Son took the time today to take me for a short hike about the hillside. We did not go far but it was exhilarating for me to leave the confines of the small garden area. As we walked, he and I talked of many things. He allowed me to take all the time I wanted to explore the path that I have walked so many times before. In just the ten days of my confinement, so many things have changed. I wanted to see every, little thing! Along the way, I spotted a box turtle making her way to the marsh edge. We interrupted her journey for a few moments so I could photograph her and then Son squatted down to pet her. Animals have this thing about him. There seems to be a connection where they know he will never harm them. I was touched to see the interaction and to hear him state that he was glad that I taught him to respect all nature but to fear none. Dear, old mom is proud!
Box turtles are interesting critters. Most folks do not know that they can easily learn who will feed them and they will return whenever they wish to eat. Son hand feeds several of the critters and they all seem to take special care never to bite him.
Some interesting facts about box turtles.
Box turtles have a domed carapace or upper shell. Their lower shell or plastron is hinged so the box turtle can literally close like a box for protection.
Males are larger than females. Males have red eyes whereas females have yellowish brown eyes.
Box turtles are diurnal meaning they are active during the day. They are more prone to be out during the early morning hours or after a rain.
Box turtles will burrow under mulch or mud to escape the heat of the day.
Box turtles will eat just about anything they can find. They are omnivores meaning they eat both plants and other animals. (Think worms, caterpillars, frogs and insects or anything else.)
If a box turtle falls on its back and cannot right itself, it will die.
The female box turtle buries her eggs. She digs a hole and deposits 3 to 8 eggs. The eggs hatch quicker in the south (around 70 days) than in the north (around 120 days).
Most baby box turtles fall prey to raccoons, fox, snakes, birds and other predators. Only a few ever make it to maturity.
Box turtles can theoretically live to 100 years of age but most die before the age of 30.
A box turtle usually lives its entire life in a territory with a diameter of about 750 feet.
So, now you know a bit about our sweet box turtle friends. They are rather neat critters and are actually a big help in the garden as they do eat a lot of pests. An occasional tomato is a small price to pay.
Today was Mother's Day where all mothers are to be honored and celebrated. It should be their day off from the worries of the world but, I have got news for you...that just does not happen....especially with the uncertain times that are slapping us in the face. Mothers worry. Mothers fret for the safety of their children (even when they are grown). Mothers are mothers. We will always look out for the best interest of our kids. Obviously, there is no "day off". The work is just conveniently shoved to another day. After all, who is going to pick up the slack while everyone insists she sits. The answer...no one. No one! The laundry, cooking, cleaning, caring for children, tending the needs of all family members, caring for the ill, soothing bruised egos are all mom chores. No one will pick up the slack. Don't even think that some one else will scrub that toilet cause it ain't happenin', folks. It ain't happenin'.
Perhaps it was just because of this social distancing or chalk it up to a bad mood day, but this was not a favorite day of mine. Oh, it had its bright moments since I did get to "see" (but not hug) my beautiful daughter and handsome son-in-law. We had to keep our "6 feet distancing" since she is in the medical field and is adamant about not spreading the virus. (I fully agree with that.) Having them here (in the yard) for a few moments was glorious! Another delightful moment was when Son pitched in to help home can the green beans that Mark brought home for the farmer's market. His quirky jokes made the time go faster. Still, I missed my oldest son, sweet daughter-in-law and grandlittles. That huge hole in my day hurt.
Speaking of "holes", I was tempted to crawl into one I found early this morning and just stay there. I could ride out the day in perfect bliss hiding in the sky! There was one break in the clouds that gave the illusion that it was an escape hatch from the worries of the world! If only I had a ladder long enough to reach the clouds, things would have been ok. Sometimes you just need to escape....I thought about it. It might have been a fun adventure!
Earlier today, a walk to the compost pile was necessary to empty the kitchen scraps. This daily chore, not only helps to clean the kitchen, it supplies a good bit of healthy soil for the garden, snacks for whatever critter is hungry and a chance for me to be outside. Compost piles are good for what ails you! It was on that short outing that I noticed a dragonfly resting on one of the tomato crates. The garden has gone the wayside but I have neglected to gather the crates. The dragonfly was readily identified as a Common Whitetail Skimmer. Earlier in the spring, dozens of the female dragonflies of this type visited the garden but nary a male could be found. Now, a fine specimen was here. Better late than never, I suppose. Fortunately, there were still several females in the area flitting about the Frog Pond.
The Common Whitetail Skimmers are a bit different from other dragonflies. Their bodies sort of chunky compared to other dragonflies. The wings are checkered black and clear. The male and female wing bars are almost the exact opposite of each others. With these dragonflies, it is easy to distinguish male from female even at a distance. The female is dark brown while the male is almost white or pale blue. This color difference is due to a coating called pruinosity. It appears as a light dusting of color and the males use in it territorial displays. (The female does not have this.) The males will lift the abdomen high to let other males know that this is their territory. If that does not work, then an aerial battle will take place. After mating, the female lays her eggs in water where they will hatch and the nymphs live until they morph into adulthood. The Common Whitetail Skimmers are highly dependent on fresh water.
My short outings to the compost pile can be looked upon as a much needed break. I can escape for a few moments before having to return to the reality of caring for the old dog. Hopefuly soon, he will feel up to joining me on longer hikes but, for now, I will be thankful for a compost heap!
Since it was a nice, drizzly day here on the Bayou, it was the perfect day to be "do-less". This was a phrase that Mom used whenever she had the "not feeling like accomplishing" attitude which was not often. It is the same way here but, for the life of me, I just could not find things to do after the daily chores were done. So, the old dog and I headed to the greenhouse to piddle around doing nothing. He piled up on his old rug and I sat in the chair pondering anything and everything. In reality, this was more an escape than an actual desire to be in the greenhouse during the rain. Still, it was nice...doubly nice because there was no phone, no people, no anything...just me, an old dog intent on sleeping the day away and the clue hunt decoration "Lady DeadMadam".
As I sat watching the rain, it occurred to me how peaceful it was being shut off from the world for a while. I could get used to this! It also occurred to me that I have no ordinary greenhouse. Son built the thing for me using a bunch of old windows, some discarded bricks and a load of boards. I. being me, decorated it. Yep, it is filled with an eclectic bunch of oddities. One of the things that made it to the greenhouse just did not fit in too well with the Little Bayou House. The greenhouse, on the other hand, seemed to be the perfect place for a faux stained glass window. Faux in this case meaning fake glass, fake stained glass and fake quality work. It is something I did long ago for a elementary school party decoration. It stayed in the classroom for the remainder of the year and then came back home. Until the greenhouse was built, the panel stayed hidden in the back of a closet. Then! Out it came to adorn the greenhouse window and it looks perfectly at home, Today, especially, the window looked nice.
There is just something about hearing the rain on the rooftop, being with the old dog and knowing the world can do without you for a little while. A greenhouse is the perfect place to be.
Mr. PJ, the old dog that has come to live with us, has been a perfect jewel the entire time I have been ill. I think he understands that I am under the weather and has not wanted to aggravate me in any way. I can open the door and let him go do his business far down the hillside without worry. He has not tried to leave the Bayou. Actually, that would be nigh on impossible with his aging legs and arthritis anyway because of the sheer distance but it is a relief that he has not ventured far off his given track....until today. Today...today, of all days, he decided to raid the compost pile which is far down behind the house near the canebrake in the opposite direction of his usual roaming spots.
While this would have been aggravating enough, he would not return when called. Ugh! This meant that I had to don a jacket and head out to retrieve the dog. Still not bad except for the fact that there was pea-soup thick fog and a fine mist falling. Still...not the end of the world...except that I have the flu. Added together, the events deemed troublesome enough to rile me a bit. As I traipsed through the drizzle to fetch the dog, I kept calling. He was not even paying one iota of attention to my yells. As I rounded the corner of the shed and he was in view, he darted under the small deck on the back of the storeroom. Now what?? It was all I could do to control the temper that was welling up inside of me. Two things....one...he knows the compost pile is off limits. Has been ever since he first started to visit the Bayou some ten years ago. Second....he should know that going under decks, sheds and the house are a no-no. He has been reprimanded enough to know better. So, his infractions kept piling up.
After I finally persuaded the runaway dog to reenter the Little Bayou House, a foul odor hit me. Ugh. Yep, he reeked to High Heaven! Obviously, he had not gone for the fresh orange peels, mushy banana or anything recent. HE had to wallow in something that had been there for a while! By this time, I did not even have the energy to fight him into the tub. The bath would have to wait for another day. Darling Daughter had given me a bottle of "doggy perfume" back when Ms. Ez was with us so that came into play. A few spritzes later and I could breathe. I looked at the old dog and his tail started thumping on the floor. Big, sad, puppy dog eyes glistened up at me as if to apologize for his misdeeds. Oh, geez, Pup! You were grounded...were...ok, I still love you. Now to get the wet clothes off, brew a mug of herb tea and try to stop the shakes. Of all the times in the world for you to choose to go on an escapade, this was probably the worst.
While on the last walk of the evening, I heard a bit of loud splashing in the marsh. This could be one of many things such as an alligator was entering the water, the otters were playing, raccoons were squabbling or the nutria was waking for the night. I waited just a bit to see if whatever was making the noise would come my way. Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of a dark figure under the edge of the pier. Aha! My friend would soon show itself!
At the same time I noticed the critter, it got a scent of me and started to make a great escape! Out from under the pier, a lone nutria swam in the shallows. It turned to look a me a moment then headed across the small cut and into a well used path through the marsh. I had a notion this was the culprit making the large splashes. Here lately, I have noticed that plenty of the knolls of marsh had their roots gnawed. That, in itself, is enough indication of a nutria's presence. Contrary to what most folks think, nutrias are vegans. They do not raid minnow traps nor crab traps. In fact, the animals have no interest in much other than the roots of the marsh. Those, they eat with wild abandon and, given enough of the critters in the area, can ruin much marshland.
So far, the nutria population in the Bayou is being kept in check by the alligators that also reside there. The gators are the main predators of the nutrias so it works out well. Without that natural balance, the marsh would soon disappear and erosion will take away much of the land. The gators do their part in keeping things in proper order. This fat nutria had better watch itself as several nice-sized gators are lurking in the same marsh that it is gnawing!
