Flowers

Look, I know that gardens are about lots of things: form and structure and pattern and balance and texture and space and so on.

And in our garden here at home you must add to that list FOLIAGE and THORNS. Sometimes both at once. (Phrodaux here: don't forget stench and fire!)

This is certainly not a cute cottagey cutting garden, that's for sure. But sometimes, a girl just needs some flowers.

They can be just plain old purty (as Phrodaux would say),

 Or pretty but elusive (8 feet up in the air, hiding behind the Davidia leaves),

 Or a stunning shade of blue with wicked spikes.

 

Then again, any flower armed like this is a friend of mine. 

It's good if they are all trumpety, to attract hummingbirds,

And nice if they are colors seldom seen.

 

When all is said and done, though, it's the mutants from outer space
that really float my boat. 

So there you have it, a few little pretty bits from around here. A big nod to all real photographers...this close up thing is HARD. And the light, why is that so tricky? The FQ has a lot to learn. Thanks for sticking with us while she does.

an actual before, and other crap...

ok, you might want to sit down.
Maybe get a cold beverage and some nice, nice salty snax, but that part is up to you. We don't judge (we really really do, but not about a nice cold beverage and salty snax).

we (phrodaux) put in a new light fixture from one of out favorite places (yes, it is a store Mr./Mrs./Ms. judgy pants, but they are nice and have really good coffee) Schoolhouse electric. We may have mentioned them before, as they are super nice and their stuff is the bomb (yes, I said "the bomb," wow, I can just hear the eyes rolling and I wrote this long before you read it, I'm just that good, some would say "Phrodaux, you be the bomb", just saying).

where was I?

yes, sitting, salty snax...

this would be... wait for it...build suspense...yes, I'm a bit of a jerk...

The "BEFORE PICTURE!" release the pigeons and hounds, alert the press (French, as that makes better coffee), and check for flurries (not furries, euyew) in places that don't usually see flurries (but likely do see furries, oddly enough, like hell and Phoenix, but I repeat, myself)

(this may be a "before" picture, but you definitely don't want to see the "after" that goes with it)

So, snax you say...

Before. 

(yes. I do sometimes get to the f'ing point, thank you very much)

Suitable for your "little house on the prairie cosplay, I look fab-u-lous in gingham by the way)

and... wait...

After.

so there.

We did also replace the light over the breakfast nook table a couple of weeks prior otherwise 2x the little house on the prairie. I of course was not happy with the location of the previous light, so had to move it (it was 8 inches off, and would not do. WOULD NOT DO!). Then there was the moving of the electrical box, the patching of the drywall, realizing that the ceiling paint isn't actually beige, but has become beige over 60 years, and I didn't want to paint the entire kitchen ceiling as that would have led to painting the entire interior of the house and maybe sacking of neighboring villages (it is a slippery slope) so some other solution was needed (a big white circle, I loaf it, and minimal sacking)

(there are always trade offs in home improvement)

oh yah, and the boys have graduated dog school. So we have that going for us.

 (actually for Anubis this was his post graduate work, but we can still call him Nubie, being family and all)

...and while we are at it. When the nice man running the estate sale says "the rug might have a slight odor", what that means in "garage sale" speak means "every cat since the pharaohs has used this as a toilet, and not just the healthy ones"

(do you see the little stink lines coming from this? you may wish to de-scent your monitor after viewing)

and just to finish off a random post.

(what the hell, Lake Oswego, really? just no. Bad Lake Oswego, bad)

Phrodaux out.

A June well-lived

The other day I marveled at Mo, for the sheer energy he was devoting to out and out puppy mania for the umpteenth day in a row: Pace yourself, I said to the dog (of course we talk to the dogs). You do not have to have all puppy fun at once.

Phrodaux heard me and said, "Well, he doesn't know. He's never had a June before." Too true: Mo is one week shy of being one year old. He has now officially had a complete June, though, and he did not waste a bit of it.

Big dog weekend: Fabulous W (the friend formerly known as E) made the long trek from the hinterlands to the farm, driving a borrowed mini van full of big dogs and this amazing thing.

Skylab! From 1974. Completely amazing, and MINE! But I share, honest. You can play if you want to.

But the dogs didn't care about Skylab, except Otter, who wanted to bite it, and us when we played it. Noises! Colors! Blinky Lights! Scary Scary Scary MUST BITE.

Yes, that is the FQ, complete with Darth Vader mask. Really, we have everything at the farm.

In general, Bailey wanted to chase the ball, Otter wanted to chase Bailey, and Mo was in keep-up-with-the-big-dogs sensory overload, running and chasing and stealing the ball and barking at them when they decided to rest in the shade. Mo wasn't so sure about Roxie the three-legged dog, but gave her a break just the same.

Mo says: Hey Otter! When Bailey comes back around on lap 18, let's chase her! Otter says: Must rest.

This is Bailey. Check out just how fast she is! You can't get a non-blurry picture!

Mo says: OK, we will rest in the shade for 10 seconds. Roxie says: I am IGNORING you.

After 48 hours of this, Mo was a little tired. But big dogs were almost in a coma. I mean, first they didn't get up until 9:30, then they just lounged around in their underwear. And the best thing about the farm is that you can sleep late and still take a nap later.

After W and crew headed home, Mo briefly gave in to exhaustion.

But not for long. Soon enough, he was outside, waiting for the next fun thing to happen.

Canning weekend: See previous post. In the midst of all that groovy greenery was pickled asparagus and strawberry jam. The upside for dogs: much kitchen activity means yummy items are sure to hit the floor.

Grandma, et al. weekend: Phrodaux's mom, cousin, and cousin's daughter spent the weekend at the farm. No photos, but rest assured: PLAY! Chasing a kid! Creek swimming (definitely no photos from that, as cameras and dog rescue from strong current don't really mix).

And finally, the weekend just ended: A house full of people, endless amazing food and drink, a sweet baby (human this time), plus Catfish, our favorite toddler, just on the cusp of 3. His weekend mantra was IsaMo! no matter which dog he encountered. More run and chase and play and inadvertent sharing of toys and eventually, complete collapse.

48 hours later, Mo is still not quite himself. I think, at last, he's TIRED. We'll see how long that lasts. Quite likely he will tackle the dog park tonight, letting everyone know just who is the PUPPY in the place.

Nubie, on the other hand, is an old pro at June. He knows how to take things slowly, dip your paw in, ease into summer. His advice (he'll wait, if you want to get a pen):

* If you can't get to a creek, try a kiddie pool.

* Make frequent visits to the U-pick raspberry patch.

* Most importantly, when things get to be just too much, you can always hide out in the shade with a stick. Or in this case, an arugula stem.

Spoiled? Well, maybe. A little. But man, what a life these dogs have.