Tag: Mountain living

Saying Goodbye for Now

Our last evening with Kate was very pleasant, because I could put off thoughts of saying goodbye. Logan 070615 Porch Logan K N Bob(5) and Bob came across the street to visit for a while on the porch. The young boy supplied power for the trains, since the transformer caught fire a few days ago. Living in the mountains can be very exciting at times.

 

This morning I heard an alarm at 5:15 which I presumed was Kate’s, so I got up. Everyone appeared to be asleep. By the time I dressed for walking, John was up, followed by Kate. She had packed the car last night and left after a light breakfast. We had two quick goodbyes, after which I started walking. The hardest goodbye was the third — waving as her car disappeared down the street. I had an hour then to try to concentrate on all the good times we had while she was here.

I’d pegged Kate’s leaving as the time to attack the climbing hydrangea, which we have watched not bloom for two summers. Internet instructions said to cut back in late June or early July. As John, Nate, and I had breakfast on the porch, I decided I might as well be truly miserable. Out came the loppers and clippers. There is nothing like gardening to make the rest of my life seem to be a delightful dream. I wonder if taking off my glasses would help. You finish one job, and your eyes wander a bit, luring you to yet another rogue plant that needs to be curbed. The quick answer is no, because I’m so blind I might cut off a toe instead. I allotted ten snips for the wisteria and removed low branches from the crepe myrtle at the front. I hope super gardeners Amy, Shawn, and Beth will give me a virtual pat on the back. For immediate gratification, I should have taken before and after photos.

Found a picture from a month ago and ran outside to record today’s hack job. I can’t see much change, certainly not a half hour’s sweat difference.

060915 Mystery plant    070715 Shorn climbing hydrangea

Golly Pete!  I don’t think the clothes pins changed, either.

Who Takes Pictures of Chickens?

Who takes pictures of chickens? I do when the situation presents itself. I was almost home from the morning walk and turned into our street. A chicken was strutting about on the lawn at the turn, clearly pleased to be there. Oh, no! Could it belong to our neighbors across from us who were away on vacation? Without thinking twice, I whipped out the toy camera and shot it. I talked to it for a minute and went home, wondering if I should text Shawn. I wouldn’t know how to handle a chicken, but I would have tried if she told me what to do. There ensued a string of messages.

Anne: Something fowl in Angie’s yard a few minutes ago. Brown with red comb. Hope it’s not yours. No others visible.

S: Oh, no!!!! Alive or dead?

A: Very much alive. If I see it again, what should I do? I took a photo. Don’t know that I could send it here.

S: Yes, u can send it here. If you can grab her they usually lay down for you and can u put her in the coop?

061815 Not Shawn's chicken

A: Did the pic come through?

S: Yes, but we don’t think she’s ours. Our friend that’s caring for them is now heading over to check.

A short while later:

S: It’s not our chicken! Belongs to the teen who lives there.

A: Sorry to have troubled you about the chicken. Wanted to help if it had been yours.

S: No I’m so thankful you did as a fox could have gotten in the coop. Hence the fear.

I was relieved to see lights on in their house a few days later. I would be off chicken duty, with no need to take identity shots again.

John came in f062015 Neighbors on their roofrom our front porch and told me the neighbors were on their roof, cleaning the gutters. That was something I didn’t want to miss. I shouted to ask if I could take a picture, and they gave permission. I tell you, living in the Smokies is one fun adventure after another. I laughed when the owner sprayed the teen with the hose. It was a very warm day and undoubtedly felt good. If I’d been gardening, I might have gone over asking for a spray myself.