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#1
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Camp-out in the Garden
We've a pal visiting from Idaho and though we have a spare futon and
plenty of room in the house, she suddenly insisted on camping out in the garden cuz she thought it was like a tiny park. It was fun and funny to see her little puptent and bedding out there. She said the birds weren't afraid of her and gathered around her at dawn. Now my sweety Granny Artemis is saying we should sleep out there too. No! Don't make me! I like my bed! -paghat the ratgirl -- "Of what are you afraid, my child?" inquired the kindly teacher. "Oh, sir! The flowers, they are wild," replied the timid creature. -from Peter Newell's "Wild Flowers" See the Garden of Paghat the Ratgirl: http://www.paghat.com/ |
#2
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Camp-out in the Garden
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#3
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Camp-out in the Garden
I hate to think what would happen here, we have Foxes and badgers as well as
a couple of feral cats prowling the place at night. Don't like the idea of providing a snack for them. -- David Hill Abacus nurseries www.abacus-nurseries.co.uk |
#4
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Camp-out in the Garden
On Sat, 9 Aug 2003 00:01:57 +0100, "David Hill"
wrote: I hate to think what would happen here, we have Foxes and badgers as well as a couple of feral cats prowling the place at night. Don't like the idea of providing a snack for them. I was thinking about being eaten alive by fire ants. |
#5
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Camp-out in the Garden
The message
from "David Hill" contains these words: I hate to think what would happen here, we have Foxes and badgers as well as a couple of feral cats prowling the place at night. Don't like the idea of providing a snack for them. Nah, why would they attack something larger than themselves? I once found a live frog in my sleeping bag, which was pretty horrible and evinced mighty screams until I realised that's all it was; and more recently a dead rabbit under my kip in the morning. It certainly wasn't there at bedtime so possibly it snuggled up in the night, mistaking me for St. Francis, and I rolled on the poor little bugger in my sleep and suffocated it. Janet. |
#6
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Camp-out in the Garden
In article , Janet Baraclough
wrote: The message from "David Hill" contains these words: I hate to think what would happen here, we have Foxes and badgers as well as a couple of feral cats prowling the place at night. Don't like the idea of providing a snack for them. Nah, why would they attack something larger than themselves? I once found a live frog in my sleeping bag, which was pretty horrible and evinced mighty screams until I realised that's all it was; and more recently a dead rabbit under my kip in the morning. It certainly wasn't there at bedtime so possibly it snuggled up in the night, mistaking me for St. Francis, and I rolled on the poor little bugger in my sleep and suffocated it. Janet. I used to camp out a lot when I was doing herpetological studies and it was very rough camping since we couldn't pack much into the off-the-trail places we investigated. But in my old age I don't care for it, and my last couple camp-outs were wussy ones with even electrical hookups. As it turns out, if we'd slept out in the garden last night as Granny Artemis wanted, we'd've gotten caught in a rain storm, which I quite loved listening to from our bedroom, happy the garden was being blessed by a hard rain & that I was not sleeping out in it. It might have been fun to actually catch and frighten the racoon, though, who visited again last night, knocked over the statue in the fountain, and dug up some fragile epimediums. But I remember one camp-out long ago when in the middle of the night I was awakened by a very loud THUMP right at the side of my head. I opened my eyes and was staring into the enormous eyes of a flying squirrel. It panted and gazed at me motionlessly, until I rather expected it might let me touch it, though of course when my shoulder moved it took off up a tree. It was a marvelous little encounter. If it had landed eight inches closer it would've been smack dab on my face. Before our visitor left us yesterday, we went for a woodland walk, and came around a corner to find ourselves within five or six feet of a deer, some of which are semi-tame around here. Even though our visitor's farm in southern Idaho is on the route of a large band of elk, such random encounters with wildlife are still nothing she's jaded by, and she was quite as thrilled as was I. We stood as still as we could, and the deer nonchallantly left the path, heading toward the sound of a second deer we couldn't see but which was certainly not making any effort to be quiet. So while I may have missed out on a chance to have the racoon climb over my sleeping bag on its way to our tiny pond last night, I'm not feeling all that deprived of wildlife encounters. -paghat the ratgirl -- "Of what are you afraid, my child?" inquired the kindly teacher. "Oh, sir! The flowers, they are wild," replied the timid creature. -from Peter Newell's "Wild Flowers" See the Garden of Paghat the Ratgirl: http://www.paghat.com/ |
#7
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Camp-out in the Garden
We'd have to sleep out under the stars, drenched in bug spray.
The mosquitos here this year are huge, vicious, & very numerous. I think I'll sleep inside, thanks. Don't want to chance West Nile virus anymore than necessary. Minteeleaf |
#8
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Camp-out in the Garden
The message
from Minteeleaf contains these words: We'd have to sleep out under the stars, drenched in bug spray. The mosquitos here this year are huge, vicious, & very numerous. I think I'll sleep inside, thanks. Don't want to chance West Nile virus anymore than necessary. In that case, try sleeping out in winter. That's fun too on a cold dry starry night, so long as you're well wrapped up. Janet. |
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