We have been having a lot of bug activity this past week, despite the garlic spraying last Tuesday. It seems that the bugs kind of like the stuff. No one is staying away. So today, our organic-natural-pollinator-safe blah blah blah mosquito deterrent guys were scheduled for another visit, to help scare the dickens out of some more of the pests. I had this thought that if I were to mow down some of the tall grasses, it should be just before the garlic guys came. You know, you really agitate bugs when you run a mower over weeds and grasses. Just ask the swallows who follow such activity, swooping down to catch them as they swarm. So they'd be agitated and the garlic guys would come and the bugs would say "well this is just too much, this place is totally unfriendly!" and they would leave.
And this is why at day break, I am out on the tractor mower plunging into one patch of weedy grass after the next. Mowing on that machine makes me sick so after I finish the tractor run, I quickly feed the cats (the cheepers will have to wait in the coop once again) and then collapse on our bed and tell Ed I am good for nothing for at least the next ten hours.
Of course, I do recover, all the more so since I am hungry for breakfast. Ed joined me, but we eat outside because the porch smells of garlic. (If Ed looks sleepy -- that's because he is.)
And, too, I have a scheduled Zoom call with my best bud down in Florida. That's heavenly!
Finally, at noonish, I venture out. It is significantly better out there and so I force myself to weed. I mean, you have to attend to these super invaders at some point in early fall, so I may as well start now, in modest increments. And yes, there is still the occasional mosquito, but I think these holdouts are just too attached to their home to ever leave. You know, like the person who does not want to evacuate when there is a hurricane brewing.
In the afternoon, Snowdrop arrives.
I try mild persuasion. I try dragging her by the hand. I try luring with promises of great stuff. None of it works. The girl swings up onto her tree...
... then refuses to stay outside. We've been to the meadow lots of times! -- she tells me. None of my grandkids (so far) prefer the outdoors to what's inside the farmhouse. Ah well. I like our reading sessions. We spend a lot of time with books on the orange couch. And with little ponies and Lego set ups.
Hey, you know you cannot jump on the big couch!
Just once?
As I drop her off at home (greetings, Sandpiper and Sparrow!)...
...I notice that her backpack is all packed and ready for tomorrow's first day of school. The last day of August brings with it the last day of vacation. Despite all the pandemic setbacks and limitations, predominance of outdoor meetups, and masked adventures, all my grandkids had happy and blissfully healthy summers. For all that, I am so very grateful.
