Prison Break

It is a beautiful SoGa morning - not too much heat or humidity, no rain, no snakes (although we did have a three foot *baby* white oak snake peek at us through the French doors from the porch and into the living room - how did he navigate through all those corgi hair tumbleweeds?).  My furry friends and I just got back from our walk where we admired the growing piles of hair at every corner (got to pull out the molting fur while the dogs are marking territory) and the landscaping work of the local prisoners.  Yes, maybe it is a southern thing, but little Q'town uses prison labor for various tasks.  This week the guys are trimming the azaleas which grow in the median of our main historic residential street.  They are out there in black and white striped prison togs wielding trimmers, blowers, and chain saws.  And in fact, are doing a beautiful job.  These particular guys seem to know how to get a nice shape out the the plants and are not just beheading them, but actually removing the weedy stuff growing through and around the bushes. 

A sweet deer hanging out at my parents' house.  This one was crossing the street when I pulled up one afternoon, walked through a neighbor's yard, ate some plants, then posed for me.  We don't see any deer in our yard - they prefer to stay in the 40 acre woods.