Chipmunk Park

Summer has officially begun for the kids. School is out and they are on summer vacation. One of their last school assignments was to hold a “Summit” meeting to discuss important issues. It was part of their civics class. The most important issue they could come up with was having fun on summer vacation. After much debate, all of the participating students agreed unanimously that they needed a fun park. The student council pitched the idea to the Woodpile City Council.  The City Council set aside some land for the park but said there was no money in the budget for playground equipment. I suggested that we hold a scavenger hunt to find items we could recycle into stuff for the park. The scavenger hunt kept the kids busy for a full week. A discarded tire made a great swing. A piece of plastic was quickly turned into a slide. Some logs with knot holes made for a hide & seek area.

A workmunk is busy installing the playground equipment. The bricks are the support for the slide.

The building inspector was concerned that the log with the knot hole might tip over. A decision was made to lay it on its side rather straight up.

For some young ‘munks this was their first time on a slide. Rather than “slide” this fellow tried to hold on for dear life. Luckily for him, one of the girls showed him how it worked.

Some of the young ‘munks found that tree climbing was more exciting then the playground equipment

The logs proved perfect for a game of hide & seek.

The “seeker” checks the hole for anyone hiding inside but never checks behind the log!

The “seeker” checks another hole without any success of finding any chipmunks.

One of the “hiders” peaks out and yells “missed me!”

It looks like the height of the swing needs some adjustment.

With a running leap one of the kids finally manages to get on the swing.

By shifting his body weight this fellow got the swing going quite fast.

Charlie the rabbit wants to join the fun

Garden Gnome

The hot dry spell we are in has left the ground rather parched. I have been obligated to water the garden on a daily basis less everything shrivel up. It has become part of my morning routine, and it is almost meditative in nature. Just me, the flowers and the bees.

 

This morning I was basking in the cool morning air and taking in the sweet scent of the flowers when I was startled back to reality. I heard rustling noises come from another part of the garden. I feared the worst – Could it be a ground hog? A saboteur from one of my competing gardeners? My wife coming to complain I forget to take out the garbage?

I climbed up on a log for a better vantage point. I privately resolved that I would be polite and friendly until I figured out if was friend or foe.

To my complete surprise, a gnome waddled out of the flowers and plopped down next to the log. We both said to each other simultaneously “welcome to my garden!” Okay that was a bit weird.

I had grown up hearing stories about gnomes from my grandmother. I had always thought they were just fairie tales. But, here I am with a living breathing gnome.

A thing or two you should know about my grandmother. She was one of those 1960s environmental activist types. She was big on “flower power.” Here is a photo of her. To be quite honest, she told some crazy stories of her adventures, and I thought most of them were made up. Apparently they weren’t.

 

Gnome thinking to himself: “A talking chipmunk?! I must have drank more than I thought. It sure is cute and cuddly. Ya know what, I think this would make a great pet for my wife. If she had a pet that would sit on her lap and listen to her talk for hours on end … well, she might stop nagging me all the time. Now how do I capture it and what do I carry it home in?”

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am Chippy. I live at the Woodpile.”  The gnome introduced himself as “Wandering Joe” from the Oak Tree village.

What exactly do you talk to a gnome about? “Well, umm, you gnomes sure have big paws.” I could fit my entire body inside his boot. Wandering Joe offered to let me try his boot on. His eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam which was rather unsettling. I politely declined the offer.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of exotic sunflower seeds which he placed on the brim of his hat. The smell was irresistible. I could not stop myself from getting closer and closer to them.

The taste was heavenly. For a brief moment I was completely distracted by the seeds. Suddenly, out of the corner of eye, I caught the motion of his hand rising up to grab the hat. I swear he planned on tossing me up and plucking me out of mid-air like a butterfly in a net. I jumped clear and he made no move towards me. It must have been my imagination.

I decided I needed to know more about this fellow. I called his attention to some rare orchids in garden while I rifled through its pocket for any clues. I found a few coins, a half empty bottle of mead, and a grocery list. What would Sherlock Holmes deduct from these clues? It is elementary - The wife sent him shopping but he bought a bottle of booze instead and half drunk wandered into my garden.

I confronted him and he confessed. He even admitted he harbored secret plans to kidnap me and turn me into a lap pet for his wife.

I crawled up to his ear and whispered, that I thought gnomes were just fictional characters in children’s fairie tales. We both had a good laugh and polished off the rest of his bottle of mead.

Sewing Machine

I had a craving for a Seed Lover’s Supreme Pizza. I placed an order with the Stone Wall Kitchen and Pizzeria on the other side of town. Unfortunately their delivery van was in the repair shop, I would have to pick it up in person. No problem, I called an Uber. The pizza was ready when I arrived. I got in the Uber, and the driver put on two more layers of masks. I asked why, the driver said she couldn’t stand the smell of roasted seeds and garlic. She clearly didn’t have a very sophisticated palette. Halfway home to the Woodpile, I yelled to the driver to stop. I had spied a perfectly good one hundred year old Sterling sewing machine in “mint” condition along the side of the road for free.  The driver begrudgingly stuffed it into the trunk as best as she could. We managed to get it back to the Woodpile in one piece. Although, it cost me $100 tip for the ride.

I didn’t realize how big it was until it was unloaded. It was nearly as tall as the Woodpile. My cousin Vinnie the P. dropped by, he loves mechanical contraptions. He climbed up and started giving it a thorough inspection. I overheard him muttering to himself, “non-electric model, cam shaft pedal powered, cast metal parts, needs a bit of lubrication … we can get this working again.” Vinnie yelled down, you need to find the thread and bobbins, they are probably in one of the drawers.

I cautiously climbed up. Quite a view from up here!

Then I realized I had cross over to the other side. This iron rod isn’t very wide, hope I don’t fall off.

Okay, I got to the top, now how do I open the drawers?

With super-critter strength I pried open the bottom drawer with my front paws.

Vinnie, sorry, it isn’t in this one. Vinnie yelled back, try the top drawer.

Easier said then done!

I found them what next?

I started by installing the bobbin.

Next was to get the thread installed.

Hmmm, how do get the needle to go up and down? Do I have to turn this wheel?

Maybe I have pull down on the belt?

Vinnie explained this machine was pedal powered. You rock it back and forth. This is what the life of a gerbil must be like.

Pedal isn’t moving, what seems to be the trouble? Very funny, who stuck the acorns under here!

It was a lot of work to run the pedal. We took turns.

We had it running at top speed when all of sudden we heard a loud Kaboom!

I see the problem now. The belt has broken

Its only a hundred years old, I wonder if it still under warranty?

It gave Vinnie an excuse to use his hand tools.

 

 

While we were repairing the machine, my wife dropped by and 

asked the million dollar question What do you plan on sewing with it?”

The dumb look on my face said it all. Vinnie and myself had gotten so caught up in repairing it, we hadn’t thought of the obvious. Having completely deflated Vinnie and my egos, she sent me back to the burrow for some cloth and her scissors. When I returned, me and Vinnie ran the foot petal while she made masks for the local animal hospital.

PUBLIC SERVICE MESSAGE

 A spokes'munk from CCDC (Critter Center for Disease Control) demonstrates proper paw washing.

Water Can

I was surfing Critterbay (don’t tell my boss, I was supposed to be working from home) when I came across this amazing deal. For only $9.95 I could get a super-sized Guinness Sunflower seed guaranteed to produce 20 pounds of seeds. The offer included free shipping. I ordered one seed, planted it once it arrived and placed it the greenhouse for good measure. Five days later it was already huge. It had grown twice my body length including my tail!

Here is my greenhouse

My sunflower at five days old was bigger than the tomato and squash plants started three weeks ago. (These other plants were Mom’s. I rented her some space in my greenhouse.)

This plant has quite a thirst. I can’t seem to satisfy it. This morning it took 20 trips with my coffee mug to water it. I had to drink five cups myself just to keep hydrated in this hot weather. There must be a better way.  So, I took a trip to the garden shop to see what my options were. I never realized the garden shop sales’munk are worst than used car sales’munks. I asked about a watering solution and they tried to sell me a garden trowel. It was a human size trowel. In fact just about everything in the shop was oddly human size.

What does a trowel have to do with watering plants? Although I must admit it would make a clever seed platter for a garden party.

 I went home and got my sunflower plant to explain my situation.

The sales’munk said what I really needed was a “squirt can.” I never heard of it. I gave it a try and discovered it took about 50 squirts to deliver an ounce of water. That seemed like a lot of work to me.

I made my dissatisfaction clear to the sales’munk

Undeterred, the sales’munk suggested a “supersized” watering can.

Well, this will certainly hold a lot of water, looks like about two gallons worth.

How exactly do I pour this?

I wonder how you get down … wait a moment … its tipping over … hold on tight!

It certainly makes for a great amusement park ride.

Seriously the nozzle on this water can is as big as my pot. However, at my plant’s current rate of growth, I will be needing this in another week. Not to mention, I will need to dig a hole in the garden to plant it in. I decided to buy everything. I manage to talk the sales’munk down 50% on the price.

I know what you’re thinking, Chippy has completely lost his marbles. Rest assured there is  a rationale explanation for my apparent madness. Sometimes you've got think beyond your own species. There is a human kid in my neighborhood who can’t participate in the “squirt can” water fights with the other kids because his parents can’t afford to buy him one. I'm going to let him borrow mine in exchange for him using the trowel to help me plant the sunflower in the garden and water it daily with the super-sized watering can. A win-win for everyone.