The bunnies are almost a week old now. It looks like they are going to make it. We can tell that two are white and one is brown and white, like mom. Don't know if the white babies will be albino or not. Eyes are still closed, fur is growing in, and movement is taking off. Two are spoken for. We only have one who needs a home and I think Sister#2 will cave in and take it. Pictures as soon as they are furry and mobile.
Yesterday was the last day of school. There are five teenagers passed out in one room and the little guys fell asleep in their floor. We had our annual sleep over/cook out/play loud music until mom yells "QUIT IT" party last night. I went to bed at midnight and left Manly Man to handle the chaos. I seem to remember him making it to bed at about 4:00 am. The party goers were much bigger this year. They also ate more.
Since school is out I will have far less laundry. The boys will wear t-shirts and shorts. No more school uniforms and no more blue jeans. Even better, no more sock matching. That's right ourfriendben, no more socks. Yeah. Oh, I forgot, there will still be soccer socks, and baseball socks, and tennis socks, crap.
Summer activities will include baseball, indoor soccer, swimming, and maybe tennis. There will also be a lot of sleeping late and making them help me in the garden. One of them lost an expensive book and now owes me eleven hours of labor to pay me back.
While playing with my site meter, I found that someone from Kathmandu has visited my blog. Cool, right?
Monkey question of the day: Can snakes get the hiccups? Does anyone know?
I have been gardening most of my life. As I have said before, I was introduced to gardening by our grandfather, Daddy Jake. I used to spend spring break with my grandparents on their ranch. If you have ever visited a farm/ranch in March, you know it is one busy place with gardens going in, lambs being born, cattle to be worked. It was a lot of work. I loved following Daddy Jake around while he put in the vegetable plot. My love of gardening started right there in central Texas.
Although I have been gardening a long time, I have made some monster mistakes along the way. The mistake I make every year is over planting. Crowding is just something I cannot seem to avoid or learn from. Morning glories are another one of my weaknesses. I love morning glories. My favorite is heavenly blue, although Grandpa Ott’s purple is a real beauty. We have some that come back every year that are a different pink. I think there must have been some cross pollination between the Ott’s and something else.
The first time I planted morning glories was along the fence in my first vegetable garden. My dad had a peach tree a few feet from this fence. My morning glories grew right up off of the fence and into the peach tree. Dad wanted to pull them out. I had a fit and fell in it, so the vines stayed in the tree. Did I mention that I was 13 and a real teenage drama queen?
This was the same garden that our Great Dane, Missy, decided to jump around in on a fine afternoon. Ever tried to stop a 100 pound Great Dane from dancing on your squash? Good times. That same dog had thirteen puppies a few months later. Karma paid her back.
Ok, here is the real rookie mistake I made about four years ago. I was out for a walk and came across a really pretty blue morning glory growing on a fence out in the middle of nowhere. I really liked this little blue morning glory, so I gathered some seeds and brought them home with me. I dutifully scattered them along the fence of my vegetable garden, just like I had done with the heavenly blues that grew into the peach tree in my first garden. That’s right; I intentionally planted wild morning glories in my tiny garden. I didn’t know. I really had no idea that they would try to take over the universe. I did not know that they make a bazillion seeds and these seeds spread everywhere. So now, every year for months and months, I try to get rid of all the wild blue morning glories. Looks like Karma paid back that teenage drama queen.
Yesterday we had thunderstorms all day. I did not put my rain gages out, so I don't know how much rainfall we had, but the ground is saturated. I was grateful for the timing of these storms as I had just sewn some seeds. I planted corn, beans, and squash in the Three Sisters style as well as purple hulled cow peas.
I went outside this morning to check and see what had gone on overnight and discovered a lot of seedlings. Some were from the seeds I had planted but most were wild morning glories. That's right, WILD MORNING GLORIES-CRAP. I am going to be really busy taking care of this problem or they will take over the garden in just a few days. These morning glories are my fault, but that's another story.
I am always amazed at how green and lush my garden looks after storms. I always thought that rainwater was just way better for the plants than city water. However, after doing a little reading, I found another reason why plants may thrive after a thunderstorm. Air is 78% nitrogen. Lightning fixes some of this nitrogen. The fixed nitrogen is dissolved in the rain and falls to earth. This "fixed" nitrogen is in a form the plants can use. Pretty cool.
BTW we have baby bunnies again. I kind of let the subject go before, because the first litter did not make it. First time rabbit mom's are not usually successful. This litter is four days old and mom is doing a good job. Mario is again banished to the dog kennel. Starr is much happier with him out of the hutch. I can't imagine why.
I got the call. Will you bring beans to the cookout? My family is going to have a pot luck Memorial Day party. The meat course is hot dogs-cricket chirps. Apparently, wedding dress shopping is more important than, say, brisket.
Do I go to the store, buy a couple of cans of baked beans, and call it a day? NOOOO. I buy four cans of pork-n-beans and add BBQ sauce, molasses, spicy brown mustard, onions, garlic, balsamic vinegar, bacon, and about a pound of brown sugar. These beans are dessert.
The sour dough bread is rising on the counter. I fed the starter last night and left it out to make a sponge. The kitchen smells like yeast, yum. I have tried to teach someone how to make this bread. No one will learn, sad. The tricks are honey and kneading with a very soft hand. Grandpa M taught me how to knead bread when I was a little girl. He just couldn't stand by and watch me pound on the bread dough like it had done something bad.
Baby Monkey is home alone with me today. He had to come home from a sleepover last night because of an earache. Poor Baby Monkey, first a wasp sting and then an earache. He can't win. We are enjoying the day together. He found some ripe blackberries earlier and we are going to make cobbler.
Eat your heart out other sisters. I AM the cook.
Just so you know, the other sisters could care less about competitive cooking. All they care about is the bread. Well, eating the bread not making it.
This is what I have been working on instead of blogging.
Do you have a low-lying area in your landscape that is a nuisance because it holds water? Consider creating a bog garden. This garden style contains interesting plants that thrive in a very moist environment. These plants include grasses, perennials, and water plants. It can be an area full of blooms. Building a bog garden provides a habitat for frogs, butterflies, hummingbirds, dragonflies, and many other animals.
In addition to providing interest in the landscape, a bog garden plays a role in rainwater management. The bog slows the movement of the rainwater and filters the water. This can help with storm water management by reducing flooding and pollution caused by storm water run off.
To create a bog garden begin by selecting an area that naturally holds some water and excavate about two feet of soil. In this area add a layer of stone or rubble and then a layer of course soil. The bog will begin to fill with decaying plant matter over time and create a natural bog. The bog should not hold more than one foot of water. Use flat rocks as planting shelves. Place the most moisture loving plants in the lower lying areas of the bog and more drought tolerant plants toward the edges. Provide visual interest by contrasting color, texture, and plant height. Be careful not to overcrowd the garden. It is essential that a bog garden stay moist. For more information on building a bog garden go to http://www.ee.enr.state.nc.us/garden/boggarden.htm
Some Bog Garden Plant Choices Iris Lily Umbrella Sedge Bog sage Zebra Grass Pickerel Lizard’s Tail Ribbon Grass Elephant Ear
The sock poll has closed. Fifteen readers participated in this silliness. Forty percent of those who voted want to keep their socks. Therefore, I can keep my fuzzy socks without fear of a visit from the sock police. Anklettes with pompoms were the least favorite socks. Five voters said we should ditch them. Only three people wanted to get rid of knee socks with the colored bands. I was surprised at this. Everytime I see someone wearing them, I think of the 70's and shorts that were waaay too short. Finally ourfriendben was all by himself in wanting to get rid of socks completely. Cinj did say she agreed with him in the comments, but her vote did not show up on the poll. So sorry ourfriendben, socks are here to stay, but we can't make you wear them.
I promise to try to take this blog a little more seriously, but don't count on it.
Fire Ants. Need I say more. Well I don't but I'm going to.
This afternoon I was setting up to weed in the garden and plant some peppers. I have a three gallon container that I use to hold the weeds and move them to the compost pile. I have not moved the container in about a week. It was sitting in an area where I thought a fire ant pile had been taken care. A while back I drenched it with a mound drench of orange oil and molasses in water. Well the little Brazilian monsters were back and had made a mound up inside the container. I was not aware of this and took the container full of mad ants to the compost pile. Ants fell out on my feet legs and middle. I have fire ant stings from my waist to my toes. I won't go into the exact locations, but it was bad, very very bad. Put it this way, I had to strip to get them all off of me.
So now I am mad. I don't care about fire ants as long as they stay away from where I am working and where the boys are playing. I have been told that they eat fleas and ticks. The problems only comes up when they get in my garden or under the swing set, trampoline, or in the log cabin play house. Then they have to die.
I use spinosad with pretty good results. It just takes a long time. The mound drench is pretty effective and very satisfying. I love drowning them as revenge for stinging me. Double Danger had a hint about using coffee on the mounds. Supposedly, they eat it and explode or something. I tried fresh ground coffee beans on two mounds and it seemed to work. Now I am mad enough I want to do something more. So I go on the interweb and find more wacky ways to kill fire ants. I found suggestions such as cayenne pepper and corn starch, instant grits, artificial sweetener, and borax. I didn't have borax or instant grits. I did have chili pequin, corn starch, artificial sweetener, spinosad, and coffee. I mixed all that stuff up and dumped it on the three mounds. I will let you know tomorrow if it worked. We will call this Mad Aunt Debbi's Fire Ant Killing Concoction or MADFAKC. Never mind, I need to work on that a little.
Oh yeah, my teenager called me a communist because I made him study. Looks like he needs to pay more attention in social studies. This is not a communist state. This is a dictatorship and I am the Queen.
I was woke up this morning by a very obviously upset Manly Man yelling, "What did you do?' I got up and found that Baby Monkey's face, neck, and shoulder were covered in blue ink. He had "bit" an ink cartridge during the night. Now tell me why you would get up in the middle of the night, take a pen apart, and bite the ink cartridge? WHY?WHY?WHY?WHY?
Yesterday, I found the giant sheet of bubble wrap in the bathtub. It was wet. Someone had taken a bath with it. Sister#2 says this makes sense as they may have been using it as a floatation devise. I asked her to raise them. She declined.
Later, my mother calls. She is in a big box store with Middle Monkey and one of the girl cousins. I think this is odd as it is the middle of the day. Apparently, she went to eat lunch with the two of them at school and somehow the little creatures talked her into taking them with her when she left. My mother, the woman who never fell for anything and never, I mean never ever, allowed us to miss school unless we were on our death bead, this woman signed those kids out of school early. Did hell freeze over?
Now I have a confession. I have three pairs of fuzzy socks. I love my fuzzy socks. I hate it when my feet are cold. I have been known to wear these fuzzy socks with gardening clogs while taking my boys to school. You should see how fast they can get out of the truck when I do. If socks are going to be outlawed, I am going to become a fuzzy sock wearing criminal. You won't take me alive. I will die with my socks on. There are three days left in the sock poll. So far Ourfriendbenis losing quite badly. You could give him and hand and leave me to my life of crime or you could make an honest woman out of me and save the fuzzy socks.
This is one of my Fairy rosebushes. This one is being bullied by a Mutabalis that I planted to close to her. This little beauty still peeks out and blooms for me. The roses dry almost perfectly.
Above is my Confederate jasmine growing on the deck railing. This stuff smells like heaven. There is nothing more pleasant that sitting out on the deck in the evening listening to my little water fountain and smelling the scent of this vine.
Here is a French hollyhock just before Abby tramples it. My dog thought the camera was about her, not the stupid plant.
Now an undamaged French hollyhock in the front yard where the dog cannot get to it.
There was a master weaver in a tribe of Plains Comanche. Everyone in the tribe had one of his creations and it was always a prized possession. He made blankets, robes, and mats.
The weaver realized his time on Earth was drawing to a close. As his last piece of work he began his death blanket. He gathered all the plants for dye and the wool to create his masterpiece. Several months later he completed the blanket. That evening, the weaver died in his sleep.
With great respect, the tribe placed the weaver on the burial platform wrapped in the blanket. When the Great Spirit came to take the weaver to heaven, he was amazed by the beauty of the blanket and the respect of the tribe for the weaver. As a gift to the people, the Great Spirit sends flowers in the colors of the beautiful blanket each spring.
Middle Monkey is playing his first season of baseball. Tonight he made his first home run. In fact, on his first hit during a game, he hit a home run. The crowd went wild. Oddly, Middle Monkey made the Hook Em' Horns sign as he crossed home. Coach L. picked up Middle Monkey in celebration. Middle Monkey is the happiest boy in the world.
We just hope Opa doesn't find out about the hand sign. Opa is an Aggie and will be hurt. Sister#2 will be pleased. She is a Longhorn. The family rivalry will begin again and it is not even football season yet. One time, at a brother's A&M graduation, Sister#2 and her family wore burnt orange shirts and gave the Hook Em' Horns sign instead of saying cheese during pictures with the graduate. It gets bad fast. Wisely, I went to UNT and can avoid all the insults and craziness.
Now I will completely change the subject. Earlier today I admitted that I hate to fold socks. This is all VP's fault with her meme. Anyway, many of my bloggy buddies have strong feelings about socks. I put up that poll over there on the right. If you have strong feelings about socks, vote. Do not bring up black socks or any socks for that matter worn with sandals. We will not go there. It is universally wrong. Long live the sock revolution.
If the spacing is messed up on this post, it is bloggers fault. I did everything I could to fix it.
It seems like a long time ago Dee at Red Dirt Ramblings tagged me. Well it is raining outside and now is the perfect opportunity to play this book tag game as well as the meme VP at Veg Plotting graced me with. This is also an excellent reason for putting off using this rainy day to clean up my office and catch up on my sewing. Thanks ladies.
Okay, I will start with the book tag. Here are the rules. Pick a book of at least 123 pages. Open the book to the 123rd page. Find the fifth sentence. Post the next five sentences.
I bought the 'Southern Kitchen Garden." by William D Adams and Thomas R. Leroy while at the Master Gardener Convention a few weeks ago. Happily I was able to here My Leroy speak on the subject.
Here is what page 123 has to offer.
"While there are a number of ways to irrigate, low-volume systems like drip or microsprinkler are the most efficient way to apply water. Leaky tubing is another low-volume system that works well in the kitchen garden. If these systems are set up with a time clock, you can almost forget the the time-consuming drudgery of watering. Of course, it is good therapy to water the garden by hand occasionally, and the "hands-on" approach is best when you are planting seed or setting out transplants. It is most efficient to utilize water during periods of low temperature and light winds."
Next is VP's meme Here are the rules. Link to the person who tagged you. Post six random things about yourself. Tag six people. Let each person know they have been tagged by commenting on their blog. Let the blogger who tagged you know that your entry is up.
1. I am not a morning person. 2. My goldfish think I am god. 3. I hate folding socks. 4. I have recently lost five pounds. 5. I have been told that I talk to myself while I garden. Really, I am just responding to the voices. 6. I post about the sisters all of the time, but I have just as many brothers.
Feel free to play one, both, or neither of these games. This is just for fun. Don't play if you don't want to and no tag backs. I really need to clean my office and sew.
Okay, there were way to many very strong opinions about socks. Ourfriendben and Silence Dogood actually ranted. To set the record straight I set up a poll. Over there under my profile on the sidebar. Let your opinion about socks be known.
I pulled up the garlic and red onions this evening. Tomorrow I will most likely have poison ivy. I didn't see the poison ivy until I was almost halfway through pulling the garlic. I used the Tecnu soap, hopefully it works. My yellow onions were harvested about three weeks ago. They made better bulbs than the red onions. Did exactly the same thing with both of them. I don't know what happened. I killed the weeds and poison ivy with boiling water. In the next few days I will plant cucumbers in place of the garlic and and peppers in place of the onions.
On a completely unrelated tangent, can anyone translate teenager? Here is one more. Does anyone know why a nine-year-old would put bubble wrap in the bathtub? VP tagged me last week and tomorrow I hope to play.
I had another one of those "I should never have to say this" moments. I come out of the kitchen and see Baby Monkey Doing this. I holler, "Do not climb the walls!" I think to myself, "How did it get here?" Turns out he was only trying to open the attic door and put my luggage away for me. Yes, the same luggage I took to Conroe two weeks ago. Bless his little pea pickin heart, he was just trying to help me.
I kid you not. While driving home from the baseball field, on Main Street, in town we were dive bombed by a buzzard. There it was, a full sized turkey buzzard flying down the middle of the street. It flew right at us and then swerved to the right. We barely missed it. Boy, that would have been a smelly mess. I am not hallucinating. Baby Monkey saw it too. He was so scared he dropped his snack.
Winecup or poppy mallow - Calirhoe involucrate is a low growing sprawling perennial with beautiful wine-colored cup- shaped flowers. They are blooming all along our roadways here in North Texas.
Native Americans used the roots as a food source. The root is sweet and starchy.
I found a Native American legend, which tells of the wine cups origin. The old king was sick. Many feared that he would die soon. The doctors call the king’s oldest son to the kings bedside.
As he cried over his father, the boy had an idea. He would dance the Dance of the Winecups as a final tribute to his father.
The boy began to dance while balancing cups of wine in his palms. As he danced, he began to spin faster and faster spilling drops of wine on the ground.
The next morning he returned to his father’s bedside. He found his father chatting with friends and eating. The gods were so impressed with the boy’s dance that they had restored his father’s health. On the ground where the drops of wine fell while the boy had danced the evening before beautiful cup-shaped wine-colored flowers had sprouted. I found some great information at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center website http://www.wildflower.org/ There is a whole section on wildflower ledgends. Check it out.
Now if you have a wildflower post or link or just something wild, leave me a comment and I will link you.
Matt and Jen at Our First Garden went camping and got some great wildflower shots. Check them out.
I am tired. Today I fit in a broke down 1971 VW Bug, two maintenance customers, getting monkeys and monkeys' cousins to and from school, and two master gardener committee meetings in two different parts of the county. I will be back tomorrow with the wild flower of the week. I think we will talk about Gilardia. I am too tired to look up Gilardia if it is misspelled I apologize.
Bye bye and good night.
I almost forgot. Remember when we were worried about an alien invasion. Okay, the weird eyeball-like thing was actually a gall. Well, explain this. There is an X, that's right a giant X mowed in my front lawn. Do you think it was Martians or Monkeys?
As many of you know, I am dedicated to composting. I love compost. I like it when things rot. This week is International Compost Awareness Week. Here is the link for information and the Composting Council website.
In the past I have made cold compost, which breaks down in its' own sweet time and container composted when I lived in an apartment. Now I have three different composting situations going on. There is the worm bin. The worms are feed vegetable food scraps, egg shells, coffee grounds, and tea bags. The bin is a bottomless wooden box sitting on the ground by the rabbit hutch. The worms and worm compost are covered with a layer of my shredded bills. I love feeding my worms our bills.
I also have a regular compost pile. This is were I wage my war trying to create hot compost. I have not been able to heat up this pile over 105 since I started this blog. Therefore, it must be the blogs fault. As of right now, it is 100 degrees. I want it to be 120. That compost pile gets weeds, pasta, rice, moldy bread, bunny poo, and vegetable oils. I know, I know, don't but anything greasy in your compost pile. Well, I'm not buying it. The oil breaks down just like the rest of the stuff. In fact, after I poor oil into the center of the pile it heats up a little for a couple of days. That is a clear sign of microbial activity. So vegetable oil composts. The only other options we would have with oils are poor it down the drain (bad idea) or send it to the landfill (horrible idea). I feel it needs to be returned to the earth.
The third composting project I have going on is to pull weeks and lay them on the ground that has not been planted. This smothers weeds in the fallow areas and enriches the soil. After about two weeks, the pulled weeds have done there job and the areas is ready to be planted. This saves a lot of time and work. I just remove the weed mulch and the ground is pretty much prepared for me. Just a little cultivating and a little bit of nitrogen and it is good to go.
I have to add that Meme is now saving her vegetable scraps for me. She had two gallon bags full of stuff for me yesterday. Go MEME. Remember when I stole her garbage. She mentioned starting her own pile. I am so proud my Meme is growing into a gardener/environmentalist. Mamala also saves scraps for my worms. The worms are thankful. Favorite Sister and Sister #2 both have the container composting set up. They are doing well. Sister #2 actually was able to harvest about a half gallon of compost after just a few weeks. The trick to that is to freeze the scraps before putting them in the container. This damages the cell walls of the food scraps and the stuff breaks down faster after if thaws.
I should explain that the title of Favorite Sister can be applied to any sister who has done something for me. It changes as the wind blows. Favorite Sister made me my pretty header up there. If Sister #2 or Baby Sister do something nice for me, they will get to be Favorite Sister and the current Favorite Sister will become Sister #3 until she does something nice for me. Now don't think I am being selfish. We all do this. When we are together you will hear things like, "If you bring me a coke, you will be my favorite sister" or this, "If you change my baby's diaper, you will be my favorite sister. " We are all pretty fickle. Fortunately, I have a bunch of great sisters.
These things came off of my neighbors oak tree. The little ball is opaque, gelatinous, and has something green inside it. It is stuck to the leaf. the other is a hollow ball of something. Maybe a gall? Something is shedding white stuff. Probably the big ball. My mouse is in the background for scale. Anybody have any idea what in the world these things are?
I never cease to be amazed at the number and types of blogs. Mostly I read gardening blogs. I also have a few others that I visit mostly because there is a great story or the writer is very interesting. I read one daily that is in a field of it's own. The blog is Tomato Casual. There are several writers and a new tomato related post daily. Recently Michael Nolan did a spot light on my blog, which made me feel very honored. Check out the site. There are recipes, planting information, funny stories, and a lot more. Today's post was on companion planting.
I also read Poor Richard's Almanac each day. There is always an interesting post by Ourfriendben, Silence Dogood, or Richard Saunders. The writing is excellent and covers various topics. Sometimes there are great recipes. Check them out too.
Of course I go to Blotanical everyday. There are hundreds of great blogs and interesting information to roam through. I have cyber meet some of the nicest people. In fact, that is where I found Tomato Casual and Poor Richard's Almanac.
I had to come back and add one more. Rees at Green Side Up posted about square watermelon today.
You can see on my sidebar that there are many other blogs that I like to read. I have them linked for quick access and because I think if you are visiting here, you might enjoy visiting over there.
A Dr. Van Fleet rosebush attacked a school bus on the afternoon of 5/5/08. The bush had grown out of a yard and onto the pavement of First Street. Thirty forth graders on board the bus were saved by a weed wacker welding Manly Man. Mr. Man arrived just in time to keep the bush from puncturing the tires and taking over the bus by brute force. The Tiny Town Texas police voiced shock and awe at size and thorniness of this monster plant. An emergency meeting of the Tiny Town Texas Garden Club convened in order to discuss tactics to keep the monster under control to avoid further incidence. The Antique Rose Society of Tiny Town Texas launched an investigation into allegations of illegal growth hormone and fertilizer use by Aunt Debbi. There have been reports of other attacks by the same rosebush in outlying areas of Tiny Town Texas. The victims were unsuspecting husbands whose wives took a cutting of the rose not knowing what it was. The husbands were all innocently mowing their lawns when the attacks occurred. A fund is being set up to provide Band-Aids for the victims.
Dr. Van Fleet a hybrid wichuran rambler is a 15 x 10 foot rambling rosebush. It will put out roots wherever it touches the ground. Dr. Walter Van Fleet introduced it in 1910. New Dawn is a sport of this rosebush.
I went for a ride in my truck today looking for my wild flower of the week. The trip started in Combine and went through Warsaw, Scurry, Cottonwood, Peel Town, Styx, and ended in Lively. I went into the Lively Store and bought myself a Mountain Dew. This was turning out to be a great day.
Several times during this trip, I pulled over on the side of the road, careful to avoid any flowers, and took pictures. Three different ranchers pulled over to make sure I did not need any help. Apparently, it is not quite normal for a woman to wander around in the ditches in Styx, Lively, or Scurry. I would think that with town names such as those they would have their share of characters. The folks along the way were friendly and helpful. Farmers waved from tractors and each truck I passed gave the two-fingered Texas Wave. The radio even played ZZ Top and Stevie Ray Vaughan for me.
I guess I should get to the point now. So here it is my wild flower of the week.
Indian paintbrush or Castillejaindivisa.
This flower has a wonderful story. Legend has it that a young brave became frustrated when he tried to paint a sunset with his war paints. He asked the Great Spirit for guidance. The Great Spirit gave him paintbrushes laden with the colors he wanted. He painted a beautiful sunset and left the paintbrushes in the fields. The paintbrushes sprouted the flowers we see today. The flowers are actually white . The red/orange we see are leaf like bracts.
If you would like to share a wild flower, leave me a message and I will link the post. It doesn't have to be a wild flower. Last time I linked a raccoon. Why not, lets do it again. I like to see wild flowers, wild life, and general wildness.
I didn't get any players this week, so I went out and found a wild flower post on Blotanica. From Digging are Hill Country Wildflowers right here in Texas. Check it out.
Yesterday, Baby Monkey and I went to the greenhouse. Miss Nancy took him to show him the tadpoles that were swimming around in her pool. Baby monkey went to the truck and came back to us with his soccer water jug. He begged for tadpoles to take home. I caved in and we had a bowl of baby frogs on your front porch all night.
This morning I went with Mamala to the quilt store. On the way back I asked to stop at the water garden store in Mesquite. Well, three fan tailed goldfish, five mosquito fish or Gambusia affinis, a bag of something called water grass, a plastic half whiskey barrel, a little pump, and a shaker of fish food later I now have the equipment to raise these tadpoles in a way tadpoles were never supposed to be raised. If you spoil a tadpole will it leave when it becomes a frog? This happens to every parent. There is no such thing as a free puppy. Apparently, in my world there is no such thing as a free tadpole.
I was assured that the goldfish would not eat the tadpoles and that the mosquito fish would eat the mosquitoes. I was also educated in the use of water plants for oxygen in the water vs. the need for a pump or fountain to move the water. I was told that in my half whiskey barrel, the water grass would take care of everything. I bought the little pump anyway. I’m glad I did. I like the way the water moves.
I brought all the stuff home and went to get Baby Monkey from school. We set up the whole system together. The pictures above are the boys putting their fish in the newly set up water garden. They named them. Let me see if you can figure out which fish belongs to which Monkey. There is Ketchup, Yang, and Ozzy Osbourne. Any guesses? Anyone?
To top off the experience, Baby Monkey and Teenage Monkey got into an argument and Teenage Monkey held the door closed so Baby Monkey could not get inside. I was outside with Baby Monkey. I yelled at Teenage Monkey and told Baby Monkey to move out of my way so I could open the door and put the fear of Mom into Teenage Monkey. Baby Monkey tripped and fell in the new water garden. It only took thirty minutes for one of them to fall in it. I think that might be a new record.
Guess what? I now want all the water plants they have at the water garden store. This is going to be bad, very very bad.