Critters



For the last few posts, I have been teasing you about some freaky bird-chicken-hawk-foghorn-leghorn-falcony-owl thing that Keith has been watching in the backyard and a philosphical discussion about what actually defines “edible”. Well, get up off those pins and needles you’ve been sitting on, here we go.

A few weeks ago, my main squeeze, the love of my life, (and my personal chef! Bless him. I requested Beef Stroganoff tonight. Guess what smells SOOO good as I type this? Yup. You may begin your jealousy…NOW) saw a large bird in the backyard, behind the gardens, sort of hanging out in the brush (or is it “scrub”? You know. There.) Here’s a reenactment of the conversation that occurred when he showed me the picture.

 

Him: What do you think it is?

Me: That’s a falcon I think.

Him: I think it could be an owl.

Me: I don’t know. Zoom in. Nah, that’s a hawk or a falcon or something. Look at the tail. Can you zoom in some more?

Him: Look at the face, that looks like an owl.

b

Me: It’s a ChickenHawk. Boy, I say, Boy. That’s a ChickenHawk (in my best Foghorn Leghorn).

Him: Maybe it is a hawk. See that beak?

(Ok, now we’re getting real Audobon Society over here now…)

Me: (Thinking I am hilarious with my whole Foghorn Leghorn imitation of the conversation he had with Henery (spelled correctly, thank you Google!) Hawk.) Boy, I say Boy…

Him: (Searching the web and ignoring me. Shows me a picture.) Well, this one looks like it, but the tail’s not right.

Me: That’s what I’ve been – I say, that’s what I’ve been telling you, boy!

Him: I found it. This is definitely it. It’s a Cooper’s Hawk. Check it out. It’s got the face of an owl, but that beak and tail like what was in the back yard.

Me: (Noting that my antics were just not getting any attention, decided to give up on immitating Foghorn Leghorn.) (Ok, it was because, quite frankly, I couldn’t remember any more quotes and I had said, ‘Boy, I say, Boy’ so many times, I was irritating myself.) Think he’s eating the moles out there?

(Yes, that is the entire story, worth waiting for, huh? Stick with me, there’s much more where this came from…)

***

I think the newest definition of edible will have to wait until next time.  (Although, I will tell you, I know for a fact that his Beef Stroganoff is edible. Ok, that sounded risque’. I mean the dish on the stove, you silly goose!)

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My mosquito haiku…ahem

Dreaded mosquitos

I beg you, stop biting me

It makes me itchy

First topic: Garlic Scapes.  I was quite disappointed to see Scapes at the Farmers’ Market. We didn’t have any. Waah. Garlic Scapes were one of the things, besides Husk Cherries, that we discovered when members of the CSA a few years ago. Nummy. So, when I weeded the Chef’s Garden and didn’t see any Scapes, I was bummed, to say the least. Great. What kind of Garlic did we buy cuz I didn’t want to buy it again. I want scapes (in my best Veruca  impression, “But I want an Oompaloompa now!) 

The next day, what to my wondering eyes should appear? Garlic Scapes. Lots of them.  Whoopee!

Now what? I didn’t like the Garlic Scape pesto recipe I used last year.

Topic #2. I weeded. What? What are you saying, Mr. Dandelion? You’re telling me that if you weed a little bit each day, it is an easier task than waiting until 2 months into the season? Kiss my ass and then rot in the compost heap. On a good note, I found carrot, parsnip and cucumber seedlings. Hooray. I also found some husk cherry and a few tomato seedlings. That’s kind of cool. We’ve had that happen before – a tomato would fall from the vine and leave a seed in the ground, only to make it through the Winter and start growing in the Spring. I had to pull the tomatoes. This was the same garden bed that had the tomatoes last year and we were hit by the late season blight. After doing some reading (thank you Google and several gardening blogs I have decided to follow), I read that you need to not plant tomatoes in the same bed for three years, so I figured I wouldn’t risk it. I pulled that baby and gave it a little heave into the “pile” on top of the twigs, sticks and icky, decomposed things.

On a bad (good?) note, I think I weeded anything that might have been a beet.

Topic #3. Surprise. Our Green Beans are beaning. Greening? Green Beaning? Sporting Beanage? (sniggle).  We ate tonight’s harvest for dinner tonight!

 Yes, Mom, I’m eating my veggies! All 5 of them. Ooh, so full. (This is the type of veggie serving where you really hoped Mom would say, “You can’t eat any dessert until you eat all your green beans.” “Done. No, I didn’t spit them in my napkin. No, I didn’t feed them to the dog. I really ate them, see?” as you wave your napkin to show it is empty & waggle your tongue to show there are no green beans hidden underneath.)

Funny how I used to HATE green beans as a kid. Hate. Gag, actually. I really did. I couldn’t wash them down with milk either because I hated milk. Guh. I don’t care how much chocolate syrup you put in milk, I just can not handle the stuff. (I just realized I’m making this frowny-wrinkled-frown-‘ick’-face as I type this. I suppose that in normal, literary descriptive terms it would be, ‘She wrinkled her nose,’ but I’ve got this whole mouth-turned-down-eyebrows-and-nose-squinched-face on like I just smelled something awful.) Back to green beans. I’ll have to ask my Mom, but I think the beans we ate as kids were canned. My sister and I usually helped prepare dinner and I don’t recall washing any fresh beans. That’ll probably ‘splain it. (Come on, all together now…’Luuuuucyyy…’)

Topic 4: Li’l Bastard. This guy was in the back yard.  I asked Keith, “Did you find that picture on the net to just show me what he looked like?” Uh, no.

Walter Whistlepig is a resident of the Patch. Damn. That guy’s kind of cute, but a have-a-heart eviction notice is now set because we haven’t invested in a fence yet. Wook at that wittle face. BuhBye. You gotta go.

Topic #5. I haven't posted a picture of the buddies in a while.