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.
Our tulips have finally blossomed.
Aren’t they pretty?
By the time tulips blossom we are in the good part of spring. (For the most part.)
The cherry trees are in blossom. It rained all day yesterday, so I wasn’t able to capture an image to share with you. Perhaps later today . . .
Today’s forecast is for a better day. I’m ready for that now.
These are not two ships passing in the night.
And this is not the acceptable way to pass.
Not even acceptable way to pass time.
#talladegaracing
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.
Should I smash the next one that appears?
It was about 2 weeks ago when we first saw him. He was on the ceiling. Out of reach. The next day he was on a window. Behind the Venetian blinds. That happened several more times.
A week later, Sylvia said, “If you are going to hang around with us I’ll have to give you a name. I’ll call you Buddy.” That’s how it began.
Is it possible to grow fond of a flying insect with a stinger? I think that’s what’s happening here. Wouldn’t you find a spot in your heart for such a handsome fellow as Buddy?
Buddy’s not a cat or a cute little puppy. He’s not the kind of guy with which you want to cuddle. Still he’s interesting to watch. And he seems to be a very good listener when I talk to him.
Still the question remains. Does a hornet make a good pet?
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.
For our part, Sylvia and I are fine.
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.
#feelinggood
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.”
Snow drifts can be whimsical.
Interesting, but not really whimsical.
For whimsy, you must look at from a new, dare I say “negative,” point of view.
That what we were looking for!
Shadow on snow are also interesting. I love the way they “flow” with the landscape.
Other worldly?
I darkened the tree to add to the fun. Here’s another.
This is my favorite. Not much flat land around here.
Most of the time, life is all about how you look at it. Would you agree?