Feeling like I'm all that with a brilliantly conceived mantel and all the rest of the Christmas frou-frou set out. Mr. B and I cut a wheelbarrow full of boughs, branches and berries and they're all strategically hung, wired, laid and placed. Let the festivities begin!
I thought I'd get the Momvan washed today. My MIL lives on a dirt road, so that Thanksgiving trip to Iowa left it extra-dirty. Then I remembered we're stuffing a tree into the back of the Momvan tonight. Probably best to wait until after that, no?
Smashed a bunch of my best gourds and pumpkins so I could harvest the seeds and dry them out for next spring's planting. I labeled each pile with really precise descriptions. "Small White Bumpy Gourd." "Orange Yellow Striped Gourd. Some Bumps." My favorite pumpkin, a gorgeous bumpy one with great color had a super-thick shell. I ended up banging it against the floor, muttering Give up your seeds, bitch. It took a lot of tries and coercing (cursing), but I finally cracked her open.
Mr. D let loose about 20 pheasants on our property last night. We'll see how they do. This is our 4th attempt at planting pheasants around here. One year we got so hopeful, a couple made it through the winter and had babies. Then they all disappeared. Eaten by foxes? Hit by cars? We'll never know. The first time we let pheasants go, one flew directly into the side of our neighbor's shed and killed itself. I swear, pheasants are about the dumbest birds ever (and that's saying something, because really? We're talking birds.) Within days we found 2 more dead in the road. Mind you, we live on 60 acres with a bit of development to the south and nothing but wetlands, woods and farm fields to the north for over a mile between us and the next intersection. Turkeys do really well out here, we have a huge flock thriving on the other side of the creek. Hopefully these pheasants are smarter than the last few batches, but I doubt it. I didn't take photos of the release because it was too dark.
Anyway, the master plan is for Mr. D and Team Testosterone to be able to hunt pheasants some day--they'll be that prolific around here. I despise pheasant. It's too gamey, a heavy tasting meat that grosses me out. I confess to not minding if the pheasants never get to huntable numbers around here, but it is cool to watch them fly up when you're walking around the field and prairie.
Still no sign of that cat.
Birdfeeders are full, but we haven't had any visitors yet.
Snow is in the forecast.