HARVEST

 The plants seem to be enjoying our cooler and wetter weather of late.

The gourd vines are beginning to climb their stakes and heading for the arbor supports.

They're being guided by some string help from the Master Gardener.

(Hint: that's not me.)

Meanwhile, snuggled in with the gourds are some Summer Squash plants which suddenly have produced some beginners.

They're just babies yet but they're growing down there.

Meanwhile, across the yard at the tomato barrel, there's one peeking out that is just about ripe enough to be picked.

He'll probably leave the vine today and join a handful of others on the kitchen counter.

Ah summer produce, fresh from the garden.

Ain't it lovely?

A TALE

 Once upon a time there was a curious black cat.

He used to show up on our back wall from time to time.

While curious, he was also cautious.

"Let's see, I wonder if this is a safe place for me to take a little rest."

"It seems to me like I can smell a trace of other cats here before me.

It might not be prudent. I am not in the mood for a cat fight."

But comfort won out over caution and he stretched out for a bit.

But as he rose up after his period of relaxation, he spotted me, spotting him.

"Okay, human, are you going to chase me out of your yard? But he's inside, behind that window, I don't think he's much of a threat."

"I'll just use this old blue cat as a stepping stone to cross over and see if there's anything to eat outside their back door."

But the tale took a sudden turn when he got to just a few feet from the glass slider door and I loomed up on the other side of it.

I carefully slid the door open and called to him but he was already back across the yard and up on the wall.

When I inched outside intending to sit down in my chair and see if he'd come over to me, he took off the other way.

At the far end of the wall, he stopped and turned to look back to make sure I wasn't coming after him.

All right, black cat, I'll see you later.

"Not if I see you first, human."

DROP-INS

 Yesterday we had a young Mountain Jay in the birdbath.

Today it was a young Robin enjoying the waters.

He's nearly submerged in this photo as he dunks his face and his body in the cooling bath.

If I had only that photo it would be hard to identify him.

But there's another where he comes up for air.

Even as he wildly flaps his wings, you can see his red-breasted coloration.

And look who else showed up after a week-long absence.

Only a couple of days ago I had figured out that the lovable Matty's family had gone away for the week.

When that happens, Matty gets confined to his house, tended to by visits from a family friend, but kept inside.

When he was let out (finally, he intimated) he was quick to make a visit and let us know he was all right.

He didn't stay long.

As Judy pointed out, he seemed to be saying "I've got places to go and people to see."

AFTER THE DELUGE

 We finally got a fairly heavy rain here last night.

We were watching "The Queen" on Netflix and sometimes the crashing thunder echoed the drama on our t.v. screen.

We had opened the windows and when the movie was over and I came into my room to check my email, I found water all over my desk and keyboard.

As I was swabbing it all off Judy asked me if the keyboard was ruined.

I said "No, it was dirty and needed a washing!"

At any rate, after I got the water shaken and mopped off, it worked just fine and still is this morning.

I once had a friend who said when your keyboard gets dirty you can just run it through the dish washer.

I have yet to try that.

I just heard some squawking coming from the backyard and when I glanced up I saw this noisy guy on our birdbath.

Judging by his conduct and the amount of fluffy gray feathers I think he's a fledgling Mountain Jay.

But as has been noted by SWMBO and commenters here before, the Jays seem to know that birdbaths that match their coloration are safe harbors for them.

A couple of doves apparently have a nest under the eaves of an empty neighboring house.

They've been flying back and forth from it repeatedly this morning.

And as I was opening the blinds in the front room I saw a couple of finches playing tag out front.

It seems the birds appreciate the rainfall and cooler temperatures as much as we do.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 I must have risen from the Arms of Morpheus too early.

Or too late.

I dunno but I can't think of a thing to write.

So . . .

Awright, already.

That one has even me gritting my teeth.

So I'll just leave you with a heartfelt wish that you all have a super weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing! 🤣

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

MONSOON SEASON

 The rains have arrived.

So far we've avoided severe storms here but there have been some which have hit the area with high winds, heavy rain and hail causing some damage.

This was the sky toward the East yesterday evening.

It looked threatening and we did get lightning and thunder in the middle of the night but it appears this morning only a gentle rain.

We can't complain; it helps the plants grow and keeps our water bill down.

BRING ON THE HEAT

 As I have noted many times on this blog I was born and raised in northwestern North Dakota, about 50 miles south of Saskatchewan and around 90 miles east of Montana.

My father was a typical duke's mixture of someone whose family line went back in this country a few hundred years: English, Scotch, Irish, whatever.

My mother, however, was pure Norwegian.

Her grandparents both came over from Norway.

Since she did most of the cooking, our food tended to be rather bland.

Oh, it was good and we all loved her baking of breads, cookies, pies and cakes.

But our diet tended to be on the mild side.

And that was my taste for many years.

When I reached adulthood my idea of a great meal was a steak fried to medium well done, never any of that red showing, and a huge baked potato.

But since then I've lived over half of my life in Arizona, where Tex-Mex food predominates.

Excuse me, it's not true Mexican food, no matter what the hundreds of cafes advertise.

And I lived nearly five years in Mexico itself, where I found out the difference.

My wife makes a mean meat loaf but over the years she has expanded her expertise to master Oriental food and stir-fry meals.

And over the years my tongue has changed somewhat.

But now in our later years she's grown tired of cooking and, perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, she says her palate can no longer handle spicy food.

So if I want something "sparked up" a bit I have to do it myself.

Which led me to purchase a bottle of what passes itself off as Indonesian hot sauce.

I use it on scrambled eggs, only a teaspoon or so and with a glass of ice water close at hand.

The ingredients are listed as red jalapeno and habanero peppers, garlic, cane sugar and a few other things.

When Judy's son was out here a year ago he asked for some hot sauce on something we had served him and he tried this sauce.

He said it was sweet and later I could see what he meant.

I suppose the cane sugar gave the heat a sweet edge.

I should point out that he does most of his own cooking and he likes his food spicy HOT.

So there's your cooking tip for the day: Sambal hot sauce.

And remember the slogan printed on the bottle's label: "Pain is Good!"

HIPPITY-HOP

 Here's something you don't see every day.

Well, if you don't live in Arizona.

I suppose locals who (foolishly) go out for hikes in our 100 degree heat on a daily basis probably see plenty of them.

I, suffice it to say, am not one of them.

Now Judy, aka SWMBO, claims to have seen one of these critters in our yard before but I believe it's a new sighting for me.

So don't allow me to leave you in suspense for another second.

It's the Wily Roadrunner, paying a quick visit.

He came hopping through the yard, then leaped to the top of the fence, where I managed one quick shot (photograph) before he leaped down into my neighbor's yard and was gone.

Without resorting to all those trite and untrue witticisms about the worthless coyotes and Acme products I will only say that these rascals move fast and an amateur photographer has to be very lucky to get a frame to brag about.

Beep-Beep.

WEEKEND HEAT

 

Apropos of nothing . . .

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 I'm cheating.

I'm actually putting this together on Thursday night.

But it's because I'm still revved up over the Phoenix Suns victory in the second game of the NBA Finals.

For those of you that don't understand or don't care, that's American basketball.

And this is the end-all of the season.

Whoever wins 4 out of 7 games wins the title of National Champions.

For one year.

And Phoenix has won the first two games.

It's a really big deal.

But not quite as big a deal as these moments of risibility (a word I just learned this week. Look it up if you don't know it.)

Y'know what?

I think that's enough.

If you aren't holding your tummies in glee by now . . . you're probably groaning in agony.

So let me wish you an angst-free weekend full of glorious ecstasy.

And don't ever forget: keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

EVOLUTION

 

Hippie Catalyst - 1971

Crazy Grand-Pa Catalyst - 2021

What a difference 50 years can make.

TOMATO, TAMAHTOE

 Scanning some of my blog colleagues work today I decided it was time for a little update on our gardening efforts.

So we examine the back patio tomato barrel.

It's looking a bit sun-withered but what are you going to do?

We live in Arizona, which is a notably sunny place, and our rainfall this year so far is even below normal.

But the hose is there and there are signs that something is working.

There are two different plants in there this year and these are products of an alleged Cherry Tomato plant.

Getting down and peering into the interior we can see signs of progress on the other plant too, which promises larger tomatoes.

So we keep on with judicious watering and waiting to see what will develop.

As the Guy Clark song says, there ain't nuthin' in the world like Home Grown Tomatoes.

ELEMENTARY, WATSON

 Get the bird books!

We've got a new species!

It resembles the Cowbirds that frequent our back yard but this one appears to have a blindingly white beak.

I've never seen one like that so it must be something new.

Let's blow this photo up a bit and get a better look.

About that time SWMBO, watching from the other room, said "It doesn't have a white beak, it's carrying something around in its mouth."

She said she'd been observing it and watched it even wash the object off in the lower water container before hopping around the yard with it.

I hate it when she's right so quickly but at least she *couldn't* identify what it was carrying.

The Cowbirds (if that's what they are) are a delight to watch as they usually fly up to the wall and strut along it's length.

FUTURE AND PAST

 I know I'm growing old.

After all, I was born in 1940.

But apparently that word has gotten out.

I received what I would call a "spam" email this morning from an entity inviting me to take a virtual tour of what they call "11 Beautiful Cemeteries" around the world.

Now I have no fear of my onrushing demise but I'm not encouraging it either.

So I declined the invitation to visit famous resting places.

I have been to the gravesites of my parents and my grandparents and I have seen a photograph of my great-grandparents tombstone.

But there's one place I probably will never visit but would like to.

It's now called the Taylor-Bray Farm and it's on the original site in what is now Yarmouth Port, Massachusetts where my 7th great-grandfather, Richard Taylor, settled after arriving from England in 1639.

He built his home near a large rock and became known as Richard "Rock" Taylor to distinguish himself from another Richard Taylor who had come over the pond at the same time.

The farm stayed in the Taylor family until the late 1800's when it was sold to George and William Bray, who farmed there for another 50 years.

They had a stone plaque installed commemorating the first Taylor's founding of the site.

I know, I can't read much of it either.

Now, in the way of the Bible, Richard begat Richard Jr, who begat Jasher, who begat Isaac, who begat Stephen, who begat Ansel, who begat Emmons, who begat Berthold, who begat Franklin, who was my father.

Of course there were many other children "begatted" through the centuries.

I remember once coming into a genealogy of our family and was being pretty impressed with myself until I read that Taylor was about the sixth most common name in the country.

But back to the Taylor-Bray Farm.

It's a National Historic Site now and a preservation website claims it was inhabited by Native Americans for some 10,000 years!

So there's a lot of history there.

But I bet Richard "Rock" Taylor would never have imagined that a very distant relative of his would someday make his living for a time as a "rock and roll" disc jockey.

SATURDAY PROJECT

 Banana Bread (with Walnuts and Coconut).

First cut.

Delish!

The coconut gives it an added kick.

(Mark Bittman's recipe)