I couldn’t think of anything to title this post. I am considering that perhaps The Havens will need a name change in the near future. Out in California, there is a city called Twentynine Palms because when it was settled there were 29 palm trees there.
I’m thinking that we need to change the name of The Havens to Twentynine Thousand Elms:
You see all those little seedlings down along the driveway in this picture? Those are sprouted elm seeds. It is like that all over my gardens right now. Like I need another project: pulling up elm trees.
While I was throwing water at my lavender bed today, I noticed that one of the shrubs was shaking in a most emphatic manner. When I moved the branches aside, this is what I saw.
That is a baby rabbit, that was stashed there for nursing purposes by its mamma. I think it is very interesting that soon after rabbits get past the two inch stage, the mother separates them out of the nest and stashes them in various safe places, then visits them regularly for feeding. I can see that this would be a good thing because if a predator comes across one baby, it has not come across the whole litter. It must make for a very busy day for the mother, though.
Anyway, the burden of what this little guy was telling me was something like, “My mommy told me to stay put but it is so WET all of a sudden and I just don’t know what to do now!”
Yes, very wet behind the ears. And everywhere else, too. Despite the knowledge that in short order this little bunny will be eating my flowers, I did NOT snap its neck after this picture was taken. I put him back down in the lavender for his mother to take care of.
I probably was feeling kindly towards all young wild ones this morning as I discovered that the robin nest under my window that I was featuring is empty this morning. A skunk, raccoon, owl, cat, or snake cleaned it out in the last 24 hours. Sad. But we still have lots of robin nests around the place with kiddios, and the parents are starting over again already. They have chosen and high place in the elm this time, probably it will be better luck for them than a shrub at nearly ground level.
This is basically what my father thinks I am right now, since I am part and parcel of the conspiracy to “isolate” him at an apartment in town. Like he isn’t isolated right now, at the end of a half mile driveway that crosses a hollow and is washed out so badly the only vehicle that can manage it should be a truck, preferably 4 wheel drive. Like he isn’t isolated now, since all his friends are dead and no one around the neighborhood can stand him because he is so opinionated; even my mother lives in a separate house and doesn’t go to visit him, he goes to visit her.
Oh, he blows hot and cold. He tells me that he can take care of himself, does just fine, and blows off the suggestion that the fact that he was admitted to the hospital malnourished and dehydrated belies this statement. Then in the next breath he wants to know what he is going to do for food at the apartment if he is” isolated” in town. This is because deep in his heart he knows the only square meals he gets are the ones my mother prepares for him, and if he’s in town she won’t be catering for him. Jim and I will be, but he doesn’t know that yet.
I am taking note of all this experience. I will give Jesse a link to these blog posts so he can show them to me when I get old and difficult and need help and am insisting that I can do it all myself.