Casa Tipton-Kelly Garden Tour August 2014

By popular demand, here is the complete video tour of the floral extravaganza that is Casa Tipton-Kelly.  Actually, one blogger suggested that I post such a video but you know me, I jump on any opportunity to show off our wonderful home here on the coastal plain of southern Delaware.

We live on a lot that is just under an acre.  We are surrounded on both sides by wonderful neighbors and across the street by another wonderful neighbor.  He live in a development called Covington Chase, a grouping of thirty-seven houses with 3/4 acre lots.  We purchased one of the bigger lots that is bordered by a farm field in the back and our aforementioned fantastic neighbors on either side.  I purposely was looking for a lot that did not border houses in the back.  Bill and I need that privacy in back of our house.  

Casa Tipton-Kelly August 2014

We moved here in November of 2006.  We had the house built from scratch.  We are the only ones who have lived in this house.  We also built out house in Pennsylvania from scratch, on a 6.875 lot.  We couldn't quite afford a "lot" that big here in Washington D.C.'s summertime capital, AKA "Gayberry" because of the large lesbian and gay man couple population.  Lots of us Old Gays down here folks.  

So enjoy the tour while I go and take a shower.  It's hot and humid this morning, a typical August day here on the Delmarva peninsula surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean on the east and the Chesapeake bay on the left.  We may be uncomfortable sometimes in these temperatures folks but the vegetation and flowers love it!  We do too.  Bill often sits on the back deck and just soaks in the colors and sounds of our wonderful, living back yard.  

Enjoy!

Tent Caterpillers!

The tree I saved this morning from tent caterpillars

This morning I was trying to decide which of several subjects I wanted to write about today.  But first I had a couple of birdhouses I wanted to put into two of my favorite trees.  As I was putting the birdhouse in one of the trees I noticed TENT CATERPILLARS had taken up residence!  NO! NO! NO!

Last year I lost a favorite aborvitae tree to bag worms.  By the time I realized the bagworms were had taken over the tree, it was too late to save it. Thank goodness I happened to buy those birdhouses at Loew's this morning and decided to put them up right away.  Otherwise, by the time I realized the tent caterpillars were in the tree, it would have been too late.

Eastern tent caterpillars at home

Normally I don't like to kill anything, animal or insect but I have no compunction about killing something that is going to kill one of my trees or shrubs.  And this tree, which planted itself at the perfect location, is a favorite with my back yard birds.  NO WAY was I going to let the tent caterpillars decimate it.  So what did I do?  I got out my long pole that cuts branches and started to break up the tents that were formed in the elbows of the tree.  There were five of them.  Then I smashed, yes SMASHED the caterpillars.  No compunction about the mass slaughter folks, none at all.  

Mass of writhing Eastern tent caterpillars

So folks, my posting about the following subjects will have to wait:

Donald Sterling (real name Tokowitz), the racist L.A. Clippers owner controversy and hypocrisy

This man has a girlfriend? Must have money.

Cable and satellite TV commercial overload which is driving me away from TV

Is it me but didn't "they" tell us that when pay TV came we wouldn't have commercial anymore? What am I missing here?

Review of "World War Z" movie and Brad Pitt 

Brad Pitt (man on left)

Television "news" that isn't news

That missing Malaysian airliner?  It's gone, move on.

So you see folks, I'm not one of those bloggers who runs out of things to write about.  Even though I don't write about my most personal, innermost thoughts, hope and fears I still have plenty to rant and vent about, believe you me.

But I had this emergency this morning so I thought I would share it with all of you.  Life is always an adventure isn't it folks?

My Backyard Buddy

My portulaca eating Backyard Buddy, The Rabbit
Note: this is the actual rabbit, I just took this picture

This is my backyard buddy.  Not really, a little sarcasm from your friendly blogger here early in the morning folks.

I just took this picture about a half an hour ago, early this morning.  Mr. Bunny Rabbit is out for his morning meal in our backyard.  His "morning meal" (and afternoon meal and evening meal) apparently consists of the flowers of my portulaca plants.  

Portulaca, i.e. "Rabbit Salad"

This rabbit and I have been battling all summer. He's (or she) is a persistent bugger.  I'll be walking around the backyard, refilling the birdbaths and sometimes I almost trip over him (her).  We give each other a LOOK, just daring me to do something about it, and then he (she) takes off, usually to the cornfield that borders on our backyard rabbit salad bar.

The Rabbit Equalizer

Bill wants to kill it. I'm a little squeamish about taking such a drastic measure, although I wouldn't be TOO upset if a roaming fox decided to come by and have rabbit for dinner.  What I don't see doesn't bother me plus, to me, that's nature taking its course.  

We put out one of those Have-a-Heart traps (bought specially for our little buddy) but he (she) hasn't taken the invitation....yet.  Even with a slathering of peanut butter on a carrot, no trapped rabbit.  

When we lived in Pennsylvania on our 6.875 wooded acres, an occasional rabbit would appear for a week or two and then disappear, no doubt having kept his (her) appointment as dinner for the many foxes we had surrounding our wooded oasis in PA.

I've taken a water gun out to this bugger, and he (she) does take off when I pull the gun out.  But this bunny is a sly one because he (she) just keeps coming back when I'm inside the house posting a blog, feeding my face or taking a nap, not necessarily in that order.

So what's to be done?  I've decided next year to admit the terrorist rabbit has won.  I won't plant any more portulaca.  Hey, if the powers that be in  New York City decided not to rebuild the Twin Towers just because they would be an obvious target for the terrorists and instead build that innocuous, single tower, tentative looking building   that looks like it's saying "Please don't hit me", who am I to question THAT wisdom?  

Next year:  Marigolds!

Me this morning with the flower bed that the rabbit DOESN'T eat - marigold, snap dragons and asylum

Baby Bird Rescue!

Hatched Purple Martin egg shell in the grass at the base of the birdhouse

I just got up from my afternoon nap and walked in our backyard to water my new river birch trees.  On the way back, passing the Purple Martin house, I noticed a "leaf" moving in the grass at the base of the house that moved oddly.  Upon closer examination I saw that it was a naked baby bird, reaching its open mouth for food.  Nearby I saw a broken egg.  Uh oh, one of the eggs just fell from the Purple Martin house to the ground.  Emergency action needed to be taken.

No, I didn't take a picture of the newly hatched, naked baby Purple Martin.  Somehow that didn't seem right to take a picture of this poor creature that was born minutes ago, struggling to survive.  I just didn't feel right about this.  Now that I think about it, probably because some blog troll will think I staged the event.  Believe me folks, I get some strange comments on this blog.  I don't post all of my comments, especially from Blog Trolls.

I quickly walked back to the house and, seeing Bill come out of the garage I said "One of the baby Purple Martin eggs fell out of the house and hatched in the grass." He knew what I was going to do:  BIRD RESCUE.

I got my big step ladder out of the garage, took it to the Purple Martin house.  Bill followed me.  I opened and climbed the ladder to the Purple Martin house and checked the first apartment.  Ah ha!  The very first apartment had five naked baby birds.  No eggs shells though.  Oh, wait a minute!  I think the mother Purple Martin made a BIG MISTAKE.  She was cleaning out the eggs shells and must have pulled one out that still had a baby bird in it.

The bottom middle hole is where I placed the baby Purple Martin

While I was at the top of the ladder, Bill had picked up the little creature and was cupping it in the palm of his hand.  I asked him to hand the baby bird to me.  It was warm in my hand as I placed it gently with its sisters and brothers in the apartment.

Interestingly there were no adult Purple Martins around when I discovered baby Purple Martin or while I was performing my rescue.  Once I placed the bird in the nest and climbed down the ladder and folded the ladder up and began to walk away Bill and I heard the squall of several Purple Martins.  We looked back and saw eight or nine Purple Martins swooping around the birdhouse, making a racket.

When I got back to the garage, I looked back and I saw a female Purple Martin scoot into that lower apartment where I placed the rescued baby bird.

Yes folks, all is well in my latest Backyard Drama.  This is good.

Bill after helping me with the Rescue, returns to working on our front driveway.
We're gay so we have a LOT OF COLOR when you enter our driveway.

Who's Been Eating My Porridge?

The culprit on my dill plants

One of my favorite summertime treats is freshly made zucchini soup with dill.  I grow my own dill plants in my backyard.  I grow LOT of dill in my backyard.  Thus I was somewhat perplexed yesterday when I ventured out into my private backyard Eden and found no dill.

What happened?  It didn't take me too long to discover that I am now sharing my backyard dill plants with the pupa of the black swallowtail butterfly.

I've already given up on harvesting much of my parsley plants because the swallowtail pupa also feast on that herb. This summer however they had a tough time because the pupa apparently are a favorite food source of the Purple Martins that take up residence in my backyard every summer.  I think the Purple Martins won that battle because I haven't seen too many adult black swallowtail butterflies in our backyard this summer.

The Purple Martins left about three weeks ago for South America.  The swallows have also gone points south.  Except for an occasional sparrow, our  backyard is bird free.  Thus all of my dill plants (and I have plenty) are covered in the green and black swallowtail pupa.

So I took the zucchini dill soup off of the menu and have instead substituted fresh garden tomato herb soup.  I made a batch yesterday, delicious!

An Abundance of Tomatoes

Our tomato crop (before distribution to the neighbors)

Early this spring I brought two six packs of very small tomatoes plants.  I think they cost $1.25 each.  One six pack had cherry tomatoes, the other six pack had regular sized potatoes.  Don't ask me what kind of tomatoes they are.  I only know "big and small tomatoes."  I planted these tomato seedlings wherever I could fit them into little nooks and crannies in my backyard flower beds.  Now they are coming on STRONG!  We're being buried in tomatoes!

Bill and I both love fresh tomatoes.  I make a fresh tomato thyme soup; skin, seeds and all (I throw nothing out). I also make fresh tomato salsa.  I don't like the soupy salsa that restaurants usually serve.  To me fresh salsa is made with chopped red onion, diced cherry tomatoes and a "touch" of jalapeño pepper.  Oh it is SO GOOD.  No salt, no cilantro; just fresh tomatoes and onion and a kick of jalapeño pepper.

Bill likes his tomatoes raw.  He quarters them and puts them in his cereal bowl with a dollop (or two) of mayo.  That's his breakfast, lunch and dinner during the season.  In fact, he's eating some now.

Today we reached the point where we can't keep up with our backyard tomato harvest.  Today we start giving away tomatoes.  Yes, we are those folks who unload their overabundance of garden produce on their neighbors.

I even called our former neighbor Alan, who has since moved to the pricey environs of the houses along Rehoboth Bay and arranged to dropped in visit him at 10 this morning ostensibly to see his new digs but we're BRING ALONG THE TOMATOES!  Truth be told, I did call him earlier this morning and ask him if he and his wife would like some tomatoes and he said he loved them.

I've called my other neighbors but no one else has answered their phones.  Maybe they know what I'm calling about.  Or maybe it's just too early in the morning.

Thus, yet another benefit of living in our new home here in southern Delaware, we can actually grow our own tomatoes.  We tried that at our home in Pennsylvania but the deer always ate the tomato plants before the blossoms even fell off.

Now to look up that new tomato sauce recipe.

Friends and Neighbors - Gay and Straight

Bob's "vineyard" in Milton, DE 

Okay, so it's not the Loire Valley of France.  My blogger friend Walt frequently posts pictures of the beautiful grape vineyards near where he lives in France.  That to me seems like another world.  Who knew that we had a grape vineyard right in our own back yard here in Milton, Delaware!

This is a picture that I took on this hot and muggy midsummer day morning at our good friend Bob's home in Milton, DE.  Bill and I stopped over for a visit this morning to "inspect" Bob's garden after he weeded it.
 

Bill and Bob in Bob's vineyard

Friends like Bob is something we have down here in Delaware that we didn't have when we lived in Pennsylvania.  As much as Bill loved our home in Pennsylvania, we didn't have a social network of friends like us, old and gay.  We're past our bar hopping days.  We're no longer looking for Mr. Right.  Either we found Mr. Right (I did with Bill) or we are living out the remaining years of our life as an older, single gay man.  I think I just outed Bob, oh well.

In Pennsylvania we had neighbors, some very nice.  I had straight friend, both male and female, also very nice.  But we had no gay friends.  I know straight people take having friends for granted but just imagine straight people if you were living in a predominantly gay community and the only straight people around were in the closet.  You didn't know who they were.  Would you feel comfortable living out your remaining years in that circumstance?

Well, no offense to my straight friends and neighbors in Pennsylvania, but I feel we have a more fulfilling and complete life now that we have a social network of mostly gay friends.  Oh, I have straight friends and neighbors here in Delaware who are just wonderful and I appreciate their friendship so much.  But both Bill and I need those friends with whom we can feel totally comfortable with and let our hair down (for those of us who have hair, I'm just using this term as a metaphor).

Escaping the high Pennsylvania taxes wasn't the only reason I moved to Delaware for my retirement years. To be near the ocean wasn't the only reason I moved to Delaware.  The slow paced lifestyle wasn't the only reason I moved to Delaware. The wide open spaces wasn't the only reason I moved to Delaware.

Nope, one of the main reasons I moved to Delaware was to have a more balanced social network of friends, both gay and straight.  That wasn't possible in Pennsylvania.

Rather than constantly having to be careful what you say around your straight friends, with gay friends and especially gay friends who are of the same age group, we can be as comfortable, relaxed and happy as any retired straight couple.

Delaware has a lot going for it, and being a very gay friendly state is just one of the many reasons I knew I made the right decision to spend my retirement years in this little state on the Delmarva peninsula.

It doesn't get much better than this folks.  

Then There Was One

The last baby bluebird - 15 minutes ago

As regular readers of my blog know, I raise baby bluebirds in my backyard oasis here in the coastal shores of southern Delaware.

I've been greatly concerned that the high heat and humidity of this past week would kill the second batch of baby bluebirds that hatched a few weeks ago in my backyard wildlife habitat.  There were four babyblue birds stuffed in that little bluebird house.  Every time I went past the blue bird box when I was refreshing the water in the many birdbaths I have lining by backyard, I would take a peek in the hole to the bluebird box and see gasping baby bluebirds.  I know from experience not to do anything but let nature take its course.  I suspected the baby bluebirds were at least a week away from flying from their nest.

Thus it was with some surprise a few minutes ago I peered into the hole and didn't see any gasping baby bluebirds.  Instead, this is what I saw:  a lone, terrified baby bluebird.  You can tell by the development of it's little wings that it isn't quite ready to leave its nest yet.

I'm wondering what happened to the other baby bluebirds.  I hope they're all right.  I know I have a fox out back.  Something knocked over my big cement birdbath.  It wasn't any bird that knocked over that birdbath.  Bill says he where the fox has dug holes in the compost surrounding my newly planted knockout rose bushes.  Plus, the baby rabbit that was nibbling on my petunias is gone. The petunias are flourishing now that they aren't providing an early evening salad for Peter Rabbit.

My little not quite an acre backyard oasis was quite successful this year in producing many batches of Purple Martins, swallows, bluebirds and (egads!) starlings.  I didn't know starlings were in my Purple Martin house until they were born.  By then it was too late for me to remove them from the birdhouse.

Soon our backyard will be quite.  No more the squawking of the Purple Martins and their many broods of baby Purple Martins.  No more swallows gracefully swooping over our backyard in the dusk of late day gathering flying insects that were unfortunately happen to be in their path of flight.

We're sweltering here folks under this unusual heat wave for this area of the country but the wildlife manages, with a little help from me.  I've been refreshing the birdbaths in our backyard at least a dozen time a day.

My neighbor Barbara just hollered at me from her back deck "Hey Ron!  What are you doing out in this heat!?"  I told her "I have to get water for my friends, they're thirsty!"  And indeed, they are.

I hope those baby bluebirds who left their nest today make it through the night.  I worry about them.

Spidey Gets a Big One

You think you have problems?  How would you like to be in the position of this June bug who obviously took the wrong turn somewhere and ended up getting wrapped up for Spidey's future lunch?

I went back about an hour later and the "package" was gone.  I suspect one of my Purple Martins or starlings made off with the June Bug wrap.

All this life and death drama going on right in my own backyard.  Sort of puts things in perspective doesn't it?

I just got off the phone with my dental insurer.  After going through the Menu Hell I finally got a real person.  When I explained to "Jerry" that they sent my dental reimbursement cleaning check for $166 to the dentist when it clearly says on my form "Send check to insured", he said he would have to "investigate."  Another delay.  I told him that ever since I changed my dental plan, not once...NOT ONCE has my claim process gone smoothly.  I asked him "Why is that?  Is that part of your procedure?"  Again, he didn't have an answer bur assured me he would "call be back."

One of my pet peeves is lousy customer service.  Incompetent customer service.  Also insurance companies.  They don't make it easy to get a claim fulfilled.  That's not an accident.  That is their policy.  But after seeing June bug ending up in a wrap for Spidey's lunch, I guess I have to take things in context.

Butterflies in the Oregano

Oh how I love summer days.  This is a short video I took of my herb garden which borders my backyard.  If you turn the music off you'll hear my happy birds chirping away, see the many butterflies gracefully landing on the blooming oregano plants and hear the traffic roar down Rt. 1, which is the main artery from northern Delaware and Pennsylvania to Rehoboth Beach and points south like Ocean City, Maryland.

Bill and I drove around most of the morning through our neighboring developments to see the landscaping designs of our neighbors and also to visit a couple of landscapers to see what kind of stone they have for sale.  Southern Delware has NO STONE, unlike southeastern Pennsylvania where we used to live where there was PLENTY OF STONE.  In fact we lived practically on top of stone quarries.

One of the landscapers that we stopped in to visit this morning was bragging about his stone being "imported" from Arizona.  Well... LA DE DAH!  I thought all they had in Arizona was cactus and 120 degree dry heat.  Stone?

We decided to do nothing today.  It is just too hot and humid to do anything.  The hot weather doesn't stop all the activity of nature in my backyard though.  There is a new batch of baby bluebirds (sweltering in their non-airconditioned bluebird house) and another batch of swallows that are about to leave their nest.  Some sad news, one of the baby swallows got caught in the open ventilating space in top of the bluebird house that they are occupying and died.  So sad.  I'm always sad when I see any of the baby birds that are born in my back yard not make it out of the nest.  But that is nature taking its course.

Enjoy the video!

Hibiscus

Hey folks, I'm still not in the mood for blog posting.  So I'm going to cheat today and make a very short post.  I took this picture this morning of my hibiscus plant that just bloomed today.

I'm going for lunch now.  I spent all morning cutting back my butterfly bush which was blocking Bill's view of our new river birch tree oval flower garden in our backyard.  Bill hates living down here in Delaware.  I planted the river birch trees and surround them with all manner of colorful flowers.  I find that soothes Bill and he might actually begin to like living here on the beautiful flatlands of coastal Delaware.

It is interesting but I find once I get away from posting my blog daily, I tend to let it go.  I can't do that.  There is so much that I want to tell and so little time.  This isn't what I thought retirement would be about at all.  I thought I would have all kinds of time to do everything I wanted to do.  That hasn't happened.  I'll tell you what though.  I am having the best time of my life.  This IS what retirement is about, finally doing with your life exactly what you want to do whether it be taking on a lot of projects or just doing nothing.

Right now I think I'll do nothing.  I'm feeling a bit lazy now.  Maybe it's the weather.  These 90 degree days with high humidity saps the strength out of me. I'll be back after my Power Nap.

Returning to the Scene of the Crime

Bluebird eggs at risk yesterday with the arrival of the Demon Kid

Remember a few weeks ago that I posted that someone had torn out the swallow bird nest (with live baby swallows in it) when Bill and I were on vacation down South?  I did a little sleuthing and came to the conclusion that it was the eight year old Hispanic boy who was with the lawn maintenance guy that my neighbor Tom had doing his lawn.

My neighbor Tom's Hispanic lawn maintenance crew yesterday arrives

Bill had pointed out to me before "how cute" the kid was with his hyperactive antics whenever he accompanied his dad (?) to his lawn maintenance job.  Thus, it didn't take too much to figure out who opened the bluebird box that contained the live baby swallows.  It had to take someone about three feet tall to reach up and put his greasy little finger in the open and pull the wooden door down because the latch was still in place.  At first I couldn't figure out how the door got open with the latch still in place.  I thought maybe a cat or another animal got into the bird box.  But to have the strength to pull the latch?  No, couldn't be.

After running different scenarios through my mind, this hyper active kid popped to the front.  Yes, this would be something that a curious, hyperactive, unsupervised, eight year old brat would do.  I went back out to the bird box to look for evidence.  Almost immediately I saw a small indentation in the thyme that I have planted at the base of the bird box.  In fact, right at the very base is a wild rose bush.  The indentation was to the left.  Viola!  That's why he put his finger up to hook it into the hole that is the opening to the bird box.  Once he opened the bird box he was too short to see into the nest so he obviously put his stinking, dirty, greasy little paw up to the nest and pulled it out.  He was probably very pleased to find four naked, three day old baby swallows in the nest.  His short attention span was satiated if only for a moment.

When Bill and I discovered the bird box door was open the next morning after we returned from our trip, I immediately went out to see what happened.  I saw the empty nest on the ground.  No baby swallows.  No adult swallows.  Gone.

Not knowing what else to to, I put the neatly built nest (which was cushioned by many down feathers from unknown birds) back in the bird box, hoping the adult swallows return and lay more eggs.  The determined sparrows do it so why not the swallows?  Well, it was not to be.

The bird box remained empty for two week until a week ago when the blue birds returned. Hallelujah!  This was great news!  The blue birds had returned.  For the past two years the blue birds have raised two batches of baby bluebirds in that box.  This year, right on cue in early April the blue birds returned only to be met by a very determined sparrow.  The determined sparrow had already killed a swallow in that bird box plus in another bird box.  I guess the blue birds assumed it was too dangerous to build a nest in that bird box this year.  They left and the swallows took over.  Oh, Bill took care of the determined sparrow.  He trapped it and "disposed" of it.  One less sparrow in the world, hooray!

We figured if we couldn't have the bluebirds raising their young in that bird box this year, at least the swallows would have a chance.  That is until the ADHD monster arrived on the scene.

I told Bill "He'll be back."  Bill said, "No, I think that was a one time job Tom (our neighbor) had done."  I disagreed.  I said to Bill, "Oh no, that little destructive monster will be back."  And sure enough, yesterday the little hyperactive brat was back.  However, this time he was staying in the truck.

A ha!  Either his dad knew what he did or this ADHD kid caused trouble at some of his other job locations.  I wanted to go out immediately and have words with Miguel (or whatever his name is.)  Manual, Poncho, Pedro....whatever.  Probably Jesus pronounced "Hey Zeus!"

Bill said don't do anything unless he gets out of the truck.  I agreed with Bill.  I went to our second floor and kept an eagle eye on that truck.  Occasionally I would see The Brat popping out of the driver's window.  One time he was almost all the way out.  This kid has so much energy, he could hardly contained himself.  I figured now was the time to go out and have a discussion with his dad Jorge (pronounced Whore Hey!) or whatever his name is (Juan, Carolos, Fernando or Pablo - take your pick.)

As I was walking towards dad Jose (pronounced Hose Hey!) on his tractor, he stopped immediately and looked at me with dread.  He knew this was trouble.  The kid pokes his stupid little head out the driver's side of dad's truck, a HUGE smile on his face.  This kid is ready to do Major Destruction.  I say "Ola", which I think is a standard form of Hispanic greeting.  But then my Spanish fails me.  I know a few words like "Amigo", and "Gracias" but none of those words will apply to this situation.  I figure the best thing to do is speak very slowly in English (or as they say "Inglis") and do a lot of motioning with my hands.

The Little Terror has the driver's side door open, ready to pop out and cause mayhem

I got his attention.  Pointing to his brat in the truck I say "Someone opened that bird box (I point to the bird box) and took out the nest."  Pointing to his monster, I say "I have reason to believe that it was him!"  I continue (motioning my arms wildly hoping this would make him understand I am really pissed), "No! No! No!"  And pointing to destructive little monster that he has in the truck, I say "An this isn't funny!" (like he understood me.  Made me feel good to say it.)

I motioned again to the bird box and say as loud as I can "NO!"  I think I got through.  In fact, the look on Hector's face (or whatever his name is), led me to believe that he thought I was going to deport him.  I am certain he is an illegal.  He just had that look of utter terror when I approached him.

Once back in our house I continued to monitor the situation.  The Devil's Spawn kept popping in and out of the driver's side window.  Then about a half an hour later went to the door and said something to the kid and opened the door.  Damien sprung out and ran to the side of the house.  Obviously a bathroom call.  After pissing on the side of my neighbor Tom's house he ran right back to the truck and hopped into the cab just like his father Alejandro (pronounced "Alley Hand Dro") told him to do.

Note the Devil's Spawn running towards the tree to take a pee

After his dad finished the lawn mowing (along with another illegal who collected the grass and it in another truck), he opened the door of his truck to let his kid out.  Immediately ADHD kid was doing cartwheels on my neighbor's lawn.  Damn, this kid has about as much energy as that BP induced oil volcano in the Gulf of Mexico.  GET HIM OUT OF HERE!

They left around 5 o'clock.  I could finally take my afternoon nap, secure in the knowledge that a destructive, wild child wasn't going to destroy another bird nest.

The Illegals with their Monster Brat getting out of Dodge

This morning I went out to check the blue bird house and found that another egg has been added.  This make one more to go.  Bluebirds usually lay four eggs.  They take about a week to hatch and about four weeks for the bluebirds to grow into maturity.  During that time I am positive that Pedro, Diego or (oh no, this couldn't be his name "Angel" and Pancho will return.  When they do I will be ready for them.
I'm calling Immigration this time.

The bluebird nest today, a third egg.  Safe...for the time being.

Backyards

Me in my backyard this afternoon - peaceful bliss - 2010

Ask me what my absolute favorite pastime is and I'll tell you it is working in my backyard.

Sometimes it seems as if I've been working my whole life to achieve the peace and tranquility of working in my own back yard.  I know to some this seems odd but I've always loved working in a yard.

Perhaps my overwhelming desire had to do with where I grew up.  I spent most of my school years living in a second floor apartment.  Our family's first apartment was on Washington Avenue in Downingtown, PA.  It was a cockroach infested apartment that rented for $22 a month (this was in the Fifties.)

2nd Floor Front - our apartment on Washington Ave., Downingtown, PA - 2001

Our family sitting on the steps at Washington Avenue -our "backyard" - 1953

When I was eleven years old our family moved to a second floor apartment located over a office at a trailer manufacturing plant where my father worked on Boot Road, on the outskirts of Downingtown, PA.  We paid no rent for that apartment.  In lieu of paying a watchman for the plant, our family was the "watchman."

Our apartment on Boot Road, Downingtown - that's Mom on the "porch" -1956

When I was a senior in high school my parents brought three acres of land four miles outside of Downingtown and built a small ranch house.  Our family of five with four males over 6'4" tall moved into that tiny ranch house.  I remember well bumping and scraping my elbows on the stucco hallway walls walking to my first ever bedroom that was mine alone.  I had been pestering my Mother for my own bedroom as long as I could remember. Since I was the oldest I felt that it was my due plus I didn't like sharing a bed with my two brothers.  I wanted my own bed.  To this day I sleep alone.  That is the way I prefer it.

My parents home on Hopewell Road, Downingtown, PA - 2001

All during my growing up years I always envied my friends and schoolmates who had their own backyards.  None of my friends realized what a treasure they had in having their very own back yards.  I don't know of a one who liked to work in their back yard.  Something really seemed wrong with this picture because I was the one who wanted my own piece of land.  Now that our family finally had some land, I still wasn't satisfied.  The land was my father's.  He was a gardner and he called the shots.  He only believed in planting vegetables.  Whenever I suggested planting flowers or other plantings his usual response was "You can't eat that!"

I only lived on that parcel of land for a few months.  After graduating from high school, and with a six month detour for a hernia operation and the subsequent staph infection that I got form the hospital, I joined the Army in January of 1963.  No more back yard for me for years.

After leaving the Army in January of 1963, I moved to Pittsburgh, PA in.....you guessed it....an apartment.  Actually, I moved into a room.  I didn't even have my own bathroom.  I had to share a bathroom with five other apartment/rooms in the old Victorian mansion that I lived in on Roup Street in Shadyside, Pittsburgh.  You couldn't beat the rent at $8.00 a week but the bathroom accommodations sucked.

After three months of living in Pittsburgh, I has homesick for eastern Pennsylvania and Downingtown.  I moved back to Downingtown and got an....you guessed it...apartment in Coatesville, PA.  Still no backyard.  I lived there for 2 1/2 years.  Then I met Bill, my Life Partner.  About six months after meeting Bill, I acceded to his wishes and moved in with him at his....you guess it....apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey.  Still no backyard.

Bill and I lived at the Penn Manor Apartments for a few years then we moved to Philadelphia so I could be closer to my job at Girard Bank by City Hall in Philadelphia.  We moved to ........Cheswick Square apartments on Ridge Avenue in Roxborough, PA.  Still no backyard but I did have a pool now.  Progress.

Bill and I lived at Cheswick Square for a few years and moved when I decided that I wanted to partake of the night life in Philadelphia without the worry of driving plus I could walk to work.  We bought a townhouse on Naudain Street, on the very edge of center city, Philadelphia.  The row house was 16 feet wide and 50 feet long with a back yard!  Finally.  Actually, it wasn't much of a back yard.  More like a postage stamp back yard.  No grass.  The surface of the backyard was patio slate with some small raised beds for flowers.  But I finally had some space, limited as it was.  In fact it wasn't enough space so Bill punched a hole in the roof and we had a roof deck with container pots.  That worked somewhat but it still wasn't a back yard.

Our townhouse on Naudain Street in Philadelphia, PA - 1972

After eleven years I decided I had enough of the city life and we bought land near my parent's home in Downingtown.  Six point eight acres.  Now I had a yard.  Actually, I didn't have a yard as much as I had a opening in the woods.  But still, it was my (our) land.  For twenty five years I purchased plants and shrubs and competed with the deer to see which plants would survive.  The deer won.

Me and Bill's home on Crawford Road, Downingtown, PA - 2001

In 2006 I decided I had enough of our wooded paradise in Pennsylvania.  As beautiful as it was I couldn't see how I could survive long range paying the ever escalating school and personal property taxes of Pennsylvania.  I decided to realize my life long dream of living near the ocean, in a neighborhood, with a back yard.  And that my friends is where I am now.  It is wonderful.

Home - 2010

Life and Death in the Backyard

Perhaps my greatest pleasure living in southern Delaware is my back yard.

I live in a development of three quarter acre lots.  I chose my corner lot because it is almost an acre and backs up to a farmer's field.  Beyond the field is Route 1.  I am far enough away from Route 1 that the constant traffic doesn't bother me but is rather like a living panorama.

The real panorama is what goes on in my backyard during the spring and summer months.  I love grow flowers and herbs.  I also love to provide a natural habitat for several native bird species.

I have my back yard lined with three blue bird (or swallow) boxes and one purple martin house.

The past two years I have had bluebirds take up residence in one of the bluebird houses and raise two batches of four baby bluebirds each season.

The blue bird house in contention

Each year I have had to fight the common house sparrow who are a non-native bird species.  The sparrows come in early and take over the bird boxes, fighting off and killing the native species of birds that I am trying provide a home for.

This year the sparrows have been particularly aggressive.  So aggressive that the bluebirds have given up even building a nest in the same box that they built in the past two years.

A pair of swallows is attempting to build a nest in that blue bird box. So far the sparrows have killed one of the swallows.  I came back from an errand one day and checked the box only to have a sparrow fly out of the box, leaving a dead swallow in the box.  That was two weeks ago.

Since then Bill has built a contraption to trap the sparrow in the box.  After I returned from my visit in Pennsylvania he showed me the male sparrow that he caught with a bottle that he put to the door of the bluebird house that he had trapped.  He intended to keep the sparrow for me but the sparrow died in the bottle.  He didn't know why it died because he left the lid ajar for air.  Maybe the bird died from shock that he was caught.  Good.  I was going to twist its neck anyway.

Since then another pair of swallows has been attempting to build a nest but without success.  Last Saturday I was checking one of the other bluebird boxes and I was shocked by what I found.  The sparrows had built a nest but to the side was a dead swallow.  As incredible as it seems, the sparrows were going to raise their young with a dead bird in their box!

I took the dead swallow out of the box and tore out the sparrow nesting.  Below is what happens when you let sparrows take over your bird boxes.

This is the dead swallow in the sparrow nesting.  

The dead swallow before I buried it

Last year I wrote several blogs about my battles with the sparrows.  I never caught one last year but they never did raise any of their young in my backyard.  I lost count of the nest I tore out.  I threw out a total of 19 if the brown speckled sparrow eggs.  I don't have a problem throwing out the sparrow eggs but I don't think I could destroy young sparrows.  I'm not that ruthless.....yet.  

At the present time there is a sparrow nest in one of the purple martin apartments.  I'll wait until they lay their eggs and then I'll take out their nest, eggs and all.  There is a downside to this.  Last year when I tore out one of the nest the sparrow got into one of the purple martin apartment and killed three baby purple martins.

Planter boxes that edge my back yard bull of herbs

I grow a lot of flowers and herbs in my back yard.  The bees and other insects love those plants and, in turn the birds feed off of the insect.  I love sitting out in the early summer evening and watching the purple martins and swallows soar up and down in my back yard catching insects.  I understand some people's concerns for all birds but I will not permit the sparrows to take over my back yard.  They can find somewhere else to raise their young because it won't be in my backyard as long as I live here.

The purple martin house with gourds for the swallows

The Milton, DE House and Garden Tour Part II

The humidity is back. We had about a week of low humidity, warm summer temperatures here on the eastern coast of the Delmarva peninsula near Cape Henlopen. This morning I did some yard work but I had to come in after a couple of hours because the humidity and heat drained the energy out of me. I am so thankful that the gods yesterday bestowed upon us such a wonderful summer day of warm temperatures, mild breezes and low humidity. It was ideal for the Milton Garden Tour, which I'm still relishing in my mind. This is the first garden tour I've ever done in my life and I loved it.

I'm a naturally nosy person anyway so I like to see other people's homes and gardens and see what their creative minds come up with. Yesterday was not a disappointment. Even though there were only twelve houses and gardens on the tour, most of the house were very different. The houses varied from one built in 1750 to more recent houses built in developments. From cozy enclosed backyards to open area backyards (like mine.) A few of the houses permitted us to also tour their houses which was a special treat for me, an inveterate open house type of person. I always get new ideas from seeing how other people decorate their houses. For relaxation some people go golfing, some go fishing. I love to see other people's houses and gardens.

A pleasant surprise yesterday was the way the Milton Garden Tour was organized. From purchasing my ticket at a table in front of the Milton Historical Society building to the numbered flowered markers of each building; one could quickly tell the people who organized this tour love what they are doing. At each stop we were greeted and offered refreshments and information about the property. As we left, we were thanked for visiting the property. How pleasant to be treated with such dignity and respect and friendliness in this world when such attributes are too often in short supply. Already I am eagerly anticipating next year's house and garden tour.