Journal: For the Birds

That 65-mph wind a week ago last Saturday evening knocked a bunch of little peaches off our peach tree.  That tree produces the most scrumptious peaches... but it has at least one dead branch, and other branches are stressed when the peaches are ripe and heavy.  I should get another one planted before this one kicks the bucket.  But... it was given to us, and I have no idea what specific kind it is.  Did you know that there are over 300 varieties of peaches (Prunus persica) that grow and flourish in the United States, and over 2,000 varieties globally?  The fruit is native to China.

After thinking all the bird nests were safe last week, I have come to the conclusion that one of the mama robins has abandoned her nest.  The nest still looks fine from my vantage point at the second-story window, all nicely intact.  It’s right in the sun, all day long.  The robin would sit with her beak open most of the day.  I wonder if that had anything to do with her premature departure?  Or maybe something happened to her.  Or maybe she decided to rebuild on a branch that sways less in the wind.  Who knows.  At least there weren’t any babies that got abandoned.

I saw a bird flash past the kitchen window, looked out – and saw that a robin and a starling were both in the birdbath at the same time.  The starling can get right down into the water in the bigger dish and splash around, but the larger robin has a hard time fitting.  She winds up standing on the rim and flailing wildly, which really doesn’t get water on her at all.  She tries hopping over to the center dish, but can’t stay perched; it’s too small for her. 

Finally she jumped up to the top dish, stood there sizing up the situation, and then stuck her head into the spray.  She backed up, then snapped at the fountain with her beak, tipping her head this way and that, looking quite a lot like a puppy playing in the sprinkler.

Over at one of the flowerbeds, a starling found a long, dried piece of crabgrass, complete with seeds and roots, that I had pulled out and missed picking up.  She wanted the feathery top part of it, but the stalk and roots were following along behind her, everywhere step she took.  Feathery seed pods in beak, she turned and looked back in disgust at the pesky stalk that kept a-coming.  Finally she stood on that stalk with both feet and then gave a sideways jerk of her head.  Voilá!  She had the feathered seed pod she wanted.  With that, she flew off towards the roof.  Was she rebuilding her nest?  Oh, brother!  She landed in the gutter!!  I certainly hope she’s not thinking of building there.  Birds can be notoriously short-sighted and birdbrained.

A few minutes later, I spotted a little English sparrow drinking out of the new birdbath.  They had avoided it all the previous day.  I told Larry they were telling each other, Look out for that blue thing with the water in it!  It’s a BIG TRAP!!!

It wasn’t long before other birds joined the sparrow.  The blue birdbath was officially open for business!

But I couldn’t watch the birds all day!  (Or could I?) 

I dashed off to pop the last load of clothes into the dryer, and fold and put away the dry things.

Then I trotted up to my quilting studio to work on the New York Beauty pillow shams.  I took with me the new cat beds my sister Lura Kay gave me after they had to put their kitty to sleep.  I put the new beds under the frame in my quilting studio, in the same locations I usually put the cats’ old familiar beds.  Tiger tried his out first.

His climbing in and getting hizseff sitchee-ated looked a lot like when a toddler tries to sit on a small stool:  he walks up to it, sizes it up, turns around... and around... and around... and sits – ker-plop on the floor, ’cuz he missed the stool.  He gets up and stares reproachfully at the stool.  Why did you jump out from under me, you stool you?!

In the same way, after inquisitively sniffing in the center of the bed, Tiger then ker-plunked down without moving forward to center himself, and he wound up sitting on the ‘wall’ of the bed, which caused the other side to pop up into the air, almost in his face.  He stuck his ears straight out to the side in an ‘oops’ attitude. 

He would’ve stayed there, looking properly oopsified, but I had to run downstairs for something, and he almost always has to come too, ker-ploppity-ploppity-plop down the stairs behind me; and then he decided to go outside, and I didn’t see him again for a few hours. 

Later, he checked out the other pads Lura Kay gave me, which I’d positioned in corners of my quilting studio and on the landing.  After a thorough sniff-over, he pumped his paws up and down on them, signifying that he did like them.

Soon Teensy came along, checked the bed that was in his usual place, got in, and laid down in it.  Or at least he tried.  But... our cats are bigger than John H. and Lura Kay’s cat was!  Teensy wound up with his entire rump hanging out of the bed.  He stayed like that for a little while, then with an I give up! sigh, he went and sprawled on the rag rug.

After a while, ♫ ♪ The Cat Came Back ♪ ♫.  Tiger, that is.  He stood and looked at his new bed.  He debated.  He clambered into it...

Annnnd...

He fits!  Sorta.  Almost.  Barely.  😅

He was soon so sound asleep, he was snoring.  In his sleep, probably dreaming he was chasing a cottontail, he kicked against the wall of the bed and nearly shoved himself straight out of the thing backwards.

Rousing enough to look a bit sheepish, he turned around, got himself situated in a tighter curl, and then he fit fairly well.

Teensy returned, stared at Tiger in the new bed, strolled over to his new bed, and stood there gazing at it for a few moments.

He got in.  He turned.  He curled.  He laid down.  Ahhh!  Success.  He was in there, neat as a pin.  He was soon fast asleep.

And then he stretched.

With that, cat, bed, and all tipped up and fell over.

But the cat slept on.

If they can just remember to curl up and stay put, they’ll be fine!  😅

A friend was telling about looking out the window at her place of business in an inner city somewhere, and spotting one of the local hoodlums preparing to spray-paint his signature on the bricks on the side of the building.

She hit a button that began raising a large hydraulic parcel lift immediately beside the lout.  It commenced to rumbling and rattling, clanging and clanking, and squealing and squawking in its usual cacophonic manner.

The street bum then commenced to doing a series of impressive jigs, tangos, and boogies some feet aboveground, until gravity got the better of him.  He hit the ground running and hasn’t been seen since.

Once when I worked in the office of the First Presbyterian Church in Schuyler, I looked out the window and saw some half- to partially-grown kids exploring around my Yukon.  One was just reaching up to mess with the side-view mirror.  I pushed the panic button on my key fob, which set the horn a-blare.

After running in place in midair for a few moments, they regathered their wits and ran pell-mell down the street like they’d been shot out of a cannon.

Late Wednesday afternoon, the male mourning dove joined the female at the nest.  (He’s the one closest to the camera.  You can tell it’s the male by the larger body, the slight blue cast to the head, and the pinkish hue on the throat.)

Both sexes incubate. The male does so from morning to afternoon, and the female the rest of the day and all through the night.

I’m not sure what the male is doing here at the nest, but I think he came to discuss shopping for a new butterfly net.  They talked about it at length, got into an argument, fussed for a bit, and then abruptly flew away, both at the same time, leaving the nest unattended, an unusual occurrence.  They probably went to a marriage counselor.

They evidently resolved their marital issues, for the female was soon back on the nest. The male was probably over in the nearby pasture, playing with his new butterfly net.

Did you know that doves mate for life – but their lifespan is only about 1 ½ to 2 years?  In captivity, however, they can live 20 years!  Just another example of the verse that says, “The whole creation groans...”

A lot of the bigger birds mate for life, such as vultures, eagles, albatrosses, swans, macaws, cranes, condors, puffins, geese, etc.  Among the songbirds, there are cardinals, various types of jays, wrentits, and titmice, to name a few, who also mate for life.

On the other hand, ornithologists, through DNA tests, have determined that there are often multiple fathers for one clutch of eggs, in many breeds; and in a particular neighborhood, one male bird might be the father of many nests of baby birds.

Isn’t it interesting, learning about birds? I’ve always thought God was enjoying Himself, when He created the birds, with all their varied colors and sizes and characteristics. 😊

Do you ever find yourself on so many online lists (all of them ‘important’, of course) that you wind up heartily agreeing with Solomon when he said, “And further, by these, my son, be admonished:  of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.”  I never have time to read all the messages I get from devotional, quilting, embroidering, and EQ8 lists.  But about the time I remove myself from a list, I need to read something on that very list.  🤔

After church that night, we went to Wal-Mart for a few necessities, including iron-on interfacing for the borders of the New York Beauty pillow shams.  We also got a clock that will make a nice wedding gift for one of the upcoming weddings at our church.  I think there are three weddings scheduled, unless I’ve forgotten one.  My great-niece Danica will be getting married August 4^th.

Thursday morning, I spent an hour and a half working in the yard.  Then, after scrubbing all the dirt and bug spray off and eating some breakfast, I headed upstairs to finish the New York Beauty pillow shams.  The project would be done that day!

The cats seem pleased when they follow me upstairs and find the new cat beds.  Tiger has decided he likes this cozy fleece mat, too:

Teensy, meanwhile, slithered happily into the long box that the king-sized pillows for the New York Beauty pillow shams were shipped in, and there he took his nap.

Shortly before midnight, I was done!  Alllll done. Finished!  It’s been an enjoyable project, but I’m always pleased to finish one endeavor and start another.  More pictures here.

It sure doesn’t take very many aches and pains to put a body out of commission, does it? I hurt my shoulder last week putting mulch in the wheelbarrow with a pitchfork, and it didn’t have time to heal before I did it again. Now it hurts to put my arm into a sleeve or take it out again.

Next, I worked in the flower gardens too long again and got a headache/neck ache that lasted several days. Thankfully, the headache is gone now.

Then that night at suppertime, I pulled a Saran-wrapped bowl from the microwave using one of those thick rubber potholders – but the potholder punched through the Saran wrap, and steam shot up onto my thumb.  Hours later, it was still burning like crazy.  I stopped what I was doing every now and then, and stuck the thumb into a bottle of cold liquid Aloe Vera.  Ahhhh...  I just wished the relief would last a little longer.

One time some years ago, I tripped over the fireplace poker ------ and caught myself by putting my hand – my right hand, mind you, and I’m right-handed – down on top of the wood-burning stove, which was in full burn.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa...  I was sewing Bobby and Hannah’s Mariner’s Compass quilt at the time, and Christmas was coming fast, and I didn’t have time to spare.  So I put a bowl of ice water beside my machine, and stuck my hand in it every few minutes, then proceeded on.

After taking pictures of the finished pillow shams, I happily retired to the recliner, put a heating pad behind my back, and watched some youtube videos on traveling by ‘Traveling Robert’ as he went through Death Valley, California.  I had thought it was a terrible, awful, ugly place – but boy oh boy, was I ever wrong!  There are many unique and beautiful scenes there, with a varied topography in a much larger area than I’d realized comprised that National Park.

Friday, the major housecleaning began.  I gave the kitchen a lick and a promise, then vacuumed all the rugs on the main floor.  I went out to refresh the birdbaths and got totally swarmed by mosquitoes.  Ugh!

The Schwan man arrived with two big bags of frozen foods I’d ordered.  We would have a yummy supper that night!  I took a little break with a cup of San Marco’s Caramel Sundae coffee while I posted some pictures on Instagram and Facebook.  I emailed the quilt appraiser in Harlan, Iowa, to ask when she could look at my quilt.  She answered a few hours later, telling me that she was going to be at a quilt show in Omaha Friday and Saturday, and could meet me at the La Vista Conference Center across the Interstate from Cabela’s.  That will be only 85 miles, instead of the 125 miles to the lady’s house.

Appraisals are necessary for insurance purposes, so that if anything should happen to the quilt, Jeremy and Lydia will get what it’s worth, instead of merely the price of a cheap blanket at Wal-Mart.  Also, it ups a quilt’s value at quilt shows, when it’s been appraised.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening, I carried about a dozen boxes full of books from the basement up to the second floor, and got two bookcases filled.  I found several of my favorite cookbooks; those went into one of the bookcases on the main floor, nearest the kitchen.  I watered the houseplants... washed a couple loads of clothes... and carted two boxes and a big bag full of stuff out to the Jeep to take to the Goodwill.  A handful of books will go back to the kids to whom they belong, along with a pretty bag containing a crocheting project and the book with the instructions.

AND! – I found the baby quilt I made for Lydia when she was a baby.  I washed and dried it, and the next day I took pictures of it.  That quilt is 28 years old!  It has at least three, and more likely four, layers of extra-loft poly, and there’s a giant bunny appliquéd on the front, complete with a ruffly outfit and floppy flannel ears and feet.  On the back, there’s a wide border that’s rouched all the way around.

You know, I might’ve guessed that we would have company Saturday, the day before Father’s Day.  But... I went right ahead and started thoroughly cleaning the bathroom.  Just as I was finishing up the chandeliers, and had dust bunnies all over my head, top, and skirt, Kurt, Victoria, Carolyn, and Violet came visiting, bringing a yummy pumpkin dessert still warm from the oven. 

After they left, I returned to the bathroom cleaning.  Finishing some of the more topical things, I launched into the cubbyhole. 

When I’m cleaning, I go back and forth the entire time:  Gotta get rid of stuff!  Don’t like it... got too much stuff anyway... make this place tidy! ........ And then, a couple of hours later, ... I might need this.  Mustn’t waste anything; it would cost $$$ to replace it!  An hour later:  Ugh, can’t stand all this stuff!  Donate, donate, throw it out, throw it out, donate. And so it goes.  🤪

I’d succeeded in dragging out several boxes and bins, littering both bathroom and hallway with stuff even creeping into the living room, had filled a plastic bag with things for the Goodwill and taken a few empty camera bags and duffle bags out to the Jeep, when we had more visitors.

Joseph, with his two children, Justin, 7, and Juliana, 5!  Joseph lives in Bellevue now (suburb of Omaha), having moved back to Nebraska from Fort Knox, Kentucky.  Joseph’s wife Jocelyn didn’t come, as she had to work that night.  Joseph is out of the army now after 14 years, and working as a broker for JJT Transportation.

We had a good visit, and the children had lots of fun going for rides in Larry’s RZR.

Joseph texted both Larry and me this morning to say that Justin was already asking yesterday if they couldn’t please come back and visit, so he could have another ride in the RZR.  😊

I got up and dressed for working in the yard this morning, walked to the front door, opened it ---- and discovered it was raining.  So I went and took a bath and washed my hair instead.

I went to the pet clinic and picked up Teensy’s medicine for hyperthyroidism a little while ago.  I ordered it at 11:30 a.m. or so, yet the lady told me I could pick it up this afternoon.  I told you that new ‘you-must-order-refills-24-hours-in-advance’ policy would never fly!

After no rain during the afternoon, it suddenly rained hard for a few minutes this evening.  Now the grass is very green, new flowers are blooming – and the weeds are growing like, uh, like weeds.

We had Schwan’s pizza for supper, and Larry brought home kolaches from the Clarkson Bakery for dessert. 

I heard a sort of ruffling noise... looked around... thought about the hummingbird moth that had come in Saturday night, peered out the front window to see if it might be Teensy wanting in, remarked to Larry regarding the moth, “I haven’t seen it since ----” and then AAAAaaaaaaa!!! – there it was on the window frame, about six inches from my face!

I did what those who know me would expect:  I ran for the camera and the macro lens.

Have you ever looked in the face of a sphinx moth up close, eyeball to eyeball?

We put him outside, but he fluttered down to the front porch, and seemed too weak to fly.  Knowing he’d been in the house for two days with no nectar, I mixed up a spoonful of sugar water and poured it out in front of him.  Soon he was spreading his wings and walking... and the next time I looked, he was gone.

Now Larry is working on his pickup, trying to get the clutch to quit slipping, the brakes to work evenly with his flatbed trailer, and the turn signals to stop blowing fuses – because tomorrow we’re taking it first to Lincoln for his dental appointment (that is, we’re driving the pickup, to the dentist’s office; it’s Larry who has the appointment with the dentist, not the pickup) (English, tsk); and then we’ll go to a town in Kansas called Victoria, to pick up a baler he bought on an online auction.

Time for bed!

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,