While Sharkey was visiting us recently, we sent out to inspect flowering plants and trees. It was also a good excuse to exercise our legs. As we went past the propane tank, Sylvia lifted the lid and found a nest.
It is well protected under that cover, but if those eggs aren’t hatched by the next delivery, the bird is in trouble. The propane delivery driver had earlier cleared another nest out of that cozy spot. I think it will happen again. Let’s hope that the babies have fledged by that time.
I’ve been watching mama bird come and go. Her mate is nearby and is frequently having minor spats with a couple of robins.
Maybe next year mama grackle will build her nest in the cedars again. It’s a much better place.
Every time I see this bush, it brings to mind a name for a [fictional?] music group with a female lead singer, Rhoda and the Dendrons.
We’ve had a lot going on here and it has kept me away from this blog. The vegetable garden is in and looking good. No pictures yet. The peonies are in blossom. The purples were first, followed by the pinks. Yesterday, the white peonies opened their blossoms. Japanese iris by the barn are looking good, but you have to walk right up to them to see them. They are hiding behind day lilies, which have not yet blossomed.
We are sleeping better at night since our new Sleep Number bed arrived last week. It is a lot nicer than sleeping in my recliner. What a difference it makes to raise the head (easier to breathe w/o snoring) and feet (Lessens pressure on the lower back). Our unit even has the built in massage. Expensive, but well worth it.
They used to tell me that life is simple. Being simple, I believed them.
Then I discovered that life isn’t that simple. Maybe there are 11 kinds of people, those who understand binary, those who don’t and those who aren’t sure. Add another category and we can have 100 kinds of people. Is that really simple? Seems complex to me.
Yes, life is complex. It is also in constant motion.
You get started in a career, get married, have children. Responsibilities not only accumulate, they also multiply. This phenomenon intensifies with time.
Warning: Don’t stare too long at that graphic. It can mess with your mind, and will if you let it.
These days it only takes a good night’s sleep to make me happy. (Okay I choose to be happy regardless of circumstances.)
When I was young, life was easy, But with age the slope grew greasy, Now at this age I do not care, My home’s not here, it’s over there.
Who take me from my nice warm cot?
And sit me on the ice-cold pot?
Who made me pee when I could not?
Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms in cyber land. Especially to the mother of our two sons and the mother of our fabulous granddaughter. All the best of everything with extra scoops of love on top and underneath.
Today, I put a marker in the garden in memory of Buddy.
Perhaps I should have been committed after the “Buddy incident.” Some seemed to think so. It could be that they viewed this as a sign of senility. It wasn’t. It was Sylvia and me having fun–lots of it. Now it’s over.
I think it’s time to find an itsy bitsy spider . . . Or not.
A couple of days ago, I introduced to Buddy, the hornet who had been living with us for over two weeks. I talked about him being our new pet. Most of you realized that it was all tongue-in-cheek humor. To my delight, you went along and reacted strongly. It was a lot of fun for me, and Sylvia enjoyed it too.
At our Tuesday night small group meeting, I mentioned Buddy. You should have seen the look of horror on the faces of some. Will I ever learn to “zip my lip?”
The Buddy saga has come to an end. Wednesday night I was still awake around 2 AM (that would have been Thursday). Sleep had fled and I walked through the kitchen on the way to the office. That’s when I saw him on the counter. I returned from the office with the camera.
Buddy had expired. There he was beside the container of drink we had prepared for him. Contents were water, vinegar, sugar and a bit of salt. According to an Internet post, it was supposed to kill the likes of buddy. I guess it worked.
The next morning I found a hand-written note from Sylvia. She completed the narrative of this would-be pet.
Thus ends the tale of Buddy. Thanks for enjoying his story with us.