Reflections from Crumbly Acres: grandparents

Here I was, off doing 2 a.m. newborn grandbaby-comforting duty, and wiping a toddler's drippy nose. What a trip!

I presumed that things at home in Muskoka were well in hand. Hubby, known for his extensive planning abilities, managed the trip to deliver me, and pick me up, and assuring me moose sightings in Algonquin Park in the trip. Grandparents often trip around the province and the continent from Muskoka. Returning for summer fun in the sun, often babysitting the grandkids!

I arrived home and much to my chagrin the lawn (70% clover, 20% forget-me-nots, 10% dandelions) has been mown at the shoreline, but not all around and up the path. Sheesh. It is hard to get good help these days. I blame those parents that bring their kids to work. :-)

This Dad spends all his time watching out for the wee ones, and doesn't have time to mow, let alone groom himself, and the lawn.

The only thing that really scared big Daddy, were the airplanes passing overhead. You can see how agitated he was.

Not only that, but the cats, in charge of the raccoons and whatnot, seems rather disinterested in keeping them off the property.
'Butch' looks down at Sady. Weighs the odds.

They are a master of the trade treaties, only going through the motions. National détente, methinks. Little twerps.

Sady, hubby's tabby, 'treed' the 'coon, I use the term loosely as it only leapt a couple of feet up.

They both look at me to see if I was watching, much like granddaughter about to do something she
knows is wrong!

Said coon then climbed down, after a small whack, and Sady ignored it.

As I said, when I arrived home from visiting the kids, the geese cleared off, and took the goslings for a trip across the lake. In a half hour they were back. The cats had been indoors over the few days it took hubby to fetch me from Ottawa, when the goslings were given free reign of our lawn of clover. Soon, Oliver took great delight in running after the geese. Not the goslings...the geese. It didn't seem to faze them, either.

They co-operated and moved off of his lawn. Oliver was after a quick tripping robin (which he similarly missed—good exercise!) and surprised the heck out of the goose-in-charge. He honked and told Oliver (my black cat) off. Dutifully Dad guided the troops into the lake again. Last year we had Edie and Eva (from Green Acres!) and Lonesome Charlie. I wonder if the babies had babies, or if these were our original adults.

I began to putter in the garden, coughing madly with my cold. In a half hour troops were back again. They seemed annoyed that I was coughing!

I adore how they seem to have a cooperative, with two pairs of adults and (10 - 12?) goslings all finding the right parents. One honk from Dad and they all take off into the water. I wish all parents had such control! It would be the difference between life and death.

I came home with incredible moose photos and videos.
Plus, a face that only a mother could love. Praise be, my cold and coughing are worse than my bites.

The blackflies in Algonquin are treacherous. Bites on the back of my head, one my neck, 2 or 3 under the arms of my glasses on my temple.

But the doozy is the one under my eye. Blackflies take a chunk out. My cheek was so swollen it disrupted my vision, still swollen days later. I got the bites on Tuesday night, took the photo Thursday morning. Protect the kids, as the blackflies are out now at about at the same time as the mosquitoes.

You can see the moths gather above the sweet sap on new pine needles. This was in Whitney, where we had dinner at The Mad Musher!

But the trip was worth it. The moose were content to let me be eaten alive, while they flicked long, furry ears.

My best video would have been the male moose I saw with antlers around 8 p.m., but unfortunately the light was not strong enough- despite a night vision setting.