The Boy is on a mission that’s doomed to fail. You see, he decided some months ago that he wanted to grow his own vegetables. When he told me this, I was thinking, ‘Wow, how bizarre’, you know, on account of the fact that he probably couldn’t name by sight, all the different varieties that I regularly cook for him. Well, that and he’s kind of a – real man’s man – so, if he were to take up a hobby, I would’ve expected him to construct mopar engines or something along those lines. Hey, not that I’m complaining – I’d rather have a fresh bunch of tomatoes to put in a salad, than a grease-smeared garage floor any day.
First hurdle for him? How to convince me that tearing up one side of our property to build his mini-farm is a good idea. <-Um, nope.
First of my compromises? You get six pots to go on my side deck – knock yourself out.
Second hurdle? How to stop Steven King (our resident evil squirrel) from lounging in said pots and chomping on all the veggie buds. The Boy’s solution? Build a screen enclosure over MY deck. <-Ah, not in this lifetime.
My second compromise? Here’s some netting. Deal with it.
Third hurdle? How to get me not to freak out when I get home and find that all his treasured pots have been moved into our master bathroom because he’s heard there might be a freeze warning. <-WTF???
Third compromise? Ein, there ain’t one. I’ll put up with a lot, but sharing my private space with foiliage that, quite frankly, is getting more attention than I am most days? No way!
So, that brings me to my latest dilemma and how to deal with it. You see, I’ve noticed that we’ve gathered quite an eclectic crew of nature’s finest around the old homestead. Two hawks, an Osprey, a family of bunnies and Steve King’s extended family, to name just a few. And, all of them are circling – by air and land – It’s kinda freaky .
Seeew, my first thought? Madge is at it again. (For those of you who are new to the blog – Madge is my mother who’s hell-bent on feeding any critter that drags itself into the yard) Drives the boy nuts, so naturally she does this totally prohibited sharing on the sly.
I head over to her place (she and dad have an in-law suite that’s attached to our house) and I flat out ask her if she’s feeding the animals more than usual because I think they’re getting organized and may take The Boy’s much loved vegetable pots hostage. She stares at me for a second. I can see those tricky blue eyes of hers gleaming as she thinks about what to say to me.
Me, in a come on kind of fashion: “Mom?”
“Oh! All right! All right! I have. Because ever since my bird house fell over and The Boy put it back up, the birds won’t go into it. So, I’ve been throwing the peanuts and bird seed on the ground”
Which, in the circle of life, explained the rabbits – which explained the hawks and…well, you get where I’m going with this. But that didn’t explain the abandoned aviary condo The Boy had built her for her some years back. Hmm… ?
I grabbed a step ladder and marched out to her backyard. When I climbed up and examined the birdhouse I almost fell off. The bottom of the structure was missing its floor – someone (and WE know who that was) had taken out that piece – leaving nothing but spiky nails poking through. It was, for all intents and purposes? A rack. No wonder it had been abandoned. The discovery of which was bad enough, but when I saw that The Boy had audaciously gone one step further, I was truly impressed. For there, over the tiny arched entranceway, he’d neatly printed in black marker:
‘WELCOME TO MADGE’S DINE AND DIE’.
Crapatola! At that moment it was official. The Boy had been living with me too long. LOL! *shrug* Now, I’m thinking I may relocate the condo. Yes, it might look nice on my deck. hehehe