Tick Talk! #phenology

No, not the video app but the arachnids that are out in very small sizes and relatively large numbers so far this year. Already today I’ve removed one from my t-shirt and another that was crawling across the keyboard of my laptop. There’s a distinct possibility that one or both of the dogs are sneaking the creatures into the house and leaving them on the furniture for humans to enjoy. I now have the creepy feeling of wondering how many I’ve missed that are still around on me or in the house. I’ve complained more than once about the existence of ticks, but one of my favorite authors, Gene Hill, has a wonderful explanation. It’s found in A Hunter’s Fireside Book under the title Jennifer Asks “Why?” 

Thanks to yeoman-like efforts by the Better Half, after I drove the tractor to drag a harrow over them, the front yard and most of the yard on the north side have been fertilized and seeded with a bee-friendly lawn mix. The next notable project for us is cleaning a day lily bed and preparing it for more planting. Meanwhile, if the rain doesn’t start too early tomorrow, I’m going to try to locate an active tunnel and set a couple of pocket gopher traps. Dirt mounds are popping up all over the south edge of the slope behind the house. Once the grass grows through the mounds, the mower deck catches hell on those mounds so I’d much rather trap, harrow 'til almost level and then mow.

mid-May: dandelion in bloom

Photo by J. Harrington

The pear tree hasn’t come into blossom yet, nor have we seen the first dandelion. Maybe next week? No signs of marsh marigold flowers, either. On the other hand, this being Minnesota’s “fishing opener” (for walleyes), there were lots of little boats on trailers pushing pickups and SUVs down the highways. Early May is consistently the time in Minnesota when boats on trailers emerge, regardless of weather, unless it’s a late spring blizzard.

We hope all our readers have a wonderful Mother’s Day tomorrow. We’re looking at a relatively busy schedule so we may skip posting. Or not! We’ll play it by ear and see how it goes.

What I Learned From My Mother

By Julia Kasdorf

I learned from my mother how to love 

the living, to have plenty of vases on hand 

in case you have to rush to the hospital 

with peonies cut from the lawn, black ants 

still stuck to the buds. I learned to save jars 

large enough to hold fruit salad for a whole 

grieving household, to cube home-canned pears 

and peaches, to slice through maroon grape skins 

and flick out the sexual seeds with a knife point. 

I learned to attend viewings even if I didn’t know 

the deceased, to press the moist hands 

of the living, to look in their eyes and offer 

sympathy, as though I understood loss even then. 

I learned that whatever we say means nothing, 

what anyone will remember is that we came. 

I learned to believe I had the power to ease 

awful pains materially like an angel. 

Like a doctor, I learned to create 

from another’s suffering my own usefulness, and once 

you know how to do this, you can never refuse. 

To every house you enter, you must offer 

healing: a chocolate cake you baked yourself, 

the blessing of your voice, your chaste touch.

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