Dog Club ... Together Again

We always called it Dog Club, when Maggie, Bear, Jack, and Eddie would congregate on the bed in the morning. (Eddie was an honorary dog.) And yesterday we said goodbye to the last of the members -- old Maggie.

We've known this was coming -- she's grown more and more senile and anxious, increasingly terrified of thunderstorms and even rain. She would only go outside for the briefest necessary visits -- and then she became incontinent. 

It was time. I like to think the others were waiting for her and now she's running unafraid through those forever fields of moonlight.

(I wrote this some time ago... Maggie's been looking for her friends for quite a while now)

Moonlight floods the room

Scents of all outdoors drift through the open window.

 Old Maggie rouses, stiffly paces, 

Stands beside our bed, waiting.

Outside the night is calling.

Somewhere out there, Bear and Jack,

Dead these two years,

Course the forever fields.

The old dog waits.

 Released at last, she stands on the porch,

Nose tasting the air,

Then sets off, hind legs stiff,

 A slow trot into the moonlit night.

 

Two hours later, she returns, dancing with excitement,

A young dog again, it seems.

Where have you been and what have you seen, Maggie?

She keeps her counsel

But her eyes are full of moon light . . .

Her adventure past,

The old dog lies down to pleasant dreams.

 
 Maggie, aka Magnolia McGee McGoo McGurk
 1998(?) - 2012

Dinosaurs in the Barnyard

There's no definitive answer yet but many scientists feel that birds are directly descended from dinosaurs . . .

These teenage birds -- destined not for the freezer but for our laying flock -- 

have a real velociraptor look to them, in my opinion . . .

It's easier to see in a big bird like an emu or an ostrich but even these barnyard biddies have a certain pitiless T-rex glare . . .  just as well they aren't bigger. . .

 

Blooming

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Dream Too Big

 

Many from Few

 
Impatiens are so easy to root that it's hard to resist.. . .
  this is my second or maybe third batch this year.

I love watching the roots snake out like undersea creatures . . .
Another week and I'll pot these up and start the process over again.    
The tall green leaves are pineapple sage -- no roots yet.

Many thanks for all the kind words about Eddie. I miss him and his ornery ways. 

 

Eddie

Alas, our beautiful, surly, mysterious Eddie is gone. We found him yesterday morning under the bed, obviously very sick and almost comatose. I carried him to the back porch to clean him up and suddenly he rallied and scuttled off under the house. 

But by the time John got to him, Eddie was dead.  He had been fine the day before and we suspect poison or snakebite.

  Eddie was in no way a sweet cat but his was a distinctive personality. 

I'll miss him.

In the Garden

 The rain let up for a few days and yesterday I was able to get in the garden. I did a bit of weeding and sowed some corn, as well as setting out some basil  and a  rosemary plant -- purported to be hardy in our climate.  We'll see.

 Above -- a bed crowded with garlic chives, thyme, and rue (the yellow flowered stuff.)

 What does one do with rue, anyway? It's very bitter. 

I planted it because I like its other name:Herb of Grace.

The first of the Japanese iris are blooming . . .
And late in the afternoon, it rained -- perfect for that corn that just got in the ground!

 

Community Quilting

Our community doesn't make as many quilts as we did twenty years ago . . . but now and again there's a reason. Kathryn's daughter  was getting married and so she organized a quilt.  These pictures are from February -- I've not posted them before this because our quilts are always meant to be surprises and I couldn't say anything till the quilt was finished and presented.

 We were fortunate to be able to quilt in a friend's beautiful studio . . .

  The designer chose a pinwheel pattern 

and bright tone-on-tone fabrics . . .

                                                This studio is a quilter's dream . . .

Lots of tiny stitches go into a quilt . . .

Quilting is a wonderful way of getting together with friends . . .

 Getting together, catching up. venting -- another name for the sessions is 'stitch and bitch.'

I don't remember any bitching on this day.

Flowers, Foliage, and the Occasional Bug