It was drizzling rain Saturday morning and the puddles in the dooryard indicated it had rained most of the night. I put on my new [!] boots and trudged up the back pasture on litter box duty.
Pebbles the Horse spotted me and commenced 'hollering' in her most piteous starving equine voice, so I went back out and up the lane to the barn.
I fed the tortie barn cats, dished out Pebbles' grain and smashed her pill into it.
[The daily battle of the pill seems to be over--she is liking a new type of grain so well that the crumbled tablet is being consumed along with the yummy grain.]
I noted the garden spider clinging to the rough barn siding with her precious egg sacs dangling above her, near a partially dismantled electrical box.
These spiders [argiope aurantia] fascinate me--and they never enter the house!
So--back up through the wet, trailing cats, to record the spider and her efforts of propagation.
Here she is--locals refer to these as 'garden spiders.'
The dismal morning cleared into a brilliant afternoon.
One [final?] blossom shimmered on the magnolia tree.
A work bee at our church this weekend and those in charge decided to pull out seven Knock-Out roses which were crowding their space along the walk.
They were laid in a heap along the driveway when I arrived to help clean inside the church.
'What are you doing with the roses?' I inquired.
'Taking them to the landfill,' was the reply.
I was horrified!
'Will you let me take them home?'
Our friend, LW, grinned.'
'Jim told me you'd want to rescue these!'
When I had finished my cleaning stint inside I returned to the rosebushes.
LW produced a pair of leather gloves for me, another friend loaned me his strong sharp 'loppers.'
I trimmed the bushes severely, dragged them across the parking lot to our van, and heaved them in.
J. was part of the crew cutting down a tree or two and loading sections of log onto his truck.
I was taking no chances that the rose bushes might mysteriously 'fall off' the load if I put them on the truck!
I stopped at the Subway shop for 'grinders' on the way home, and after a pleasant half hour on the front porch devouring the long roll stuffed with smoked turkey, provolone, and sliced veggies, I found a shovel and decided to plant the roses behind the clothesline.
I had moved only a shovelful or three of dirt and sod before J. appeared and dug the 7 holes for me.
[If he hadn't I might have fallen into one of my excavations in exhaustion!]
I know--we've seen endless photos of the pink phlox, but look how lovely with the revived midnight blue salvia and whatever the fuzzy pale blue flowers may be.
The Sunrise Coneflower has decided to make an effort before frost.
Small pots of Michaelmas daisies were languishing in the Wal Mart garden center.
I rescued three of them although I was hoping for other colors. These are an un-named variety, appearing to be slightly double, possible of shorter stature than the ones I have.
I forget what I had planted in this spot--whatever it was disappeared, so hopefully the 'asters' will fill in.
J. took this photo of the hummingbird with his camera.
They are such busy birds--almost impossible to get a shot of them without the blur of wings.
I love the play of sunshine and shadow in autumn.
A view from the front porch in late afternoon.
More shadows, around the big rock.
I am pleased with the cleome there--quite 'architectural'--don't you think?
As well as being decorative, it offers a lovely hiding place for the cats
[or so they believe.]