All Gone

 One of the squirrels figured out how to hang onto the suet feeder by its back legs and eat

around the mesh.  I keep chasing it off but it comes right back so here's how the suet feeder looked this morning.  Empty.  The suet all gone.  A Downy Woodpecker came to visit but found nothing to eat.  I won't refill the feeder just to have the squirrel gobble it up.  I filled the seed feeders for the other birds but the woodpeckers will have to eat elsewhere for a while.  Grr.

I picked two more tomatoes today.  They're the last two changing color so I'll have to ration them.

Cucumber number three is growing well now that it isn't stuck in the fencing.

And the Stella d'Oro lilies are still going strong.

 

 

 

14 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's 

I am not so sure, Fay thought, but she stood up, brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and stepped forward ready to face that particular demon.  An incredible scene greeted the women as they left the sanctuary of the Ladies’.  Fay expected to see Ham backed into the corner of the booth by Brady, expecting that the navy veteran and bachelor would have things to say to a man ballsy enough to slap his wife in public.  Instead Brady stood off to the side, his trusty fish bat in his hand.  Ham was sitting upright in the booth staring in disbelief at Naomi.  That formidable woman was leaning over him, her right hand twisted in the front of his shirt, the heel of her hand pressed to the bottom of his chin, keeping his eyes on hers. 

Honey stopped abruptly and Fay heard her rapid intake of breath.  Fay hid a smile at the scene.  The codgers had turned back to their newspapers and cooling coffee.  No one else was in the place.  She nearly laughed out loud to hear Naomi telling Ham in no uncertain terms,

“No man is ever allowed to hit a woman, ever.  And mister you had better hope you are far away from me if you ever decide that you are willing to risk it again.  Because I will hear about it and I will be there to do something about it.” 

Ham opened his mouth as if to speak, but Naomi forestalled him.  “Ah, ah, ah.  Do not thank me.  I know you are not used to having a woman telling you your business, but Mister Ham because I know that is your name, you had better get used to it.  Women are going to be running your life from now on.  Starting with this lovely lady right here.”  Naomi turned as Honey walked up to the booth.  “Ma’am,” Naomi said to her, “I hope you do not mind, but your husband and I have just had a little talk.  He will behave himself from now on.”

Honey looked down at her husband as he sat rumpled and sweaty in the booth, smoothing his hand down the front of his shirt, trying to press out the wrinkles from Naomi’s grip.  “Come on, Ham.  Let us go home.” 

He looked at Naomi whose formidable frame blocked his way.  Naomi smiled at him, her friendliest smile.  “You go on home, Mister Ham, with your missus.  And you just remember some of my neighbors are familiar with your habits.  I think you can be sure I will hear if you do not heed my words.”  She turned her smile on Honey.  “Ma’am, you have my sympathy.  And I apologize again for manhandling your husband, but I can not tolerate a man who strikes a woman.  Please come back and visit when you can.  We would love to see you again.” 

Honey stepped forward to give Naomi a hug.  The two clung to each other as if they were lifelong friends parting forever.  

Honey stepped back and looked into Naomi’s eyes.  “I am sorry our little problem interrupted your job interview.  The food was terrific; I trust you got the job.” 

Naomi nodded yes. 

“You can be sure I will be back to sample more of your good cooking.”  Honey turned to Fay and hugged her again.  “Thanks for listening,” she whispered in Fay’s ear, “and for caring enough to pry the story out of me.  I will be back.” 

After releasing Fay, she turned to her husband who still sat in the booth and had not said a word since she came out of the ladies’ room.  “Are you coming or staying?”  She held out her hand.  “If you are staying, give me the car keys.  I have some errands to run on the way home.”

Ham sat for another moment then slid to the end of the booth seat, cleared his throat, and stood up.  Naomi had moved but left him just enough space to stand.  He tried to avoid touching her but could not.

 “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said in a small voice. 

“Do not try that on me.  I am immune to your tricks.”  Naomi put a hand on his shoulder.  “Remember what I said.  I will be interested to hear if your behavior improves in the next few weeks.  It had better.” 

Honey winked at her, picked up her jacket and purse, and turned to leave.  Ham nodded once to Brady, tugged the lapels of his tweed sport coat, and followed his wife out the door.  Brady, Fay, Naomi, and the remaining codgers watched them. 

As they left, Fay turned to Naomi.  “How did you know that guy’s name anyway?” 

Naomi waved her hand.  “Oh, Mister Ham is famous with the hookers in the complex.  He has very specific tastes and pays very well for the privilege of satisfying those tastes.”  She gave a little shudder.  “Seems like everyone around here knows all about the president of the biggest paper mill in town and his dirty little secret.  Business must be bad if he is losing control in public.  I understand from a few of the girls that he has a lightning temper that he usually manages to keep under control until the bedroom door closes.” 

Today's toss was a fish-shaped teapot.  Also today was the second anniversary of Durwood's passing.  Somehow today was easier than his birthday was ten days ago.  I entertained some good memories, talked to DD and my SIL, and knitted with friends on Zoom.  Spent most of the day reading a book on my Kindle.  An excellent way to spend the day.

--Barbara