Very tired today; all this limping around in a boot, especially when I have to clear up for and after contractors, is wearying. They’re coming tomorrow to fix the dining room ceiling, which meant finishing Hubby’s puzzle and removing the two leaves from the table to give them more room to reach the ceiling to paint. All the pictures are off the wall, the chairs are stacked in the office, and all the thingie-ma-hoosies put away (we don’t have a lot of thingie-ma-hoosies). I’m dreading white paint splatters over whatever area of floor or furniture they will inevitably forget to cover.
Today’s wildlife encounters consisted of a bird species (I think a migrant blackpoll warbler) flying into my office window and bouncing back into the shrub. It was stuck there, unable to fly because it became tangled in the branches. I pulled it out, hoping it didn’t have a broken wing. It flew off the second I freed it, so all good there. Our fox friend came right up close to the front door, sniffing around for something, then made her way to the back yard to scare up some chipmunks. Also found a dead mouse in the basement, stuck to one of the sticky boards I set out two years ago. It’s the first mouse we’ve caught in two years—I thought we had the problem solved, but obviously they’re still finding their way into the house. I won’t be happy about this after the basement is finished. Pest control comes Thursday.
I went for a bike ride this afternoon, along the trail, and through the cemetery and some neighborhood streets. I counted at least a half-dozen new graves. The weather couldn’t be more perfect this evening: no wind, low 70s, and no humidity. I went out back to pick another bowl of blueberries, and a female cardinal perched on a chard plant, scolding me as if I were in her blueberry bush. I suppose I should leave some for the birds—not that they haven’t had their fill on cicadas for the past month. Speaking of which, our little red buggy-eyed friends are mostly gone now, save for the odd one here and there bumbling around looking for sex.
In honor of National Bug Busting Day, here’s a little ode to them (yes, I realize the meter is messed up):
T’was the week before summer and all through the region,
The cicadas were dwindling, soon they’ll be leaving.
Cute they may be—though not all would agree—
Their deafening shrill sure did suck,
In their search for a… mating partner.
Their eggs have been laid, soon nymphs we will have
Raining down from the trees,
Driving us mad.
They will burrow underground, here, here, and here,
Not to be seen for ‘nother 17 year.
Last night we had another torrential downpour, which seem to be more frequent. The new basement door leaked underneath again, and now that’s a different contractor who has to see to that before construction begins. He’s also supposed to be redoing our rotting deck, but, like all other contractors around here, they’re up to their eyeballs in work. It’s going to be a long summer.