A) Puck*
B) Peony
C) Pepo**
*A moon named after a character in Shakespeare that is orbiting Uranus.
**A synonym for watermelon. Fruits in the shape of watermelons.
P Is For…
Tag: Puck
Macro Morning
I got out my macro lens this morning and René and I started crawling around under squash leaves to get photos of a bee inside a squash blossom. The bee was pretty cute, but after several snaps it got tired of having a lens in its face and showed me a hefty pair of bee fangs. I can’t resist doing macro shots of damselflies and dragonflies. I sneak up on them until they fly, freeze in place and wait for them to come back (they often do), sneak up a little closer — they fly, I freeze, they come back — and the process continues until I either get the shots I want or they decide I’m too close and don’t come back.
Mama Manx has a cave in the cucumber patch where she lays on the cool mulch under the shade of the cucumber leaves. When one of us gets too close to the entrance of her cucumber cave, she darts out like a moray eel, chatters at us, then retreats back into her cave.
Puck is working on his memoirs, “Don’t Puck With Me”, and while he was taking a break he pestered Laurie for some attention while she was reading. Guildenstern was intently playing with clover under my chair while I sat on the deck enjoying the fine summer morning.
Cool of the Evening
I finally got to irrigate after 7 weeks, so the wet soil and mulch made for a cool evening for the kitties, bumblebees and damselflies to hangout in the clover. Laurie was sketching the yard, sans power poles, and Mama Manx was using her head to help Laurie hold up her sketchpad.
Fly, Fly Away
We’re leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when we’ll be back again. Well, we’ll be back sometime. With being in the air for around 14 hours, I might actually end up missing a day on the blog — c’est la vie!
King Puck
Puck was very proud of the results of his roll in the dirt when I got home. He trotted up proudly and posed like a king, asking me to photograph him to show everyone, pardonnez mon Français, how pucking dirty he got. Speaking of French, my fluency in French expletives improved greatly last night while I snaked out the drain. I had to go at it from the clean-out below the sink, the drain in the laundry room, and the clean-out outside (twice each), and then plunge the sink before I got the sink to drain freely. On the bright side, I got finished in time to photograph trois tulips in the twilight.
Chemtrails, Bikers & Puck
The “chemtrails” as some people call them, more commonly known as “contrails”, made quite interesting patterns crisscrossing under the sun this morning. As the temperatures continue to warm, I’m seeing a lot more bikers on the road. Laurie left the door open to the study so the cats could be in it with her the other night — Puck was very happy to lay in his favorite spots he missed since I put the door on the study.
Three Beauties, Three Beasts
Beautiful women and beastly cats.
Shakespeare Cats
I found Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Puck keeping an eye on each other when I got home from photographing the Sandias and cranes this morning.
Comics Connoisseur
Apparently Stretch is becoming a comics connoisseur from Laurie reading Tintin while we waterboard him (subcutaneous fluids for renal failure) every night, because when I went back out to the kitchen last night after he thought we had gone to bed, I found him reading the funnies that Laurie had left on her book holder. He was so engrossed that I was able to sneak a photo before he noticed me and slinked off, looking a little embarrassed.
When the Sandias turned pink at sunset, I decided to try a panorama through the bare cottonwoods. While I was photographing the mountains, a great blue heron landed on a cottonwood between the irrigation and clearwater ditches, affording me the opportunity to get a pretty clear photo of it. When I was going back inside, Puck had all his attention fixed on something. I couldn’t see what it was, but he was so concentrated that I snapped the photo of him. The shutter clicking interrupted his concentration, he glanced at me, then started looking around as if he was trying to find the object of his attention, scolded me with a few choice meows when he seemed not to see it again (I assume he was saying “nice going stupid ¡#%&^@$*! photographer”), then he jumped down off the railing and came inside with me. When I went out a little later, I was able to get a detailed shot of the moon in the clear, cold, winter sky.
Black Cats on White
We had to wash our down comforter, and we haven’t put the pink cover back on it, so the black cats have been really enjoying laying around on the clean comforter, napping hard to get it dirty again. Before we got the comforter dry, we had wooly, “cat magnet” blankets on the bed which Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Diné enjoy lounging around on.
Tuesday morning the analog thermometer read -12 degrees F and our pipes were freezing up. Wednesday morning dropped below zero as well, but to look at it optimistically, it was only half as cold at -6 degrees F. The weather widget is forecasting a low of only 18 for tonight — one can only hope — but it really means our low will be around 8 maybe lower since the temperatur is already down to 10. The high for tomorrow is supposed to be 46, which may well happen — a heat wave. I’m still waiting for global warming to kick in on our property, because it just does not seem to be happening for us.
Off Center & Not Even 