Thursday, May 31

Bird Baths and Long Weekends

This past long holiday weekend was spent doing what it was meant for - remembering our veterans both fallen and still with us. Pots of red white and blue flowers were planted and placed on the graves of my Grandfather and my Uncle, his son, at my hometown cemetery. Grandpa survived horrendous wounds in Italy in '44, returning home and living happily until 1996. Uncle Glen served two tours in Vietnam only to be killed in a car accident about 2 weeks after returning home for good.

I remember them, and many other members of my family tree that have fought in wars dating back to before there even was an America.

The rest of the weekend was spent here at home, no traveling except to a relatives house for a grilled lunch of hotdogs and hamburgers. I worked all day Friday on the yard while Roy took charge of the kids. All those small projects that seem to pile up on the back burner until they threaten to topple the cook range. There was also much weeding, moving chicken fences, cleaning out the coop, planting more seedlings, planting seeds where seedlings were eaten, and constructing fences to prevent future destruction of the sprouts.

I do have to say that I am rather disappointed in my dirt this year. Very clumpy and tough going with the hoe. I am not seeing good germination on the beans or peas even though I made sure to soak them all before planting. Another problem for another day.

I got in 10 new strawberry plants in the new raised bed on Saturday - added to the 12 roots I planted earlier, I will have a full raised bed of strawberry plants next season. I may get a few berries off the transplanted seedlings this year, but not enough to make jam.
When each day was done and all the little finishing-up chores are complete, I top off the bird bath in the front yard with what is left in the watering can.
video

After cleaning up and getting something cold to drink, I sit on the front porch and watch as the birds make the cautious approach to the bath. First landing on the handle of the decorative plow, checking things out, and then perching on the rim of the bath. They wade in slowly, continuously looking around for danger, and then suddenly they duck down, dipping their heads and flipping water onto their backs. A flurry of feather shaking and flapping of wings ensues and then it is repeated, rapidly. Sometimes they really get into it and I can hear the slapping and flapping all the way in the family room if the window is open.
A good way to end the day.

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