Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Homestead Meditations


One thing is certain – Wimbledon will not be held in my backyard this
year. (Trust me; the backyard doesn't look so good in real life. This is a glamor shot.)

I can’t tear the ugly brown lawn out fast enough.(That’s not true, of course. I could go faster, but it’s rather a stinking job.) And I’m lining a new series of rectangles with river rock. Only now do I realize they look like coffins – at least while they’re curing.



In the top photo, see the ugly cyclone fence to the right? That was supposed to be Albert’s dog run, something he has refused to enter since Day 1. If I force him in there, after he’s eaten all the unripe apples off my espaliered tree for example, then he gives forth with the most alarming and annoying barks I’ve ever heard. No, they’re not barks; they’re the high-pitched yelps that travel for miles on the Serengeti.

So then I let him out so he can go back to eating squirrel vomit and unripe tomatoes.



He’s awful, and he’s all mine. I just know deep in my heart, he’s going to live longer than any other dog I’ve ever had.

34 comments:

  1. Do you think there are a chance for Wimbleton next year?

    At least it's green.

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  2. Sounds like hard work. Glad I'm not the one doing it. (I'm usually not. I call it a gift).

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  3. Oh, how you malign poor Albert, who is only telling you he lurves you. What a sweetie, and he's oh so cute too.

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  4. Albert's dog photo rival's my horse photos....

    "I just know deep in my heart, he’s going to live longer than any other dog I’ve ever had."

    Truer words were never said. I have the same feeling/fear about Peoples.

    Yesterday while Peoples was doing his rounds of the home's perimeters, he suddenly coughed up a ball, stepped in it and wrist whipped the goop off his 20 toed mits...all without skipping a beat.

    Ok, upon proofing this, I realize you had to be there to appreciate it.

    wp: lactated
    now thats just sick

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  5. The remaining patch of lawn {a loose description} here is on borrowed time. It would be a long borrowed time, though, if I was pulling it out and replacing it with coffins. I mean, beds. Bless dear Albert! I am ashamed to admit that I observed my funny old tabby cat hoiking up something only to immediately eat it again. And he lived until he was 19 and a half. Maybe they are onto something. Euww.

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  6. From someone with no yard at all, I say your yard looks amazingly glamorous. And I'll be happy to come hang out in Albert's dog run and not bark, as long as you bring me ice tea and cookies every once in a while.

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  7. Oh i"m rolling on the floor. God love our sweet Albert. He's a crazy guy but he's OUR crazy guy. Send him down here for a little southern TLC. After a little fried okra and black eyed peas, he'll be as good as new. ( Expect gas problems) I'll send him back home, don't fret.

    I can't offer any help about that yard.

    V

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  8. Banjo: You can read poetry while I excavate.

    Margaret: He's no Scout.

    PA: He is a Peoples, and would fight for that hairball.

    Shell: I think the secret to longevity is in the annoyance factor.

    Katie: Done! Just stay away from the ripening cucumbers.

    Virg: Albert is all excited about increasing his gaseous powers. He's got the gun if you've got the ammo.

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  9. Hundreds of years from now, those coffins will thrill archaeologists, who will write papers about the first Beaker People grave sites on the American continent. As for Albert, look at his face! He thinks you really, really love him. Forever.

    wv: barfi. Good grief, are they reading the comments?

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  10. Oh I have the ammo. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that . I have proof I can't reveal. That last shot of A, makes me just roll. What did you have to offer to get that shot??? Maybe I don't want to know.

    Have I told you all lately how much I miss my So. Cal friends? HUh??
    V

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  11. This is too much. The photos, the post, and all the comments. Everyone's funny tonight including the word verifications. PA, you make me wish I had a cat. And Katie, I can picture you sitting in Karin's dog run waiting for your iced tea.

    Virginia, what did you feed Boz while you were here?

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  12. To paraphrase Nietzsche, that which doesn't kill Albert, makes him strong-ish.

    JJ

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  13. I believe that Albert will remain with you forever, to torture and love you, and ignore the dog run. Dogs have the gift of insight into our true feelings.

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  14. Albert knows you really don't want him in the dog run. He knows you really identify with his free spirit and his screams across the Serengeti.

    He loves you. Suffer it happily.

    p.s. He is cute, too!

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  15. Heck it's better that cement........pronounced see-ment like some redneck yards with a chain for the poor hound.

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  16. I'm still trying to figure out what "espaliered" means!!!

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  17. Chieftess, it's like spatchcocking a fruit tree.

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  18. The last foto of your dog with his head sticking outta ground is funny. One of your best shots yet.

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  19. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  20. A spatchcocked fruit tree? That's a brilliant definition of espaliered. I can't stop laughing.

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  21. I declare this National Albert Day!

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  22. Linda,
    So when were you here in B'ham? Yeeeehawww, there's always a dog tied up behind every double wide.

    Petrea,
    Oh dear, same prob as Albert?

    Hiker,
    That last photo made me "fall about" as our Jilly says.
    I've been dying to use it on somebody!

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  23. How Miss Janey covets those raised beds.

    Isn't squirrel vomit food for longevity?

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  24. Hope all that green stuff’s legal—Albert looks a little . . . charmed.

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  25. Clearly Albert is wild at heart and cannot bear to be penned in. He has the sweetest face ever! That's gotta count for something.

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  26. Yes! It's truuuuuuuuue loooooooove! And he espaliers to boot! You're CEA is worth his weight in, in, in, something...

    I wish I had a fenced yard and maybe one day Albert will too: yesterday morning I was eating breakfast on the patio and a pitbull made an unscheduled visit. After Hurricane Ivan fences were down and Ranger was mauled by a pitbull and I peed my pants getting said pitbull off of him so when this stranger showed up yesterday the cats and the dog were confused and I was hysterical. Literally. No one was hurt but now we're gonna have to go to court. You can send that chainlink fence to P-cola anytime.

    Today I brushed Ranger out and "Furminatered" him and then bathed him. Now we have dog hair for an oil boom and he weighs about 34 lbs lighter (OK, it seems like it). What a hairy beast! But it's true love and I think, like Albert, Ranger will live forever.

    wv grair
    hair for green purposes - oil booms and the like

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  27. CPO & Bandit, albert appreciates your vote.

    Miss Janey, I'll give you some maters when they're ripe.

    Linda & Virg, not with my dawg and not in my lifetime.

    Wild and daft at heart, Banjo & Carolynn.

    (Bellis, It was pleasing to use spatchcocked in another context.)

    Paula, that's all you need. I'll send some of pigpen's fur down there to bolster Ranger's. Think about you a lot, my friend, and our beautiful gulf.

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  28. Paula, if I've read this CNN report right, the tar on Florida beaches isn't from the Deepwater spill. It's shocking that ships are taking advantage of this crisis to pollute the ocean and beaches! I feel very sorry for all of you in the area.

    http://edition.cnn.com/2010/US/06/10/csi.gulf.oil.spill/index.html?iref=allsearch

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  29. Thanks, KB. Send those hairballs, we'll take 'em.

    Bellis, I'm not surprised. But the ships who dumped it can be caught through forensics and I pray that they do catch them.

    Right now, I can't bear to go anywhere near the beach, it would break my heart. And tonight I was shocked to find myself yelling at a BP TV commercial that has the CEO droning on and on. What liars. What ugly, ugly liars. I hope his mother boxes his ears.

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  30. I'm a little late to this party, but I love your yard. A work in progress.
    I just put three raised beds into my yard because planting in the ground just does work--it's like a death sentence to innocent plants and trees. Too much salt in the soil from the Bay. Next I suppose I can blame my black thumb on oil intrusion.

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  31. Albert Darlin',
    Check my blog in the am. It's just pour toi mon ami.

    Virg

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  32. This is so funny. Albert's head looks like it is popping out of the grass or grave...uh

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  33. Well squirrel vomit is obviously so yummy. It's a delicacy in some parts.

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