Okay, so part two
Continuation,
with a lift ☺
Still a tad grumpy, but not as much at all
Still, bad air and a headache...
but really not too bad.
Part of the grumps yesterday came from this:
This has been our view
With one bedroom window and one living room sliding glass door,
our view is so limited
But we find things to look at and enjoy.
We watch and feed/water the birds, squirrels and lizards
I try to avoid the wasps!
A while back, we noticed the trees beginning to brown
What's wrong we wondered?
These trees, planted on the other side of the wall,
belong to the neighboring senior building.
Not our responsibility.
Nothing out there is our responsibility in this apartment.
That has its good and bad points.
Mostly it all still feels so different.
The lack of land, nature is...
well, its a lot.
So, I've busied myself with studying the 'dreys' of the squirrels,
wondering if that really is what I see out there.
↔↔
Yesterday morning, I woke to noise.
Lots of noise.
Stepping out into the bad air,
I see the tree cutters.
I don't say 'trimmers' on purpose, as this was no mere trim!
The pine quickly disappears and reminds me of an old poem I wrote.
At that time, a neighboring house had caught on fire, twice, and the surrounding
pines were being removed.
I loved those trees so.
(click on photo to enlarge and forgive the drama of a teen mind!)
Anyway, it was a noisy rude awakening,
coupled with the continued (all week)
hammering, drilling, sawing from upstairs...
I just wanted some peace.
↔↔
I went into the darkened bedroom to take a phone call and
when I came out...
this is what I saw
Every tree gone!
Some of you may recall when this happened to all of the trees
in the 'back 40' of our old place.
What is it with us and disappearing trees?!
View standing, facing sliding door.
It is so much brighter in here now!
Brightness is nice, but more welcomed when there is not a heat wave!
I can hardly imagine what it will be like when our sky is blue and not
the gray of wildfire smoke.
Sigh
I am glad to actually see more sky,
I've missed that this past year+.
But, I now feel like I'm in a fishbowl as I sit on the couch.
It is hard for me, all this close living.
Yet, I remind myself to be grateful for all I have...
especially now as others are being evicted due to the covid crisis.
Sigh
Sigh
Sigh
↔↔
Sigh
↔↔
Do you see what I do?
Peek-a-Boo!
All the squirrels are "Ritchie"
There is Porch Ritchie, the one who came first.
There is Ragged Ritchie, the one with the battered tail.
There's the third Ritchie too.
There's the third Ritchie too.
All the lizards are "Bill"
and I have no way to tell them apart, except for size.
This was a teeny Bill
This morning there was a large Bill
I sound like I've lost my mind! haha
One must find their own entertainment, distraction and humor
during this time.
With that in mind,
this is Debbie, one of many Debbies.
About a month ago, Debbie was living in our sliding door.
Yes, you read that right...IN our door.
She'd built her home in the stationary bar in the sliding door.
In and out of the little hole she'd go, all day long.
In and out of the little hole she'd go, all day long.
For a couple of weeks,
I tried to figure out where the darn buzzing was coming from!
I tried to figure out where the darn buzzing was coming from!
You can't believe how loud a wasp in a metal post is!
It was driving me nuts!
Finally, I figured it out and got pictures to prove it!
This Debbie needed to go!
J. of course wanted to go the non-kill way.
I did too, but the thought of my sensitivities reacting to a wasp sting...
Oy! Bee stings swell me up for weeks.
He put tape over the hole, hoping she would find a new home.
She really didn't and she was MAD!
We no longer left the door open, even in the heat.
Torture.
He had to finally take matters into his own hands.
Debbie didn't die, but she didn't return to this hole.
There are lots of Debbies that live and fly down the corridor.
I wonder where their homes are,
but I am fine as long as i can use my door again!
Now, I wonder where the birds and squirrels will live too.
The Bills will probably enjoy more sun on the wall.
Life is full of trade offs,
she says knowing it's an old cliche.
↔↔
My mail bag is full again.
After this, I'm taking a break though,
so this will be that last mailing for a while.
(except for VOTE postcards, I think)
It was driving me nuts!
Finally, I figured it out and got pictures to prove it!
This Debbie needed to go!
J. of course wanted to go the non-kill way.
I did too, but the thought of my sensitivities reacting to a wasp sting...
Oy! Bee stings swell me up for weeks.
He put tape over the hole, hoping she would find a new home.
She really didn't and she was MAD!
We no longer left the door open, even in the heat.
Torture.
He had to finally take matters into his own hands.
Debbie didn't die, but she didn't return to this hole.
There are lots of Debbies that live and fly down the corridor.
I wonder where their homes are,
but I am fine as long as i can use my door again!
Now, I wonder where the birds and squirrels will live too.
The Bills will probably enjoy more sun on the wall.
Life is full of trade offs,
she says knowing it's an old cliche.
↔↔
My mail bag is full again.
After this, I'm taking a break though,
so this will be that last mailing for a while.
(except for VOTE postcards, I think)
I feel a drop guilty about over-working the post office, she says sheepishly.
But, I also have faith in our postal service.
Fingers crossed!
Usually, I don't post my photos of the combined items,
as I feel like it is a more personal communication
between me and the recipient
and I like them to be surprises.
But, I've not shared the personal message and these recipients don't come here,
so I'm calling it okay to change my own routine.
I absolutely love creating these!
I have a couple dozen photos at least, so I can remember many of these!
Each one is specific for the one getting the mail.
made and meditated upon for that special someone.
Colors, themes, photo locations...all designed to be a part of the message.
Creative me really loves planning and appreciating how these come together
Sometimes the materials speak before I can even think!
I'm grateful.
↔↔
In other making...
This creation was knit by my mama about 40 years ago!
Isn't it sweet?
I feel like it has taken me years to really appreciate how she could do this.
One of the packages in the mail bag holds this treasure, going out to my grandson.
↔↔
She brought it to the baby shower, still on the needles.
This was so her!
It's hard to tell in 1980 colors,
but I'm holding the knitting directions, she is holding the sweater on its needles
and that disembodied arm is holding the blanket my sister crocheted.
Everything in those light baby pastels of that era.
Thanks mom! Thanks Amy!
↔↔
Years later, it was my daughter's turn to get a homemade treasure.
She was four at the time.
Isn't this the most precious sweater ever!
That wooly sheep is just the best!
Again, I don't think I really appreciated how talented my mom was.
↔↔
But, I also have faith in our postal service.
Fingers crossed!
Usually, I don't post my photos of the combined items,
as I feel like it is a more personal communication
between me and the recipient
and I like them to be surprises.
But, I've not shared the personal message and these recipients don't come here,
so I'm calling it okay to change my own routine.
I absolutely love creating these!
I have a couple dozen photos at least, so I can remember many of these!
Each one is specific for the one getting the mail.
made and meditated upon for that special someone.
Colors, themes, photo locations...all designed to be a part of the message.
Creative me really loves planning and appreciating how these come together
Sometimes the materials speak before I can even think!
I'm grateful.
↔↔
In other making...
This creation was knit by my mama about 40 years ago!
Isn't it sweet?
I feel like it has taken me years to really appreciate how she could do this.
One of the packages in the mail bag holds this treasure, going out to my grandson.
↔↔
She brought it to the baby shower, still on the needles.
This was so her!
It's hard to tell in 1980 colors,
but I'm holding the knitting directions, she is holding the sweater on its needles
and that disembodied arm is holding the blanket my sister crocheted.
Everything in those light baby pastels of that era.
Thanks mom! Thanks Amy!
↔↔
Years later, it was my daughter's turn to get a homemade treasure.
She was four at the time.
Isn't this the most precious sweater ever!
That wooly sheep is just the best!
Again, I don't think I really appreciated how talented my mom was.
↔↔
When today's world is such a bother,
I can always visit favorite memories of the past.
So with that thought, I leave you with this yummy recipe.
My mom used to make this in her 1970's bundt pan.
My sister has it now.
Almost makes me miss my cooking days!
May you fight hard to find and remember the good
May you hang onto it when you can
May you love folks when they're here and miss 'em when they're gone
xo
Photographs by NAE ©2020
