This is the time of year that I run out and get pictures of my daylilies before they’re gone. There’s a reason they call them daylilies.
This morning, the miniature daylily bloomed. It’s a little beauty.
It is pretty small, though, compared to its cousins.
All of my few remaining lilies are gorgeous — though there aren’t many after the squirrel plague of a couple of years ago. The ground squirrels were killing full-grown trees, let alone delicious lilies. So the ones that are left are appreciated. You can see why . . .
We had an interesting night, a couple of days ago. About one o’clock in the morning, the dogs hit the dog door, yelling their heads off. When I looked out, I could see a single taillight at the end of the lane, where it drops off into the river. Pretty soon I could see flashlights bobbing around, and hear voices. Sure enough, someone had tried to drive down into the sand, and not made it very far. I could hear the engine revving, but they were stuck fast. We listened for a while, but it was pretty obvious they weren’t getting out on their own. Nor did they come up to the house for help — probably because of the dogs. They wouldn’t have gotten an enthusiastic reception anyway, at that time of night. Billy, though, being a merciful person, got on the phone and routed poor Scott out to come and help. He drove the backhoe over, and popped them out in short order. Scott has rescued people in that way quite a lot. It seems there’s always someone who thinks their pickup can handle the sand; especially of they’re full of . . . cheer.