The Return Of The Greenhouse...Somewhat

   Well, the greenhouse is now probably more of a shed.  Since Hurricane Zeta decided that a roof nor windows were needed, it had to have a complete makeover.  Instead of greenhouse roofing, which obviously does not withstand hurricane force winds, I have a regular roof.  Son and I went to the lumberyard, purchased some rolled roofing and he installed it today.  It is so nice to not have a leaky roof!!!  Now, to get to work on replacing the windows.  At least, there is no more deteriorating plastic tarping as an eyesore.  Hurricanes are no fun when it comes to cleanup.

  The greenhouse (as is) will at least suffice as a snug winter home for the potted plants.  It probably will not do well for starting seeds as the lighting will be almost nil.  I suppose the installation of growlights might remedy that problem but getting an early start on seedlings is not of high priority any longer.  I mainly need a place to overwinter plants.

  I will miss my sweet little "hideaway" in the two photos above, however.  I so enjoyed working in the greenhouse and being in the bright, sunny room.  Now, it will feel more as if I am stuck inside of a shed.  Perhaps, I can get creative with paint on the inside to make it a bit more appealing.  Other than being elated to have a nice roof and getting the greenhouse back in order, it will be nice to have this repaired for any future Clue Hunts on the Bayou.  It has been transformed into anything from a medieval forge to a conservatory to a swamp witch shanty.  It is back! 

Outgrowing Its Boundaries

   The over abundance of rain and the warm temperatures have turned the Small Gardens into one massive "rain-forest"  With the few days that I actually get to work there, the gardens are getting out of control.  Everything is growing far faster than I can harvest.  This past week, visitors to the Little Bayou House were not allowed to leave without filling their baskets, bags or boxes with vegetables.  That is all good as they appreciated it and I was relieved to see stuff heading off to their houses.  

  One of the more worrisome things is the potted rose.  It is not my wishes to snip back those faded blooms as I may disturb Mama Wren who has just hatched her brood.  Five baby wrens sit nestled among the violets and wood sorrel that blanket the roots of the rose bush.  This fretting is probably for naught as Mama Wren did not budge when I went out with the drill to put more holes in the pot.  With 7 inches of rain pouring overnight, it was my fear that her nest would be flooded if the water did not drain fast enough.  Just before dark last night, I could be found on my hands and knees (in a drizzly rain) mangling a perfectly good flower pot to save my critter friends!  Also, she never minded me putting the "fence" around her home just in case the feral cat decided to attack.  It will be a few more weeks before the rose can be trimmed...either rose since Mama Cardinal should be hatching her eggs in about a week.  She is in Grandmother's rose just a few feet from Mama Wren.  

  It is no wonder that the Small Gardens have become a haven, not only for me, but also my sweet critter friends.  We help each other and try to avoid any disturbances.  Life is good.

The "New" General!

  A few years ago, I was introduced to the word "peopling".  At that time, it seemed an appropriate term to use when I was fed up with the constant whining that I was having to endure.  It was obvious that folks considered whining and complaining to be the equivalent of doing.  One day in mid-afternoon, I had become overtaxed by the chore of "peopling" so I headed to my peaceful spot also known as the pier.  There, I sought refuge from everyone!  Well, that peopling thing is wearing thin on me, once again.  I have decided instead of letting the aggravation get the best of me, I should just withdraw, once again.  I have and I feel great!  This social distancing thing is phenomenal for folks like me who have a great distaste for the drama that others thrive upon.  I want no part of it (or them)!  Life is better that way.  I will stick with the critters of the Bayou as they have no time for whining.

  Early this morning, my escape to the pier brought a bit of happiness.  It has been several years since I have had an encounter with "The General".   This is the name that I had given to the most dominant of the Red-winged Blackbirds that frequent the marsh.  The birds nest there and while the females incubate the eggs, the males keep guard.  For years, one male ruled the entire flock.  He demanded respect from all the underlings and got it.  His wing bars were brilliant and quite large.  The  General wore those epaulets with pride and flashed them whenever he needed to pull rank on the others.  The bird grew quite tame and allowed me to visit often.  He would strut his stuff for my admiration.  We grew to be great friends.  Then, the General went missing and I never saw him again.  The trips to the pier were always lacking for want of a General.  

  This morning, a new "man" is in charge.  There is a new General!  Another male blackbird has earned the rank and is the dominate bird of the territory.  This one has the large, showy epaulets of his predecessor.  In fact, he seems to be almost identical in appearance and in character of the old General making me think that this is an offspring.  The bird allowed me to visit him as I did the old General.  I smiled as I realized that a new generation will rule the marshes!  I salute you, General!  Keep up the good work and follow the path that your predecessor set out for you.  You will do well.