Bye Bye Birdies; Deck

 Well, it happened.  The wren nest was getting crowded.

Then they fledged.  Once again, I was lucky enough to see it (from the first one leaving the nest to all of them gone takes 15-20 minutes, so I don't often catch it).  I always feel a little twisted up when they go.  They are so impossibly tiny,  fly like Snoopy's pal Woodstock, and it's such a big world.

I miss them.  For two weeks I tiptoed every time I left the house while Mama Wren was brooding on the eggs so as not to disturb her.  Then after they hatched and she was off catching bugs all day (along with Dad) I would allow myself one peep a day.  I loved the way the parents would yell at me any time I was on the porch.

Now the porch just seems empty.

I *finally* got the deck painted (well, stained).  I pressure washed it and bought the stain in early March.  Then came a couple of storms - and you need to let the wood dry out before you paint.  After that, spring sprung, so there was a constant falling of leaves, oak tassels, and pollen thick in the air.  Saturday morning and evening I got the two coats on the deck, and Sunday I painted the railings.

I have to admit feeling a little hypocritical Sunday.  It was a pretty day, and I was having one of those moments I get sometimes when I wish that someone would reach out to me.  An offer for lunch, or to go hiking, or go throw tomahawks, or something.  But just before I got started on the railings, I checked FaceBook, and my friend Joe had posted "Hey!  Anyone want to go get brunch?"  Sort of generic, but there was my chance.  I pondered it.  Joe is fun, but what one friend describes as "a lot."  He's also very ADHD. He's the one a couple of years ago who was supposed to meet me at the circus - and then took a nap instead.  I also pondered the wisdom of trying to find a place for brunch on Easter Sunday.  And I could see myself getting dressed, driving into town, facing a packed restaurant, only to find that he had been distracted by something shiny and forgot to show up.

I painted my railing instead.  In the afternoon I got a note from John asking if I wanted to come take a walk.  Direct invitation to me, and the lake near his place is very pretty.  But I was tired from the painting, and it's about a 45+ minute drive there (and back)  I opted to put the second coat on the railings instead.

So apparently I wasn't *that* interested in getting an invitation.  And the deck looks good.  

I have spent time in the evenings at the edge of the wood with the fireflies.  Of course, I can't help but be a little wistful thinking of the times that Bob and I would take a blanket down there to watch them, and then end up making love in that magical flickering light.  At least I have memories.

I did get a social outing - the museum had the annual volunteer thank-you party.  It's fun to see people I haven't for awhile (we all seem to work on different days) and eat food that I haven't cooked.  It was a pretty evening and OMG I stayed out until 9:00.

Feel like I should have some sort of closing line, but I don't.

Baby Wrens; Tackling the Azaleas

 I've really been in the doldrums.  I started replacing the waistbands on a couple of skirts a week or two ago - and still haven't finished (it's a bit of a nuisance).  I've just got that feeling of being almost embarrassed - I've got a lot more free time, and a heckuva lot more space than anyone I know - and I don't seem to be doing anything.
There are times that I miss the mad desperate frenetic energy of when I first came home in 2020.  I look back, and an amazed that less that a week after I lost Bob I was madly sewing Covid masks, making limoncello, and deep cleaning the house (because, of course, I thought that people would be coming to see me, which no one did, because Covid)

Partly it's because the weather has been freaky.  We were being normal - meaning temperatures in the mid-80s, then a major storm came through and we dropped back to being cool, which is glorious but confusing.  For almost a week my house has been colder than I keep it in the winter because damned if I'm turning the heat back on.   Now it's being chilly enough to need a sweatshirt in the morning, and in the 80s by the middle of the day (which makes it tricky to dress for work)

But I realize I'm not alone.  Everyone I know is feeling off, with the background of our government being dismantled and every stride forward from birth control to diversity equality to environmental protection that we've made in the last 100 years making a quick trip backwards.  So we're all going to feel strange for quite some time.

I've bowed to the inevitable.  I've hit that stage of life (and also have residual damage from the Great Snake Bite of 2008) that my ankles swell in hot weather.  I've often worn compression socks at work in the summer, but I'm realizing that I'm also going to need to wear them even at home, especially if I'm out working.  I figured that I would need a few more pairs and ordered a six pack - because if you have to wear the things, they might as well be cute.

I've been whacking down the underbrush - and my answer to my own question of "why didn't I get that stuff under control over the winter" is that I did - but come spring it's all growing like crazy.  I also spent the better part of two days working on the azaleas in front of the house.

They've gotten a little out of control, to say the least.  What I *should* have done was just go in and cut everything down to knee high - which would have looked like dead bare branches and been really ugly for a year or two and then look good.  But I couldn't make myself do that, so I worked my way into them, cut back everything that was higher than the house, thinned it out, and cut away all the dead wood.  The result of two days of hard work, and a pile of cut branches big enough for a bonfire dragged over to the fire pit - is that it doesn't really look different enough to show an after picture.  But the dead tangle of old branches is gone, so hopefully some more light and air can get in there for new growth.

The fun thing is my family of little wrens.  After I lost Bob, I couldn't bring myself to move his old gardening hat that he left hanging from the door of a storage cabinet on the front porch.  And every year now, the Carolina wrens make a nest in it - which he would have loved.  My problem is making myself keep away from it - it's conveniently hanging at eye level.  But I had to check from time to time - and by the end of March there were tiny eggs.

Then came the really hard part - not even taking a peek for 15 days because Mama Wren was brooding and I didn't want to spook her off the nest.  After the eggs hatch I allow myself one peek a day because the Wren isn't on the nest much - mostly making trips back and forth every few minutes to get food for the little guys.  Come day 15 - and I have a nest of what looks like grubs.

Watching them grow is like watching stop-motion photography.  It's incredible to think that they'll go from this to fledging and leaving the nest in two weeks.

Four days later they've gotten fuzzy.

Have I witnessed this before?  Yes - almost every year for the last 30-some years (some nests I had to get on a stepladder to look - this one is convenient).  Will I ever get over the feeling like I'm witnessing a miracle?  Never.

The other miracle happened tonight - the fireflies are back!  I was worried that the ice storm might have killed them off.  The moon is very bright right now, but in a few days I'll brave the mosquitoes to go sit outside with them.

Quarterly Report; RIP Rock

 First quarter of the year done, and I thought I'd do a review.  It always seems to me that I don't do much - when Rob calls and asks what I've been up to, my answer is always "not much" because I can't think of anything off the top of my head.

Hence, the blog.  It helps me keep track of my life.  So I thought I'd do a quarterly report.

The big thing was finishing the stream project.  I spend a lot of time down there (that will probably become less as the heat/humidity/bug time comes).  I still feel a sense of wonder and even awe that somehow this belongs to me.  Sometimes I just walk, and wander around and into the woods and say hi to the frog and lizards.  Often I'll read.

This book was "The House on the Cerulean Sea" and I had an epiphany at one point.  There was a shy boy who liked to write, but he had his desk and typewriter in the closet because it was small and he wasn't ready to be big.  And I thought about the time after one of our moves (I think I was in third grade) where it was one move too many, and Mom found me always sitting in the closet.  She made me come out for meals - and she would make me come out to go to bed, but I'd move back in and sleep in the closet.  It didn't last long - I emerged after 3-4 days when I felt ready to cope.

The epiphany was that I'm doing that now.  I'm living in the closet; it's a *very* large closet, but it's separated and isolated and not too many people know where it is and even fewer ever come out here.

Speaking of books - 17 books so far.  And all over the place.  I think it's easier to say that I don't read Westerns, murder mysteries, or romance than to try to identify what I do read, which is everything else.  I have attended two meetings of the local library book club; I like that there is something going on that's a 3 minute drive away rather than the usual 45+.  The books are chosen by the library system.  But I don't know if I can keep it up - all of the books are about social agendas and oppressed people.  That's a little heavy for summer reading.

I've also been to two meetings of the Silent Book Club, and while it is the 45 minute drive, it's just so weirdly charming that I'm going to keep it up.

In general, I'm getting out more, socially, on a regular basis.  Once a month after my chiropractor appointment I go visit Gill.  Once a month there's lunch with a museum group.  The monthly library book club, and the monthly silent book club.  But I'm much more relaxed about it than I was in 2023, when I was "putting myself out there", or 2024 when my mood was "screw it, I'll be a hermit."   2023 had the goal of if I put myself out there, I will meet people and make friends and then have someone to sometimes have lunch with, or coffee, or go for a walk, or talk about projects or even collaborate on something - well, that was a flop.  Didn't happen.  Reached out, no one reached back.  Got stood up (some 4-6 times).  Hence the "screw it" attitude of 2024.

Now - no expectations.  I go the the lunch, or the book club, and have an hour or so of socializing, and that's it.  It's enough; I don't expect anything more.  And I can skip any of them if I don't feel like going, with no one to particularly notice or care (except for the visit with Gill because she will have baked scones for me)

Other things this quarter - two root canals and a crown.  Such fun.

Some months ago I made a handkerchief linen poet's shirt that I really loved - almost.  It was supposed to be loose and flowing - it turned out to be a tent.  I had done a boatload of handwork on it (it was a early 19th century pattern).  The fabric is luscious.  The color so subtle - called shadow gray, with a pink cast.  But - I never wore it, because tent.  So, with a sigh, I cut it apart and redid a few hours of hand work and now I can wear it, and I have.

I have also tackled a couple of light summer skirts that I haven't worn for a couple of years because the elastic waistbands had stretched out and replacing those is a royal pain in the butt and a lot more work than it seems it should be.  I have a couple more in the pipeline but their turn might be next year.

One almost failed experiment.  I read something about "allspice dram."  Basically a liquor where you soak allspice berries in rum for a couple of weeks, then mix in sugar syrup.  It's used in tiki drinks (whatever that is), but can also be sipped as a liqueur, which I find appealing (I love spiced rum).  But it turned out to be *really* heavy on the allspice, and for me totally unsippable.   But a dribble in tea or hot apple juice or milk is good, so at least I didn't waste the rum.

We had an ice storm, which was so pretty, but I had a hard time getting the ice off of the bridge.  And as long as I was dealing with that, I cleared a heavy load of dirt, sand, and trees roots that I had been neglecting.

I finally cut down a couple of dead trees in front of the house.  I got a new roof put on (and cleared a neglected upper road so that the shingle truck could get in).  I went to see a live theatre musical (Young Frankenstein).  I went to the Royal Hanneford circus.  I was annoyed that a comb that I ordered wasn't what I wanted (the wood had a polyurethane coating) but I took the time to take care of that.  I recovered the sunshade to an outdoor lounge.

I finished my 828 mile virtual walk around Iceland, and am now 100 miles into my virtual walk the length of England (so only 984 miles to go).  I also did the Tree-to-Tree ropes course again.

I power washed the front deck, but alas, spring came and the leaves, pollen, and oak tassels are falling faster than I can sweep them up so the actual staining/sealing will have to wait a bit.

I did the Tree-to-Tree ropes course.

All that led up to my 3-day cocooning where I didn't do a damned thing.

So that's the quarter - summed up, it's not bad.

It's now April 5.  I've done a couple more things.  The weirdest was to make a couple of bear blankets.  Not blankets with bear designs, but blankets for a bear.  Lavern (one of the museum bears) apparently likes to cover up when she goes to sleep - she grabs tree limbs, or the packing paper from Amazon (which they give to her) and drags it over herself.  Shelby gave her some pieces of burlap, which she liked, but got some of the unraveled strands wrapped around her foot.  So I sewed them up to keep them from raveling.   (Another museum sewing project was to sew some webbing around a metal frame to make a stretcher to carry a panther after he had been knocked out.  I can't take credit for that - it was Shelby's idea, and she did most of it, but her hands got tired.)

Jeff is back in town for work, so Thursday I was able to meet him for dinner.  But that made for a long day.  First, I worked - and the weather is getting hot and sticky again.  I came home, and, as always, went to check on the chickens, only to find that my hen Rock had died.  I have no idea; I try to understand that just up and dying is something that chickens do.  But I had to give her a funeral, then as a precaution clean and disinfect the coop.  Then shower and go to dinner.  I was tired.  But that's all right - so was Jeff, and we've been friends long enough that it's OK just to sit and veg together.

The next day  - Friday is normally my day of rest - I drove across town to go watch Wicked with a friend.  Mostly John is a FB friend - we "met" when he had posted about really liking Halloween.  I feel a little sorry for him - he's a sweet guy, but lonely.  He's very obviously autistic (Asperger's), which makes it hard to make friends.  And he really wanted someone to watch Wicked with him, so I did.  He even got out witch hats and capes for us to wear while we watched.

So today I'm resting (sort of).

Lunchtime.

Back Online

 My cocooning period is over.  I shut down for 2 days (2.5 if you count Friday afternoon, when I started).

It felt good.  I'm glad I did it.  I stayed off social media and away from the news.  For some reason, I even covered up the clocks.  I figured if I slept too late, the cats would let me know.  And I don't need a clock to tell me when to put up the chickens at night; the angle of the sun would tell me that.  I ate and drank when and what I felt like (and yes, that once included mimosas at around 3:00 a.m.  - which is quite good).  I moved back to sleeping on the couch.  Mostly I lounged - out front on my newly-refurbished lounge, next to the riot of azaleas, or down in the woods (spent a lot of time down there) or on the back deck, reading and handing peanuts to Crazy Ass Squirrel.

Perhaps I should explain the concept of "predator" to the squirrel.

The thing that I find touching (literally) is the way that when he's taking a peanut, for a moment he'll rest his paw on my finger.  Such a trusting little gesture.

In general, I just stayed very quiet.  I had two bad moments on the 30th.  One was a little after 9:00, the time that he died.  Fortunately, RedBug was snuggled up to me and he doesn't mind being hugged, so I held him and buried my face in his fur for awhile.  The other was a little after 5:00 - the time that Jeff brought me home.

While we were at Shands (and still thought Bob would survive), he had announced his intention that no matter how weak he was or how long it took, when he got home he was going to walk up the driveway.  So I had Jeff drop me off and made that walk for him.  I remember being overwhelmed at how beautiful it was, and how desperately I wanted to be home, and how even more desperately I didn't want to be coming home without him.  So at 5:00 I went down and made that walk, then sat on the bench and had a good cry.

I'm calmer now.  That weird feeling of still being in 2020 has dissipated.  I'm ready, loins girded, to face my new year.  Year 6.