage!

Progress has been made on the pond...

Ignore that blurry part at the top...my hair was, as usual, out of control. This is the upper pond. The seating area still needs to be finished....also, right behind the chairs is a rock garden planted with sedum, ice plants, columbine, a few daisy-like plants and some other creeping thing of which I do not know the name.

 

Stream looking down from the upper pond. You can see the lower pond at the top of the photo.

 

Lower pond. Note Sean's more secure position. The bug will probably be relocated. All those plants between the rocks are intentional. They have little tiny purple flowers that look like forget-me-nots...just much, much smaller. Don't ask me what they are...I have no memory for such things.

Right after downloading these pictures I stood up and saw a cardinal splashing around in the stream. Of course, when I opened the door he flew off. The birds love the stream, and we were entertained one evening watching a young Titmouse try to figure out exactly how he should go about it getting his feet wet. I now have a new mission...to catch the birds on video.

Tomorrow I will be jetting off to a far away, and much cooler (both literally and figuratively) land, to spend a few days with the other love of my life. Right now I'm all fidgety and butterfly-y...I get this way before a big trip...little known fact about me...I hate flying, not because I'm scared, but because I hate the whole process...the rules, the attitude, the being crammed into a 2 x 2 box for 5 1/2 hours. Don't get me wrong...I can't wait for the destination...it makes the journey so worthwhile. I'm sure I'll have many adventures to report...and I will.

Trouble Afoot...

So, we have this tree. The gnarly old Bradford pear which I have previously referred to as the "giving tree", because of the multiple bird feeders festooning its branches.The "giving tree" split in half one fateful day, leaving a nice little ledge in which to place things...

like garden gnomes.

More specifically, Henry and Helga. A chubby little gnome couple, blissfully in love. A lovely golden, heart-shaped locket dangling from Henry's hand. I'd show you pictures, but I can't.

Now because this tree is festooned with bird feeders, it also attracts attracts squirrels.
Squirrels make my husband crazy...
Think groundhogs in Caddyshack.

There have been a lot of attacks on squirrels lately.
Attacks, which may have resulted in squirrels temporarily becoming dog toys.
Just saying...

Anyway, so I come home from work today.
Feed the dog, pick up the mail, check out the pond...
and I notice that something is awry.

Upon closer investigation I find this...

and this...

Gnome body parts strewn across the stream...some unaccounted for...Henry has a gaping hole in his abdomen and Helga's throat is MIA, along with her spleen...(if garden gnomes had such things.)

So I ask you...
is this just the result of hijinks among the wild things of the Appalachian foothills, or
is there something more sinister at work here...


like revenge?



Mr. B better watch his back...

A New Decade...

Twenty years ago a tiny little girl decided that she was sick and tired of kickin' back in the womb, and
made her world debut three weeks ahead of schedule.

She's been setting her own timeline ever since...

Happy birthday, sweet child...

your time has only just begun...
savor the journey.

Love you the most,

Mom and Dad

The Great Toadpole Relocation of 2012

It would appear that the resident toads of Bruce's Hermitage were very prolific this spring; finding the calm waters of  Lower Hermitage Pond an ideal nursery for their burgeoning brood. The pond was literally teeming with tiny toadpoles...thousands, actually.

Meanwhile, as Mother Nature provided us (or rather Mr. B) with lots of prime, pond building weather, the inevitable was bound to happen. That is, someday, in the very near future, the pump in Lower Hermitage Pond would have to be turned on, which in turn would flood Upper Hermitage Pond, thereby causing Hermitage Mountain Stream to flow between the two. It is a carefully orchestrated engineering feat, which must happen at just the right time in the pond-building process to ensure the success of entire endeavor.

Two weeks ago Mr. B had a little chat with the toadpoles of Lower Hermitage pond, informing them that they had one week in which to lose their tails, grow their legs, and be on their merry way. He explained that the Pump of Death, designed to move 6,000 gallons of water per minute, essentially mulched anything and everything that got sucked into it. They were unfazed.

Meanwhile, we received several inches of rain one afternoon, and there was a great flood. Many toadpoles were washed to their deaths in the mud flats. And I'm pretty sure that my husband gave the toadpoles another week's reprieve, because he caught me rescuing those that were fortunate enough to have been washed into small pools formed by the flood.

Last weekend was a perfect weekend...sunny, 70's, light breeze. Patience had reached an end, and there was no indication that those little devils were going anywhere anytime soon. So, Mr. Mush came up with a plan that would make everyone happy.

He set up a nursery pond outside of Lower Hermitage pond, we would transfer as many of the little guys as we could catch to their very own private pond , and the pump would get turned on. Everyone wins.

 (All those little black spots are toadpoles)

So Sunday morning, armed with the pond skimming net, I embarked on Operation Toadpole Relocation. Now, you can talk yourself silly trying to 'splain to these rascals that they were going to a much happier place, a place devoid of sucking, mulching pumps, with plenty of moss to eat, plants and rocks to hide amongst, and their very own bridge to freedom once they finally decide to grow those little toady legs. But they saw it more as an impromptu game of hide and seek. Fortunately, there really weren't that many places they could hide.

Finally, the scooping was done, the pump was turned on and we held our breaths as we witnessed the magic. As the water came rushing down the stream, I looked up the hill and got the TD sign from Mr. B. Success!

Interestingly, while watching the water flow into the upper pond, we were awestruck to see several toadpoles had survived the Pump of Death. Then, equally dismayed to watch as they were swept downstream on a rocky bumpy ride back from whence they came. It would also appear that two fish survived the falls. The rest of the toadpoles that didn't get relocated or sucked to their deaths? They are happily feasting on the shallow edge of Lower Hermitage Pond.

Now comes the fun part...putting on the finishing touches!

This could take awhile.

So, I ask you...
how much do you love a man who cares enough about a bunch of baby toads to provide them with their own nursery?
I know how much I do...

"What do you wanna do?"....

 

"I dunno...what do you wanna do?"

 (Hint: these are vultures)

So, can you name that movie?

I'm betting on only a couple of you...

but I'd love to be proven wrong.

(It's one of my all time favorites.)

As a side note: there were about 30 of these guys perched in this and the adjacent trees...

a face only a mother could love, but still cool to see perching in groups like this.

Wowsa!

Okay, so spring arrived here in the South about a month ago...seriously! We are in full bloom, and I drive past the following scenes twice a day, every day. Today, I decided I really needed to stop and take a picture or two before it was too late.

This is the realm of the land baron...our measly 2 acres is nothin' down here, and that is just one of the many things I love about living in this area. Seems that the attitude is "go big or go home". We don't just plant one Bradford Pear...

no, no, no...

we line both sides of our driveways with Bradford Pears, and we fill our yards with magnolias and forsythia and daffodils and azaleas and crepe myrtle and God knows what else...

but damn! It is truly a lovely way to live!

These are two different driveways, by the way...two of many just like it...

Obviously, the trees in the bottom picture are just about ready to go green.

I'm keeping my eye on one particular yard that is absolutely filled with bulbs...I'll keep you posted.

My Tunes

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love music. I love music that makes you want to sing and dance and smile. Loud and proud, baby! 

I’m a classic rock girl, but I also love those old, really obscure pop hits from the 60’s, 70’s and maybe the 80’s that you would NEVER hear if you just tuned into the classic rock radio station. And, if you know me well, you know I’m something of a savant when it comes to this subject.

I come by it honestly. I grew up on the Kingston Trio, Ray Stevens, Johnnie Horton, and all the old show tunes. I think we wore out the soundtrack from The Sound of Music. The four of us and the three neighbor kids, when left to our devices while our parents went out to dinner, came up with a rather entertaining mini opera based on Snoopy and the Red Baron. And let us not forget Mitch Miller. Car rides with our parents were virtual sing-a-longs to such greats as Anne Murray, The Carpenters, and Vickie Carr. I was in high school before I learned that “Light My Fire” did not originate with Perry Como, or some such other crooner...call me embarrassed! (I missed that particular Ed Sullivan show.)

My sisters and I used to sing anything we could come up with while we were doing dishes…harmonizing in a cappella. One of our better performances was the Battle Hymn of the Republic, and, during the holidays, Adeste Fideles. When I say “better”, I don’t mean good.

As we got older my older brother contributed with the great rock bands of the 70’s…The Guess Who, Chicago, Three Dog Night, Creedence Clearwater Revival…I could go on forever here. Then of course, there was the American Top 40, which we would tune into, sitting right next to the speaker with the microphone of our tape recorder strategically placed, pirating our own tapes.  The problem with this technology was there had to be absolute silence in the room. I was particularly miffed at my older sister when she let out several whoops and hollers while jamming to Rockin’ Robin (a la a very young Michael Jackson).

As teenagers, when the kids would all ride together, our road trips to the Lake of the Ozarks were jammin’ with the Eagles, Head East, Boston, Gary Wright.

As adults, my older sister introduced me to the “be the first to name that tune and artist” game while we were on a road trip. She did this with absolutely no introduction…just blurted out the song and artist, and informed me she had 10 points on me. Game on. She picked the wrong girl…I can kick her butt on that one without even trying. My younger sister, who spends a lot of time in her car listening to Sirius radio by virtue of the fact that she lives in a big city, calls me randomly with the phone to her car speaker when something truly “out-of-the-blue” comes on.  

My own road trip CD line up starts with Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits (first) album, which appropriately begins with “Roll Me Away” (BTW, if you don’t love Seger, you’re dead to me). Later in the lineup comes Meatloaf’s Bat Out of Hell album just in time to beat the road wearies. All sing-out-loud songs. You get the point.

I married someone with a similar background, with the exception that he really does have some singing talent. So, when I told him that I wanted to fill my i-Pod with those really great, really obscure songs, he became an enabler. We actually stayed up until 2 am one Saturday morning, playing around on i-Tunes and making a list…a very long list. The great thing is he has 11 years on me, so he came up with a lot of things I had forgotten about. i-Tunes enables you, too, because they make suggestions based on your searches. 

Sooo, I was thrilled when he presented me with a generous i-Tunes gift card last week. I burned through that puppy in less than an hour. And now, I have the greatest playlist ever!

The problem is the list is still fairly long and I have no idea how many songs my i-Pod will hold. Right now I’m close to 350 songs (no, I have not spent this much on i-Tunes…most of my CD collection is on there, too), and it will be a very sad day indeed if I’m ever forced to delete songs to make room for more. It will be like trying to choose between your children.

On that note (pun intended), feel free to post your own suggestions…

ETA: I should, in all fairness, let you know that a good part of my really fabulous playlist includes songs from our daughter...she comes by it honestly...