wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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Three’s a Crowd, or is it?

I’m not so sure that three’s a crowd, but it is cozy.

The two rhodos that are blooming just now in this photo are “rescue rhodos.” My neighbour had planted them next to the roadway but they were constantly being uprooted by deer who pulled them out, thinking they would be tasty. The deer left the plants lying on the soft sandy soil when they discovered the flavour was not what they had hoped.

I picked up the uprooted rhodos as I came along the end of our drive and brought them to the neighbour’s house so they could replant them (hopefully elsewhere). But they just flung them aside.

So after trying three times to give the rhodos a new life, I took the next ones home and tried to revive them myself. I stuck them in water and then found a good spot for them, next to an Alberta spruce.

Now, something over 20 years later these tiny plants have turned into giants. They have grown into each other’s space and the two rhodos and the spruce are huddled together. They stand together against the wind and the rain and cold. They are the survivors.

The Survivor Group

 

We once were unloved castaways,

Our time was numbered then in days,

But now we live, and love the sun,

We each feel we’re the lucky one.

The spruce has been our constant friend,

He braces us against the wind,

He keeps the coldest ice from us,

And shields us both without a fuss,

In turn we share our food with him

And water if supply is slim.

We’re all survivors in this group,

Which makes us such a happy troop.

We like each other’s company,

For friends we three shall always be.

 

Please take a minute to visit my other blog for a comment on Jill Weatherholt’s book, A Father for Bella. Click on the link: https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/2019/05/27/a-father-for-bella/


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Soon, Soon, Soon

Soon my rhodos will bloom and put a smile on my face, like they did last May when I took this photo.

But right now, the poor thing is suffering from yet another load of snow.  I took the broom after I snapped a photo of the snow covering, and swept off some of the clumps of snow.

Speaking of sweeping off snow, early this morning the heat pump made feeble noises as it tried to come on. While I stood there in my housecoat, waiting for the dogs to do their morning ablutions and other things, I swept about six inches of snow off the top of the heat pump. The feebly struggling motor suddenly blasted into action and blew the last load of snow up the sleeve of my housecoat. OH! BRRRR!  NOW I WAS FULLY AWAKE!

The little Toyota truck, 25 years old now, is still going strong, but before its next trip we will need to do a “search and rescue” mission for it. I think it’s under there someplace. Good thing it’s bright red. Yes, I think I see it there.

More snow is on the way, but today is supposed to be the last day of it and then, if we aren’t completely snowed in, we can try to get back to normal.


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Three Strikes, You’re Out

About 20+ years ago one of my neighbours had planted several small rhodos outside his fence next to the road. On my way home from work, I noticed one of the small plants lying on the side of the road, where deer had pulled it out of the ground. The deer problem was bad around here. If you wanted to grow anything, you had to have a fence around it.

Since the frontage was out of the neighbours’ line of vision, and they might not know their pIant was uprooted, I stopped, picked up the rhodo, and brought it to their door.

“The deer must have pulled out your rhodo. Thought you might want to  replant it.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, those darned deer. Just set it over there,” the neighbour said, and pointed to a shady spot near the door.

A few days later, another of the rhodos was pulled out and the scenario was repeated (I stopped, delivered the poor plant so it could be saved).

This time I was met with a sigh as they took the plant from my hand.

The third time I passed by and saw a rhodo uprooted, I stopped and knocked on the door. The neighbour’s adult son answered.

“Sorry, but the deer keep pulling out your rhodos. They don’t seem to like eating them but they don’t know that until after they pull on the leaves and uproot the plant.” I handed over the foot-high shrub.

The son took the plant from me. “Thanks,” he muttered, and flung it into the shrubbery a few feet from the house.

I noticed that the two or three rhodos left on the neighbours’ frontage were drying up and dying. I had tried three times to save the ones that had been uprooted, but when I saw that they didn’t really care about them, I changed my attitude.

“Okay,” I thought. “Three strikes, and  you’re out.”

The fourth time I drove by and saw rhodos in trouble, there were two of them lying on the ground, several feet from where they had been planted, looking limp and near death’s door.

I took them home, stuck them in the ground, and gave them a drink of water.

Today, the neighbour has no rhodos on his frontage, but in the photo below, you can see the two I rescued. They have been happy for over 20 years.