Gardening 101

Still working on the flowerbeds. Whose idea was this anyway? We have a wedding to attend in April, and I don't want my hands to look like they've been digging in the dirt and shoveling mulch. I've gone through three pairs of gloves already.... the fabric ones developed a hole, the cotton ones kept getting wet with the hose, and I cut off the tip of the thumb on the plastic ones (thankfully, my thumb is intact, but that particular glove is history).

I've decided that gardening isn't all that bad. I'm allergic to fire ant bites, so I have to be careful where I step.... and this entire state sits on top of fire ant mounds, no matter how much ant spray you use. I often wonder how in the world kids run around in bare feet..... on the grass.... and not get swallowed up by every fire ant in Texas.

With inspiration from neighbor A, whose Bluebonnet Gathering we went to last week, I have been decorating our flowerbeds.  A's backyard had a full-sized wooden wagon.... but I didn't want to spend hundreds of dollars for a wagon that would sit in our yard and make a more-than-comfortable lounging space for our outside cat Gatsby. (I can see him now, all stretched out in the back of a wagon, expecting me to provide a blanket for his naps and a western-design food bowl filled with Meow Mix.)

On my weekly visits to the local thrift store (which is like going to an indoor garage sale), I found the perfect substitute for a huge wagon......... a wicker and metal baby buggy.  And it was just $20, not hundreds of dollars. Very vintage, with the wicker being in considerably good condition, but the metal is all rusty. I don't intend to polish it up because it's just sitting in the flowerbed by the back steps, somewhat protected by the sun because of the breezeway that connects the house to the garage.  Without a doubt, that buggy was the treasure of the week, and it gives that flowerbed the pizazz it needed.

I pulled decorative garden items out of my space at the antique shop..... I now have a wooden chicken nesting in a hollow spot in the mesquite tree, there's a wooden angel in the flowerbed around the back deck, a wrought iron miniature bicycle propped up between the purple and white petunias, yellow butterflies attached to one of the posts around the deck, and there are metal lanterns scattered here and there on tree stumps and metal tables. Cute to the max, and it was fun to do.  I've decided that the key to enjoyable gardening is twofold: Stay out of the fire ant mounds, and decorate the garden as you would decorate the house.

I pinched some spent blooms off of the petunias this afternoon.... with a little luck, new blooms will appear before too long.  With even more luck, grasshoppers and rabbits won't be feasting on all these flowers and plants we've so carefully arranged in the newly-mulched flowerbeds. Now wouldn't that be the pits..... to walk out there one morning and find an army of fat grasshoppers that have consumed the petunias and marigolds.......

Chickens would eat those grasshoppers in a heartbeat..... but when you have chickens, you can't have pretty flowerbeds because they scratch in the mulch to get down to the dirt as they look for worms and bugs.  But if I had chickens, and no pretty flowerbeds, I wouldn't have three broken nails and chipped nail polish. 

Mulch happens....

Spring has sprung. I know that because I have broken two nails and my hands get dirty even when I'm wearing gloves outside.  About the only thing I knew about gardening back in Clear Lake was to call Mr. R and his lawn crew. Out they came, four guys with rakes and lawn-mowers......  and in less than 30 minutes, our quarter-acre piece of property looked wonderful. Everything neat and tidy and clipped to within an inch of its green life.

We have 23 acres here.... lots of green grass surrounding the house, two pastures beyond our first fence going towards the woods and the creek, and flowerbeds all around the house and the cottage, and between the cottage and the barn.  The previous owner was a real gardener...... loved roses, loved flowers, loved to shape and clip and prune and grow.   I doubt very much she cared about nail polish and I'm betting she rarely wore gloves. 

We do have a lawn guy who mows for us..... and another guy who comes to cut and bale the hay from the pastures twice a year. But other than the lawn guy pulling up weeds, the flowerbeds weren't getting all that much attention.  Ah.... but Spring has sprung.

My husband and I started with the flowerbed behind the garage.  We had eggplants growing there last year, which looked nice while they were green and growing, but left an expanse of dirt after the plants were pulled up.  With a borrowed tiller from friend J, my husband turned that dirt over to reveal even darker dirt below the soil that was on top.  After a trip to Home Depot, we were ready to cover the ground with that fabric stuff to keep (most of the) weeds out, and then we planted azaleas and marigolds, and purple and white flowers whose names I can't remember. Around all of the new plants, I put down mulch. Bags and bags of mulch that our outside cat Gatsby loves to nap in. He smells like a pine tree now, but he hasn't disturbed the plants and flowers. Gentleman cat that he is, he's napping inbetween and around the new plants.

Of course, now that one flowerbed is done, the rest look neglected.  The biggest chore will be the flowerbeds that go all around the house. Those larger beds have palm trees and crepe myrtles, butterfly bushes and sage plants..... and some tiger-lily type of flower that comes up in early summer as long as the temperatures aren't broiling hot by then.  Our lawn guy will be here next week to do all the weeding for us....... we'll order a couple of yards of mulch from Home Depot or one of those places who sell mulch by the truck-load instead of in those plastic bags. We'll buy some more plants and flowers, and maybe I can buy some better gardening gloves.

After going to A & J's house this afternoon for their Bluebonnet Gathering, I will be on a mission to find cute little decorative things to put into the newly-mulched flowerbeds..... the thrift stores always seem to have garden things on their shelves.  And I also have a few garden ornaments in my own space at the antique shop, so I'll give those a second look to see if there's anything I can bring home for the flowerbeds.

I am honestly trying not to break another nail..... the fabric garden gloves aren't strong enough.... and they get soaked through with one blast of the hose.  Plastic gloves work well if you put two or three of them on so you have more coverage from the weeds with sharp little needles on their edges.  All those layers of plastic don't exactly give you flexibility... it's like trying to count out pennies with mittens on your hands.

The flowerbeds will look wonderful when they're weeded and planted and mulched...... and then we'll be out there watering every day, all summer long when the temperatures go over 100 and the water dries up as quickly as you get it on the plants.  In one of the backyard spots, I suggested to my husband that we plant some Texas-native cactus. Pretty ones that bloom with bright flowers.  My husband doesn't like cactus. I don't like most cactus plants either, but they're no-maintenance in this state.  "I thought you liked an English garden look...." my husband said.   Well, of course I do, but we're in Texas, not England....... and it doesn't rain here like it does in Britain..... and above all else, we don't have a live-in British gardener who will tend to the watering and the weeding and the floral arrangements.  Details.... details....

Bluebonnet Gathering

We went to neighbors' A & J's property today for their annual Bluebonnet Gathering.  It's a little early for the full onslaught of bluebonnets.... they're popping up here and there in small patches, but the fields are not yet blazing in blue.  You just never know when the 'peak' is going to be........ depends on the rain, the weather, and (most importantly) Mother Nature.  Sometime between late March and mid-April, all of the bluebonnets decide to come out and play, so we're all still waiting for their celebration.

But today was A & J's celebration, and it was a lot of fun.  Their property backs up to part of our property. From a narrow road running along the creek which separates the two properties, they can see the roof of our house.  J took us for a ride in his ranch buggy this afternoon and showed us the spot where they can see our house.  Nestled in the woods there by the creek, we saw beautiful dogwood trees in full bloom. Apparently, the dogwoods aren't waiting for the bluebonnets.  JS was with us and she took a bunch of pictures with her camera, no doubt worthy of the pages in "National Geographic."  With nearly 100 acres on that property, there was not a shortage of great places to aim her camera.

A had spent the last couple of days making different kinds of BBQ (translation: meats), and everyone else who came brought either a dessert or a side-dish.  We got a tour of her barn (living quarters on the second floor, full kitchen and party area on the main floor), plus we also got to see their new  home which was just completed last year. Lots to see, with so many ranch-country touches sprinkled with love and pride-of-place in every corner.

As we drove around in the ranch buggy with A's husband, we saw all the painted wood signs that A had nailed onto the trees along the dirt road.  She had "Beware of Spiders" on one tree, "Low-flying Bat Zone" on another, and there were even wood tombstones in a hidden corner, left over from the days when A used to host a Halloween party every year.

A's painted signs got me to thinking...... I could easily paint some old wood boards with white paint, and use green or pink paint for the lettering:   "Paris-- 5047 miles"  or  "Rhinestone Way"  or  "City Girls Keep Out."  The possibilities are endless.....

The Princess Tea Party

Today was the tea party for friends J and J, and J's daughter and her two little girls.  We had talked about this before Valentine's Day, and since then, I'd been looking around for tea party accessories for the two girls (a first-grader and a second-grader).  The theme of the tea party was "Princess," since the girls had been to DisneyWorld last year and had tea in Cinderella's Castle. (Talk about pressure....)

So our tea party style today was mostly Princess, with a little bit of St. Patty's Day tossed in, since my living room and dining room is decorated for the month of March in shamrocks and leprechauns, and two little St. Patrick's Day trees.

At each place setting, I had an over-sized Hersey's Chocolate Kiss holding the place cards, a beaded tiara, a pink star-shaped magic wand, and a tiny purse holding a rhinestone ring. (Every princess, no matter her age, needs some bling.)  Keeping St. Patty's Day in mind, everyone had a  bright green beaded Mardi Gras-type necklace. (More bling.)

I had found two demitasse-sized cups for the two girls, and a teapot that nearly matched their special little cups. (Smaller cups for smaller hands.)  Being that DisneyWorld served hot chocolate at their Cinderella Tea, so did I.  For us big girls, we had regular teacups, a bigger teapot (with real tea).

Two kinds of cupcakes...... chocolate brownie cupcakes with pistachio nuts, and key lime cupcakes with cream-cheese frosting.  J brought over a plate filled with chocolate coconut cookies and green M&Ms.  Between the bling and the sweets, we were over-the-top. (J's daughter waved her magic wand over the desserts, making them calorie-free.)

The best part of the afternoon... the two little girls (J & C) were dolled up in matching dresses and sparkling shoes. Cute to the max, and so precious to see.... it was like a painting come to life as they walked in my door.   Their eyes lit up as they saw the dining room table with the fancy china and teacups, and all the surprises at the place settings.  At the center of the table, I had a Victorian-style vanity mirror, so they could see their adorable selves after putting on the tiaras. They both smiled so big, and their eyes were bright and princess-y as they saw how beautiful they looked.  Those big smiles alone were worth all the baking and fussing and accessory-shopping.

After our tea and desserts, we played the Tea Bingo game.  I had bought that years ago when I gave tea parties for Miss C and her friends.  Actually, when C was here last week, she saw all the tea party accessories in my room and she asked me what they were for.  I told her about J asking me to do a tea party for her two granddaughters. Without missing a beat, Miss C told my husband: "Miss L is tea-party cheating on me!"  I would have loved it if C could have been here, but she works during the week, now that she's graduated from college.  She was here in spirit, and as I watched these two little girls today enjoying the tea party, I thought of all the special times with Miss C when she was their age.

I had prizes (coloring books and crayons) for the girls (for their Tea Bingo wins), and books for us big girls....... and when the afternoon tea was over, we all gathered up our tiaras and rings and magic wands...... I suggested to the little girls that they bring their tiaras the next time they visit their grandparents so we will be properly attired for our next tea party.

Such fun....... and such a wonderful surprise to see two little girls dressed up in their Sunday-best, with perfectly good manners as they ate their cupcakes and sipped their hot chocolate. Their enthusiasm for the afternoon was more heart-warming than I can describe.  Afternoon tea... a simple gift to give to little girls....... and you get such a magnificent memory in return.

No more cats, no more cats....

..... no more cats. Period. End of story.

At any given time since our 1993 arrival in Texas, we have had no less than two and no more than four cats, at the same time, in one house.  Except for one tiny female kitten who lived just a week, all of the others were males. And therein lies the problem.

Male cats. They specialize in establishing their territory and marking the boundaries of their kingdom. All our cats have been neutered, so you would think that wouldn't be a problem. Ha. Think again.  A few years ago, we put my blue-eyed AngelBoy 'to sleep' because he just wouldn't, would not, absolutely refused, to quit finding new corners of this house to use as his private litter-free litter box. AngelBoy's problem wasn't a new problem because of this house, it was his ten-year-long quest to drive me completely insane and give our Clear Lake carpet-cleaning guy a good vacation every year with all the extra calls he made to that house.  The Clear Lake house had a screen porch, which prolonged AngelBoy's life considerably...... no screen porch in this house.  And I couldn't make him an outside cat because he had been de-clawed.

To this day, I can see AngelBoy's blue eyes, and if I close my own eyes and think of that beautiful cat, I can feel the long and silky fur that covered him from nose to tail.  It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do with a cat...... bring him to the vet and have him 'put down' because there was no way to keep him from thinking outside of his litter box, and believe me when I tell you we tried everything, even going so far as to consulting a well-known Houston pet psychic.

A couple of weeks ago, Mickey Kitty, our youngest cat, started picking up where AngelBoy left off. From time to time since we've been in this house, Mickey had left his mark here and there, which prompted me to keep mostly all of the house off-limits to the cats.  Their domain is the large TV room and the connecting bathroom, on the first floor.  At some point during every day, I would close the doors leading to the front of the house and to the upstairs, and Mickey and Sweet Pea could walk around the kitchen and the breakfast room as well.... but couldn't get further into the living room and dining room, and certainly not up the stairs to the other floors.  Mickey wasn't always happy with that arrangement, and if he saw me going up the back stairs and closing the door behind me, he would meow his little kitty-heart out until I came back down the stairs.  If I took too long getting into his sight again, he would 'leave his mark' on the door to that staircase. As I said... shades of AngelBoy, minus the blue eyes.

Mickey is an all-black cat, very small, very non-smart outside on the property, and we've had him since he was a few weeks old and just a couple of pounds worth of fur.  My husband found him when he was out walking Gracie in the park of our old neighborhood one day...... he came home with this tiny black kitten, just a few weeks after we had each promised one another that we would not, would not, would not get any more cats.  Over the years, Mickey was our third all-black cat, so I guess we had a soft spot for black cats that no one else wanted.

So now we've had to deal with AngelBoy-behavior in Mickey Kitty. Last year, we let Mickey outside, thinking he would stay around the house like our very smart outside cat Gatsby. Think again. Mickey was all over the road, walking into and through the large drainage pipes that took him from our property to the neighbor's. Mickey started out near our pond and ended up in the neighbor's field with his cows and goats.  Enough of that..... into the house for good came Mickey. Out came the cleaning supplies...... being that our old carpet cleaning guy is still in Clear Lake because (silly me) we didn't invite him to move up here to the Hill Country when we did.  After daily scrubbings and countless loads of laundry, I said enough was enough.  But what to do with Mickey?  Another cat on my conscience after a last trip to the vet?

We had the empty chicken coop...... we had been bringing both Sweet Pea and Mickey into that coop-turned-cat-cabana for months now, and they both loved being in there. Provided it was warm, not too cold, not too windy, not too hot, and definitely not raining.  So why couldn't we turn the coop into Mickey's new home-away-from-home?  And that's what I did........ all of Mickey's favorite things went in there..... and so did Mickey.  My husband thought it wouldn't be a problem to leave Mickey in there all day and all night...... it was better than a trip to the vet, he said.

Ha. Think again.  Mickey's first all-nighter in the coop this past weekend was a dark and stormy night, complete with pouring rain, thunder, lightning. The only bright spot of the night was the warm temperature. The storm started after midnight and woke me up.  No way was I going out there in the middle of the storm.  I don't walk around this property at night in the first place...... coyotes, huge raccoons, armadillos digging holes that can twist your ankle, possums that bare their teeth at you, snakes looking for mice and chicken eggs.....  I don't even sit on the porch and look at the stars at night, so I'm not going to go walking from the house to the coop in the middle of a storm.

I woke up about five or six times during that stormy night, hearing the wind and the rain, and also hearing Mickey's decibel-blasting meows of terror coming from the coop. My heart was breaking for that cat. When my husband woke up during the storm, he told me not to worry, that Mickey was dry, but scared, and he'd live through it.

Up and awake and dressed before dawn, I was out of the back door as soon as it got light the next morning.  The rain had soaked everything along the two fenced-in walls of the coop..... the other two walls of wood protected everything along those sides...... and Mickey, poor Mickey, was wide-eyed and indignant and insulted. I picked him up and carried him into the house. I apologized to him with each and every step and I just cried.

I washed all of the wet blankets and cat pillows in the coop..... re-arranged the cat furniture in there to keep everything away from the fenced sides..... all of that while Mickey was sequestered in the bathroom because I didn't trust him in the TV room anymore.  I had already washed and scrubbed and cleaned every bit of that TV room and I didn't want to have to re-do anything.

What to do with Mickey? What to do......  The coop seemed to be the logical place to keep him, especially as the weather gets warmer..... but still, he needed a safe place to go in case of rain or thunder or anything that goes bump in the night and scares him.  That coop used to be a dog kennel for the previous owners....... it's very big, with a high ceiling and a secure gate...... my husband added layers of meshed wire and chicken-wire before we got our first group of chickens.  After I got tired of having chickens stolen by hawks and foxes and heaven-only-knows-what-else, my husband power-washed the coop and we turned it into a screen porch for the cats.  However... in one corner of the coop is a little Alice-in-Wonderland-sized doorway that leads to a fenced-in corner of the garage.  The previous owner cut that doorway so his dog could go from the kennel to the garage when it got too cold or too wet in the coop.  We had sealed that doorway with mesh wire when we got the chickens, to keep them from getting into the garage.

My husband pulled away that wire today...... and into that fenced in corner of the garage, he put our dog Gracie's old puppy-crate.  Gracie was a border collie/black lab mix, so her crate was a good sized one....... more than big enough to hold a warm blanket and pillow-bed for Mickey Kitty, and still give Mickey some walking-around room.  My husband opened up the door of the crate and put that open door right up to the doorway going from the coop to the garage. Presto!  Mickey now had a little doorway to go through to take him out of the coop and into a warm and safe corner inside the garage..... right to his favorite blanket and his favorite pillow-bed.  He can get out of the cold and the wind coming through the coop but he can't hurt himself on anything in the garage because he's surrounded by that dog crate.

And where is Mickey right now as I type?  In his little bed inside that comfy crate in the garage?  Of course not. He's in the bathroom connected to the TV room..... in another little comfy cat bed in there because the temperature is going down to the mid-30s tonight and I don't want my misbehaving little cat to be cold, either out in the coop or in that corner of the garage.

It's been a rough few days.  For Mickey and for us.  Which is why I am saying, promising, vowing.... no more cats, no more cats, no more cats. Period. End of story.

Spring babies.

Baby cows and baby goats..... cute, cute, cute, especially when you can get up to them real close.

A good while back, a bull from the pasture next door to JS got onto her property, and before the bull's owner could get that animal back on his own side of the fence, "the deed" had been done. The result was a baby calf, born just this past weekend, to one of the cows in JS's yard.  This adorable brown bundle of cow-hide was christened 'Chocolate Chip' by J, and birth announcements went out via eMail to her closest friends.  Mama cow ('Mocha Moo') and baby are doing just fine.... the neighboring bull has long forgotten his liason with Mocha Moo, I'm sure.

My husband and I walked up to JS's property to see the new baby....... Chocolate Chip is just adorable, and on the day we met him, he let us pet his soft ears and scratch the top of his head. He has a tuft of brown hair on top of his head, in sort of an Alfalfa-type of style, similar to the hair-do of Mocha Moo. I have no idea what the bull looks like, but clearly, Chip's good looks come from his mama. The calf's skin was so soft... his ears were like velvet, and I can't even describe the expression in his eyes...... questioning and innocent and trusting.

We had a cold snap the weekend that calf was born... windy all night long, and colder than it should be at this time of the year.  There's no barn on that property for the cows, no place to get out of the wind unless the cows are smart enough to keep moving around the pastures looking for a wind-free zone.  I could never have livestock on our own property.... I'd be out there in the rain and the wind and the cold, ready to wrap everyone up in blankets and lead them into the barn where I'd have a wood stove burning to keep them warm and cozy. Not practical, of course, but that's what I'd want to do.

So who has custody of the baby calf?  The owner of the bull or the owner of the cow?  JS says it's the owner of the cow, since the bull's attention span ends when he's 'finished' with the cow.... and it's the mama cow who will nurture the calf and keep it safe and warm and nourished.

The neighbor across the road from us has had four baby calves in the past couple of months..... all of his cows are big and brown, with just a few having some white markings on their faces. Those baby cows all look like JS's 'Chocolate Chip' even though the bulls who fathered them were different. I guess one brown cow is the same as the next brown cow.

The across-the-road neighbor also has at least six baby goats..... they're running around the pasture now like puppies, chasing one another and crying for their mamas if they're out of sight for three seconds.  The cries from the baby goats are just terribly sad, and they sound like human babies, especially when their cries are carried on the wind from their pastures to ours.  JS says that the baby goats 'hit the ground running,' but they still look so helpless to me. (Something else for me to bundle up in a blanket on a cold windy night.)

No baby cows for us. No baby goats, either.  I feel badly for the baby goats across the road. That particular neighbor raises the goats for meat. Sooner or later, the goats end up on the chopping block, and then in the oven.  Good grief............. it's hard to even think about that.  When we first moved here, that neighbor offered us one of the goats..... he would "fix" it for me, he said, and all I'd have to do is cook it.  (Talk about getting weak in the knees.)  I politely thanked him and said no..... and resisted the urge to tell him that I just couldn't even think about cooking an animal that had just been prancing in a green pasture.

My husband and I walked around our property the other day, checking the bluebird boxes. (Actually, my husband was checking the boxes... I was just walking.)  A bunch of the boxes had nests in them (so neatly built with bits of grass!) and one of the nests had a couple of eggs in it.  We have so many bluebirds on the property... I guess they like the location of the boxes, and there must be enough food in the pastures for them, plus there's always water in the fountain.... all the comforts of home for those pretty little birds.

While we were walking the property, we also found the remains of a very small deer.  The bones weren't all in one spot, either, so my guess is that the coyotes pulled the poor thing apart.  Seeing those bones just about did me in..... so very sad, for that to happen to such a young deer.  I know that old saying about 'the survival of the fittest' in nature, but honestly, a baby is a baby, no matter the species.