Stuff

While days are still quite long, I continue doing my outdoor “rounds” before breakfast. Not that there are many creatures around at the moment to stare in at me accusingly as I eat. Spring is always frenzied, then as summer draws out, activity drops off and at the moment, it’s as if everyone has gone on holiday, or perhaps they are at a symposium, discussing plans for the coming migration.

It feels too soon to be thinking of our summer friends departing again. For a month or so in spring, we cannot keep up with demand as the feeders are emptied by starlings, red-wings, grackles and cow-birds.

Soon, the fledglings arrive to add to the cacophony. I feel quite sorry for the sparrows, finches, red cardinals and doves who are our regular, year-round diners. They should have a reserved feeder, but Nature doesn’t work that way.

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Woodpeckers, with their superior beaks manage to claim the suet, and stroppy blue-jays hold their own, but it’s no wonder grosbeaks and towhees abandon us and many birds avoid us altogether, sadly. In spring this year we were delighted to be visited regularly by catbirds, but they too were crowded out by the starlings, though we still hear them up in the woods.

The above catbird sang to me prettily in the Hannaford’s parking lot.

Now, the starlings and red-wings have taken themselves off to greener pastures, – or bluer skies, without so much as a polite goodbye! The odd juvenile grackle or two remain behind and the silence is deafening. Some days I don’t even need to top-up the feeders.

This, of course can change without notice. One must be prepared.

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Anyway, I still go out as soon as it gets light and I enjoy that time of day, when the world is just awakening. It is one of the better features of the summer months.

Returning indoors, I usually find that Grant is feeding the dear darlings. Then we share a piece of fruit and sit down to our own breakfast after which, the washing-up and morning chores. It’s the routine we automatically follow unless it gets pre-empted by an especially early appointment. Or a power outage.

After morning chores, I sit down at my computer. But sometimes, morning chores drag.

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Such as when there is a major mess, like this morning. It looked like a mess that had been in the making for days, but if it had, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed. And it would have been quite a bit messier.

Unlike dogs, cats don’t have to be taken out to do their business. How convenient – they use litter boxes. Yes, well it would be convenient if they didn’t overshoot. Or perhaps today’s culprit decided that proximity would suffice.

Caring for multiple cats, you must expect these problems. It’s a way for cats to express displeasure either with another cat, or with you, or perhaps with life in general. So it is advisable to cat-proof your home.

Only the little buggers will defeat your every attempt. This morning’s wee puddle had leaked over the edge of the carefully placed plastic liner and spread underneath. Luckily, there is no carpet, but clean up one mess and you’ll discover another.

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Soon we were rearranging the layout of the litter boxes, which somehow led to removing a rug, beneath which more cleaning was required. The rejected rug we decided could replace one that we recently attempted to wash, – another fine fiasco.

That rug was a very good colour for an entryway, all browns and tans that stood up well, but even if it didn’t look dirty, I knew it had to be, so we decided that next time a few clear, sunny days were predicted, we’d take it outside for a bath, which we did.

Then discovered that it is going to need a whole lot more scrubbing.

Perhaps we could afford a new rug? I went online and found, at a reasonable price, such a vast range that I was overwhelmed with choices, scrolling up and down, back and forth until I got fed-up looking and settled for one that I thought would do.

And so it would have, but for one thing:

It’s slippery.

Not because it slides on the floor, no, no. The surface of the rug itself is so slippery that, whether barefoot or shod, it is like walking on wet ice – treacherous. I wonder how other people get on with those rugs.

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Moving things around, I somehow ended up with two items in my hand that needed a new home, so I went to put them in the cupboard in a spare room. Ah. One of those little alarms went off recently which alerted us to a problem with the halon gas extractor, access to which is through said cupboard, after removal of the shelf.

The contents was hauled out and draped around the spare room for the duration, where it still was this morning, awaiting sweeping of the floor and re-attachment of the shelf.

So, for the time being, I went put the evicted items in the bedroom closet, which drew my attention to the disaster area that has become. Not another thing could fit in there. So I compromised, pulling out a box which could go – in that other cupboard – once I’d swept up.

“Order a skip!” I said, “I’m just going to dump the lot!”

Why is it so hard getting rid of stuff?

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