I have been hibernating in the house for days now. I went out on Monday in between snow showers to pick up Dean at the train station after his Super Bowl weekend in Kansas City. Since then, I haven’t even stepped out to get the mail from the mailbox. Just plain too cold with the arctic blast! The sweatered teddy bear sits on the window still reminds folks that the warmth of love reigns in this home. The perfectly formed snowflakes glisten in the occasional sunlight while the colorful Valentine decorations, hot beverages, sweet treats, and my sweetheart, Dean will keep me cozy warm this 3-day holiday weekend. We have another week of these near zero-degree nights and less than 20-degrees days. What an opportunity for bird watching from our windows, writing, reading, cooking, baking, and movie watching! BTW: When did that groundhog say spring will arrive?
The new year rang in with the bang of the neighbor’s fireworks at midnight here at Deanna’s Cottage. Dean and I did carry-out Mexican, mixed cocktails of ginger ale with Disaronno amaretto, a movie, and hit the hay before midnight. The fireworks reminded me of a brighter year promised in 2021. Gray skies have taken many of January’s days. But the occasional sunny day has been well received, even produced a mid-afternoon walk. This last day of January the temperatures have dropped enough to see snow flurries floating. Kind of sleety stuff is misting the air now. The finches, sparrows, and cardinals chatter at the feeders. We had a 2-inch snow earlier this week. More to come this evening. The whistle of the the tea kettle calls me back into the kitchen while writing this afternoon.
On January 5 I received exciting news that my four recipe submissions and two of my poem submissions were accepted for a quarterly e-magazine called eMerge. Take a gander at this quarter’s submission, my scones recipe are featured. This publication is based from The Writers’ Colony At Dairy Hollow, which I have read about and have been on their newsletter list for years. On two occasions I drove by the place while in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, but didn’t stop in. A visit or two is in the making for 2021. This non-profit organization was established 20 years ago. They provide residencies where writers can stay in a comfortable suite and surroundings to work on a literary piece of any genre. They also have sponsored fellowships offered at various times throughout the year. Several online courses are available. This place once was the famous bed & breakfast owned by culinary and children’s author, Crescent Dragonwagon. Many years ago I read about this Arkansas bed & breakfast in a country magazine and thought “I want to go there sometime.” So my next trip to this eccentric, eclectic toursy town will be for the purpose to stay at The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow for a 1-week residency in 2021.
January 6, who will forget that day? Some thought America might come to an end with the deadly riot ensued at the nation’s capitol. I was troubled in my heart as I witnessed and heard the news. I was and still am confident that our nation will pull together for a better, stronger democracy. It is going to take each of us to examine our own hearts, actions, and then pursue change in oneself first. Those restless hours at night have me sitting up praying. One month finished in a blink of an eye. Before we know it 2022 will be rung in. Make the most of each day, at peace with yourself and the world around you. “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other.” ~ Mark 9:50. A salty peace. Sounds like an oxymoronic scripture, but it is truth.
More days anticipated in the basement this wintry season had Dean and I reorganizing our storage spaces. Dean built a huge wood shelving unit and we have that about 1/3 filled with our boxes and various equipment. Dean has his little cubby area for model building. On an old table, I have a jigsaw puzzle to piece together. Hand weights and exercise ball are readily available for much needed physical activity. I finally started walking in the basement in 15-minute increments 3 or 4 times a day to get my heart pumping at a healthier rate. I work my way around the our perennials beholding the green life they bring to me. These basement laps have been opportunity for prayers and singing. I now call them my warrior marches. Read my womanwarrior.blog and you will understand why. So many needs out there and within. God hears our prayers, I hope you know. A desire to form a non-profit is in the works; it burns within me daily. My retirement date from my HR position with county government is finally coming in 2021. Onto new pursuits with part-time employment, my writing, my gardening, and developing this non-profit.
While at our local nature store during the holidays purchasing bird seed and gifts, we (and all their loyal customers) were given a cranberry seed bell, wrapped pretty in red & green tissue paper in a brown paper gift bag. Such a kind gesture. We saved the seed bell for this last weekend of Advent. A delicious dessert for our songbirds, or at least that is what Dean and I had in our minds. A neighborhood squirrel has another idea of who that seed bell belongs to. Within in minutes of hanging the cranberry seed bell on a hook, a squirrel is chewing on the rope so the dessert falls to the ground for his partaking only. By the time Dean got outside that blanky-blank squirrel is gnawing on that seed bell like a succulent buttery corn cob on an August day! In disgust, Dean shoos the squirrel away and rescues the cranberry seed bell from the ground.
Making do with what we have in the basement Dean finds an old metal curtain rod, metal wiring, and duct tape. Dean jimmy-rigs an extension pole from a current bird feeder pole. He is hoping this will deter the squirrels, or least make it more difficult to get to the cranberry seed bell. We still have squirrels feeding on the cranberry seed bell, but not totally taking over for their own pleasure. It is being shared amongst the songbirds and squirrels now. Such is the theme of the squirrels in our neighborhood, and I guarantee yours as well. We have learned to live with the squirrels, just make it a bit more of a challenge for the squirrels. And don’t take over what is meant for the common good.
Co-existence. Isn’t that the word? Much like the children’s tale of the king, mice, and cheese illustrates. The king dislikes sharing his cheese with the mice. So he brings in a cat to take care of the mice. The king doesn’t like the cat clawing on this furniture. So he brings in a dog. Then the dog’s fur gets on the king’s nerves, and he brings in … So the story goes on until the king realizes he has a much bigger problem than he had with just the mice. Can we apply that story to our current state of affairs in our nation? I think so. We can do so much better than we did this past week. We need to co-exist, agree to disagree, and respect boundaries despite our political views, creeds, races, genders, ages, and choices. So the lion and elephant do not crowd out our nation void, and you and I null.
Withered leaves rustle
Acorns scatter all the while
Swallowtails, bees nurse on
Succulents’ cerise pink blooms
Before leaving summer’s home
The cicadas have clicked and buzzed in harmony since late July. August came and went with floods at the beginning of the month and ended with a drought. Now it is September. It is the month that summer fades into autumn. The songbirds, swallow tail butterflies, and honeybees still gather at the fountain for a drink. For our feathered friends, it is also a communal bath. A refreshing rain cooled the air, and gave the thirsty earth a drink. My morning walks start a little later as the sun waits to come up as the moon slowly leaves the sky. There is a rustling with the flowering bushes and leaves in the trees when the wind shifts, some days blessed with the cooler northern air. Lush greens are giving way to hazel. Early autumn colors of yellow, orange, and red are seen. I gathered a handful of leaves to put in water as I walked home one morning. The evening stroll in the yard brought me to resilient blooms holding on until the first frost, or my snipping shears. The imperfect yet resilient petals show bug bites and drying tips, but still the hues brighten my September day. I am reminded of God’s promise, “God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.” ~ Psalms 46:5
The summer rains woke me this morning. Typically, it is the sun peeking through the white curtains in our bedroom or the first tweets of our neighborhood birds that welcome me to the new day. The earth needed some fresh rain water in my spot of the world. And so it did just that, watered our flowers, plants, and grass to a vivid green. “Aw”, my green friends say. What a lovely, milder day of summer we had today.
My 3-mile power walk will need to wait until tomorrow. During our morning computer screen break between rains, Dean and I took a casual walk up the street to the newly opened coffee shop. A unique place, a coffee roaster situated in an old auto brake shop, Upshot Coffee Brake Shop. Dean treats himself to a cappuccino, and I to a herbal tea. I think this new establishment will be a once-in-awhile daytime perch for us during these mundane work-from-home arrangements, like it was today. Make it a special walk for a special moment in time.
My haven is home. So blessed during this stay-at-home order Dean and I have been given opportunity to care for our home and yard. Our home gives back so much more. And spring has been so pleasant this year, very much like spring should be. Sunshine, rains, a random storm brews up, cool mornings, and warmer afternoons. We had a couple of days it felt more like summer, but it cooled down after the rains. And then a few frost warning mornings, but it never came. Better safe than sorry, we covered our annuals and perennials. Kind of like the corona virus for us. We take the precautions: masks, social distancing, and extra sanitation in our home and when we are out.
These mild temperatures and regular watering from the rains has provided such a green haven of leaves, grasses, mosses, and foliage. Mid-spring the dogwood, azalea, clematis, irises and the flowering trees, bushes, and stemmed blooms are clothed in white or more showy colors of fuchsia, paler pinks, purples, blues, oranges, yellows, and reds. The peonies are exceptional this year. The song birds are plentiful. Their songs divine. The morning doves, robins, finches of purple and yellow, grosbeaks, cardinals, indigo buntings, nuthatches, and sparrows of many species come to our feeders and reside in the birdhouses or bushes. Hawks and owls call out throughout the day and night as their homes are nearby. Of course, families of squirrels and rabbits in the neighborhood are for the taking by these birds of prey. Occasionally, it is a morning dove for a meal.
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest; Home-keeping hearts are happiest, For those that wander they know not where Are full of trouble and full of care; To stay at home is best. Weary and homesick and distressed, They wander east, they wander west, And are baffled and beaten and blown about By the winds of the wilderness of doubt; To stay at home is best. Then stay at home, my heart, and rest; The bird is safest in its nest; O’er all that flutter their wings and fly A hawk is hovering in the sky; To stay at home is best. Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The vivid beauty of this spring season is present at Boone Hollow Farm near Defiance, Missouri. In our attempt to get away from the urban or should I say “world” troubles, this farm became our mid-week oasis. It is almost magical at the farm where Dean and I’s greenhouse seats. The lowering sun illuminated the purples and greens in the fields and groves of trees, the grass plush. Birds singing their evening tunes, frogs peeping in unison, sheep in the neighbor farmyard baaing. A serene symphony of countryside calm. My country garden is a dwelling place for me, a bed to lay my cares aside. Our sowed seedlings in the screenhouse side of the greenhouse are coming up well. We are hopeful the leafy greens will be ready to provide the base for our salads by the end of April or early May. In the mist of viral chaos there is a dwelling place for each of us, even if it is just in the mind.
Over the course of the winter and this early spring the busy red and gray squirrels in our neighborhood have managed to empty the two patio cushions on our next door neighbors’ patio furniture. I suppose the amount of leaves and branches in the neighborhood is not enough for these rascals. Hoarders and self-absorbed. Sound familiar? The synthetic stuffing that I call “white fluff” has been scattered about in the immediate neighborhood found in the green grass, bushes, trees, leaves, and the huge squirrels’ nest in our cherry tree. This has been going on over the past 5 months, with maybe the final unloading last night. We don’t see another cushion laying in the yard or patio furniture, thank God. The neighbor who owns the patio cushions appears clueless or could give a darn. Dean and I spent a few Saturday afternoons cleaning up the “white fluff” from our yard, and the next door church’s yard. A couple of months ago Dean fully emptied the one cushion the squirrels chewed a hole in and threw the remaining contents in the trash bin. The squirrels found the other cushion, and chewed a hole in that one. So a repeat with the second cushion, we have spent a good hour here and there cleaning up. Rather comical at times, but mostly aggravating.
On a more serious note, this “white fluff” illustrates to me the novel corona virus and the community’s responses. The squirrels are those people who carry the virus, and share their germs while out and about with their busy, careless activities like hoarding the toilet paper and taking their children to the grocery store for a “social hour”. The clueless neighbor is the person who refuses to self-educate with reputable, accurate, up-to-date COVID-19 information and seems to hide from life. Dean and I are the millions of people trying to keep our world cleaned-up and safe for ourselves and others around us. How about you? Are you watching after yourself and those people placed immediately around you? Surely you are not one of the squirrels making more of mess for the rest of us! Let’s get this “white fluff “cleaned up, obey the social distancing rules, and pray we have a vaccine before the next season arrives.
The song birds at our feeders keep us entertained with their thankful chirps and chatter. The robins bob up and down listening for the worms. The cardinals’ color brighten Dean’s and I’s day. The yellow, purple, and house finches share and then bicker over perches. The word co-exist is familiar to many of us this present day. We are home together all day seven days a week now with these mandatory remote work settings. After a whole day of staying indoors that first day, Dean and I knew we needed to change it up. Fresh air and daily walks were needed to keep our sanity. Our bodies, minds, and spirits thanked us. We now take a stroll twice a day everyday. We see neighbors about, too. If we get into a spring rain, the drops are harmless. A cup of hot coffee for Dean and hot tea for me takes any chill out immediately. The spring season is in bloom every direction we walk. First the jonquils, daffodils, hyacinths, wild violets, and now tulips take bloom. The tulip and plum trees opened with the crab apple and pear trees closely after. Soon the cherry, red bud, and dogwood trees will be in full display. Nature’s canvas and neighbors’ garden art to admire. Our feathered and flowery friends, God’s creations teach us to take note, be present moment, co-exist, and share joy.