Frankie ate my sock. Um-hum, it is a bit funny. Right now. Frankie eating my socks. Again.
Muddy yard work. It's fall and yard work increases
exponentially. Some mathematician is gonna get me for that
comparison. It feels like it's increased
I finely broke down and bought two pallets of centipede sod.
Ended up I got the wrong kind as Greg was recommending St. Augustine
but I had spend a week talking to someone about Phelsuma cepediana
(commonly called the Blue Tail Day Gecko). When I called for
the sod I said I wanted "two pallets of cepediana...I mean
ceppy, seppy,...what do you guys call it?" Hence I ended
up with two pallets of centipede. It should be okay.
Right or wrong, the ultimate test belongs to Frankie. If
Frankie eats the grass then the grass is okay. If Frankie
doesn't eat the cepediana......I mean centipede then my next door
neighbor gets a free lawn make-over.
The centipede grass was a hit. As Greg and I install it in
the back yard Frankie went to work grazing on it.
Don't worry, we bought this from an organic farm. The sod is
grown on soil that grew organic peanuts last year. To help
keep the soil healthy, they rotate crops and this year they grew
cepediana....I mean centipede grass.
I found about the sod was grown on a previously-peanut-field until
the soil was delivered. All the peanut hulls and roots are on
the bottom of the sod. I wasn't worried about Frankie. I
was worried about was Greg who is sensitive to peanuts. I
warned Greg about it. Greg wasn't worried about it since he
wasn't the one grazing on the soil.
So we laid the sod. Frankie taste tested each roll. We finely
have a Frankie approved yard now almost fully grassed. Sod went
down on 1/3 of the yard, 1/3 of the yard is the old grass and I've surrender the other 1/3 and call it Frankie's slide, mud pit and
worm farm. It works.
The hard work began after the sod was laid. Greg's arms had
swollen red welts that took days to return to normal (I warned him).
We both would soak all the sod daily for up to two weeks regardless
of how hot it is outside. In hot weather it's like standing in
your own steam bath while watering.
The greatest burden went to the grazer. Frankie had the
difficult choice between the old St Augustine, Pensacola Bahia Grass,
clover, weed, hay or the new cepediana...I mean centipede grass.
It's a burden Frankie doesn't take lightly.
I can see it as he walks around the yard. It's a bite of
Bahia: light, crisp but a bit thin. A taste of St Augustine:
short but stout but chewy. The small bitter clover is
yummy. The plentiful new cepe..centipede grass is delicious
with a slight peanut overtone. A return bite on the favorite
Orchard Hay: dry crisp and the aroma of fresh hay.
All that was nice but I suspect my sock was the pleasant surprise
of the day.
I had just finished 30 minutes of watering all the sod. At
the back door I slid out of my wet shoes and pulled off my wet
socks. The socks got tucked into the shoe but not deep as I
didn't want the inside of my shoes to get wet. Barefooted I
went inside for some nice cool ice tea.
Intending on returning outside immediately, I was briefly
distracted by twenty-seven other things and actually opened the back
door about an hour later. Sitting less than five feet from me
is Frankie chowing down on my sock.
Ignoring my frantic shouts to Stop!, Stop!, Stop!, Frankie
continues to dine on my sock. I grab the last half of the sock
and battle Frankie for whole of the sock. Ever so firmly
I pull the sock back out of Frankie's mouth.
Frankie sits while I lecture him on the dangers of eating things
like socks which are bad news if they get swallowed and have to
travel the twist and turns of a sulcata tortoise's intestines.
Bad news, Frankie, if a sock gets caught on the way through and plugs
up the plumbing because then said sulcata will have to visit a
veterinarian. If that veterinarian can't get the plumbing
cleared then it could be the sock is causing an impaction and boy
will that be a big deal: a really bad deal.
Frankie is patiently listening to my lecture when it dawns on me
that the other, second sock is missing. Yep. I got one sock in
my hand lately saved from being totally ingested by Frankie but
number two sock is completely missing in action.
My head dropped down to my chest. Awe, man!
Write out To Do List: 1) search yard for missing sock, 2) go
to every Asian and Hispanic market in the area to find aloe and
cactus, 3) buy canned pumpkin, 4) reconsider that caring for a
sulcata is more trouble than it's worth, 5) buy mineral oil, 6) erase
number four (because I love Frankie), and 7) start poop patrol.
Worth considering is the missing sock is a super low cut
sock. You know, the socks that are so small they just don't stay
above your heal and end up under your arch. Yea. Lucky
me. Cepedianna, centipede. Tube sock, ankle sock. Yea.
I know where missing socks go.
Wish me luck on poop patrol 2014.