Took my grandsons for a fast food breakfast last year as a treat before school. I knew if I put out tidbits, birds would come but I was expecting seagulls and look who we got! It did feel a little like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” but it was also very cool.
Some of the photos are better than others but each shows something particular about Crows, my favorite bird!
And then at our mountain retreat one time on a walk, I came upon this scene.
Something had spooked this rafter of turkeys and they were very anxious to get on the other side of this fence!
So one by one, with what seemed like it should have been monumental effort, they gracefully flew to safety.
Well, one guy was a little distracted I think…
I thought they had all made it over but then spotted a very distressed youngster, running up and down the fence line, frantically gobbling. He was the last one left and I swear he was saying “Hey, wait for me! I’m not sure I can get over! Help!!”
He did finally make it but it was close and clumsy! Whew!
I have waited for so many years to catch turkey flight on camera. This day I hit the jackpot!
I know it will seem lazy or like I’m cheating, but I really do want to participate in Nancy’s Challenge. It’s just that I seem to do a LOT of posts on Blue and I’m not sure I can come up with anything new to share.
So here is one I did most recently…and at the end I’ve included several others I did on the topic Blue.
She says: I will post four or five different questions each week for you to answer.
Are you an Early to bed, early to rise person, a night owl and day sleeper/dozer, or an ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ person?
I don’t. Sleep that is. Well, I do, I mean I must, right, or I wouldn’t still be here at 70. But I have never been able to pull off anything considered normal or regular, apparently not since I was 18 months old. So it was perfect to have a job for almost 40 years that had me “on call” 24/7.
My sleep record in recent years is almost 5 hours in one stretch. Usually it’s way less. I often sleep in two segments…2 hours in, I wake up and am ready to roll since my body thinks we’ve just had this great nap. I trick it, into thinking we are up for the duration and do something inane for a while and then we go back to bed and usually pull off a longer stretch.
For the last 18 years I have had an almost daily NAP! A ritual started as a way to connect with my slightly feral cat. We got to the place where I could say, “Zorro, wanna take a nap with me?” and he would beat me to the bed…and then wait for me, no matter how interrupted I had been.
Zorro passed away in September from kidney disease.
I have not had a nap in 82 days. I still can’t do it……
I get really wordy when I haven’t slept. Can you tell what kind of a night I had last night?
What are some misconceptions about your hobby, should you have a hobby?
Uh, I raise Giant Spiny Australian Leaf Bugs that get to be about 8 inches long.
What do YOU think of that?
A penguin walks through the door right now wearing a sombrero. What does he say and why is he here?
Dance lessons start in five!
Aliens have landed…do they come in peace?
They’re not Here, They’re not Coming
From the Arizona desert
To the Salisbury Plain
Lights on the horizon
Patterns on the grain
Anxious eyes turned upward
Clutching souvenirs
Carrying our highest hopes
And our darkest fears
They swear there was an accident
Back in ’47
Little man with a great big head
Splattered down from heaven
Government conspiracy
Cover-ups and lies
Hidden in the desert
Under endless skies
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No time for heroes, no place for good guys
No room for Rocky The Flying Squirrel
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your weary eyes back homeward
Stop your trembling, dry your tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Would they pile into the saucer
Find Orlando’s rat and hug it?
Go screaming through the universe
Just to get McNuggets?
Well, I don’t think so, I don’t think so
It’s much too dangerous, it’s much too strange
Here in a world that won’t give Oprah
No home on the range
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No authenticity, no sign of soul
The radio won’t play George and Merle
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
‘Til we put away our hatred
‘Til we lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my sister
They’re not here, they’re not coming
To this garden we were given And always took for granted It’s like my daddy told me “You just bloom where you’re planted.” Now you long to be delivered From this world of pain and strife That’s a sorry substitution For a spiritual life
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No place for sentiment, no room for romance
Bring back the Duke of Earl
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your hopes back homeward
Hold your children, dry their tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
‘Til we put away our hatred
And lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Lyrics from Genius
What are you really, incredibly thankful for this week?
My husband, my son Michael, my grandsons Julius and Luca, all of whom live with me in a house I have owned for 43 years.
I don’t know how I could be any more grateful for a building than I am for this 110 year old, funky, maze of a house that has supported me, more than 40 other people and countless animals living here over all these years.
All I can think of is the old Woody Allen movie “Everything you Always Wanted to Know about Sex”, where Woody, standing at the front of the line of about to “escape” sperm, shouts a warning to all the others,
“Go back, go back! It’s just a hand job!” Or something like that.
It’s late November and 30 degrees here!!!!
“Go back, go back, my Sweet Primroses!! It’s a Weather TRICK!! It’s not even close to Spring yet!!!”
We have this one really dark hallway in our 100 year old house…so dark that we had to install an extra light. This zigzag shaped hall is about 9 feet long and is pitch black in the middle of the day.
Off the hall are the doors to a bathroom, two bedrooms, a floor to ceiling linen closet and a long pantry…making a total of 8 doors in this small space.
This hallway was a frightening to my son when he was very young so we transformed it from the “scary dark place” to the special “room”, made especially for checking out all the “Glow in the Dark” things Mom could find; toys, stickers, sports shoes, and even a couple of t-shirts.
Once he was no longer afraid of the “dark place”, it became a favorite indoor playground. He learned which of the doorways he could “climb”, frog-walking up the openings to see how high up and for how long, he could suspend himself in that doorway.
And he discovered early on that because of the shape of the tall linen closet (it was angled due to the stairway to the basement located behind and below it) he could climb the shelves and shove himself into the larger, top-shelf space, plenty big enough for a kid.
Pulling the door closed behind himself, he could curl up and hide, and apparently even sleep in there. (My son has now taught his sons all the secrets of this hallway.
Here’s what part of the “scary dark place” looks like with the lights on.
I try to write a Thank You letter to the Veterans in my life, every year on this day…also on Memorial Day.
I also have to admit when I started writing these yearly notes, I did so from a place of “universal guilt”… a cousin to that instant feeling I have when I spot a traffic cop following me, even when I know I didn’t do anything wrong.
“something happening here…”
But I realized a few years back that though many of my generations’ brothers and sisters treated each other poorly…well, horrifically…during the conflict over the Vietnam War and its Veterans, I personally never threw pig’s blood at a returning soldier.
Like many of my peers at the time, I didn’t really understand who exactly to be mad at- the military vets, or those who drafted them.
“what it is ain’t exactly clear”
So I focused my energy on Peace instead.
I was that girl with a wreath of flowers in my hair, who shoved daisy’s into barrels of the guns of local law enforcement, clad in riot gear. Young men about my same age, I have to add, who were just doing their own confusing jobs.
“there’s a man with a gun over there”
In the 1990’s I tried to open my mind to a new generation of returning veterans, so badly wanting them to have a different experience than those brave men and women, drafted or not, returning from Vietnam.
And then 9/11 happened and did a permanent number on my heart and soul. It was the birth for me of a new level of awareness. People the world over were responding to “attack” event with such dark black or white hot absolutism.
That all coincided with my father’s death so his lessons to me as a kid naturally came rushing back with a warm, loving vengeance. I considered, for the first time really, what he had been trying to say.
There is always more than one way to look at something.
“nobody’s right and everybody’s wrong”
So now, if I say thank you to a stranger in a military uniform, or when I send out my gratitude, in a note or blog post, I feel no guilt. I still don’t like or understand war, but I have room in my head and heart now for many, many more ways to fight for peace.
And I am grateful, and deeply respectful for those who choose the military (and law enforcement) as their vehicle to accomplish that.
This year, my sweet James wrote the letter below to his family. He and his siblings have had a wonderful, daily tradition, thanks to their 96 year old mother’s deathbed request. She insisted that they all stay in touch, even though they have lived across the country from each other. The emails to each other, all these years later, is one of my favorite all- time uses of the internet.
James says I can share today’s note with you too. (I have altered it only to remove other people’s personal stuff.)
Today, we remember those of us who have served and died in service to freedom of expression, religion and political choice. I must admit that I am distressed by the present political situation in this country and the direction we are taking. Having said that, I honor all men and women who have participated in protecting us and giving us the right to chose our lives in a turbulent world where such freedom is becoming less and less available. I have heard from the men I served with in Nam and am reminded of the quality of men I was lucky enough to have shared that experience with.
I had a fun trip to the islands. He picked me up at the ferry landing. We did a couple of errands in town, then joined a group of men for
The Stand Up Men Against Domestic Violence
on the courthouse lawn to remind citizens that violence against domestic partners is not acceptable as a solution to personal problems. These men have been doing this every Friday for the past four years. They organized after a couple of domestic violence deaths on the island reminded them how prevalent this problem is in our society. Two deaths were recorded there in the past twelve months so it continues to be an important issue for those who suffer at the hands of their partners.
These guys are truly Veterans of their own local “war” against domestic violence. And they deserve to be honored, celebrated!!
Afterward, we went home where we a nice lunch and we relaxed the rest of the afternoon. About five pm, started a fire in the fire pit and we sat around with an adult beverage until men began to show up for the poker game. By seven, there were eighteen men there. We adjourned to the poker tables and played poker ’til around ten thirty, then back to the fire pit for another round of chat before everyone trickled away for home. We cleaned up the poker mess before retiring sometime between twelve thirty and one am.
(I included the description of their gathering after because it demonstrates for me that there are many really wonderful men in the world, a message not so clear in the media these days. Their “Poker Game” has been a monthly tradition in this smaller community for around 20 years. They rotate the home where it takes place. They have what they call a “Party Bag” (different from a Gift Bag) where each person throws in some of the money they win (they play with quarters) and the money is used for things like replacing the worn out felt on their vintage poker table, or, get this, a nice night on the town with the wives! These guys also golf together, and once a year, they take the Poker Game to a beautiful mountain town many miles away, for a retreat weekend of golf and poker.
I love the men in this small town. I have witnessed several times over the years, how one guy can put out a call for help (or not put it out) and the rest just show up, barn-raising style. It’s just the way they live.
James ends his letter with:
We plan on accepting Applebee’s free dinner for Veteran’s this afternoon. My worker, John is a Navy vet so he’ll get a free meal too.
Again, thank you to all who served, men and women, who made the choice, regardless of their reason. It was a precious, brave and probably unbeknownst to you at the time, a healing decision to make for all of us.
There’s something happening here
What it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
There’s battle lines being drawn
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
It’s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side
It’s s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
