It’s that wretched “week between”. Between Christmas and New Year. It’s what I think of as a “nothing” week. Nothing gets done because every body is either on holiday or simply shut down mentally after the build up and then the let down from Christmas.
When I was working, the offices tended to be sparsely occupied by people who didn’t want to make decisions and you just had to put everything on hold till January 2nd.
Now that I’m retired, I don’t have to worry about getting things done. A least not anything that is going to make a big difference, but somehow I am unsettled.
Could it be the approach of January 6th?
Am I still worrying about what that man may do?
Really, I’ve tried so hard to put it from my mind
but it’s still there pecking at me like a savage bird.
But, speaking of birds….
Our family (or murder) of crows were so excited by our recent record snowfall, they were distracted enough not to noticed when I slyly snapped their pictures.
Marching up and down the snow pile, they were.
“Keep up, stop lollygagging!”
And having a good old natter:
“I’m telling you, Mildred, we should have gone south.”
“Oh but Junior loves playing penguin.”
Then she saw me…..
And that was the end of that. I’m really quite offended. I’ve never met a crow before that I couldn’t befriend. Maybe I need to go find some junk food and scatter it about?
The snow brought some of our dove friends back.
Which made me very happy as I was missing them.
On our Boxing Day drive, I spotted a flock of starlings.
What do you know…
They were on their way to my place!
Grant calls the sparrows “Swarm” and I decided the starlings were like a biker mob, so they are “Mob”.
So that took my mind off things for a bit.
More Christmas cards arrived today. Everyone is accounted for and safe, for the time being, so that’s a relief. I’ve had people disappear off my list in the past and it just leaves you guessing. As my cousin said to me yesterday, “you can’t very well call them up and ask if they are dead!”
Blackie says “that won’t do at all!”
Here’s the rest of the reprobates.
This is “butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth”, Tinkerbell, our resident firecracker. Wicked, she is. Ms Claws.
Sophia, above, is very shy.
After she had lived at my place in Washington for 2 years, she finally allowed me to touch her and we became friends.
Then I did the horrible thing of moving kit and caboodle to New York. It did poor Sophia’s confidence in.
She lived under sofas and chairs for 18 months.
Then she would allow Grant to touch her.
It took another year before she would trust me again.
Poor, sweet Sophia. She and Patches get chased regularly.
It’s an all-day chorus: “Stop IT!” “No Paddling!”…etc etc….
Where would I be without them?