These Did Not Touch My Lips
Realization Of The Day:
I need to be in the garden well before 8:00am if I want to beat the turtles to my berries.
Yep, when Cary, Bear, and I traipsed out there this morning, little stainless steel strainer in my hand, this is what we found not 10 feet from the strawberry bed, head stretched out, soaking up the sun, digesting MY breakfast.
And this was not your average duck-in-the-shell-and-close-it-up-tight-as-soon-as-it-sees-you scaredy turtle. Not at all. This turtle was proud to have stolen my strawberries. It was not afraid of a farmgirl and her entourage.
In fact, it tried as hard as it could to swim out of my hand during our entire trip to its new home--which is located far, far away from the berry patch.
Oh, but the excitement didn't end there. No, no, no. Once I'd procured what was left of the ripe strawberries (leaving, as usual, the half eaten ones as bait), I set down my little strainer and went to work.
(The entourage waited in the shade.) And while I was whacking at some tall weeds with my hoe, look what popped out.
Now I'm pretty sure this little critter has never had berry breath. But just to be on the safe side (after I'd beaten down the urge to keep it as a pet), I decided to relocate it--to a nice spot by the spring where there is lots of shade and fresh, cool water. What I should have probably done, though, is packed it up, taken it to Hollywood, and sold it as a Stunt Turtle, because this was one very patient little sport who was perfectly willing to pose for several silly pictures. And I do mean little. (Yes, I even brought it in the house so I could measure it.) It was just 1-1/2 inches long.
Like I said, I'm pretty sure the berries were safe.
What a morning. You never know what you're going to find in the garden. Oh, and the strawberries (once I finally got around to eating them) were absolutely delicious. I kinda wish I'd kept the turtle, though.
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