In Our Wardrobe {No. 37}

This week’s Wardrobe!

I snapped these pics earlier this spring.

It’s hard to beat a comfy sweatshirt. I like the 3/4 sleeves on this one. My girlie-o layered it over a ruffled tunic she has.

It makes a cute look.

Paired with favorite jeans and ready for the day.

She also made the cuffs/fingerlessmitts from scraps of denim.

***I started this post earlier in the summer and then interrupted it with other wardrobe posts, so you can NOW finally read my skunk tale. And my other skunk tale. {See link below}

{This is just an interrupted post.}

In other news, my run-ins with Mr. Skunk continue. I don’t know if it is the same one or if we simply have a SKUNK abundance. One abundance that has never been on my hoped-for list! Ha! {since tale was interrupted, I interrupt this to tell you that we DO have a skunk abundance. Well sort of. We did. We’re depleting them. My farmer has shot or trapped at least six skunks. We won’t even mention the innumerable amount of raccoons or three possums he’s also trapped this summer.}

{read my walk-interrupted-by-a-skunk-tale over here.}

Back to this skunk tale…………

My son and I worked on scattering straw on our garden for mulch and defense against weeds that just HAVE to pop up as soon as you turn your back.

And let me insert, that I am thankful for a strong teenage son who did most of the work. Pretty sure it wouldn’t have happened had it all been up to me.

Straw on the garden. The project was begun. I walk out one evening and begin to fork some straw into the wheelbarrow. It’s peaceful by the garden. Shady and cool this time of evening. The trees sway with a bit of breeze. I watch the leaves dance and fork some more straw. I plunge the pitchfork into the round bale and out of the corner of my eye I glimpse something move. I can’t help myself. I jump back and give a stifled, but very girlie scream. A small garter snake is hanging out in my hay bale and I’ve disturbed his slumber. He wriggles and disappears. I’m not impressed. He’s still in there somewhere.

I haul my load and spread it out and gingerly make my way back towards the bale. I poke away at the other end and start to pile more straw into the wheelbarrow. I’m getting tired and I decide to go take a break and get a drink. When I reach the house, farmer man is there and I share about my slithery visitor. I drink some cold water and grab my gloves to head back out. The straw doesn’t seem disposed to spread itself.

About halfway back, I see black and white and a plumy tail.

It’s Mr. Skunk.

He’s decided to amble along the edge of the wheat field that sits just south of my garden. Really??? Snake and skunk. But on the plus side, the bugs haven’t attacked yet this time.

I turn quickly on my heel. My farmer man is still around and my farmer man owns a gun. I’m tired of Mr. Skunk.

I poke my head in the door and report that I am now besieged by a skunk. Mr. Farmer Man, he reacts and runs for his gun. He heads out one door and I another. I’m ahead and I can see that tail. I pause and wait. My farmer reaches the garden area. And just like when my vehicle acts up for me and purrs perfectly when Mr. Farmer Mechanic Man shows up, Mr. Skunk is gone. Vanished. Na-da.

Somehow he knows Farmer Man and his gun are on the prowl. Do you suppose it was Sammy Jay who told him? I wonder. I will scold Sammy thoroughly if I catch him nearby.

I’ve seen him a lot too, this summer. His bright coat brags beautiful as he perches on my clothesline pole. That blue won’t seem quite so pretty, though, if he is warning Mr. Skunk.

Farmer man leaves the gun on a nearby trailer and goes back to finish his tasks for the day. I laugh inside at the mental picture I make in my mind of my attempts with said gun should Mr. Skunk reemerge. I might do him in by causing him to laugh himself to death at my awful aiming.

I’m better with a pitchfork. I plod back over to the straw and spread some more. The evening air plays summer sounds around me and the gathering twilight settles around.

Still wary, my pitchfork slides into the straw and then, YES, again!! Small, slithery garter snake. Again I have to do a shrieky squeal. Poor garter guy. I bet he’s more scared than I. This time he wiggles out of the bale and away into the woods.

We both sigh loudly and are relieved to part company.

Wiggle far, far away, please little snake.

Let me work in peace and enjoy this shady spot of garden and lovely summer eve with no worries about crawly critters.

And take Mr. Skunk along, too!

Have a terrific weekend……………………free of critters…………..unless you love critters…………..and then you are welcome to my share of them!

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