When oh when oh when will my tomatoes be ripe? I’m still eating Kentucky grown from the store but I WANT a big ass red tomato, still warm from the sun, sliced up with a smidge of salt and a tinier smidge of sugar RIGHT NOW! A tomato like that plus some chicharrones and a mojito- that’s my last meal.
Speaking of garden veggies, The Produce Station was tearing down it’s summer satellite location down the street because everything is supposed to be planted well before mid-July. But I rescue plants at about the same rate that I try to rescue people and small animals so I screeched on my brakes and pulled four flats of very skanky herbs, cabbage and squash plants out of the dumpster. They were still in their little 1" cube paks and truly not long for this world but Amy came by and between the two of us we planted this stuff, tucked into already crowded quarters. Some of them ended up in pots on the upstairs deck rail but I figure, hey, squash is forgiving. The only problem is, no one in our house eats squash. And yet. Squirrels love it and it’s just the thing to put out for them at Halloween, Thanksgiving and beyond. I’ll keep you posted on this laughable garden mission.
Number one child, Dan, is up at the Bud and Jan Show in the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula (I always want to spell that Penis-ula, which reminds me of Sonny Eliot taking it off the weather map of Michigan and squeaking it. This is making me incredibly happy. They so much long for company and Dan is just the strong, loving, gentle-hearted character to keep them entertained for 10 days. And I’m glad he’s getting a break from a rigorous gig schedule that resumes shortly. Jill is out in New Hampshire with her cello at a music festival for this time period. I spoke with my folks and Dan has gotten the dock in, done gardening for my mom, run every day along Lake Superior, been swimming in the ice cold water, hiked some waterfalls only he knows about. This is all good. At this point, we’re never completely assured that the children will have that many visiting opportunities with their grandparents and I’m glad for them when they spend time together. We go up in a few weeks for a few days.
No, Bonnie. The otter was healthy and wild. But I have mentioned the notion of guilt-free taxidermy
a few times so I confess, I also rescue small dead creatures. Yes, basically roadkill. Ann Arbor Public Schools actually has a roadkill taxidermy club but I was too old to join; it was just for students. What I have has come from dusty antique stores and Kiwanis and the like so it’s all been dead long before I came on the scene. And, PETA be damned, I am fascinated with being able to touch these creatures (or what’s left of them) and see them right up close. A good piece of taxidermy is- let’s face it- a thing of beauty. The kids hate this fetish so most of it goes to the cottage and there they roll their eyes at it and go swimming. This is Minky.
And while I’m at it, here are a few other pictures of the inside of Wit’s End plus one of Mark,the neighbor who engineered the sinking of the pontoon boat, raising the dock with FG looking on.Clix to enlarge.