Sunday, July 17, 2011

Groundhog Where Are You?

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I'm ready for you!


I got one of my traps back. Whoever brought it back was chicken to face his father. He simply placed the trap where a could see it, then left. As with lots of my other equipment I had accumulated over the years, the trap had walked off and became a part of one of my three son's domain.

After fiddling with the mechanism, which was totally out of whack, I baited the trap. One half of a Gala apple, face up, so he, the groundhog could get a good whiff of it, was ready to kiss his lips.

Remember, the culprit ate all my tomatoes we had growing in pots on the back deck.

Great happenings!! The flaps were down. A sure sign of a catch. Yes it was, . . . but only a scared squirrel. I opened one end of the trap to let it loose. You never saw a critter haul rump and tail as fast as that little bugger. He was out of there! The whole half of the apple gone. (may as well have a feast while incarcerated). The only residue left, was a handful of smart pills.

I downsized. I only put in a fourth of an apple as bait, ready again to catch the big one. But no, shucks, . . . another squirrel!

With a fourth of an apple left, I set the trap a third time. At the crack of dawn the flaps of the trap were down once more. When I walked toward the trap there was no frantic clamor as it was with the previously caught squirrels. I grinned! . . . Got you fat boy! . . . Oh no! A 'possum!


Again the apple was consumed, but the frightened, sharp-toothed fellow crouched in the corner of the trap. I held open one end of the trap and sweet-talked to the critter to persuade him to make an uneventful exit. No such doing! He didn't get the hint! He hung on to the trap for dear life. I picked the trap up to shake him loose. No way! His claws were cramped around the mesh of the cage.

Notice the four tight grips
What do I do now? Can you swim brother?  . . . I picked up the garden hose, set the nozzle on jet, standing back about four feet, I let him have it. That did the trick. Again nothing but rump and skinny tail as he zipped off the deck.


Again, before I could squat down to reset the trap, I had to clean up the residue. No smart pills this time. Good thing I had the hose set on "Jet".
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Hear Ye, Hear Ye!!!

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The above was the header on my email sent to my three sons. As an aging father (over 50) often finds out, all practical tools and equipment, accumulated over a man's entire life, is fair game to the taking by the sons.

My twenty foot extension ladder has left twenty years ago. My ten foot ladder also gone. My stepladder, walked off, but was replaced with a new one, after my vociferous howls, as a Christmas present mind you.

I had a 22 with a scope, gone. Trailers, bush-hogs, plows, post hole diggers, post driver, sledge hammer, tools big and small. And yes, my trap. After the trap walked off, I bought a new one. Guess what? It is gone as well!



Hear ye, hear ye!! I need my trap. Either one! The old one or the new one. A groundhog has found my beautiful and succulent potted tomato, on the back deck, mind you! The scoundrel ate the green leaves, all big and small tomatoes, and the blossoms. What is going on. We had plenty of rain. Why this need for liquid? Liquid in my green tomatoes!


The first evidence of critter attack was when they ate my wife's decorative sweet potato vines. Then the marauder tried just one tomato. Then he moved and devastated the petunias. (notice photo). Just a note here; the next time you're in a fancy restaurant, and your salad or entree is decorated with a cute blossom, Eat the thing!! Then and there!! How else can you spite that belly-draging gluten who stole your mater's.

Why me Lord? What have I ever done, to deserve even one. . . . Blessing . . . Groundhog?

I'll take it all though. Happy to be a father.

By the way, I got my old trap back. Now all I need is my 22 back.
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Thursday, July 14, 2011

A Face only a Mamma can Love

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Our pooch, who is seventeen years old, is beginning to have some health issues.



"Regularity", S's proud statement, (S=short for Sebastien) is always followed with a head to tail shake, and a proud trot back to the house. "Another good one," he would say.

The other night, when I asked him to perform, just prior to a night's rest, he could not deliver. Poor "S" strained and hunched over and over again trying to give birth to his "Regularity". The next morning he valiantly hunched up and tried some more. No results. We thought it was constipation, however, blood ran down his leg indicating otherwise.

At the vet, he weighed a hefty 14.4 pounds. The same he has weighed for more than a dozen years. The Doc made him walk and concluded he was in pretty good for an old dog. . .  So far so good.

When the KY jelly and the latex glove came out, I knew, a few explicits from Mr "S" will soon fill the examination room.

Being held by the assistant, the only thing we could see was his pitiful face. To our surprise, we only heard an initial short whine when the intrusion was initiated. While the doctor's finger invaded and probed, all "S" did was stand still. He dare not move, not when on the hook like that. His eyes, seemingly twice the size as normal, did the only moving. Round and round they went, bulging, looking for sympathy.

The verdict: a ruptured anal gland and severe swelling in his rectal canal due to an infection. After three days of antibiotics, and pain pills. He seems back to old self, . . . loaded.

A follow-up doctor visit is tomorrow.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

One Tiny Mamma

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Other than a humming bird, this has to be the smallest bird I've seen. Not only did I see it, I watched it work itself to death trying to feed and protect her brood.


You can see it, little bug in mouth, about to enter her hidden stash of young'ns.


The nest was cleverly hidden between the two red folding chairs, leaning against the rail. She found a crack on one end and crawled toward the middle of the stacked chairs, until it got too tight to turn around. I would not have known the bunch was there, for her and her mate carrying on every time my wife and I walked near. We could not count how many of the little peep-squeeks there were, because the beaks were bigger than their bodies.

Three days before their leaving of the nest we counted six of them. The place obviously got a little crowded. The little mamma still hangs around, all nervous with no more little ones to feed. He who cares for the sparrow, how much more will He take care of you?

Log Cabin Love

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Our joy, a home away from home.
On seventy two acres in Floyd County, Virginia.
Elevation 2800 feet above sea level.


We fell in love with the land about three years ago. It has in the middle of it a 100 years old two story house. The windows are long gone, but the thick tin roof is in fair condition. That is a good thing, because it has preserved the random width American chestnut flooring downstairs, and the wide heart pine floors in the secondary bedrooms upstairs. The wall and ceiling paneling is also chestnut, although thinner than the flooring. The fireplace mantles and stair banisters are long gone, stolen perhaps.

Check out the old house.


Wall paneling removed, the floor was next

The paneling upstairs was papered with the local newspaper.  This shows the date of March 19, 1929.

We had the new cabin built as close to the one acre pond as possible, and stocked the pond with bluegills and crappies. The deck is close enough to fish from it.

Early morning, time to pray

The chestnut wood, salvaged from the old house, was used to benefit and also save a ton of money, with the new cabin. I reused the flooring and the wall paneling to make our kitchen cabinets. I also made nightstands, end tables and a four by eight foot dining table. (now famous because of a previous post "Termites in new furniture").

The large chestnut table that harbored a few termites, now gone. To where I do not know.
The above projects are more from the quarry of chestnut. 
Chestnut kitchen cabinets, worm holes and all. Pretty? you make the call.
Sample of random width chestnut (on top), and pine floor. both from the old house.
One hundred years ago, the worm holes in the wormy chestnut was not desirable. As I found out by dismantling the chestnut paneling, the wormy boards were used on the wall upstairs; the children's rooms, I suppose. The worm free boards proudly covered the walls in the parlor, dining room and main hallway.

This was the front parlor before I removed every board of it. The vertical design is alternating chestnut and walnut.
The walnut has evolved into napkin trays and tissue boxes. Much darker wood than one sees today.
The rock chimneys were stacked with lime and clay mud. Amazing they still are in tact. A root cellar, enclosed also with mud stacked flat rocks was on the lower corner of the house. The wide board shelves are still down there. I may use the nonsupporting flat rock to build a retaining wall one day, when I have nothing else to do and the Lord keeps me going.

Looking down into the root cellar, only accessible from the outside.
Much more paneling, some fluted, could be removed. One room with wide clear chestnut walls has been covered with sheetrock. The exterior poplar clapboard siding is in fair shape.

Larvae, please identify

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I recently found, on the outside of my house, these little larvae. Still alive and wiggling, apparently having crawled out, or been kicked out of a hole in the corner of the siding.

Notice the size:

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Ice Fishing In Floyd County Virginia?

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Fourth of July weekend. It is hot!!!

The hot dog shriveled before it hit the grill. The bun toasted even under the table umbrella. The sun-tea boiled in the glass carafe. It was so hot, the styrofoam plates curled up with the potato salad in it. The only use for the black lawn furniture was to brown the tati-tots on them. The field corn quickly dried and started to pop. The cows seeing that phenomenon thought it was snowing, they laid down and froze to death.

Phew, it's hot!

July 4th, a good time to think back to January.

Weeks of way below freezing nights. A nip in the nostrils. Ice on my mustache. Snow up to your caboose. Turkeys scratching to survive. The ice on the pond thick enough for ice fishing. (New England, you aint the only ones!)

It was cold!