It should have been a relaxed, leisurely day. It has so much going for it! Perfect weather. No appointments, no messy entanglements or chores. A friend visiting. And did I mention the fabulous weather?
Just before five in the morning, as Ed tossed slightly, enough to tell me he's awake, I ask him -- should we trap the kittens today?
Cursed words -- they will haunt me for the rest of the day.
His response -- you mean right now?
No, in time to get them to the clinic (which opens at 7).
We'd have to set up the trap...
I need you to do that part...
And then set it up a second time...
What do you mean "a second time?"
Well, for the remaining kittens. We can dump the first catch into a cardboard box.
Whoa... this sounds too ambitious!
We need to practice pulling the string on the door...
This is why in the predawn light, just when the mosquitoes are revin' up for their day's intense work, Ed is practicing closing the door on traps and animal carriers, all with the hope of catching the six kittens and their half sister and getting them to the vet today.
At 6:45, we're setting the food as bait, then standing back, waiting for the kittens to go in. And they do go into the animal carrier. Two, then three..
Ed! Close the door!
How many are in? I can't see...
Three, maybe four. Close it!
Here comes another...
Close it!
He does, with a bang. Two kittens manage to leap out just in time, the two remaining ones crash and thrash against the door that's loosely held shut by kitchen string. Needless to say, the kittens are successful. Both of them escape.
Well that was a bust!
I turn to my spent lilies. Easier to snip them than to play catch games with the cats. Ed patiently watches the cats as they sniff around the reopened carrier.
We're learning! He tells me. Next time, you'll have to be there to quickly latch the door.
And you can't wait too long, hoping for all six! Four is good enough! (Well, not really good enough, but better than zero...)
We'll try again next week (when the clinic is open for this kind of stuff).
Late nights and early mornings are not a grand combination. We are tired.
Still, I'm outside now and there are beds that need deadheading. I set to work in the flower fields, while Ed retires after the morning's excitement.
Flower photos (first one -- taken by Ed):
(A very successful clematis plant, rarely appreciated, as it hugs the back of the bed by the parked cars...)
A pause to deal with the hungry cheepers....
(Can't you just feel that late summer vibe here?)
(The day this particular lily finishes her bloom is the day that I start thinking about Fall...)
Breakfast, with Diane and Ed, on the porch, because, well, it's just so perfect outside today!
(with a sunny view toward a corner of the garden...)
There is little mystery to where the day travels from here: Diane and I spend the better part of it on the porch, talking. Lunch, too, is on the porch (eggs from three cheepers)...
And there we stay until it is time to pick up Snowdrop.
The little one and I discover a whole new series of books that she immediately loves (the Zoey series)...
... and it is hard to convince her that one chapter book, read cover to cover, is more than enough.
I'm losing my voice! -- I protest. Snowdrop is worried: you're not really losing your voice, are you Gogs?
In the end, she settles for another project -- putting together a kite with Ed.
But you can't fly it! There's no wind! Someday soon, okay? Such typical words, uttered to a child who understands "someday soon" to mean not very soon at all.
Evening dinner: so many summer veggies to stirfry with shrimp! And there's no mystery to how we then spend our time: we watch the debate. A first for me, as I had been traveling when the previous ones took place.
Night. It's so cool that the quilt is a welcome cover. I can almost feel the first whisper of... Fall.
Just before five in the morning, as Ed tossed slightly, enough to tell me he's awake, I ask him -- should we trap the kittens today?
Cursed words -- they will haunt me for the rest of the day.
His response -- you mean right now?
No, in time to get them to the clinic (which opens at 7).
We'd have to set up the trap...
I need you to do that part...
And then set it up a second time...
What do you mean "a second time?"
Well, for the remaining kittens. We can dump the first catch into a cardboard box.
Whoa... this sounds too ambitious!
We need to practice pulling the string on the door...
This is why in the predawn light, just when the mosquitoes are revin' up for their day's intense work, Ed is practicing closing the door on traps and animal carriers, all with the hope of catching the six kittens and their half sister and getting them to the vet today.
At 6:45, we're setting the food as bait, then standing back, waiting for the kittens to go in. And they do go into the animal carrier. Two, then three..
Ed! Close the door!
How many are in? I can't see...
Three, maybe four. Close it!
Here comes another...
Close it!
He does, with a bang. Two kittens manage to leap out just in time, the two remaining ones crash and thrash against the door that's loosely held shut by kitchen string. Needless to say, the kittens are successful. Both of them escape.
Well that was a bust!
I turn to my spent lilies. Easier to snip them than to play catch games with the cats. Ed patiently watches the cats as they sniff around the reopened carrier.
We're learning! He tells me. Next time, you'll have to be there to quickly latch the door.
And you can't wait too long, hoping for all six! Four is good enough! (Well, not really good enough, but better than zero...)
We'll try again next week (when the clinic is open for this kind of stuff).
Late nights and early mornings are not a grand combination. We are tired.
Still, I'm outside now and there are beds that need deadheading. I set to work in the flower fields, while Ed retires after the morning's excitement.
Flower photos (first one -- taken by Ed):
(A very successful clematis plant, rarely appreciated, as it hugs the back of the bed by the parked cars...)
A pause to deal with the hungry cheepers....
(Can't you just feel that late summer vibe here?)
(The day this particular lily finishes her bloom is the day that I start thinking about Fall...)
Breakfast, with Diane and Ed, on the porch, because, well, it's just so perfect outside today!
(with a sunny view toward a corner of the garden...)
There is little mystery to where the day travels from here: Diane and I spend the better part of it on the porch, talking. Lunch, too, is on the porch (eggs from three cheepers)...
And there we stay until it is time to pick up Snowdrop.
The little one and I discover a whole new series of books that she immediately loves (the Zoey series)...
... and it is hard to convince her that one chapter book, read cover to cover, is more than enough.
I'm losing my voice! -- I protest. Snowdrop is worried: you're not really losing your voice, are you Gogs?
In the end, she settles for another project -- putting together a kite with Ed.
But you can't fly it! There's no wind! Someday soon, okay? Such typical words, uttered to a child who understands "someday soon" to mean not very soon at all.
Evening dinner: so many summer veggies to stirfry with shrimp! And there's no mystery to how we then spend our time: we watch the debate. A first for me, as I had been traveling when the previous ones took place.
Night. It's so cool that the quilt is a welcome cover. I can almost feel the first whisper of... Fall.
