by Bella Rum
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire!
John Milton – Song on May Morning
Is there anything sweeter than a May morning? Show me. Please. I wish it could be May until October. I wouldn’t ever want October to disappear. How about six months of May and six months of October? Throw me in that briar patch.
H is playing with his sprinklers, and I just finished painting one section of the porch railing. This porch is akin to brushing your teeth. Because you did it yesterday it doesn’t mean you don’t have to do it today. Now I’m sitting here on the deck with my feet propped up. There’s only so much work a person is expected to do on a morning like this. We have to spend a little time being grateful for it. It’s only right.
H is now doing the suburban tango with two partners, three if you count the arrival of the Grackle (and I do) whose obsession is to strip H’s suet feeder of every tasty morsel of suet. He has joined H’s other tormentors, the squirrels and the moles. H loathes the squirrels for the same reason he can’t stand the grackle, they are greedy. If left to their own devices, they will not stop eating until the feeder is empty and the suet is all gone.
H will be sitting peacefully on the deck, not a care in the world, only moments away from falling asleep, and suddenly he will jump from a reclining position as if his behind is on fire, clapping his hands wildly and screaming, “Git, git, git!!!” He looks like a guy who could use a little medication.
The squirrel eyes him safely from his lofty position in his tree, and H spends his time coming up with ideas and devising new contraptions to keep him from “stealing” his bird food. After trying different approaches, H ran a skinny wire between two trees, and attached the suet in the middle so the squirrel couldn’t reach it from the trees.
Ha! The squirrel laughed as he shimmied across the wire for his dinner. So H attached a square of plexiglass between the suet and the tree. Again, the squirrel guffawed as he worked his way around the plexiglass and enjoyed a hearty meal. Then H strategically placed another square of plexiglass a few inches from the first square. Hmmm. Not so easy. The squirrel tilted his head to one side and scratched. I have to give it to H, this method seems to be working… for now, but the squirrel watches and waits and practices daily to overcome this latest obstacle. Dad used to tell H, “You know the squirrels have to eat, too.”
The moles are back. If there’s anything H hates close to as much as a squirrel or a grackle, it’s a mole, but not quite as much as he hates grubs, BUT grubs can be killed. It’s harder to kill a mole. He came in the back door last week. Exasperated, he said, “They’re back.” I said, “Who?” “The moles.” He said he was looking at the liriope when a dandelion started to wiggle. He said it just started shaking and shimmying like your sister, Kate. That mole was down there chomping away.
Oh, my. So he talked to someone who told him to get some pellets and soak them in apple juice (peta, cover your eyes) before shoving them in their holes. This fellow said he had great success with this method. H hasn’t done that yet. I prefer an honest battle like he has with the squirrels and the grackle. At least the mole was eating a weed. What could be bad about that. 🙂
I started this post this morning, but I got sidetracked. Then I took some pics that I wanted to add. Memorial Day snuck up on me this year. It seems like we should have a few more weeks of May. I hope you get to spend your weekend the way you want. As for us, we have no plans. I’ll be right here… trying to get a video of H yelling “Git, git, git.” Be safe.