Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again, it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, who’s been so busy today that he can scarcely move. You may remember me from such entertaining and informative posts as “A Near Miss” and “A Partly Sad Story”, among others. The ones that are mostly about me are the best, but the guy I live with insists I talk about other things besides just me. I don’t know why, exactly. Here I am in a characteristic, and, I think you’ll agree, awfully cute pose, looking at the door to the cabinet holding all the biscuits.
A funny thing happened on our morning walk today. The water had stopped flowing in the canal. The water must have been shut off last night or early in the morning. As we walked by we could hear flopping noises, and so after we got home, the guy I live with went back to the canal, rescued a little bluegill which was floating sideways in very shallow water (that was the flopping noise) by moving it to deeper water, and then, of course, had to take some pictures.
He thought these would attract the great blue heron, but when we went on our afternoon walk the canal was flowing again.
In other news, the buffalo grass lawn in back is coming in nicely. The guy I live with was so impressed with The Dry Garden Handbook by Olivier Filippi that he wanted the author’s new book, Alternatives au gazon, which he had to order from France. You can see the gazon here, still a gazon but definitely alternatif, with sustainable lawnmower ready for duty. (Incidentally, the guy I live with says gazon is also a word in English, having to do turf on fortifications.)
Then there was the business with the Russian hawthorn, Crataegus ambigua. He wrote about this a while back, even mentioning the fact that we border collies like the haws, though eating them is hardly an “undignified” pastime.
The guy I live with took the saw and the Japanese branch hook to it, today, and this is what it looks like now. Speaking of things French, the guy I live with says the word “prune” comes to English from French, ultimately from the Latin meaning “to make round”, which, fortunately, he was not able to do.
He wondered out loud how a person could prune a tree whose basic nature was to grow in any growable direction, even down, if there’s room in the air. I would say that the air has plenty of room for letting the tree grow how it will, but didn’t say anything like that at the time. It’s a weird thing. It had all these branches sticking out every which way, too close to the ground, so he hacked them off. The rest of it he left as it is. What exactly could you do with a thing like this?
It even has stretch marks. How many trees have stretch marks?
So that was our day. I admit I didn’t help much with the pruning. I did guard the house, though, while he was working away. I especially made sure that the couch didn’t fly away for some reason. I mean, you never know.
I say goodbye, or adieu, for now, then.