Not so dear deer

Noooo! After nursing my prize Wimberley like oak along for several years, on a recent visit I discovered that a deer was more fond of it than I would have preferred. Deer love to rub their racks on succulent young trees for some reason, but I didn't think they'd go after MY little tree because it has guy ropes around it. The first photo shows what the deer did, and somehow he managed to do that pretty much all the way around the trunk, guy ropes be damned.

After going through several steps of the grieving process, including thoughts of a horrible death for the offending deer, I set about addressing the immediate problem as any true geek would. I the wrapped the injury with some special high-tech stuff to keep it from drying out (AKA duct tape), then tied a bunch of protective sticks around the base to keep Bambi away in the future, as seen in the second photo.

After all of my work to get this one little tree into adulthood, it seems to me that the chances of any one tree making it in the wild must be about one in a zillion. Hopefully the next time I write about this tree will years from now, and I'll include a photo showing it throwing lots of shade for my sweetheart and I sitting beneath it, sipping lemonade.

Big Bird

Black Vultures and Turkey Vultures are a common sight in the Hill Country, and Wimberely is no exception. I suppose they are growing in numbers because the many thousands of new residents and visitors oblige them with fresh road kill as they zip through the countryside.

They seem to be especially found of perching on this power pole at my place, or any place up high that gives them a good few of potential new snacks. See all those white streaks flowing down from the top of the pole? Yeah, that's what it is all right. Bird Turd. Buzzard Barf.

Some day I'll get a photo of them soaring closely overhead, which is considerably more spectacular than seeing them standing in their own crap on top of this pole. Their outstretched wing span is incredible when viewed that way, with every feather rippling in the wind, making an erie whisper when gliding. The volume increases with each change in direction, and becomes more of a roar when they begin flapping there wings after spotting me spying on them. Interesting birds, so despised and ugly in some ways, but powerful and graceful when viewed in a different way.

Flattened

Turns out that during my most recent trip to Wimberley I didn't get as much work done as I had planned. I had hoped to extend the crushed limestone driveway to where the home will be built. My plans were flattened, probably by some small sticker that managed to get into the wheelbarrow tire. So, back to the big city for a flat-proof wheelbarrow tire, a rubber product that is made of something similar to a Nerf football, but much more dense. Next visit, it will be "revenge of the equipment geek" as I fit the new tire and conquer the still-mighty pile of rock!

For sale:
One wheelbarrow tire, used only once, slightly inflation-challenged.