After a few damp, teen-years, Missouri summers with a chicken-feather stuffed pillow and the 1000 baby chicks raised one spring in my brother's bedroom, the odor is familiar and maybe is why I think chickens are my friends. (The 1000 baby chick story is for another time.) As I sit here, Wendy's chicks are pecking on the sides of the cardboard box they live in. There is nothing there but cardboard so I am guessing they like the sound. Maybe, they are tapping out a code, organizing to rise up and free themselves to run through the house. Or fly?
The cold spring is definitely over, fans from the Saharan attic are appearing one-by-one throughout the house. Frezz appreciates the one I set up for him and me here in the living room
...but it's a damp heat.
You, of the Desert Southwest, are probably scoffing.
Backing up to last weekend, Aidan had his final concert of the season that took place in the Perelman Theater in Verizon Hall. They made good music. Here's the last movement of the last piece...
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| Taking a bow... |
Out on the street Buskers hustled to their own drumbeat...
The next morning, Monday, Keoni headed to NC to visit his friend Caroline and her family at the beach where they stayed; now returning up the coast to Connecticut with a history tour out the window of their car conducted by Caroline's dad.
Keoni sent a beach picture to love...
A pause here: To reflect on the long friendship I've had with Jean. She is on the West Coast and is reaching her final days in hospice care and the gentle ministrations of her loving daughter with her almost-three-year-old granddaughter sometimes along. I am sad and at the same time gladdened we could have had this long time to be friends.
I think about her as I sort through keepsake type things wondering who in the world would want such-and-such item. You'd think I'd down-sized enough by now, but that isn't completely the case. There are those nine boxes that came on the Greyhound bus almost three years ago. A few of them contained things I definitely wanted to keep (and sadly, a couple of them were broken), and some that there wasn't enough time to pare down further. I'm practicing diligence in redistributions of the contents as I consult the Universe and free them to Her directives.
Walks now are assisted by a swath that Wendy mows along the fence lines around the property. It also makes less opportunity for ticks to brush onto me as I go along.
Everywhere people mow their lawns and encourage their plantings and flowers. The mowing is olfactory balm. The flowers are eye-candy...
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| The R & J Market on Allentown Road added this room onto their store. |
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| It's now hard to imagine the snow so deep that the red-leafed tree was barely peaking. |
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