||[May. 7th, 2010|09:57 am]
I got an e-mail yesterday from a colleague for whom English is a second language. He wrote "for this product, distribution continues to be a crab shoot."|
Which could just be a typo, or maybe he's editing...but I love it and I assure you that I will be using crab shoot on purpose from here on out.
I was worried that maybe after a couple of months of not having a dog, I would be so used to it and, frankly, spoiled by the ease of not having to re-arrange my life around an animal.
Fear not, as I have begun fantasizing recently about resurrecting one of my fish tanks...just a betta and maybe some lemon tetras...white cloud minnows...dude, the POINT is to enjoy the freedom!
Okay, so fine, I'm using my FREEDOM to reclaim the front garden, aka the Grass Garden. Not because I've purposely filled it with ornamental grass, but because weed-grass has damn near taken it over. So, I'm digging and swearing and cursing and pulling up that network of underground roots.
And we do have a pair of Robins nesting beside the driveway. And yes, I am parking my car on the far side of the driveway, stepping out into the bushes on the other side of the driveway, so that I disturb them as little as possible. Because re-arranging my life around some idiot animal is WHAT I DO. And they are idiots. Because Mommacat lives in my yard and Mommacat didn't take long to figure out that there's a bird nest there and while the bush branches aren't big enough to support her weight -- score one point for smarts, Robins! -- it's just a matter of time until the babies fledge and when they do, they have to spend a day or two on the ground before they really can fly and then, then, my friends, it's Baby Robin appetizers for Mommacat.
Delete previous score, you stupid birds. Did you go to the same parenting school as the rabbit who every year had her babies in the only yard in the whole neighborhood that has GREYHOUNDS? Obviously, yes. But still, it's nature's way and I try to keep interference to a minimum. After all, a pair of birds only has to produce two babies to breeding age in order to replace themselves and at 4 eggs a brood and 2-3 broods per year...well, a lot of baby robins have to become part of the food chain before they reach adulthood, that's all I'll say.
Anyway, I call them stupid, but that's not really true, as they've already learned to follow me around when I mow the lawn, to take advantage of the kicked up bugs. And, in an ironic twist, the Robins have been having their way with the cat food that MommaCat leaves in her bowl.
And now, MomRobin has learned that my cursing and pulling and tossing in the Grass Garden also kicks up bugs. And she's become quite bold, coming pretty much within arms reach of me each evening.
(I know, some of you are thinking -- what, you garden each evening? Shouldn't you be inside doing Faire stuff or something? Yes, I probably should. Except. I had to have a stern talk with myself this year about sanity and prioritizing and finances and stress-induced illness. This included charts and lists and all sorts of prescribed activities. And the conclusion was: the single most beneficial thing I could do for myself would be to walk away from the Virginia Faire. Hm. Thankfully, I have a very realistic picture of the different between "should" and "gonna". But the compromise was that I did have to make time for me. And dirt time is important to me. So, while I'm egregiously behind on a lot of things, I still, in general, feel better and less likely to pour kerosene on everything, set it alight, dye my hair, change my name and move to Newfoundland.)
Anywhoo...so there she is, pecking and scratching around in the dirt near me, and I'm following the Miss Manner's rules for critter etiquette, first rule being, never, ever, ever, look directly, but always out of the side of your field of vision. So, she's just getting bolder and bolder, not caring that I'm on the phone, or hammering away at stubborn roots. So, I toss her a grub that I just dug up. (Okay, I toss her several. Yes, I've found something I can throw even less capably than a ball -- worms and grubs) And finally one lands within her eyesight. She grabs it and gobbles. And then looks at me expectantly. Which of course means that now I'm frantically digging for bugs, so that we can keep the positive reinforcement going. And I find one and toss it and she grabs it, eats it, and then heads back to her nest.
Which of course, means, it's no longer about gardening anymore, is it? Nope, can't go out tonight, got to get home and feed the Robin. Sigh.