Words fail me.
A city boy will never learn everything a country boy knows by instinct. A country boy will learn everything a city boy knows in six months.
Words fail me.
My brother sent me this eerie picture of the Norris Bridge across the mouth of the Rappahannock.
Look closely and you can see the baby’s open mouth in the birdhouse.
H/T to my brother on Virginia’s Northern Neck for the pic.
At least, that’s what the decals said.
It’s growing out of the window box, right along with the geraniums and impatiens and the vincas.
It started life as a 1926 Dodge. It now has a Chevy 350 powerplant, an automatic transmission, a radio/CD player, and no power anything.
This rod was a labor of love.
We had a delightful chat with the owner of the vehicle, who created it over the course of several years, at the Beach Pub (an unparalleled eatery) on Friday. We agreed that kids today are a lost cause and don’t know anything about cars.
The owner pursues a sideline of collecting, restoring, and selling knives. If you are interested in collectible knives, email me via the email link on the sidebar and I’ll provide his contact information. (He does not have an on-line presence.)
He really did not want to see the vet, and I have the band-aids to prove it.
Usually he tries to hide under a chair.
You can grow sunflowers in pots.
It started by accident. My friend put sunflower seeds from the pet shelf in the grocery store in the flower pots as a treat for the cardinals (the ones with wings, not the ones with hats). A couple of weeks later, unfamiliar sprouts started to compete with the petunias and impatiens and portulacas; a guess plus a web search convinced us they were sunflowers, so we transplanted the strongest ones to a great big pot to see what would happen.
Sunflowers happened. The deck will be ablaze with them in a few more days.
They need little care other than frequent watering; they are very thirsty.
I guarantee that we have the only deck in the neighborhood with honking great five-foot tall sunflowers on it.
If you look really closely beneath the
daffodils daylilies, you can see the mother duck sitting on her nest.
This is within three feet of the condo’s mailboxes under a little tree in the median strip of the parking lot. While we were there, she did not move–the only way to verify that she was alive was to see her blink.
We had another look this morning; she was still there, but facing the other way.
Here’s a picture taken today from a different angle.
Residents have left dishes of water and of grass clippings for her. I don’t know whether ducks eat grass clippings, but it’s really very sweet.