It froze here last night. To you on the Prairies, that may not be such a big deal, but to me here on the Island, it is awful. We don't usually get frost until late November, early December so this frost is way too early. And it killed my tomato plants, sniff. Yes, yes, I know I was going to pull them anyway but gee, they look so sad all frozen and dead out there in the garden boat.
So I yanked them today, tossed them over the fence for the deer to eat. Now the front half of the boat is really empty. It's funny what freezes and what doesn't. Tomatoes of course, and that lone yellow zucchini that was stuck there in the middle of them; the purple basil; the top half of the marigolds; the pineapple sage; oh and that lone eggplant in amongst the petunias that I forgot was there and never bore fruit. But the petunias didn't flinch, still blooming their hearts out. As is the Lemon Thyme, the Echinacea, and the tiny White Chrysanthemums.
Over on the metal table by the house - the one that I only had a tarp big enough to cover half the plants, so had to sacrifice some - the zinnias froze and so did my one pot of tuberous begonias and impatiens, even though it was covered. OOOOPS. A large pot of fuchsias lost all its blossoms to frost but the plant is ok. And those 8 pots of lovely red impatiens? The ones sitting on the old barbecue stand, under the King apple tree? Froze right off...and the pot of red wax begonias sitting below it did too. Not a pretty sight.
Ooooh and that old wheelbarrow of mine, that I have had forever, the one that has so many holes in the bottom I had to cover it with plastic so it would hold the dirt for the plants. The one that has half of the plastic wheel missing on the front, that had been full of pretty impatiens and was sitting under the Gravenstein apple tree - yeah, that one - well, all the plants in it are frozen too.
Bente came over for a short visit this afternoon. I had called her and told her I had a pan of Cinnamon Bun Bread cooling on the counter. She called me a Bitz, I laughed and then she drove over for a cappuccino and a bite of bread. Needless to say, her Danish sweet tooth kicked in and she really enjoyed it. It's from a recipe I found online at Breadworld.com called Cinnamon Swirl. Really sweet, but really good, and really easy to make! By the time I thought to take a photo of it, it was mostly gone. Yes, it IS that good.
After she left, I took the dogs out in the yard, deactivated the doggy mines I could find and took some photo's of the sad looking garden boat and frozen plants. On my way back in I did my usual and wiped my feet on the old carpet on the deck outside the door. THANK GOD I DID. Somehow I missed deactivating a doggy mine, and in my photo taking mode I stepped right on one, exploding it all over the bottom of my shoe. AAAAARRRRGGGHH!
My shoes have this tread that is really deep and really hard to dig "stuff" out of. I made a triple scrunchy face and my eyes went real slitty, and yes, I DID say a swear. Then I scraped it off the rug on the deck, covered the "residue" with dirt, took my shoe out onto the grass across the drive and wiped as much off as possible. Then into the bathroom to wipe and dig with toothpicks to finish cleaning it, sigh. You would think I would learn to watch where I put my feet.
After dinner, the Cute Little Island Mule Deer came up into the yard as usual and the dogs went crazy with barking, as usual. And the deer ignored them, as usual. I watched them through the kitchen window for a while, then went into the livingroom to surf baking blogs and watch a bit of television. Love those reruns of NCIS.
The dogs settled on the back of the sofa, Rosie and Mason dosing and keeping an eye out for deer monsters. About 9pm, something caught my eye right outside the patio door, about 3 feet from where Mason was laying. It was a young, Cute Little Island Buck Mule Deer, with his eye on my Scarlet Geraniums. Mason twitched...Mason blinked...Mason shook his head in disbelief and then shot up off the sofa barking ferociously, throwing himself at the glass. The deer took Mason at his word and fled, rapidly. Mason trotted around, chest puffed out, tail wagging, proud of himself for chasing the monsters away. I laughed and praised him for being such a great guard dog.
But the Mole People got the last laugh on me. Before bed, I went out on the deck to get an apple from the plastic bins we have stored there and discovered 6 apples with tiny teeth marks. My eyes went slitty again, and I said two swears.
Of course, they HAD to nibble the six best apples in the bin.
One nibble out of each apple.
Oh well, the Cute Little Island Mule Deer will be pleased with their new apples. They're not put off by Mole People spit.
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