More Foliage!

Southwest Ohio is naturally a woodland. Suburbia fights this for what I gather are a few reasons: 1) Trees make mowing more difficult, 2) Tall canopy trees don’t make much in the way of pretty flowers, 3) Homeowners are paranoid about falling branches, 4) Trees interfere with utilities, 5) Trees create yard waste. 6) Trees shade out grass. Etc., etc….

But they’re a natural aesthetic and blocker of the merciless summertime UV death rays! So I will continue working with nature for the perks, instead of focusing on the negatives. I also want to expand the hosta patch, and that requires more shade. So I present to you, the Japanese maple:

Okay, maybe it’s not a true native, but neither are the honeysuckle. It’ll work. I speak for the trees, dammit!

–Simon

Yew the Day: A Cutaneous Curiosity

Warning: Gore


Nothing drives home the fragility of the human body like a life-changing injury. Or from witnessing one. My old butcher shop job drove this point home with exceptional gravity, as all the equipment was specially designed to dismember and dissect mammalian bone and flesh. The band saw in particular terrified me. Half a second to cut through a cow femur. I remained on guard with that doomsday device. A coworker – not so much. His mishap involved reconstructive surgery.

The meat slicer was also a cruel machine. I never caught a finger on it while in operation, but dismantling it for cleaning was a constant potential for injury. Pulling a large circular blade out of a recessed mount was an awkward maneuver. The clumsy shape would have made the action difficult even if it wasn’t sharp – which it was. Very. I suffered many a nick. But ultimately it was freehanding a knife that finally did me in. A slip on lamb fat severed my fingertip. Nothing like getting that stitched back on without anesthetic, because injecting the wound site would have swollen it beyond stitchability.

Between that, a couple swordfighting mishaps, and a couple home knife-cleaning sessions; I’m no stranger to lacerations and sutures. It comes with the territory of my hobbies. However, these were all due to manual tools, not mechanical. My healthy fear has so far kept me from horrific injury.

But these lessons are learned. My daughter had not yet learned them. Until The Day of the Hedge Trimmer.

Warning: Gore


I was mowing. Liz was trimming the yew bush hedgerow at the front of the house. She enlisted the kid.

Oblivious to all this, I noticed The Coffee Bean making a hasty exodus. Then I received an explanation via this image:

Further assessment in the hospital revealed the extent of the injury: the hedge trimmer had sliced through skin, fat, and muscle. Threads of elastin hung from the wound:

If any of my own wounds had been that deep, I would not have been fully aware of it as mine were clean knife incisions. The hedge trimmer, however, was less surgical with its damage, leaving more of a gash than a cut.

Fortunately, no tendons or bones were damaged. She’s incredibly lucky, as this could have easily resulted in permanent loss of mobility. The attending nurse’s expertise was also encouraging, as she took a mangled scrap of human flesh and Frankensteined it back into a recognizable hand.

The kid’s lingering surrealism from the experience will hopefully remain as a lasting memory and cautionary tale. Pay attention, and use gloves. Man has built destructive machines, and they’re equally destructive to ourselves.

She’s since pointed out that we could all easily die at any moment from a multitude of body system failures. I think the lesson hit home. I didn’t even have to yell.

–Simon

Nature will Try to Kill You, or Sometimes Just Want Fed

Of course, sometimes it will try to kill you because it wants food. Other times, however, it will ask nicely.

Take a gander

Such was the case when, doing some gardening, I was approached by a trio of ducks who then sat down and stared at me expectantly. But as I don’t normally walk around with duck chow in my pocket, I had to disappoint. Sensing a lack of forthcoming food, they wandered off.

But then they found my sump drainage line. More a retaining pool than anything, it had remained full with the amount of recent rain. And conveniently located next to that is the bird feeder, which always has seed beneath it, dropped by their messier cousins.

Satiated, they bed down for an afternoon nap.

We now have a flock of neighborhood ducks who, after being fed, decided this was a good neighborhood to live in. This is now The Year of the Duck.

Conversely, it’s also The Year of the Bees. I haven’t been stung in years, but a honey bee must have got itself stuck in my boot. Here’s the part where nature will also try to kill you.

Beware nature.

–Simon

New Blue Broken In

My first new new car is, according the owner’s manual, officially broken in now!

New Blue in the cold winter days when I got her.

And not just the inevitable dings and scratches that seem to magically appear on a new car. No, I babied this thing, providing it a variety of speeds and RPMs, always staying within the recommendations except for a couple highway merging episodes where an old geezer chose potential death by truck collision rather than find the accelerator.

Ah, 1000 miles exactly.

Maybe I’ll celebrate by engaging its sport mode and flooring it.

Okay, no I probably won’t do that. But I could. And that alone feels fantastic. May she survive the kid’s driving lessons.

–Simon

A Couple Garden Photos

Just that – some photos:

A purdy clematis on the back trellis.
That stupid mulberry the neighbor wouldn’t cut down before his wife kicked him out is fruiting now. Bird crap inbound.
Followed by Zone Rouge, 2025 edition.

–Simon