No Gator Calling Today

I went to "call" the Gator today- & decided against it. Run Bambi run...this not a good drinkin' spot.

Calling the Gator

I have mentioned that the gator in the back pond is BIG.

Every night, I like to call him over to my side of the hood. I like to see if he is still around, if he is getting bigger, and if he is looking hungry. I usually "call" him by throwing something substantial into the pond. As soon as the vibrations of the splash reach him, he races over to see if some helpless critter has fallen in and needs eatin.' He usually travels most of the pond almost under water. I have learned to look for air bubbles and eyes.

Before anyone gets upset with me- a few disclaimers- when I call him- it is NEVER with something edible. I KNOW not to FEED the gator. Also, I don't think he even sees me. Because I throw the object and then run to my patio and look at him through a camera lens or binoculars. I don't think he knows that it is a human calling.

Today- I decided to throw the tennis ball. But just as I was releasing the ball...Scott startled me with his yelling, "TRACY, DO NOT CALL THE GATOR!!!"
So the ball hit the tree-
and rolled to the pond. No vibrations- Gator is probably wondering why I didn't call.

The Dogs' Old House

The sink and the faucet have arrived & are in working order- But not yet installed. Our friend, who is also our handyman, plumber, gardener, etc.(Names rhymes with Ryan) has been laid up with an injured back. I empathize...totally. And since the temporary system isn't so bad- I am just gonna wait until Ryan feels up to doing it. Scott gave me that rose bush years ago for an anniversary. - The roses are awesome- bloom colors differ from bloom to bloom and year to year. I am especially grateful for the beautious blooms, because this rose bush almost didn't make it.

Once upon a time, I ordered a 325 lb air conditioned dog house from a guy in Montana- Then had it shipped to Scott's work. Ryan and a buddy were faced with the challenge of delivering the dog house to my place. They loaded the thing on a boat trailer and hauled it to the house. The problem was getting it into the backyard. They debated driving through the conservation easement- but the ground is swampy soft there and the truck would have gotten stuck. So, they pulled the truck, trailer, and doghouse between my house and my neighbor's place.

After the doghouse was unloaded, I went to inspect the side yard for any damage. One of the neighbor's trees had lost a small branch. The bark lining around some beds needed to be placed back properly- but no real long standing damage to sprinklers or plants.-- Nevertheless, my neighbor was ....angry. Red faced, yelling, sputtering....mad. She even insulted the aesthetics of the doghouse.

I really couldn't understand it- because Ryan had been trying so hard to stay on my side of the property line, it was my anniversary rose bush that had been pummeled and split into two.

Scott encouraged me apologize to our neighbor. At first, the petty side of me rehearsed my apology as, " I am sorry that your yard is fine and my anniversary bush is damaged." " I am sorry that my dogs are getting an air conditioned place to call their own." Eventually, I settled on apologizing for not getting her permission prior to straddling the property line.

I then trimmed back my rose bush to a small trunk stub.
& fertilized it. & spoke lovingly to it. The bush is doing beautifully.
The sad thing is now, because of the newer fence, the dogs can't even get to the dog house.
Which is good. Because Cliffy Maxwell has dug up the electrical line for the AC- So they would probably have a heat stroke if they spent anytime time in it.

We try to keep it camoed with netting and plants....

Mystery Solved....

The pterodactyl family is actually Red Shouldered Hawks- courting...must get sleeeeeeeeppppp.
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On Wisteria Lane

I adore our neighborhood-moved in here when the hood was an infant. When we moved from our first home to this one- I couldn't believe my luck finding this place. The feeling of community was especially strong- because no one was here too much longer than others. We all sort of moved as our homes were completed. Over the years- we have experienced and shared the trials and tribulations of living in a newly developed area.

We have shared the experience of the dangers associated with dealing with a growing amount of traffic on our then small (but major) highway. Also, together, we have learned a lot about displaced wildlife, including water moccasin, gators, deer, bobcat, opossum, armadillos, otters, thousands of tiny frogs, and crayfish who would invade the streets yearly.

With this blog's future in transition, I thought perhaps I could, occasionally, use its forum to keep everyone in the loop regarding local news and tidbits.

Dear Neighbors:

-My Apologies-

I would like to personally apologize for the pterodactyl-like family who has moved into the conservation areas. As many have mentioned, the shrill-like noise that emits from them nightly is... disturbing. I think "Sam" across the street said it best when he indicated that the noise is "shocking... like an alarm clock."
It is horribly loud- and there can be NO SLEEPING through this noise. The fact that this creature makes this noise, every 15 to 30 minutes, from 9:00 pm until 8:30 am is entirely my fault.

About three weeks ago, I mentioned to Scott, that, perhaps I would like a baby in the house. (I know, those who personally know me are collectively groaning...Whatever) So, you see, God has a sense of humor. Because, as soon as we had this discussion, the pterodactyls flew in and made themselves at home. And I remembered what it is like to not get any real sleep- but, still have get up and function the next day.

Funny- haha.

As soon as I come to my senses, I am sure that the dino family will move on. Meanwhile- if anyone knows what animal does this- please share. The noise has a pattern. LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG Shrill, then 3 staccato shrills.

Wildlife

Regarding the possum situation- Their holes are destroying the lawns. We are looking for creative relocation ideas.

"Steve" had the idea of smoking them out by placing fire works in the holes. Remember- that they build a network of tunnels. As Steve found out, when you place fireworks in the tunnel, you will see the smoke coming out of the hole in your neighbor's yard- and they will not appreciate this.

Water Mocassin-

Please don't shoot at them- multiple times -with a real bullet gun. Geez.

Local Services-

If you are unhappy with a service that is being provided- you may cancel and pick another company of your choosing. Please DO NOT cancel your neighbors' service, in addition to yours.

Dress Code-

If you live on the conservation- it may feel like you have no neighbors- but you do- You have at least one side neighbor. So, close your robe. We can see ...things.

Cement Pond

Since we have returned to the States- I have noticed that I more laid back about household issues. Or maybe it is just that I am now very lazy, or as my friends keep reminding me....OOOOOLLLLDERRR. Whatever it is ...it is a definite change.

I have started to think of things in terms of "Before Ireland" and "After Ireland."

Before Ireland- I would have been overly concerned- (Okay- obsessed!) about the scratches in the glass door, the torn screen and the chewed up love seat.

After Ireland- I take pictures of the mess and share it on my blog.
Before Ireland- I had a formal living room- with nice furniture.

After Ireland- My living room has become a Mixed Martial Arts gym for the neighborhood and a home for Valley's crate.
Yup.

Before Ireland- If the kitchen sink and faucet had rusted out- I would have sent Scott to Home Depot, THAT DAY to get replacements.

After Ireland- I just had him run the hose to the window.
The sprayer kept falling- so he tied a piece of string to it. Now, I can pull up when I need it.
I figured out how to get around the hot and cold water issues. The water is hot when you first use it. Then, colder. Use it to wash your hands first, then fruits and vegetables.
After Ireland....
Sad, I know. The sink is on backorder until the end of the month...

Cliffy- Please Don't Kill Your Mama!

I have been recuperating from a back injury- I'd like to say that the injury was due to an accident during athletic activity- but nope... it is not.

I have had to spend lots of time in bed. The dogs haven't seen me much.

Also, I have problems remembering the newer dog's name. We call him Clifford or Cliffy. His middle name is Maxwell- So, sometimes I call him Max- This is confusing for everyone, including Cliffy Max Clifford Maxwell.

I am on the mend- Ready to spend some time with the dogs. Cliff must have forgotten me... In the pic above- he is actually making mean noises.
"Max!! It is Mama!....MAX!!!" I am screaming this- but not moving. I am injured- I know there is no way I can move faster than that dog.
"MAX....(it is like the dumb dog doesn't know his name???) I MEAN CLIFFORD.... I MEAN CLIFFY! STOP- DON'T EAT MAMA!"
He remembered me. Valley must have reminded him.