Sockless

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 exponentially.

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.

"Frankie!"

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.

Scent of a Turtle

Scent of a Woman:  I like that movie.  My favorite part isn't the Colonel's speech at the school.  My favorite part is the restaurant scene.  We'll get back to that.

This morning's weather was exceptional:  cool air, clear sky, sunny.  Just the break I needed to get some back yard chores done, a chance for the box turtles to spend time in their outside habitat, and perfect for digging up worms for turtles.

Besides my own two box turtles, I am rehabbing a two year old wild box turtle who was chewed up by a dog.  Iz, the victim box turtle, is healing well but his back legs don't yet carry weight. 

Momma Turtle and Big Turtle (with me for 15+ years) were dropped into their outdoor habitat. The little rehab turtle, Iz, needs some outdoor exercise time so he gets to stay with me.  Iz and I head into the yard to dig up worms for all the box turtles.

Not yet mentioned here but a force to be reckoned with is the 100 pound Frankie the sulcata tortoise: this is his backyard.  Frankie often sleeps in late and I hoped he would be still be sleeping when I am dig up worms.  Regretfully, Frankie too is enjoying the cool morning and is basking by the fence near the area I was going to dig up worms.

Oh, well.  I can handle Frankie......  (Haven't I said that before?)

I head to the fence looking for an area away from Frankie, With a small container, hand trowel, hand tiller and Iz the turtle in a box, I select an area where soil has built up by the fence, and a little distance from the basking Frankie. The worms love the deep soil and Frankie will be occupied with basking.

Iz is placed on the ground next to where I am sitting.  Iz get's busy scamping around while I dig for worms all the while keeping peripheral vision on Frankie.

Frankie's been eying me, too.  I am doing something in his yard so he considers that such activity must be contemplated, investigated, scrutinized, inspected, engaged, entangled, and possibly ultimately destroyed.  The minute Frankie picks up his shelled-shelf and starts walking my way I grab Iz and hide him back into the box lest Frankie find him.

Frankie inspects as he approaches the area.  He comes across the container full of dirt and worms.

"No, Frankie!  No ramming the dirt!"

Too late.  With one one step Frankie dumps my container of dirt and worms.

"Frankie! Go do something else. There is nothing for you here." 

Frankie stares at me like he doesn't understand English.  The voice tone Frankie gets because after a 30 second stare-down he turned around and headed up the hill. 

Iz gets placed back on the ground next to my knees and I start picking up dirt and worms Frankie dumped.  I take a gander over my shoulder checking to see where Frankie has walk. It's not good.  Just as Frankie gets five feet up the hill, he abruptly halts and stands there.  Slowly he turns his head back toward me like he's just figured something out.

Uh, oh.  Time for Iz and I to move.  It's a scramble to pick up Iz, supplies and what worms I've recovered.  Iz, supplies and I exit quickly to the left and relocate in another area.

Frankie heads back down to where I have finished digging.  Nose to the ground he re-examines the area I just left.  Standing in one specific spot Frankie reaches a conclusion and then he poops.  He takes another step and pees.

Yep.  Frankie has picked up the scent of a turtle:  specifically Iz the box turtle.  Frankie has peed and poop where Iz was sitting.

I make a prudent decision.  Abandoning the current task of digging up worms, Iz gets put back into his box, I pick up the worms and dirt, and we exit.  Just in time because Frankie is heading to our more recent location.

In full retreat, I watch as Frankie reaches our abandoned location.  Oops, I left the hand trowel. Frankie sniffs the unsuspecting hand trowel.  Iz was sitting right there on that spot.  Frankie sits on the hand trowel.

"Frankie! That was a new hand trowel!"  Frankie thinks it's a turtle.  

The exciting discovery of a new turtle scent trumps common sense of what a turtle looks like.  It's the scent of a turtle. A turtle that may well be a female. Trowel is a turtle.

After Frankie has smashed my hand trowel into the ground he heads over to his Home Depot orange bucket, mounts, and humps.

Frankie's busy, I think to myself.  Maybe I can dig up some more worms.  Iz can stay in the container. I retrieve my once concave now flat trowel.  Oh, well.  It still works.  I resume digging while Iz hangs around in his box.

Frankie stops humping in mid-hump.  He looks back my way.

In Scent of a Woman at the restaurant, Colonel Frank Sade says "I detect a fragrance in the air." What bouquet has Frankie detected?  His favorite perfume: Eau de Tortue.

"Frankie has a nose for you."  I look down at Iz in the box, stretched out, minding his own business.  So what if Frankie has flubbed up Iz's sex.  I don't think Frankie cares.

The Colonel said, "If you make a mistake and get all tangled up, you just tango on."

Tango on Frankie, tango on.

A Guide To Big (Dear Waffles...)

Dear Waffles, I've noticed how big you got over the summer.  It happens really fast for sulcata tortoises.  As I am an expert on BIG I thought I would share some things about getting closer to that 100 pound marker.

You're gonna need a bigger blanket.
 

Indoors starts looking a bit small

Indoors gets a little hazardous (for the indoor things, you'll be fine).

Your mom is gonna get tired of picking up these



















You'll end up outside more often but you'll love it!
The buffet is all you can eat!



















Things you used to eat become toys.

You'll start doing this a lot.

Mom will need help getting you in and out of the car.
 


















You'll need a bigger outdoor house.
This is big but 75% is for storing hay and carrots.

It's important to learn that a glass is solid.  If you insist you can crash through but you will need to wear a safety hat....so will everyone on the other side.

 

You got to get yourself a skateboard.

Sloth can't move outside with you but it's okay, there's things to snuggle with.

 
Even big you'll make all kinds a new friends.
If you can't dance just go freestyle. Nobody will mind.



















Best of all, you'll make lifelong friends who love you.

And that famous hiney shot gets more and more awesome.
 

















Love, Frankie

PS Godspeed my friend Michele Renea Wales who picked up her angel wings today.  We love you!