Drop-Free Zone

After minor flooding and almost daily rain in May and June, we have had no rain at all in July.  Here we are at the last day of the month, and so far not a drop.

Needless to say, our yard is suffering for it.  Trees and bushes are dropping leaves, and it looks like we may have lost several Azaleas that have been here for years.

We almost got rain yesterday, and in a way, that’s worse.  There were thunderstorms all around us, close enough to hear. The wind even picked up for a while, but the showers bypassed us, one moving just north of us and another to our south.

There is a chance of rain today, but the 40% probability they forecast yesterday has already dropped to 20%.  I’m not holding out much hope.

Je Suis - Never Mind

Political cartoonist Tom Toles recently published a cartoon in such poor taste it should have appeared in that French rag, Charlie. 

Instead it appeared in his flagship newspaper, the Washington Post, and lots of other papers including the Houston Chronicle.

To make matters worse, it was published on the day of Miss Bland’s funeral.

Nobody broke in and shot up the Post, but a small group – about a half dozen protesters - led by local black activist, Quanell X, did march in front of the Chronicle the following Tuesday.

Ten Day

Today is the first day that you can download and install the new Windows 10 operating system on your computer.  It is a free upgrade for all computers running Windows 7 or anything that came later.

I’m not sure if (or when) I’m going to do that.  In spite of glowing reviews on the PC websites, caution would advise to wait a little while and see what bugs show up in the first few weeks.

Honey’s computer came with Windows 7, and she had a little icon show up that allowed her to get in line to receive Windows 10.  My computer had Windows 7 installed after it crashed a while back, and although I do get Windows updates, I never got the little icon.

If you are like me, you can still get the free upgrade.  You can find details and instructions HERE.

Mr. Weed Eater

As I was trimming around trees, sidewalks and mail boxes yesterday, I thought of the first time I ever saw a Weed Eater. 

It was the early 1970s, and I had recently gone to work for 3M Company as a copier service man.  After a service meeting at our office in far Southwest Houston, the dispatcher gave me a call in Greenway Plaza on my way back to my territory Northeast of town. 

I was in the elevator, headed back to my car for a part, when I met a man carrying a strange looking device.

It was a local dance studio owner named George Ballas, who invented the contraption, and he had brought his prototype to Greenway in search of investors. 

Although he had to know that I was in no position to help him, he happily demonstrated his invention to me on the lawn at the edge of the parking lot – maybe because I was the first person at Greenway Plaza that day to show any interest. I, for one, was sold.  I would have invested in his scheme immediately if I’d had two nickels to rub together.

He did scrape up enough money to get the company off the ground, and eventually sold it to Emerson Electric.  Emerson/Poulan took his idea and made Weed Eater a world wide household name.

FYI – in fact checking for this piece, I learned that the Ballas family kept dancing.  George’s son Corky was an international ballroom dancing champion, and his grandson Mark is a dancer/choreographer on Dancing With the Stars.

Monday

It’s 80° at 6:00 a.m. and I’ve got almost a full day’s worth of weed eating to do.

  Oh Boyeeeee!

Biggio

Today Craig Biggio becomes the first Houston Astro to be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.  There have been other Hall of Famers who spent time on an Astros roster (including fellow inductee Randy Johnson) but Craig, who spent his entire career with Houston, is the first to enter wearing an Astros jersey.

A native of Kings Park on New York's Long Island, Biggio was a football star in high school poised to make his mark as a running back in college when he decided to accept a partial baseball scholarship at Seton Hall. In three collegiate seasons, he batted .342, hit 27 homers, drove in 148 runs, stole 90 bases and led the Pirates to their first Big East title.

A first-round pick by the Astros in 1987, Biggio played just 141 minor league games over parts of two seasons before getting called up. He took over as Houston's regular catcher in 1989. He converted to 2nd base in 1992, and is the only player in history to make the all star team at both positions.

In addition to four Gold Gloves and five Silver Slugger awards, Biggio received the Roberto Clemente Award (for community service) in 2007.  His work with the Sunshine Kids charity is almost legendary in Houston.

His official stats list him as 5’ 11” but that may be an exaggeration – he never looked that tall.  Yogi Berra mentioned Biggio's height in his book You Can Observe A Lot By Watching, saying, "I always identified with short catchers – they don't have to stand up as far".

Every team has its home town heroes, but I doubt that any are loved and admired  more than Craig Biggio.  Today’s entry into the Hall of Fame is well deserved.

Prints

After a very wet May and June, it’s been bone dry at the old Boggy Thicket for the past several weeks, so I was surprised yesterday to find muddy footprints all over the top of the gas grill.

 

There was also mud in the dogs’ water bowl, so it didn’t take a Daniel Boone or Sherlock Holmes to recreate what had happened.  A pretty big coon – the prints were almost two inches across – had washed a meal in the dogs’ bowl then jumped up on the grill to enjoy his lunch.

Hacked

This morning, I awoke to find this email (slightly edited) from my bank:

 

Chase
Account Ending: XXXX

Robert A Couch,
Please tell us if you, or someone you authorized, used your Chase card for:

MBI-PROBILLER.COM/RK
$2.00
Approved
July 24

MBI-PROBILLER.COM/RK
$2.00
Declined
July 24

MBI-PROBILLER.COM/RK
$2.00
Approved
July 24

Do you recognize each transaction listed above?

If you need to speak with us, call the number on the back of your card.

Sincerely,
Chase Fraud Protection Services

I would never have noticed this two dollar charge, and even if I had, I probably would have assumed it was a “handling fee” for an Amazon purchase that required updating my credit card information the day before.  The lady at Chase security tells me that the charge came from an offshore hacker that is adding small charges whenever customers buy anything on line with their credit card.

My card has been cancelled, and they will be sending me a new one with a new number.  Meanwhile, if you use your credit card for on line purchases, you should probably check the charges on your account.

Poem

Catch 22-AAA

We have State Farm insurance. 

We’ve had them for auto insurance for over fifty years, and they are also our insurance carrier for our house and our 5th wheel trailer.  We have had the same agent for a quarter century, and have no complaints other than cost.

With renewals coming up, we decided to do some shopping.  I tried doing that several years ago and was told that due to our long association with State Farm, other companies would not be able to match our premium. 

This time, we contacted AAA, and the difference was shocking.  Our State Farm coverage is three separate policies – AAA would package the truck and trailer and give us the same or better coverage on them and the house with a total annual savings of about $2000!

Loyalty in one thing, but  $2,000?  That’s a no-brainer.  We were all ready to change carriers when we hit a snag.

We had no claims on our truck or house, but we have had two claims on the trailer in the last five years.  One back in 2012 was covered under the comprehensive, but the other (in 2014) got paid under the collision portion of the policy.  It should not have been.  The damage was caused by a falling limb poking a hole in the trailer roof, but the repair shop and State Farm decided that it looked like we had driven under an overhanging limb.  The AAA rep put is on a conference call with State Farm, but they refused to change the designation.

The result of this was that we can’t change carriers now. 

AAA will not write a new policy on the trailer, and they won’t write a policy on the truck  by itself.  To make matters worse, they only write home owner’s insurance for people who have auto coverage through AAA.

I’m frustrated, but there’s nothing we can do at this point but wait.  Assuming there are no more claims, we can change to AAA next February, and I’m pretty sure we will.

All Gone

From the late 1960s to early 70s, the average price of a gallon of gasoline in the US was 33₵, but in Houston, Diamond Shamrock sold regular for 29.9 or less, and they gave you a free drinking glass with every fill up.

While they were being offered, we actually collected enough of those glasses to host a fairly large dinner party. The glasses came in various sizes and shapes, and the type of glass being offered changed from week to week, so there were times when I “station shopped” to get the particular style of glass I wanted.

Glass breaks - and over the years our collection went from several dozen down to one – an Old Fashion glass like the one above.  That glass has sat on the counter by the bathroom sink for years, and I used it to take my pills every morning and to stash my dentures every night.  It was the perfect size and shape – I loved that glass.

Glass breaks – and last week I dropped it into the sink where it shattered.  It isn’t irreplaceable.  I suppose there are plenty of other glasses that would work just as well, but the ones I’ve tried so far just don’t feel the same. 

I’m really going to miss that glass.

I Scream Day

Yesterday was National Ice Cream Day, but nobody was celebrating here.  We’ll hold our celebration the day Blue Bell is back.

Driving Miss Daisy

The stage play version of 1989’s Best Picture Oscar winner, Driving Miss Daisy  was on television last week.  We recorded it, and watched it last night.

The show, part of the PBS Great Performances series, was recorded live at the Comedy Theatre in Melbourne, Australia.  It featured some of the best actors on earth, Angela Lansbury and James Earl Jones, in roles that earned their movie counterparts an Academy award (Best Actress - Jessica Tandy) and an Oscar nomination (Best Actor – Morgan Freeman) so we were a little concerned about whether they could carry it off.  And - whether our comparisons of their work would keep us from getting into the story.

We shouldn’t have worried – the play was excellent.  Performed on an almost bare stage with only a half dozen pieces of furniture as props, it underscored the differences between theater and film.  Discussing it afterwards, I told Honey that it made me wish that I had seen the play first.

If you missed it, there’s still a chance to see it.  While fact-checking for this post I found the entire play on line HERE.

5th Vital Sign

According to the Canadian Hemophilia Society, there is a  fifth vital sign that should be measured regularly - Pain.  They list:

• Pulse
• Blood Pressure
• Temperature
• Respiratory Rate
• Pain

If that is true, I am more alive than usual this morning.  I woke up stiff and sore all over. 

Hidden Valley

Saw an ad on TV last week for Hidden Valley’s new Cucumber Ranch Dressing, so I added it to the shopping list.  When I went to the store, I discovered that they have two new flavors, Cucumber and Avocado, so I bought both.

Last night, Honey and I conducted a “scientific” taste test to determine which was best.  They are both great, by the way – if you like ranch dressing, you’re sure to love them both. The test involved putting the new flavors in a pair of salsa bowls and dipping fresh romaine in each, alternating between the two. 

I’m pleased to announce that the “official” results are in, and that Honey and I both agreed.  The one we like the best is whichever one we tasted last.

Thought for Thursday

Something I recently read and like a lot:

Those who argue about whether the glass is half full or half empty miss the point.

It’s a glass.

It’s refillable.

Busy Day

Exciting is probably not the word to use, but we did have a very satisfying and productive day yesterday.

It started slow.  Honey only walked 3.5 miles instead of her usual five, then nothing much happened until lunch.

After lunch, we headed to the dentist where Honey had a scheduled cleaning, then on to Deerbrook Mall to pick up my new glasses.

Immediately below the LensCrafters shop in the mall is a Barnes & Noble bookstore.  We spent a half hour or so browsing, and picked up about 12 pounds of books from the bargain bins. 

Go Set A Watchman went on sale yesterday and B&N had tons of copies in several locations, already marked 30% off.  I was going to buy it, but based on the scuttlebutt on the internet, Honey nixed the deal.  She said Atticus Finch has always been one of her heroes, and she did not want to think of him as anything but perfect.  I suspect that there a a lot of readers out there thinking that way.

After the mall, we headed back across Lake Houston and stopped for dinner at Marsala’s in Huffman.  It’s hard to believe, but our little town actually has an excellent Italian restaurant.  This was our second visit since they opened, and the food and service were superb both times.

Got home in time for the Double Jeopardy half of the show, then relaxed and spent a quiet evening at home.  Like I said, maybe not exactly exciting, but a very good day.

Where I Stand

An old friend posted a political quiz on Facebook this morning – Quiz – and while I think most things of this sort are pretty useless, this one is surprisingly accurate.

The web page has a lengthy explanation of their terms, which I won’t repeat here, but you should read carefully to understand.  Using their definitions, they chart your political leanings on a graph like this:

The test offers a series of 36 statements to which you are asked to agree or disagree.  Based upon your reactions, it will generate the chart.

If you think about it too hard, many of the statements will have no correct response – for example, “A strong military is a better foreign policy tool than a strong diplomacy.” – so don’t analyze, just go with your first reaction.

My results  were:

On the horizontal axis, this puts me exactly halfway (50%) between dead center and far right, which is about where I would have put myself.  The vertical puts me just below (8%) the center line.  I would have expected to be right on, or slightly (no more than 10%) above it, but based on their definitions, it’s probably correct.

L – E - P

A recently released report says that half of the immigrants in the US suffer from LEP – Limited English Proficiency.

Really?

What gave you your first clue, and how did this become news today?

The Migration Policy Institute says that 20.4 million immigrants, about 8% of our population, speak no English or speak it “less than very well.”  The percentage is 19% in California and 14% in Texas.

The LEP population is most likely to speak Spanish. “Spanish was the predominant language spoken by both immigrant and U.S.-born LEP individuals. About 64 percent (16.2 million) of the total LEP population spoke Spanish, followed by Chinese (1.6 million, or 6 percent), Vietnamese (847,000, 3 percent), Korean (599,000, 2 percent), and Tagalog (509,000, 2 percent). Close to 80 percent of the LEP population spoke one of these five languages.”

PBX

Last week, I posted Alan Sherman’s song Harvey and Sheila.  In the song, Sherman says that Sheila “runs the PBX, and makes out the checks.”  That got me to wondering just how many people alive today even know what a PBX is.

Also known as a switchboard, a PBX – Private Branch Exchange – is how telephone calls were routed at the time Sherman wrote the song.

In very large companies, multiple operators manned stations like the one above, while in smaller companies, the PBX operator often doubled as the receptionist. In the 1950s, back when Allen Parkway was still known as Buffalo Drive, my mother worked as a switchboard operator/receptionist for Gulf Publishing Company. 

Change was gradual, but at some point in the 80s, digital phones and electronic switching made the old switchboards obsolete, and it was hard to find a PBX anywhere outside of a museum.

Self Medicating

Went to bed early last night, then woke up at midnight so stiff and sore I could hardly stumble into the bathroom. 

Since yesterday's news had warnings about the dangers of taking Advil, I opted to take another anti-inflammatory we had on hand, a prescription drug left over from my last round of gout. 

It had worked fine for this before, but I woke about 1:30 with both of my hands on fire.  They were a little bit pink, and only slightly swollen, but felt like they were in a mound of fire ants. 

I finally woke Honey up about 2:15.  By then the symptoms had spread to my feet.  She sprayed the affected areas with Bactine, which brought some partial but immediate relief, and had me take some Benedryl capsules.

I finally got back to sleep about 3:30.

I’m not sure the pill I took caused the reaction.  They’ve never bothered me before, but I’m not ready to try them again to find out.

POETS

When I was leaving the Army in 1968, I was urged by some friends to move to Corpus Christi.  We had worked together at KQUE-fm in Houston, and while I was in the service they had bought KTOD in Corpus Christi.  They brought me in as their program director.

Shortly after I came on board, we hired a lady to sell advertising on the station.  She was from a prominent local family, didn’t need the money, but thought selling air time would be fun.  In her interview she warned us that that she would never be available after noon on Fridays because she had POETS on Friday afternoons.  In light of her other social connections – she was on the boards of several local charities – we thought this might be more of a plus than a minus, so we assured her that it would be fine.

Things went well, and she did bring in some business.  Then one Friday afternoon, Jack Schmitt (one of the owners) and I happened to spot her in a hotel bar.  By all evidence, she was well into her second (or maybe third) margarita and was feeling no pain.  We asked her about her Poet’s Club meeting, and she began to laugh.

“Poets isn’t a club.” she said, “It’s an acronym.” 

“It stands for Piss On Everybody, Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

One of Those Days

That pretty much describes the way my day is going so far.

After finally getting the  mower deck rebuilt and working, I mowed the yard back on June 25th.  Then it rained, and rained some more.  It finally dried out enough that I was able to start mowing this morning.

I was making good progress, maybe a quarter of the way through, when the mower engine started blowing black smoke.  I’m hoping it is just a blown valve cover gasket, but right now the engine is to hot to work on.

Glasses

Honey and I had appointments at the optometrist yesterday. 

Not the ophthalmologist who has been treating my eyelids; these were annual appointments scheduled long before I had a problem.  My eyelid problem is under control, by the way – no longer an issue.

Both of our prescriptions had changed slightly in the past year.  In fact, each of us had one eye that actually improved a bit.

Last year, we tried to save money by getting  glasses at Wal-Mart.  They had good prices and excellent Nikon lenses, but Honey had such a problem getting glasses that actually fit – the first ones they sold her were the wrong size for her face – that we decided to go back to Eye Masters for our new glasses.

They’ve had a couple of changes there in the past two years – both for the better: 

First, Honey had never really been able to see how new frames looked on her face.  Now, they use a tablet to take a picture so you can use your old glasses to see how your new ones look.

Second, they put your frames in what looks like a medieval torture device, then use that to take measurements electronically.  That makes lens positioning much more accurate.

Honey, who usually has to wait while her lenses are ordered, walked out with her new glasses yesterday.  This time I am the one who has to wait.  They had the correct lens for one eye, but the lens for the other was out of stock.

Harvey and Sheila

Not sure what brought it up, but Honey and I were reminiscing about Alan Sherman last night.  For those too young to remember, Sherman, who died in 1973, was the Weird Al Yankovic of his generation.

Probably his most successful song was “Hello, Mudda” about a kid away at summer camp for the first time, but my personal favorite was always this one:

Note – Due to a licensing issue, the song may not open immediately.  Just click the notice that comes up to watch it on YouTube.

Throgmorton

We recently added a new member to the Addicted to Limericks group on Facebook.  Her name – or at least her nom de plume - is RoZita Berry, and she is very talented with a wicked sense of humor.

Here is a non-Limerick poem she posted this past weekend:

The Ballad of Mr. Throgmorton

Mr. Throgmorton was a mean old man
who lived at the end of my street
he hated flowers and butterflies and birds
and anything pretty or sweet.

Carolers he would kick off his front stoop:
"Stop making that infernal racket!"
At Halloween we kids would t.p. his yard
and throw eggs at his window to crack it.

Mrs. Delaney, his neighbor next door,
took pity upon this old fart
She was certain that some fine day
she could soften his stony old heart.

One spring day to the hospital he went
for to cure his sleeping apnea
Mrs. Delaney looked at his bare front yard
saying, "I've a wonderful idea!"

And she transplanted flowers from her own garden
into old Throgmorton's lawn
and soon, lo, the other neighbors joined with her
a strange sight to look upon!

And when he came home, she awaited him there
with cookies and pastries and pies
and lilies and tulips, petunias and pansies
drawing birds, bees and butterflies!

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared
as he nearly fell down on his kiester
"What's all this crap? Does this yard of mine
look like some kinda basket for Easter?"

And taking his cane, he thrashed all around
and smashed every pie and cake
then thwapped at each sapling, flower and bush
Mrs. D. realized her mistake!

A week or so later, I rode by on my bike
and noticed a wondrous smell;
it came from Mr. Throgmorton's back yard
something cooking, far as I could tell.

The fence 'round the backyard was too high for me
so I climbed up into a tree
and saw him down there at an outdoor grill
and I couldn't believe it was he!

He was stirring at something in a big pot
over a low-burning flame
and it smelled delicious, I had to admit
and my hunger I couldn't quite tame.

Then all of a sudden he looked up
and caught sight of me up on that limb;
"Hey boy! Come down and have supper with me!"
he exclaimed...this couldn't be him!

Yet there he was smiling, this crazy old man
who'd so trashed his welcome-home party;
Inviting me now to dinner with him
and grinning so friendly and hearty?

Well, I told myself to get out of there quick
what if he was some kind of perv?
But my stomach growled like an angry pit bull
as I tried to work up my nerve.

Then suddenly the branch on which I was crouched
gave way beneath all my weight
and first thing you know there I was in his yard
I didn't even have to use the gate!

And first thing you know I was seated right there
at his back yard picnic table
Where he'd placed a big wooden bowl before me
which he filled with a large wooden ladle.

It was some sort of stew, beef I supposed
with onions, potatoes and rice
and peppers and carrots, okra and corn
hot and spicy--it sure tasted nice!

"I'm sorry for all the bad things I did,"
I said as I glanced at the pot.
"Boys will be boys," he replied with a grin,
"I was one once, believe it or not."

I wondered what brought about his change of heart
and thought, "Maybe miracles are true!"
as he brought out a fine-looking loaf of white bread
and dished me up some more stew.

Then he broke out a lovely big chocolate cake
with white icing with butterfly design.
"I baked this myself!" he beamed as he cut it
and a shiver ran over my spine.

"Mrs. Delaney didn't make it?" I said,
and sadly he shook his head;
"She's moved away, lad, I fear; I've not seen her
for many a morning," he said.

Weeks went by with no sign of her
which I thought was a terrible shame.
Some spoke of foul play, but I doubted that;
who'd waste such a nice old dame?

Yet her whereabouts are a mystery still
no one seems to know what to do;
and I think of her often, but wonder also
what sort of meat *was* in that stew?

Speaking of Gators

When I was a kid, several years before we moved to Liverpool, our family had a weekend place on Chocolate Bayou.  Our good friends, the Jahnke family, also had a place there, and Val, Donnie, my sister Karen and I were on or in the water constantly.

While I never personally saw an alligator in Chocolate Bayou, there were always rumors, and it looked like ideal gator habitat.

Asked about letting her sons swim there, Martha Jahnke, who had grown up in Florida, said that she preferred swimming in waters where she knew there were gators – because she didn’t have to worry about snakes.

Gator Bait

That’s New Caney wrecker driver “Slinky” Knox helping Montgomery County constables remove an eight foot gator from the San Jacinto River bridge on Hwy 242.  The picture came from one of a dozen or more stories about alligators in the area this summer.  Just last week, a teenager was attacked by a gator while swimming in a park in Chambers County, and his dad was bitten by the same gator when he jumped in to save him.  Both are still in the hospital.

You would think that the word would have gotten around, but in spite of  signs posted at Burkhart’s Marina in Orange,

 a guy named Tommie Woodward jumped in the water about two a.m. on Friday morning – right into the jaws of a 12-foot gator.  News stories don’t say so specifically, but given the time, and testimony that he jumped into the water in spite of the signs and being verbally urged not to, alcohol was probably involved. 

Not to speak ill of the dead, but a look at his picture makes me think that Darwin’s Law was also a factor.

 He did achieve a certain level of fame, becoming the first alligator attack fatality in Texas in over two hundred years.

Eyes Part Two

My eye is continuing to improve – not quite back to normal, but getting there.

I did encounter one problem, and it has me seeing red.

The doctor had given me a prescription for eye drops that contain both an antibiotic and a steroid.  When I called the pharmacy to see if they were ready, I was told that Medicare would not cover them and the out-of-pocket cost if I chose to buy them anyway would be $440!

I called the Doctor’s office and they prescribed an alternative – another brand of eye drop that also contained an antibiotic and a steroid – that I was able to get for $38.

We pay what seems to be an enormous amount for our Medicare Part D coverage, so I’m more than a little ticked off that they wouldn’t cover what the doctor prescribed.  And, I guess that I’m a little disappointed in the doctor for not knowing or caring what Medicare will cover.

That is not what really put me over the edge.

While on line looking for possible alternatives, I learned that the same $440 drops Medicare wouldn’t cover, probably in the same package, were available from a veterinary supply house for $18.89!

Eye, Eye, Eye!

 

Last week I got something in my right eye. 

It hurt like blue blazes, it just wouldn’t quit, and it caused tears by the gallon to pour down my face.  After carefully cleaning the eye, we finally put a patch over it and taped it shut for the rest of the day.  When I removed the patch about eight hours later, it felt OK – I thought everything was fine.

Then, the day before yesterday, it came back. 

I was able to get an emergency appointment with an ophthalmologist yesterday afternoon.  He told me I was suffering from meibomian gland blepharitis.  That’s a multisyllabic Latin term designed to make the doctor sound smarter than the patient.  It describes a symptom, not a disease.  Basically it just means that the oil glands in your eyelashes aren’t working quite right, and you’re building up a lot of crud on  your eyelids.

The most common causes are contaminated eye makeup (don’t use any) and dirty contact lenses (don’t wear them) but in my case the doctor said my problem was due to allergies.

He prescribed some eye drops that contain a steroid, and a foam to use to scrub the excess crap from my eyelids.  The drops helped almost immediately.  I’m not back to normal, but it’s a lot better.

Oh Deer

When we first moved here, the Boggy Thicket was surrounded by woods that extended for several miles in all directions.  Some of that land has been converted into subdivisions, but a lot of it is still untouched, so you might think that we would see a lot of deer.

We don’t.

We have seen quite a few over the years, but not nearly as often as you might expect, so it has been a pleasant surprise to see them this summer. 

Actually, I think we are only seeing the same one, a doe, several times a week. 

She crosses the road just north of us and travels through the Graff’s front yard to the pond in their back yard.  From there, she cuts across our woods and crosses the road to Ray Winkler's place, where she disappears.  Ray’s place used to be a nursery, but much of it has reverted to nature.  It’s covered with willow trees and undergrowth so thick that the doe could be invisible three feet inside the fence.

I don’t know where she’s coming from, or where she is headed, but the thing that really intrigues me is how she gets back.  Since spring, we have seen her make that trip two or three times a week, but we have only seen her headed south.