D.O.P.-T. (Friday)

My hanging bowl of petunias died, poor things.

D.O.P.-T. (day before yesterday)

I stuffed massive amounts of almost entirely long grass seed from the new bag into the bird sock, and I think they are slowly figuring out that there's food there again. The round stuff that is hard to get through the holes is still there at the bottom, but I saw a house finch there again today. Of course it's also been stultifyingly hot. This morning a hummingbird flew over me screeching electronically as if demanding rain.

D.O.P.-T. (yesterday)

The chicken run now occupies the entire front lawn; the porch has been wired off. I have great respect for the mowing job the flock has been doing on the grass.