Monday, July 21, 2008
Another cloudy/foggy morning and I am moving slowly. Take arthritis pill, let the dogs out, make a cappuccino, turn on tv news, check Wetter Network for weather...finally have both eyes open and focusing at the same time. Hmph.
Richard is his usual cheery self. How can anyone be that cheerful and energetic at that time of the day. Ok, so it's 8:30am, so what, that's early for me. He is an "up-and-at-'em" kind of person and I am a "don't-talk-to-me-don't-even-look-at-me-until-I-have-been-up-for-2-hours" kind of person. Sigh, mornings are a constant struggle for me. He is up, eaten, and off out to move the cows to another field so they have some fresh feed before he goes off to work. I am still trying to focus on getting my shoes on the right feet. My siblings and my son are all early risers too. My daughter is, not by choice, but because her profession as a radio producer demands it. I am a late night person, not in bed before midnight, light not out until 1am.
I finally wend my way out to the garden yard. Last night I had discovered a few pea seeds on the potting table, left over from when I planted the patch, still soaking in their jar of now scummy, slimy water. GAK! I tossed them into the climbing rose on the other side of the chicken wire fenced deck as I passed on my way out to the yard.
Nothing new in the pea patch, Mole People MIA; roll up the beach mats, admire the garden boat. Dead head a few flowers, muttering all the while to myself - a life long trait of mine. I notice finally the the "kids" are not with me, figure they must have stayed back in the house, which is unusual.
I wander back towards the house and find 3 of them under my potting table, staring through the chicken wire fence. "What's up guys?" I ask. 3 tails wag, but they don't break their stare. Hmmmm, probably a garden snake. They love to chase snakes. They trot rapidly over to the gate to look out, then back to the potting table. I go and look but see nothing. They, however, have ears perked forward and expectant looks on their faces. From time to time they turn to one another and touch noses, as if in silent communication.
mom, mom, mow pepl'
com see dem
"Must be more than one snake under there" I think to myself.
It's now noon, and the only one left on the deck is Rosie. 5 of my dogs are Bichons. Rosie is a Bichon, but was raised as a puppy in a home with Chihuahuas. We always say she speaks Bichon with a Chihuahua accent, an odd hooting bark and we refer to her as "Rosie Hoot 'n' Holler". As I busy myself in the kitchen I hear her HootHootHooting and go to see what's going on. She has her nose pressed to the wire and tail wagging rapidly. I look and see that the peas I had tossed are now gone. AHA! MOLE PEOPLE! Her hoots have brought the other kids running and now they are all barking and wagging tails. I shake my head and return to the kitchen.
Soon they are back in the house.
mow pepl' gone
we chase 'em away
it safe now
you go bak out?
we have treat?
I hand out biscuits all around. They trot away giving the doggy version of a high five.
I notice that my library card is sitting on the counter instead of out in the van where it should be and pick it up to return it there. Opening the glove box, I see something odd. I have a habit of storing extra ketchup packets in there if Richard and I go out for a burger, and one of the packets has been opened. Um, noooooo, not opened, eaten. Arrrggghh, MOLE PEOPLE! And there is Mole People "sign" all over the inside of the glove box. Eeeewwww, gross! I quickly slam it shut. The nerve of them.
What...are they using the ketchup to dip the stolen peas in? What's next? Will they be grilling peas by moonlight? Slappin' another bean on the bar-bee? Will I have to put a lock on my Outdoor Gas Convection Oven? Lock up my grilling tools? My condiments?
AND WHERE IS MY GARDEN TROWEL!??