Why is it so difficult???

All I want is another pair or two of the jeans that really fit my body... why is that so much to ask??? A couple of years ago, I found The Perfect Jeans for my body at Target. They were called Blu Jeans and were made by Lee. I have worn the begeebers out of the pairs that I own, and so took a trip today to the local store, thrilled to know that The Jeans That Fit My Body like no other were there on the rack waiting for me.

Instead, all I found were Levi's and Mossimo jeans... what? No Lee Blu's? No, they no longer make them for Target it seems, and I am in mourning. I could literally just cry. There are so many styles out there. Mid-rise, low-rise, never-rise, embarrass-your-family rise, boot-cut, straight leg, relaxed fit, classic fit, darn-near fit etc. How on earth do you choose which to try? I am hippy (read... big tush as compared to my waist). Consequently jeans that fit me across the waist and tummy end up having a huge area sticking out along my lower back that one could fit several fists, or a small child in, which could come in handy were I planning more children. From the front, great... from the back, no way, no how. My body has never been made for Levi's and never will be. Lee Jeans are the only ones that I have ever found that really "fit" my body, and these Blu ones in particular made me feel as if I'd died and gone to jean heaven. Now, I am back in jeans-that-don't-fit hell... please deliver me.

Invasion of the fruit flies

"So, what's with all these brown gnats in the kitchen?" said husband the other night. I too had noticed teeny tiny flying gnat-like insects, mostly gathered... yes... around the bananas on the island. They were plentiful and pesky, sometimes just buzzing directly in front of our faces. Each day, no matter how many we smacked with our hands, there seemed to be more to replace them.

All of a sudden it hit me that a dear friend recently fought off an invasion of fruit flies and so I went on-line to read about these critters. Sure enough, there were my "brown gnats" with a sure fire way to eradicate them, other than frustratingly chasing them around smacking only air and stinging one's hands.

So, I created the "perfect trap" with a dollop of muscadine wine and a cute funnel just like the web site suggested. You can see the fine results in the cleaned out apple butter jar. Those dudes are suckers for sweet things and they all started flying right into the jar, promptly drowning in the sticky sweetness of the wine. Those who clung to the funnel were easily tapped down into the sugary mixture. Oh, well... at least their lives ended with a nice buzz surrounded by a lovely aroma. And I can stop walking around my house like an idiot slapping and popping the empty air.

Gaining/Losing an hour

Last night, I was tired. I mean, by 9PM I could have really just gone to bed and slept well. As I mentioned this to husband, we were watching the news and heard, "Oh, don't forget to turn your clocks back an hour tonight as Daylight Savings Time ends!" UGH. Husband laughed and said, "So, it's really only 8PM, and you don't want to go to bed now or you'll be up at 4AM."

I know there are many debates about why we still insist as a country on switching back and forth each fall and spring. Heck, Arizona and Hawaii just refuse to acknowledge it at all. Then again, they don't need extra hours of sunlight. It is nice in the summer that it does not get dark until 9PM, but I do hate that in the dead of winter, it's dark in the morning when we leave and usually by 6PM. It makes the cold seem even colder for some reason. Husband swears that each spring it takes him weeks to acclimate to the loss of that hour. I don't notice it so much really.

So, we went to bed last night at 9:30 (10:30PM body/brain time) and as expected, were up bright and early at 4:50AM. Methinks tonight I won't have a problem falling into a deep, restful sleep at our normal 10PM bedtime.

Like riding a bike

Yesterday, I went to work for the first time in a month. I had agreed to stay in the PRN pool for the wound center, specifically because I am HBO trained, and they could use someone to fill in now and again. When I worked in the wound center full time, I was back in HBO a good bit, but since I had left to do inpatient wound care, not so much. I no longer took call back there either as one nurse volunteered to take it all, so my exposure was scattered at best. But, it's like riding a bike. It all comes back to you. I dove five patients for 90 minute treatments yesterday and enjoyed it.

HBO is fascinating medicine really. It's the treatment of choice for decompression illness as well as smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning. However, there are many other indications as well such as traumatic crush injury, failed flaps and grafts, radiation tissue injuries, as well as the new indication for diabetic wounds. When the body is exposed to 100% oxygen at pressure, typically two atmospheres, or equivalent to being 33 feet under water, it has the property to almost liquefy the oxygen so that it can be dispersed into the tissues systemically. The effect is amazing for healing.

Now, the medical director back there wants me to become a certified HBO (CHRN) nurse. His goal is for everyone back there to be board certified. Ugh. I told him that I would only be working sporadically, but he said they could use me at least each Friday, which might not be so bad. Then I'd only have to find something maybe three days a week elsewhere. Something to ponder. It was nice to be back, in a different setting, wearing an old hat.

Fall on Chickadee Lane

Most of the trees behind our house are evergreen, which is nice for our privacy in the winter, but there are a few dogwoods and sour gum trees that have really been beautiful in the past few weeks. The mornings are really getting nippy now, and it was just wet enough in the past weeks to let the trees shine in their fall glory. On the highway I take each morning to take Sam to school, I marvel as I take in the sacred beauty of it all...


How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.
At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.

~~~Elsie Brady

Bye bye Bravenet

When I first started blogging, I wanted a counter to see just how many hits I'd had to my blog. It's fun to see how many people tune in on a regular basis each day. So, I went to Bravenet and copy/pasted the HTML code for their "free" counter. Of course, I soon found out that nothing is really free as soon as ads for Hoodia and Viagra started showing up in my junk email folder, but it was worth it to have a nice counter on my blog.

Recently, I have also been checking out the "referrers" tab out to see how people get to the blog. It's fun to see how people find you, and many times it's a Google search for some word that ends up bringing them to your door. Some referrals were from fellow blogger's sites which always made me smile as well. Recently however, I noticed referral sites I was not familiar with and when I clicked on them, my eyes were assailed with visions of very raunchy porn sites. Whaaaat??? How on earth did that happen???? So, it's bye-bye to the Bravenet counter for now. I'll just have to be content knowing that people do tune in and hope that my blog is not abused like this in the future.

Disguised blessings

From Kate Nowak's Heartfelt Blessing I received by email yesterday...


"If you cannot take it any more, now is the time to turn toward higher powers which can take anything." ~ Vernon Howard

Though it rarely seems like it at the time, arriving at that place in any situation where we simply can't take it any longer is really a very blessed place to be. Faced by a wall of our own construction, we've finally run out of options, and now can do nothing but shake our fists at the heavens and declare with typical Scarlett O'hara passion, "As God as my witness, I will not take this anymore!"

Of course, at the time, this seems anything but a blessing, but that is only because we cannot see what is going on behind the scenes. We do not hear the universal sigh of relief that follows our long awaited decision to relinquish control; we do not recognize the new born determination rising up from within to squash all vestiges of complacency; we do not see the angels rushing to our side to help make all things right; and we do not feel the footfall of our Inner Being as a dance of celebration takes place within our soul.

But that's what happenings behind the scenes. While we declare we will not take it any longer the entire universe is conspiring to see that we don't have to. Basically our cry of "I can't take it any more" is nothing more than the willingness of our little self to tell our Big Self, "I'm done. Please take over now."

And with joy and thanksgiving, Big Self does.

Those were the days

Today, Sam has an appointment with the kind Dr. N., a pediatric dentist, for a regular teeth cleaning. Because Dr. N. does Sam's cleaning himself, he asks that we come at 2PM before the after school rush, so that he can take his time, and Sam is less stressed. God does indeed bring special people into our lives for a reason. Getting our teeth cleaned has been a learned process, and though he does well for the most part, it still evokes some anxiety.

I told him that if he is patient and does well, we might be able to go by Target afterwards and find a treat. He smiled and said, "Mom, did you know that Sesame Street Old School comes out on DVD Tuesday?" Sesame Street Old School is apparently a new collection of shows from the first seasons which aired from 1969-1974 when we older people... ahem.... watched and loved it. Oh, how I remember getting home from school, turning on PBS and watching The Electric Company and Sesame Street. That is, until we got a tad older and Dark Shadows came along. Then, I went from being happy to see Big Bird to being scared that Angelique was in my closet at night. I must say I am looking forward to hearing the sounds of all the songs I learned by heart coming from his room and singing along with Cookie Monster.... "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me...."

A very wonderful (and viable) alternative

This weekend Barack Obama told Tim Russert that he may consider a bid for the White House. That brought me joy, though I can't imagine opening myself and my family up to the ugliness it brings out in people.

I have been impressed by him since the first time I saw him, and think that he is an "electable" alternative to the status quo. I shall pray for his discernment and for this nation to find a way to embrace a fresh start and a much needed different perspective.

Just knowing...

This from today's Forward Day by Day...

"...Someone very close and dear to us wonders how, with our education, we can subscribe to a religious faith. But she has never met a situation that she couldn’t handle with intelligence and competence. We wouldn't wish disaster on her, but she won't reach real maturity until she has to live through something she can't control."

So really, faith is a state of mind. It's just knowing that I can get through simply because I know I am not in control and I also know that I am not alone in all of this. Why would anyone not want that? Ah, but surrender is so difficult, isn't it? Faith = Mystery = Peace in being surrounded by grace...

P.S. A special thanks and have a great day to Beth for the heads up on Hem's Funnel Cloud which I am listening to at this moment... just glorious.

Almost finished basement

After almost two months of work, our basement is finally almost finished. As you come down the stairs, this is the larger side of the room which once had concrete floors, 2 x 4 institutional ceiling tiles, bright yellow walls, and grease stains on the floor. Now, the walls are a beautiful bagel color and all the trim is new and shining with bright white paint. There is new 18" tile and a nicer ceiling.

Just off this area is a new bathroom, which fully exceeded our expectations. The guy who installed the tile made it a work of art around the shower. There is access to this bath from the room as well as from in the garage which will be wonderful come pool season. No more walking through the house all wet. It's been an experience to say the least, and we are thrilled, albeit for a few more details, to be all done!

(I am less thrilled that I have spent an inordinate amount of time this morning trying to post this with two additional photos, experiencing the full lack of Blogger's cooperation! ARUGH!)

Birdies, come back!

(Goldfinch at the thistle feeder last month)

Last week, I decided I needed to treat the mulch around my feeder area with something to get rid of all the ants. Each time I sat down in the swing, they were crawling on and biting my feet. So, I went to Lowe's, got some spray and granules and treated the area just around the swing. I did NOT treat near the base of the feeders or the bird bath as I certainly did not want to risk making the birds sick. Yet, ever since then, I have had very few birds at my feeders at any given time. Even the house finches, who are abundant most days, have left.

Hmmm... but then there is also the issue of this renegade calico kitty who we've seen stalking around in the trees behind the feeders trying to pounce. I suppose I could blame it on him as well. Regardless, I miss all my birds and await their return.

"The dress" is here

My bridesmaid dress finally arrived last week and yesterday I went by to see my friend, Francis, the master seamstress. Because I am only 5'2" she had to literally see about chopping off 6 inches or so from the length... on all three layers (you can see how far it is draping over the step in front of me here). A daunting task, though not frightening to someone who has done this all her life. It fits like a glove and I feel beautiful in it. The Bride did a smashing job picking out this lovely creation.

I found some very comfy navy Naturalizer pumps (above right) which I should be able to walk in most of the evening without killing my feet. I am ready to dance the night away and celebrate the love and happiness of two dear friends come November 11!

Too beautiful for words

Sunrise off the deck on Chickadee Lane this past Sunday....

Rain, rain go away

So, the rain started yesterday, but it was just a drizzle on and off. But, last night it came a deluge with lots of wind. So much wind in fact that I had to take down my Feathered Friends Welcome Here chickadee off the front porch because I was afraid it might break being tossed about. During the night, I kept waking hearing the wind and the torrent of rain coming down the gutters so I did not sleep well. Finally this morning at 4:30, I was fully awake and trying so hard to get back to sleep. Then, at 5AM, our power went out. The phones and the back-up UPS for the computer started beeping, and Sam woke up as well. Sigh.... I got the flashlight and walked him down to our bedroom and tried to get him to lie down and go back to sleep, but DH got up to shower and so Sam and I just lay there talking about the poor men who would have to climb power poles in this downpour to fix things.

Once we got up, I made my way to the garage to find the three oil lamps I keep there for times like this, and we lit them and put them in the kitchen and the bedroom. We read the Bearenstain Bears books by oil lamps while we ate our breakfast. He finally went to sit on the couch and fell back asleep as I read the newspaper (with no coffee... ugh) and waited until it was time to leave for school.

This is what I know for sure... I do not like driving any longer in torrential rain. It was coming down in sideways sheets and there were huge puddles all along the road causing the car to hydroplane now and again. A nerve wracking drive to school to say the least. Now, I am home, the power is restored, coffee is in the pot, and I am ready for a nap?

Wildflowers abound...

What a very cool idea. I knew that there was something called the Georgia Wildflower Project, as it's on all the signs beside these fields, but was not sure about how it came to be until I did some Googling. All along the highways in the state of Georgia, there are huge patches of wildflowers blooming. Just recently, I noticed a wonderfully wild, huge batch along a stretch of I-75 as I was headed to church. They were purple and pink cosmos and it was like the field of poppies in the Wizard of Oz. You just want to stop your car, get out, and run wildly through them. Or, at the least, you want to just lie down in the center of them, do some cloud watching, then snap some memorable photos.

So, a tip of the hat to Mrs. Virginia Hand Callaway, who just knew that the world would be much lovelier with a little color along the roadways. It certainly makes me smile.

Ready for hibernation

It really hit me yesterday just how much all the hubbub has shifted life here on Chickadee Lane. Weeks ago, I ordered Anne Lamott's Blue Shoe, as I have dearly loved everything else she's written, and yet, there it has sat on my bedside table untouched. I have not been able to get into a book to read since our move in August. I have not been on the treadmill but once as it's been all folded up and moved out of the way of the basement renovation. I have had way too little quiet thinking time. Here I've been jobless for two weeks now, and yet it does not seem as if I have left work at all. Each day is full of things to do and get done. I am not nearly ready to go back to work yet, nor do I still have a clue what I might like to do. So much plate juggling... so little time to think. So much disconnect.

A good long hibernation, that's what I need. The weather is getting cooler each day, and the focus will be turned inward. A nice warm fireplace, my LLBean Wicked Good Clogs (the best slippers on the planet), a blanket over my legs in my favorite glider, a hot cup of hazelnut coffee, and dear Anne. That's exactly what I need... and not a moment too soon.

Chickadee Lane Chickadee

Finally... one arrived on the feeder and posed for a photo. They are so fast these little sweet birds. They swoop down, steal a seed, and fly away up into the trees to feast, all the while singing their chickadee-dee-dee-dee song. I just love them, and am glad they finally came to visit me on Chickadee Lane.

Spring surprise pots

A local garden center here has been advertising a special "Spring Surprise" pot sale this week. Seems they got the bright idea to plant bulbs in the bottom of a pot and to top it off with more soil and lovely, colorful pansies. Once the pansies start to lose their steam as spring comes, up comes a wonderful surprise of tulips or daffodils!




Well, I thought to myownself... couldn't I just do my own special surprise pots? And so, I did! I have three large green planters on the deck (had a few leftovers I had to put in the smaller terracotta pot), and I found this beautiful bag of mixed bulbs there at the check-out to split three ways and put in the bottom of each pot. I topped it off with their special Jungle Blend Potting Soil and then planted some of their very beautiful giant purple and yellow pansies to get me through the winter. By spring, I will be anticipating the arrival of three huge pots of spring blooms. How fun will that be? Takes so little to amuse me.

New definition

tedium n 1: the feeling of being bored by something tedious [syn: boredom, ennui] 2: dullness owing to length or slowness

The new definition? Rolling painter's putty in to teeny, tiny, wee miniscule little balls to fill nail holes in baseboards all around the room as your bottom scoots across a tile floor. Oh, joy... then the real fun begins when you go back to wipe off the excess. Don't get me started.

Because I can paint (really, I can) we decided to at least do that much in the finishing of our basement in order to save some money. But I can honestly say that I have taped, primed, puttied, and painted enough for a lifetime at this point, and am not nearly finished. Why? Well, because once we did the "new" side of the room, now the "old" side which was already finished (as well as all the existing doors) look like they need some major sprucing up as well. Baaawwwwwaaaaaaaa....

The guy came yesterday to put in the new drop ceiling tile and it looks splendid. It's still 2 x 4, but it's in smaller squares within the tile, so it looks much nicer and less institutional. We are awaiting the correct sized toilet (wrong size delivered last week) so that the plumber can seat it and the pedestal sink. Once he's done, the electrician can come finish up with installation of the fan, lights, etc. in the bathroom and we should be mostly D-O-N-E! It will add almost 1,100 sq. feet of living space, and will be a room to enjoy for my eternity here, because my next residence will be in a nursing home. I'll be the old lady in the corner rolling my fingers and muttering about painter's putty.

White blooming heaven

I wish there was something like a virtual aroma meter available on the computer just so you could smell these wonderful gardenia. Here on Chickadee Lane, the previous homeowners had planted several gardenia along the pool fence, which are growing nicely. They also planted one in the front bed towards the side of the house, and it's huge. It is just covered with these delectable white blossoms. I have been snatching a few here and there to put in a vase on my kitchen table. I can't adequately describe the delectable scent as I sit and read the paper each morning. After reading up on gardenia, it's no wonder that most products scented with gardenia don't really smell like this.






This from one web site... "The perfume of the gardenia has always been held as the ultimate luxury due to its very small yield (1 lb. of pure, absolute base from 3 tons of flowers)." How lovely then to be able to have these special little blooms and appreciate their intense bouquet while it lasts.

Yum-NOT

So, I am trying to figure out just what it is with me and cooking. I must have a mental block where it is concerned. I simply get so anxious that I'll not get it right, that typically, I don't. Yesterday, I was going to attempt yet another "30 Minute Meal" recipe from Rachael. I had gone to the store Saturday with my list of ingredients, and yet still ended up coming home with a green bell pepper instead of a red one? An omen of things to come.

I decided to get everything all chopped and peeled before I started, so all I had to do was to throw things in when it was time for it. Just FOLLOW the recipe, right? This recipe called for thin strips of sirloin to be seared, but as in true fashion, I neglected the tiny detail of cutting the steak medallions into strips before slapping it in the skillet. Once I realized my mistake, it was already getting browned nicely, and I had no room for the rest of the meat in the skillet. I quickly took it all out to cut it into strips, but by the time I got it all back in, along with the remainder of it to brown, it was cooking instead of sizzling, and was creating a frothy mess. I was supposed to then slide the meat to the side of the skillet and add a tad more oil before tossing in the peppers (which should have been red) and some red onions with assorted spices to cook for a bit before combining it all together in a stir fry type situation.

Meanwhile, I am cooking potatoes on the other eye. How hard can that be? Cooking potatoes. It called for four large russet potatoes, but the ones I had were rather small, and so I used six of them. I had cut them into cubes and set the timer for 15 minutes, as the recipe said. By the time I took the lid off to drain them, they were mush. I added the garlic, scallions, and sour cream, and hardly had to smash anything. I omitted the milk entirely else we'd have to have sipped them through a straw.

By this time, I was almost in tears. Sad, but true. Why does cooking get the best of me? What standard am I judging myself by? Why does it fill me with such anxiety? As I held back the tears, I plopped some potatoes on a plate, sprinkled them with cheddar cheese and topped it all with the steak, pepper, onion mixture. It tasted so bland. My poor husband, trying to be encouraging said, "Well, it's really filling."

I really want to try and do this, but one experience like this just negates anything positive about cooking entirely. Please tell me I am not the only one?

To V or not to V

vestry
n 1: in the Protestant Episcopal Church: a committee elected by
the congregation to work with the churchwardens in
managing the temporal affairs of the church


Yesterday, we had our yearly Blessing of the Animals festival at my church. It was a gloriously sunny, breezy day and there was a menagerie of animals there as well as cool tents to visit where the area zoo, companion animal service, and others were set up to educate about animals in our lives. We had one service yesterday at 9am and then spent time setting up everything before having lunch in preparation for the start time of 1:30pm.

It was an even more special day for me, because just a short year ago, I showed up on this particular day to visit this church for the first time. I arrived for the 8am service, only to be told that there was only one service that day because of the festival. I was welcomed to stay and have some coffee, and I did. I enjoyed the 9am service, but did not come back later in the afternoon for the festival. This year, I was asked to be on the committee and man the First Aid station.

Just before lunch, a group of us were outside chatting, when the circle grew to include many people I've come to know and like since I started attending this special church. That was when the "V" question was popped. Would I consider it? The annual meeting is coming up in November, and four members are rotating off. Oh, such a loaded proposition. In the best of circumstances (i.e. a healthy parish), it can be sometimes exasperating, but my experience in my last parish is still fresh in my mind. It led to my walking away for good. This is a fully different parish where there is growth along with healthy, strong leadership. Still, sometimes ignorance is bliss where the inner working of a church are concerned. I didn't tell them anything definitive one way or the other. I shall pray.

Open house day

Today, we are having an open house from 2-5 at our former home. We've had it listed with a realtor for going on four weeks now, and it's been shown... drumroll... once. Yes, one single, solitary time. No doubt about it, the market is saturated, and people have more choices than ever before. If your price is not competitive or something curbside does not appeal, you can kiss any serious lookers good bye.

In this particular neighborhood, there are over 20 homes for sale, and ours is in the "older" section, even only being eight years old. I've gone by each week to keep the porch plants watered and to weed out the beds and check on everything. It seems as if we've been gone from there forever, and we are ready to have it be someone else's responsibility. Yesterday I went to clean up a bit, and I threw open all the windows to air it out nicely. I vacuumed, wiped down counters and Swiffered to make it shine and smell very clean. All it needs is just one interested family. The only thing I have not done is to bury St. Joseph in the yard. Sigh... we'll see how the open house goes. Any and all prayers are welcome and appreciated.

Wolfcraft Arts has arrived!

Following your dreams is important. Knowing when to listen to your heart, even more so. Taking a leap of faith to embrace this dream, just plain brave and splendid!

So, it is with both awe and pride that I get to share with you that Wolfcraft Arts has been launched!

Check out my dear friend Anne's talented eye for creating handmade cards, prayer beads, and photo cards... and support someone who inspires others to listen to their hearts.

Love, grace, and faith

Outside the front door of my church each Sunday, there is a table set up for our "marketplace." People donate home grown vegetables or hand made crafts and there is a basket there for donations which go to outreach. There is no price placed on the items. People just give what their spirits lead them to give.

Last Sunday, I saw that some talented person had created these beautiful garden stones and placed them on the table. There were many more words to choose from, but these three just sum up my life to a huge degree, and I was immediately drawn towards them. I knew just the perfect place for them too. At the base of my bird bath so that as I sit in my swing, I can meditate on them. We've since added more mulch, and I've gently buried them down into it a bit. So there in my swing with my birds and the breezes blowing, I am surrounded by love, grace, and faith. Pretty perfect to me.

49 years ago today...

A sweet goldfinch for my wonderful mom and dad, who 49 years ago this very day said their "I do's" and then went to a Tennessee Vanderbilt football game. She was a sweet 20, just out of nursing school, and he was a older, wiser 25 year old. He says, "She just needed me." She says, "He was a blind date, and was so cute." Regardless, they set up house, and created a life for themselves. They had two daughters, and nurtured a home based on honesty and love.

"Don't ever forget," they'd tell me, "we will always be your best friends." And, so they are. My friends, my mentors, my rock and my support team, through thick and thin.

Happy Anniversary Mother and Daddy... I love you, oh yes I do.

Looking onward

(From a visit to Cheekwood Botanical Garden)

Well, I had an interview with the big hospice organization yesterday, only to find that PRN still would mean traveling to all 18 counties they serve, and never seeing the same people twice. As I listened to the team leader explain it all to me, it was as if I was sitting there in a fog. I really had heard all I needed to hear, and knew that this was not for me. So, onward we'll go.

I had a nice conversation with the administrator of a large outfit in town who offers a sub-acute rehab unit, and does a good bit of complicated wound care. Before I left my job, I had spoken with their hospital liaison who told me she was sure they'd love to have me. He was very kind, told me she had really been impressed by me, and was excited about the possibility of my working for them, so we've set up an interview for Friday at 10. I also have an iron in the fire at another smaller hospital (affiliated with the one I left) and am awaiting hearing from their administrator. So, we shall see.

In some ways, I wish I could just have enjoyed this first week away without feeling the need to start looking so heavily, but having nothing lined up is stressful in its own sort of way. So much change so fast. It's all catching up with me, and I found myself very melancholy yesterday. But, I know it will all work out the way it is supposed to eventually. And, in the meantime, I am enjoying pretending to be Rachael Ray. Last night's Cheddar Tex Mex Meatloaf Patties with Smashed Chive Potatoes and Spicy Pan Gravy were a huge hit. More meals like that and my husband will want to keep me home.

Takes so little

Well, it takes so little to excite me. I was in the swing last night hoping the chickadees of Chickadee Lane would come visit, when I caught a blur out of the corner of my eye. My lens moved towards the right of the feeder where I was focused, to see this beautiful vision.







A very sweet White-breasted Nuthatch flew onto the suet feeder to have a nice taste of nutty suet. I realize that they are a more common bird to see at feeders, but where I used to live, we had no tall trees, and thus I never saw one. Looks like this is a male as his cap is more black.




As I sat there, he must have come back ten or so times to get some suet or seed. I so enjoyed looking at the stunning arrangement of his plumage as he bent over the feeder. Like I said, it takes so little to excite me and bring me joy, especially when I am on that swing. What a priceless investment in my joy quotient.

A cool drink of water

This little finch made my day by stopping to check out my new bird bath. A nice sip of cool water after gorging on sunflower seed. That's a bit how I feel today as I sit here in civilian clothes with no job... like I am ready for a long, cool drink of water. A much needed break from the desert. My spirit and soul was a bit dry. Dry and weary.

Isn't it amazing how long we'll go on in the desert before we even realize we're thirsty? It's as if your body gets used to the dehydration. Deep inside you are longing for water, yet ignoring that fact. We just keep trudging along, thinking things will feel better, be better, and yet it's only when we really see that oasis awaiting us that we can stop long enough to feel the thirst. Oh, but once you feel the thirst, that drive is primal. There is a corner you turn where you know you don't want to feel thirsty again, and so you take steps to hydrate your spirit. That's where I am right now, and what I'll be thinking about these next weeks as I decide where I want to be in order to quench my thirst.

From the cedar swing cam

Yesterday, it was a beautiful sunny day, and I decided to have my afternoon cuppa hazelnut out in the cedar swing. I took my camera, just in case anyone wanted to visit with me a while, but with it being early afternoon, I was not expecting much company.

Then I heard the squeaky call of the Brown Headed Nuthatch and was thoroughly entertained as he kept flying in to steal a seed which he would then take up into the trees to crack open and enjoy. He perched so nicely for this photo and it was a joy to spend some time with him. Made the afternoon coffee taste even sweeter.