Sam emerged from playing in the raspberries and froze. He felt her eyes upon him, but from where? Then he saw her, the dark shadow under the rose bushes.
“Does she mean to attack me?”
She does. And she did.
Tag: backyard
Blogging From the Face of the Sun
We just got through a nasty heat wave here in Portland, some days over 100° Fahrenheit (1000° Celsius). We don’t have air conditioning in our house so I spent most of the weekend hiding out in the basement. It’s generally nice and cool but after so many hot days it was warm even there. Thankfully the heat just broke, the temperature dropped 20° pretty quickly and there’s even a soft rain now.
This picture of Sam was taken a few days before the heat wave, we were running around when I noticed he stuck his tongue out whenever he paused, so I decided it was time for us to take a break so he could catch his breath. The daisies on the right are past their prime but he loves to play in them, so I left one patch standing for his sake.
Kiss Kiss
Emma’s been complaining that I’ve posted too many aggressive pictures of her, baring her teeth or mauling feathered toys or rough-housing with Sam. So here’s a picture of her planting a kiss on Scout.
I Am Become Death, Destroyer of Aphids
I’ve mentioned before how it sometimes seems that everything you see is an invasive species, such as the cute little ladybugs in my yard that turned out to be an Asian species originally brought to America for pest control. But this little ladybug, fierce and ferocious (if you’re an aphid), is not the same species! Have I finally found one of our native ladybugs? Alas, no, it has two spots too few. The seven-spotted ladybug is closely related to its American cousin the nine-spotted ladybug, but the nine-spot is rarely seen these days. The seven-spot is native to Europe and, like the Asian beetles, was brought over to the States for pest control and then established itself in the wild.
This one established itself on the petals of my purple coneflower. But the aphids are on the roses! The roses! For the love of Sammy, the aphids are on the roses!
Ah well, I’ve gotten a little disoriented in foreign lands myself.
A More Worrisome Sign
We’ve had two katydids this year, both of which are hanging around the side of the house where there are a handful of rose bushes and a few stray gladiolus (at least I think that’s what they are). This one prefers the gladiolus and is usually close enough to photograph, while the other prefers a particular rose bush where it is often nearly out of sight and too far away for pictures.
I’ve named them Katydid and Katydidn’t.
Perhaps an even more worrisome sign than saving the lives of your garden pests is giving them nicknames.
A Sign
I’ve adopted a live-and-let-live policy towards the katydids in our yard. Unlike the swarms of little aphids, there aren’t very many of them and they don’t do much damage, so I tolerate a few chewed up plants in exchange for a few pictures. It’s actually more than a live-and-let-live policy, as when I trim the roses I try to make sure that any katydids on the cut stems make it safely back to the main plant before the stems go in the yard waste bin. The fact that I go to any effort to save the lives of some of my garden pests is probably a sign that I need to see a therapist.
This one preferred the gladiolus over the roses, you can see the holes in the stem it gouged out. The flowers were already spent so it wasn’t hurting anything. I’d usually leave the spent flowers until I was sure they weren’t eating them anymore.
Emma-nent Domain
Someone stop me from making these bad puns, I can’t help myself! A recent photo of Emma relaxing in the backyard.
Sammy Lives!
Perhaps a better question to have asked is “Is this the end of Emma?”.
Is This the End of Sammy?
You’ll have to tune in tomorrow to find out. Same cat time, same cat channel.
The Law of Jaw and Claw
I trimmed the claws of all three cats today, and even though Sam wasn’t too happy about it at the time, if you’ll look at Emma’s paw I think he was appreciative of it later. No matter how it looks, this was all in good fun and part of their normal horseplay. Sam is still smaller than Emma but at least it’s not as lopsided as it used to be — not that his small size ever stopped Sam from rough-housing as a kitten.
Boolie 