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.
This last week, brought enough bad news to last for the rest of this year. Most of it involved friends and colleagues who are going through difficult times. Problems range from relationships, finances, health to emotional troubles. It left me feeling more than a little bit sad.
The beat continues today with news that our pastor’s wife has gone to be with her mother. The prognosis is not good and doctors say her mother might not make it past the weekend. At least the focus, come Sunday, is on resurrection. We can all find comfort it that.
We were at the table eating our evening meal of catfish, boiled potatoes and mixed veggies with salsa. I heard the sound of a helicopter, which is not unusual around here. I didn’t see the aircraft, but I did catch a good look at the evening sky. Excusing myself, I made a dash for the camera and went out on the front deck.
I zoomed in on the “fire in the sky.” This was most remarkable for the tear in the space/time continuum.
Then I zoomed back out to catch the overall scene. Not as dramatic, but it was a beautiful moment to cap off what had been a beautiful day. Later, I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a very long time.
Sorry if the title made you think about cake. Didn’t the gals used to call it “frosting” when they put white highlights in their hair? If so, I’m not talking about that either. I’m talking about hoarfrost or rime.
I was late waking up on Saturday and the bright sun was making short work of the ice crystal magic. On Sunday, rime on the trees was very heavy, but I was not able to get a picture of that.
Life works that way some times. It reminds me of the story of the couple that was touring in Europe. They came to an ancient church. The sign said, “This building dedicated to the glory of God — 1130. She turned to him and said, “Oh honey, pity we weren’t here twenty minutes earlier.”
I looked out the window and saw two, three . . . four . . . no, five. Count them. Five deer.
Do you see all five?
In previous years, that would not be unusual, but disease and a particularly brutal winter (not this one) have taken a severe toll on our deer population. It was a surprise to see this many. They acted very nervous. They must have seen me move in the window.
Exit. Stage left
The two on my right started to move. The rest soon followed. The one on the far left was a straggler, but was soon putting the motivator into high gear.