May. 10th, 2012

cincinnatus_c: (iris)
Currently at Toronto Pearson: 11. High today: 16.

Rounding out my spring flowers, here's a tulip that was trampled by a raccoon or a cat or a possum or who knows what:

Photobucket

I'm teaching it to play the piano:

Photobucket

Today I planted sunflowers (two varieties), four o'clocks, gazanias, zinnias (two varieties), and butterfly weed--all seeds, directly into the ground. I saw the mother raccoon pawing around where I'd planted the butterfly weed--I opened the door, and she ambled off. This morning, after the garbage truck came, I noticed two guys next door poking and probing the garbage can at the curb--my first thought was that they were the bomb squad, but it turned out they were removing two baby raccoons--two of those five that were transported across our yard, I'm sure--one of which ran across the road, and the other of which stuffed itself under our green bin. L. attempted to give it a piece of bread but was rebuffed, and then the two guys advanced threateningly on our green bin, so L. picked it up and the little raccoon ran off under a car, and then disappeared. Before we left for Edmonton last week, I planted some green onions; something, presumably squirrels, has dug up two of them so far--just left the first one lying there, peeled and bit the second one. I've got several varieties of squash, broccoli, cauliflower, and peas growing in our so-called solarium, waiting for the backyard to be groundhog proof, but it sure looks like they'll outgrow their little pots before that happens. Yesterday I overheard the guy behind us saying the only thing to do is kill the thing, as it attempted unsuccessfully to climb up my chicken wire into his yard.

There was a goldfinch at my finch feeder this afternoon--it had been hanging with no customers for weeks and weeks. Earlier today I had actually dumped some of the seeds on the ground, since nothing was eating them out of the feeder.

And today, on the Lilienthaler Chaussee, a man, walking, slowed down, and looked over his shoulder into space.

April 2025

S M T W T F S
  12345
678910 1112
1314151617 1819
20212223242526
27282930   

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 11th, 2025 10:07 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios