Monday, May 13, 2001 - Babies, Birds, and Flowers

Last Monday, Dorcas went with Hannah to the doctor for a checkup for baby Aaron.  They discovered that the baby weighed 8 lbs. 14 oz.--down from the 9 lbs. 10 oz. he weighed when he was born--and he was two weeks old. 

So Hannah switched to Enfamil for him.  Poor little thing; no wonder he was so fussy, and acted so hungry all the time: he just plain was hungry!!! 

Babies need gauges on them; they really do.  I felt sorry for Hannah; I think it made her feel bad, to say nothing of just plain worried.  But it was not 24 hours after switching to Enfamil that little Aaron’s face was fuller and rounder; and two days later, his little hands and arms were plumper.

Thank goodness for such things as bottles, and for products like Enfamil!

That evening, the children went to the library.  They brought home a handful of videos and a pile of books.  They stuck one video into the player...  It was about the Holocaust.  I vetoed it, since I supposed there was the possibility that it might be worse than the little ones' worst nightmares.  That one I would watch on my own, first. 

They put another in, one I thought would be quite a good story--The Story of Helen Keller.  We were only five minutes into the story when Mrs. Keller discovered that her baby daughter couldn't see, and totally lost her marbles, shrieking and screaming and carrying on...  Good grief!  Nightmare City!  And there sat Victoria, right smack dab in front of the screen, eyes as big as saucers.  We got that out, posthaste, and decided that there was definitely something to be said for a good book.  Yikes.

At least one of the videos was a good one.

Tuesday morning the birds seemed to be warbling up a concertina...  The living room windows were open, and I could hear a cardinal whistling like anything, a robin scolding worriedly, a northern flicker alternately calling and pounding away at a nearby phone pole, a wren singing his pretty melodious song, several house finches trilling, a flock of English sparrows, and ... Kitty asking for food, “Mrrrroooowwwrr.”  Oh, and there was the wheezing chirp of a Brewer's blackbird.  And the noisy, raucous call of a blue jay...  Those birds are pretty, but they are the cannibals of the neighborhood, horrible things.  They not only rob other birds' eggs from their nests, they also eat the baby birds!  

That was eight different kinds of birds I heard, in just three minutes.  In the afternoons, I can hear the resident downy woodpecker, too, along with chickadees and chipping sparrows.  Sometimes we hear thrushes and a brown thrasher, and every now and then a hawk of one sort or another soars over.  In the evenings, the sky is filled with chimney sweeps.  I like these late days of spring.  

Dorcas has planted quite a few flowers, and I think I shall plant a few more this week.

We had a bit of a logistical problem here Tuesday morning:  Teddy's pickup, which was almost ready to be painted, was still at the shop where Teddy works, so Teddy drove Joseph's car.  Now, Joseph was concerned, because he would be needing his car immediately after school, so that he could go to work-----but, more than that, he needed his shoes right then--and they were in the car! 

So Teddy had to bring them home again.  Good thing it's not very far across Cornburg.

I am still cleaning and sorting in the basement, and, what with all the other necessary things to do, I’ll probably be at it for at least another month.  The pioneers didn’t know how well off they were, having only one set of clothes for dress-up, one set for everyday, one book per family, and a toy consisting of five interlocking notched sticks.  Just multiply that by a couple gazillion, and try cramming all that into a house built for two adults and 1.5 children.

One day Victoria told me, “My stomach really, really hurts.” 

“It does?” I replied sympathetically.  “What’s the matter with you?” 

           She tipped her head consideringly.  “I probably have a stomachache,” she answered.

           Larry has been helping David’s crews work on the tallest poured-cement wall (40-foot) they’ve done yet, at the Metal Industries.  The man who owns the place has recently bought an amazing piece of machinery into which entire old cars can be fed, and in a matter of minutes there are small, reusable balls of metal in one place, shredded fabric from seats and carpets and such in another, and glass in yet another.  You want to know the price?  

           Welllll…if you are having a bit of trouble selling a shabby old vehicle, and want one of those apparati, just to get rid of the jalopy quick-like, it’ll set you back a mere $4 million, that’s all.  But think of the fun you’ll have, going around town collecting icky old vehicles, and sticking them into your ‘machine’!

           Um, you might want to also invest in a fast vehicle with a nitrous oxide switch, if you do that.  To get away from the icky old people who own the icky old vehicles, when they come after you with icky old guns.

          Saturday afternoon, Keith called to tell me that he was just driving past Lake North, and about two dozen pelicans were soaring overhead, heading down toward the lake.  So we gathered up camera and kids and went out to Lakes North and Babcock.

         We drove all the way around Lake North, but all we saw were a few speed boats, and, at the other end, a raft of fishermen reeling in snags and tangles.  We went on to Lake Babcock, which is the prettier of the two lakes.  These lakes are owned by Loup Power District, and maintained to supply water and electricity to the city.  The Power District developed parks around the lakes where campers may avail themselves of free electricity, picnic tables, docks, playground toys, -- and three or four primitive outhouses.  The littles played for awhile on the toys.

         The waters of Lake Babcock follow natural contours, and all kinds of trees, tall reeds, and cattails line its banks.  Lake North, on the other hand, is a squarish, utilitarian body of water, bordered by a short retaining wall.  The beaches are graveled and steep, and I have never understood how anyone could enjoy walking barefoot along them.  

         Halfway along the curving road through Loup Park, around Lake Babcock, we thought we had spotted a couple of the pelicans on the far side of the lake.  We pulled over and lifted our binoculars.

No such luck; it was only a nesting station for water birds and a white paper bag.

         But all of a sudden we realized what was right under our noses, there at the water’s edge in front of us:  two Canada geese families with their goslings!  They were probably no more than a week old, for they were small and yellow and fluffy.  You can be sure, my camera was busy then!

         Proceeding farther into the country, we came to Larry’s cousin Arthur’s home.  Larry’s Uncle Clyde, Arthur’s father, boards a couple of horses at his son’s place, and we discovered that there was a brand-new colt--only a week and a half old.  Colts are funny to watch; they are prone to suddenly taking off like a shot for parts unknown, with no clear idea where they are going nor how to get there.  This little fellow didn’t stray far before rushing back to his mother’s side, however.  There is a natural spring in the pasture, and it creates a small stream there.  Once the little foal went bounding off through the tall grass, only to suddenly wind up ankle deep in the perimeters of the stream.  He came to an abrupt stop and stared down at his feet with an expression so like surprise that we had to laugh.

          The fields are full of newborn calves, too.  They are curious and cute, as they go racing along in ungainly exuberance, with their tails corked up stiffly.  Yes, I like spring!

          As we were driving along, Victoria was singing:  “He leaveth me, He leaveth me!  By His own hand, He leaveth me!  His faithful follower I would be; for by His hand, He leaveth me!”  (It’s supposed to be “He leadeth me.”)

          Saturday evening we ate supper at Pawnee Park.  Lydia played with a little girl named Sarah, who was soon laughing uproariously as Lydia played with her and pretended she couldn’t catch her; then pretended she couldn’t run fast enough to get away when the little girl chased Lydia. 

        That evening, Keith and Esther brought me a Mother’s Day present--a huge pot full of bright pink petunias.  It was exactly what I needed to put on the north side of the porch where somebody (we will mention no names) removed a perfectly innocent barberry bush with more brute strength and awkwardness than finesse.  ‘Transplanting’ it, he called it.  ‘Transplanting’, while he wrapped a chain around the bush and hooked the other end to his pickup.  ‘Transplanting’.  Ha!

        Joseph gave me a soft-feel gray pen…just the kind I like.  It looks like it’s made of suede.  Lydia and Hester made me ribbon and lace sachets filled with potpourri, and Dorcas made me a beautiful card with pressed flowers.  That Dorcas!  I think she’s been giving me Mother’s Day gifts at the rate of one per week for the past month!  First, it was a wreath she decorated for the outside wall near the front door.  Next, it was a photo album.  Then, if that wasn’t enough, she gave me a resin figurine of a lighthouse on a cliff.  It has a pool at the bottom, and water is cycled back up to the top to tumble down the side in a waterfall.  And it plays several pretty songs, too.

        Caleb made me a card with butterflies that pop up when it is opened.  Hester, Lydia, Caleb, and Victoria gave me two long-stemmed roses apiece, in all different colors, which made a beautiful centerpiece on the table--in the tall crystal vase given us by the McDonald girls.  Hannah got me a pretty red straw hat with a wide turned-up brim.  She put a cluster of red netting inside the brim at the back, and put a handful of white feathers into it.  That was exactly what I needed, for just Wednesday night I pulled my old red straw from my closet shelf, planning to wear it to church, and then finally decided that it was probably too dilapidated to wear one more time.  Deciding to save the trim on the back, I attempted to pull off the big pearl with the gold fluted edging--and wound up with the brim in my left hand, the crown in my right, and bits of crumbled red straw all over the floor.  Ooops.  

      Yep, that hat really was too dilapidated to wear one more time.

      After church Sunday morning, we took Mama her present:  a tiny musical birdhouse with butterflies all over it (one of those sorts of things that she needs no more of, but one of those sorts of things that I always wind up getting her), and a notebook with all my poems and many of my favorite pictures in 5x7.  

      Bobby, Hannah, and Aaron; Keith and Esther; and Amy came for dinner.  We had super-duper tacos, blueberry biscuits, cottage cheese (it’s good, even if it is a mistake of nature, as a friend of mine calls it) on lettuce with a half of a pear on top, and a maraschino cherry in the middle of the pear.  Dessert was a toffee ice cream bar. 

      Hannah told us that she’d been up until 4:00 a.m. with Aaron.  He finally went to sleep, so she tucked him into his bassinet and went to bed.  He woke back up at 4:30 a.m.  

      Hannah, exhausted, tried to awaken Bobby.  “Bobby, could you go get the baby?”  

      Bobby, bleary-eyed, asked groggily, “Where is it?”

      “It’s a baby,” said Hannah, pointing, “and it’s in its basket.”

       He finally woke up enough to go get the baby--and little Aaron didn’t go back to sleep until 7:30 a.m., when it was time to get up and get ready for church.

       Sunday night after church, we went to Lawrence and Norma’s.  We gave her a pink calla lily.  We gave her a gold pin, too, and didn’t notice until shortly before we arrived that the pin was a calla lily, too!  In the center of the flower’s trumpet is a pearl.  We also gave her a little pink stuffed heart sachet with lace around it with a little gold tack pin affixed to it.  

We gobbled down her scrumptious homemade cookies and ice cream, bid them adieu, went home, and sent everyone off to the feathers.  Or the hay.  Or the nonallergenic polyester fiberfill.

Today it is very windy…so windy that I had a hard time pedaling with Victoria’s carriage behind my bike.  When such a gale is blowing, I always head off into it and go until I can hardly go any farther…and then turn around and head for home as fast as ever I can.  You’d be surprised how fast a bike and carriage can travel with a 40 mph tailwind!  Victoria thinks this is great fun…and so do I. 

The littles are watching a video about Big Bend National Park in Texas…and I shall now watch it with them.

P.S.:  Here is a picture of our graduates as it appeared in the Columbus Telegram.