Tag Archives: widowed

Home Sick ……

…… and not liking it.

I haven’t even been here for a week yet and I’m feeling sad more than I’m not.

I love my home, truly love it. And it’s nice to spend time with the boys, even if it’s only a few seconds a day.
But that’s part of the problem. They just come and go and rarely stay. They rarely want to just hang out with mom, which I know is normal.
But normal is lonely.

When I’m in NY I’m alone much of the time, but I don’t feel lonely. I think the loneliness comes from living in a place where I used to be very busy, and had a lot of friends to go out with, or call, or hang with.
When Jim when was alive.
When I was married.

Sometimes it feels gut-wrenching to live in the exact same place, but have a very different life.

When Jim was alive, things were always busy. Granted, the kids were all younger and so there was more to do with them, and we were very involved with our church and our community.
Having a night at home …… a night where we didn’t have to go anywhere …… was wonderful.
Now that’s the only kind of night I have.
And while I like having time to myself, having time 24/7 to myself isn’t wonderful.
Not here, anyway.
Not as long as I can remember how it was …… “before”.

“Before” I had plans all of the time.
“Before” I didn’t have to invite myself over to a friend’s house, or be made to feel that I was.
“Before” I never would’ve thought of taking a taxi home from the airport, because I had no one to call. I wouldn’t have worried that if I called someone for a ride they’d feel that I was using them.

Today was a lovely day …… weather-wise. I sat outside and got some work done and read and studied.
Alone.
I’m finding that when you’re always alone, even the loveliest of days can be painful.

I have been blessed beyond belief in my life. Both in my “before” and in my “after”.
But there are still times …… and there will always be times …… when the pain of missing my “before”, brings tears that blind me to the blessings.
For a while.

San Diego ……

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…… in pictures.
Because, you know …… I have them, you ~~want to see them~~ are a captive audience.
Kind of.

So here you go:
(Ummmm ….. you might want to pull up a chair. Just in case you’re standing up right now while at your computer, or tablet or phone.)

This is my niece (on the right with the goggles) and a friend, licking the beater from the homemade ice cream maker. We used to make ice cream at Jim’s parents’ farm for every birthday, or sometimes just for fun in the summer. It’s been a couple of decades since that’s happened.
We all took turns sitting on the bucket, turning the handle.
And the result was well worth the effort. As you can tell from this pic.

This was me, after I discovered a fun app on my phone that I didn’t realize was there. I think I killed a good half hour playing with it. 🙂

I took this picture about 30 minutes after we got to the beach. When we sat all of our stuff down the water was about 30 feet away from us.
And then suddenly, it wasn’t.
We had to move our things very quickly at least twice.

I love watching the hot air balloons every time I visit San Diego. A few years ago Son #1 and I, and my brother in law, rode in one. It was such a cool experience. So I enjoy watching them float by. Except this one seemed to have some sort of problem. It went down, getting flatter and flatter on one side.
But it was a slow descent so I don’t think anyone was hurt.

This is my back yard. So cool, huh?
Well, this was my back yard before I took off for California. I brought the cushions and ottomans in before I left because it was supposed to rain that day. I think it rained here a lot, so the cushions still aren’t back on the furniture.
And the outdoor rug doesn’t look as nice as it did in this picture.
But really …… what outdoor does, after it’s been outdoors??

And for those of you who’ve seen my collection in my previous home, here it is in the new one. Finally.

I think I liked it better in the other house, against the blue wall. But I’m not painting this wall any time soon so this will have to do.

This is S, my niece, during her horse riding lesson. English style, as you can see. She loves it.

And here she is in the pool. Which she also loves.

Here’s their dog, Lucy, mid-air before she hits the pool, going after a ball that’s been tossed into the pool. She cracks me up. And she absolutely loves going after that ball.

This is my brother-in-law (Jim’s brother) dancing with S. in the pool. He’s a great dad. He’s been retired since before she was born so she’s had the unique experience of growing up with both of her parents at home. She’s very, very ~~lucky~~ blessed.

This was downtown by the Marriott. There were a lot of cool kites every day.

And this is a guy who stacked rocks into tall towers, without using any glue, or cement, or ANYTHING. It was pretty dang cool.

Here’s a pic that my friend K took. And no, she didn’t make a donation. <tee hee>
Isn’t that amazing?! The top big rocks are balancing on such tiny rocks.

And this guy. I have no idea what he was doing, other than riding around the yachts on a board, just using a pole. In the next pic you can see how tiny he looks next to the freakingly huge boat! Look closely …… he’s on the right.

This was Friday night, from the hotel. The fireworks were fun.

And this is one of my very favorites: Daughter #3 karaoking Saturday night during the banquet. I could listen to my daughters sing all day long, every day. She did a wonderful job and she did an even better job interpreting for the very first time for two of our deaf widows. I could watch her do that all day long, too.
Except when Kelley did her comedy workshop and went up to D3 while she was interpreting and starting giving her curse words, and REALLY bad words, to interpret!! I had to stand up in front of God and everyone and insist that she stop doing that because my BABY doesn’t know those words!!!
It was really hilarious.
And I learned some pretty cool signs.
Ha!!

This was my dress for the banquet/dance/karaoke. My mom hemmed it at the last minute and did a terrific job.

This is the back view. Whoop!

This was the view from my room:

This was the view from the elevator landing. Six tennis courts …… one clay. Too bad I didn’t bring a racquet!

And this, my Peeps, is the new addition.
Wait! Not to my home!! I had you going for a moment there, didn’t I? Lol!
This is Winston (as in Churchill) and Mom and D just picked him up this morning. He’s an English Mastiff. ❤ They brought him over to meet me and I instantly fell in love.
If I ever decide to stay in one place full time I’ll definitely consider getting another one.

OK, now you’re caught up with me, picture-wise.

Now I have to get some more laundry out of the dryer. Yes, I’m still doing laundry!! It’s a never-ending job!
Happy Weekend!!

Forgive Me, Father ……

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…… for I have failed to blog in a timely fashion.
And it’s been several decades since my last confession.
As a matter of fact, I’ve never gone to confession.
Well, not in a Catholic sort of way.

It’s been a busy couple of weeks since my last post.
I went to San Diego and had a nice time just hanging with Jim’s brother and his family. We didn’t do much, just hung out by the pool, played with my niece, watched some TV and made numerous trips to the grocery store.
It was a nice few days.

And then I went to the hotel 2 days before Camp Widow West to help out where needed. There were several campers already ensconced in their lovely rooms, hanging out by the pool and tending bar.
Well, maybe not so much tending, as drinking.

By Thursday afternoon you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting a widowed person at the Marriott.
(Where in the heck did that saying come from?? And does anyone else see the irony? 🙂

Camp started off bright and early Friday and continued to run smoothly through the weekend.
I saw “old” friends. Which was terrific.
I made new friends. Which was great.
I shed tears. Which was ok.
I laughed.
A lot.
Which was so very wonderful.

It’s always an emotional week for me.
Being with Jim’s brother, watching our niece, is nice …… and yet sad.
I always think that he should be there, visiting with them, sharing memories with his brother.
It’s always a happy/sad time.

As is Camp.
It’s wonderful to see returning campers …… and to notice how much they’ve changed over the year.
Their smiles come quicker.
Their laughs are fuller.
Their eyes contain light where there was only dark last year.

It’s hard, but also good, to see brand new campers.
Their smiles are slow to show themselves.
Their tears are quick to fall.
Their pain is spilling out of them.
And while it’s difficult to escape the memories that their presence calls to mind, it’s so very good to be able to hug them and let them know they’re not alone.
And not as crazy as they thought.

It was the best camp yet.

The best part of it was that Daughter #3 came to volunteer her time has an interpreter for the two deaf widows who came this year.
She had never interpreted before, and was pretty nervous about the whole thing, but she did a wonderful job. I loved just standing back and watching her.
She shared not only her passion for the deaf community, but her heart. And her experiences as a daughter whose father died.
I was, and am, so very proud of her.
And I missed her immensely the night I said good bye to her before her flight the next morning.
And still do.

I really don’t enjoy the Sundays of camp.
Ninety nine percent of the campers leave that day.
So we say good bye.
I don’t like good byes.
I never really did, but now I hate them.
Depression always settles in around my shoulders on that Sunday.
I miss all of my friends.
And I miss Jim.
Always.

It takes a couple of days to shrug off that depression.
It’s certainly not as heavy as it used to be, thankfully.
Mostly everyone experiences it after camp.
We call it “Camp Crash”.
It sucks, but there are worse things.

So now I’m back in Texas. It’s good to be around the boys. Son #3 will be going back to school in just a few weeks.
Son #2 is still in school and it appears that may never end.
I jest.
Hopefully.

I’m trying to catch up on things here.
Like unpacking, laundry, signing my newly-updated will (ugh), trading in my too-large car for a smaller one, grocery shopping, paying bills …… you know, all things fun.
Only not so much.

I need to find some friends.
I need to find some way to get involved here.
Ironic, since I’ve lived here for 20+ years and used to have more friends than I could count.
But life moves on.
As do people.

So I’ve got to come up with a plan.
Other than heading to NY. Which I can’t do until the end of September, unless I just throw caution to the wind and tempt the ~~fates~~ NY IRS.
Which I totally might.
🙂

So that’s it from this state.
Now I’ve got to get a load of clothes out of the dryer and one into the washer.
Duty calls.

Happy Thursday/Friday.
🙂

Like Sands Through the Hour Glass ……

A Photo Album ……

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…… instead of a blog.
Or so it seems.

Oh, and hey …… if you want to go visit the Hudson Valley Bridge, you might want to hurry up and get there tomorrow.

I’m just sayin’.

If you get there early enough you can go see FDR’s house.
Or you can just stay home and enjoy these pics.
I just saved you a ton on plane fare, didn’t I?
You’re welcome.

This is actually a large dumbwaiter. FDR used it after he contracted polio and was confined to a wheel chair. It was already there and used by the servants. So you don’t have an elevator? No problem! Use the dumbwaiter.
I’m guessing that a smart one wouldn’t let you use it like that.
Ha!
(Did you groan or smile?)

This is one of the hallways upstairs with bedrooms up and down it.

This is a copy of the Declaration of Independence that hangs in the above bedroom (FDR’s boyhood room).

This is a sort of parlor for the guest room, which is through the white door on the back wall. If you look closely you can see what appears to maybe be a full sized bed (with a white coverlet), but it seemed smaller than that.
BTW, the King and Queen of England (Elizabeth’s parents) stayed there.
I hope she took the bed.

NINE freakin’ bathroooms!! Can you even imagine cleaning all of those toilets?!!

Another hallway:

“Mizz Scarlett, I don’t know nothin’ bout birthin’ babies!”
Sorry, that just pops into my head every time I see that picture!

A young FDR:

I don’t know about you, but I would’ve had a huge problem with my mother in law if she was remotely like Anna. She did NOT treat Eleanor all that well. Notice the size of the bed? Franklin’s was an adjoining room with a large bed.
Sheesh.
On a happy note, Eleanor did end up with her own cottage place, not far from the main house. So at least she did have her own home there.
Bossy MIL!

FDR’s room is through that door:

Guess who?! Yep, that girly-looking boy is our 32nd president.
Thank God his mother finally let him get his hair cut!

So for what I think is the first time ever, I’m going to have to do a three-parter.
Sorry, but I have about 35 more pics left to post (minus the ones I’ll edit out), and I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of FDR at the moment.

Let me know if you’re interested and if you are, I’ll post the rest.
I have to tell you that I got some pics of some pretty darn cute baby animals that seemed to live under the house.
Is that like a cliff hanger?!
🙂

A Sample Day ……

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…… of my life in NY.
(An alternate title of this post could be: “A BOATLOAD of Pics!”
You might want to pace yourself.
Over a week or two.)

And only a sample day. They’re not all like this.
But a lot of them are close. 🙂

The day before I flew back to Texas, my alarm went off at 6:30 a.m.
I was supposed to meet up with my friend, Jeni, to walk a mile or so and meet up with a group of Manhattan Women’s Club members.
I hit the snooze button.
Twice.

And then I just happened to wake up …… at 7:19 a.m.
Seriously.

Jumping out of bed, while experiencing heart palpitations and yelling out a curse word is not the best way to start the day.
Trust me.

But, since I seem to sometimes do my best under pressure, I managed to shower, dress, put make up on and race walk two blocks …… all by 7:36 a.m.
Yes, I’m that good.
Kind of sad, isn’t it?

Then Jeni and I walked to meet the bus. We ended up race walking because we thought the meeting spot was about 6 blocks before it actually was.
I know.
We were only about 7 minutes late, and thankfully we were not the last ones to get there.
Whew.

Jeni was smart …… she went to the long back seat and napped the two hours it took to get to Poughkeepsie (OK, I have to say that I just love saying that word. What a great name to be from. I have no idea if the town is a great place to be from, but I love its name. Say it … it’s fun! Oh, and it’s pronounced Poe-kip-see. 🙂 )

I was jealous.
And very tired.
But I perked up when we got there.
Thank you, Dr. Pepper.

We chartered a bus to the Hudson Valley to walk over the bridge (from the Poughkeepsie side). The bridge is 1.28 miles long and 212 feet tall.
Funny, it seemed longer and higher.

Here are some pics:

See? I told you it looked longer than that!

It’s also THE longest elevated pedestrian bridge In. The. World.
Impressed?
You should be.
This is the view of the Mid-Hudson Bridge, a.k.a. the “Franklin D. Roosevelt Bridge”.

A tug boat!
He was pushing a lot more than he was tugging.
(Or should I say “she”? Boats are supposed to be shes, but I seem to remember some children’s story about a boy tugboat. Anywhooo …. I digress. Terribly.
Sorry.
Welcome to my brain.)

The mid-way point. Does it look like less than 3/4 of a mile?
Me, either.

This is a view from the other side. I thought this house was so pretty with its blue door and its flower boxes.

Next stop: The Culinary Institute of America.
Or CIA, which, I confess, was a bit confusing on the first email. I kept thinking we were going to THE CIA, but knew that we’d have to go to Langley, VA for that tour, so that didn’t make sense.
Again, welcome to my brain.

Back to the cooking place.

Mostly everyone there (who were students) wore the comfy-looking uniform of grey pants (roomy pants, kind of like scrubs) and a white chef’s top. I think I’d go nuts trying to keep the top white. For one day.
Too much pressure.

Inside where our group had lunch. It was a fixed menu (kale salad with asparagus, grilled sea bass and veggies, and cheesecake). It was a very tasty meal.

We saw this lovely waterfall on the way out. I was trying to hurry to get a pic, so they’re not great, but you get the idea.
Hmmmm, I wonder if that statement would work for a picture of half of Niagara Falls? “It’s not a great picture, but you get the idea.”
Somehow, I doubt it.

The C.I.A. (the cooking place) is located in Hyde Park. Interestingly enough, Franklin Roosevelt’s home, museum and presidential library are located there, too.
So we went to see them!

This is the library … and our tour guide.

There were about 20 of us and then a good-sized group from Texas.
Whoop! They were an older crowd and were very nice. They asked us about NY and what they should see and do the next day there. I felt so New York-ish to be able to answer them. 🙂

This was FDR’s birth-home, childhood home, and his home-away-from-White House-home. The only place he thought of as “home”. And I can’t blame him.

These were the barns. Pretty dang nice for a barn, wouldn’t you say?!

Going in through the front door (as opposed, I guess, to the back door … whatever):

FDR greets you upon entering. A young FDR.

First floor living room:

This was Anna Roosevelt’s (FDR’s very “in control” mother) “office”.

And this is her picture. She looks like a formidable woman.
And she was.
Very.

First floor “family room”

Foyer

OK, I’ve decided to split this post into two posts.
You’re welcome.

Tomorrow I’ll post all of the pictures from the second story of the home, the inside of the Library and the grounds.
That’s going to be another boatload of pictures.
Sorry that there are so many, but I have to say that when I go visit something in NY, I feel like I’m visiting it for all of you, too, so I want to take as many pics as I can (interesting pics, I hope, for the most part).
Many of you have said (more than once) that you’re living vicariously through me, which is a fun role that I don’t take lightly. I want you to feel, as closely as possible, like you were there.
Of course, you’re free to exit right out of this window any time you’d like. I realize that looking at other peoples’ pictures isn’t very exciting for most people, so I don’t take it personally.
Much.

So, Happy Wednesday/Thursday, Peeps.
I’ll post the rest tomorrow …… or at least that’s my plan as of 11:52 p.m. Central Time.
I also have to do laundry and pack for San Diego before early Saturday morning, when I get on yet another plane.

Whoop!… ?
(Yawn!!!)

🙂

To The Man I Love ……

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…… and miss every single day with every fiber of my being.

Other than that …… T.A.N.W.*

*There. Are. No. Words.

Deep In The Storms ……

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…… of Texas.

The weather in Houston caused our plane in NY to be delayed for about 40 minutes, which really wasn’t all that bad.
Unless you’re hunched over in your seat while keeping one hand inside a pet carrier, trying to make sure that your cat isn’t dying, or already dead.
Seriously.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 1:00 p.m. and I was being picked up at 11:00 a.m., so I gave Oliver his prescription sedative at around 10:15. I gave him a double dose, just as I did back in October when we flew to NY (which the vet said I could do if the single dose wasn’t effective).
The double dose wasn’t as effective as I, or the driver who picked me up at the airport, would’ve liked.

But this morning he seemed to calm down pretty rapidly. I was able to put him in his carrier without getting claw marks on my arms and bits of black fur all over my white blouse (I have no idea why I almost ALWAYS wear a white top when I have to take him somewhere. None.).

He was pretty quiet on the trip to the airport. But he seemed pretty ticked off that I disturbed his drugged-induced nap when I had to take him out of the carrier and carry him through security.
And he let me, and everyone within the same zip code, know about it.
I felt like that person who’s carrying a crying baby down the aisle of the plane, while everyone refuses to make eye contact, in hopes that will cause her to keep walking past their row.

But as soon as I sat down at the gate to wait for the boarding process to begin, he stopped yowling. The silence was indeed …… golden.
But after about 5 minutes I got a bad feeling and couldn’t concentrate on the book I was reading.
So I unzipped the carrier a bit and put my hand in to pet him. And he didn’t move a muscle. I could feel the panic rising inside me, up to my throat, all the while trying to not let anyone know, and trying to see if he was breathing.
I couldn’t feel him breathing at all. He didn’t respond to anything I did …… rubbing his head, rubbing his feet or rubbing his stomach, which he hates.
He didn’t move.
And I suddenly knew that he had died.
Because I gave him a double dose.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I take the carrier on board and deal with this once I was in Houston? Should I say something to one of the gate agents? Should I wrap him in a bag and leave him in a bathroom trash bin?!
My mind was paralyzed and yet racing at the same time. And I was trying very hard to not cry in front of all those strangers.

My hand remained inside the carrier, petting him and praying that he’d be ok.
The last time I prayed that prayer things didn’t turn out so well.
To say the least.

But after a few minutes I noticed that his ears still felt warm. As did his feet. I knew that if he had really died, that wouldn’t be the case. So I just kept rubbing him, and feeling his ears. Then, right before we started boarding, I heard a little meow.
I cannot express the relief that I felt.

I was so fixated on getting him on the plane and continuing to rub and talk to him, that I sat in the wrong seat on the plane. The woman whose seat I was in said, none too kindly, “Excuse me!” I was bent over, one hand in the carrier, talking to Oliver when she said that. I looked up at her and she said, again, none too kindly, “That’s MY seat!” I was a bit confused and then realized that I had sat down in the row in front of my seat. So I got up, picked up my bag and the carrier and almost unleashed all of the emotions I had experienced in the last 30 minutes (panic, grief, confusion, relief, elation, worry) on her. But instead, I paused and then said, as sarcastically as I could, “Sorry!”
She saw the carrier and then suddenly got all syrupy and said, “Oh, that’s ok. I’ve done it before, too.”
Who knew that the sight of a pet carrier could calm the savage beast?

The flight was uneventful and Oliver slept for almost all of it, pretty much like last time, only he was much more sedated this time. I kept checking him throughout the flight.
And, just like last time, the drugs started wearing off right about the time we started to descend.

By the time we got off of the plane, he was yowling again.
Louder than ever.
Which thoroughly entertained everyone in the women’s restroom.
Not so much.

My friend Michele picked us up at the airport, and thankfully, he went back to sleep in her car.

He’s now hiding under my bed. This is the first time he’s been in this house so I imagine he’ll check it out a little at a time. He comes out from under the bed when I go into the bedroom, and he follows me around in there, but as soon as I head towards the door, he heads for the bed. And stays under it until I come back.

Thank goodness cats can’t write blogs.

Ladies and Gentlemen ……

American Ninja ……

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…… has me captivated. Truly. Inexplicably.
I’m not sure why.
But I’m contemplating putting a Ninja workout course in my back yard jungle. The Sons and I could practice together and become the first mother/sons trio ever to enter.
What?
Stop laughing. One guy was 56 years old!
Of course, he didn’t get very far, but hell, he got further than most of you could go!

Actually, I told Son #3 that I could probably do the first obstacle (the one where you jump from one pad to the other), and then I’d be done. Although, I think I could totally do that swing thing and jump to the rope obstacle, but there’s no way in Hades that I could even get one of those rings moved (or the posts moved, depending upon which state’s competition you’re watching. Which brings up a question … and an accusation: Why do the contestants not have to do the EXACT same course?? You can’t tell me that hanging on to that circle thing with your feet wedged into place, is just as hard as hanging on to that log-thing with no place for your feet to wedge into! I maintain that these competitions are unfair. And I’m sure that NBC really cares about my opinion.
But at least I’ve put it out there.)
Anyway … all that to say … I have NO upper body strength. Well, that’s not totally true. The barre classes have helped me gain some strength up there, although I may have lost it all now, since I haven’t been in a class for over 3 weeks. Sigh …… that’s a hell of a lot of work to waste.
There are no barre classes down here. Not less than a 45 minute drive anyway. I’m thinking about starting a franchise here in my community. Just so I can go.
How pathetic is that?

So …… where was I?
I digress so easily these days.
Oh yeah, American Ninja. In my back yard.
Yeah.
Let’s think about it: I’ve packed up my 5,000 square feet house (with some help from friends, but mostly me). I moved most of those boxes to the new house …… by myself (the movers moved most of the furniture and the really heavy boxes).
I unpacked most of those boxes and put things away …… by myself.
I re-unpacked everything when the painters finished. And hooked up our sound system. Then dug out our old CD player (that holds 200 CDs) and wired it in, too. And it all works. (I’m more amazed than anyone!)
I’ve trimmed the trees in the back yard.
I packed up all of the stuff that we didn’t sell in the moving sale and moved it all into one room of the house and into the garage. By myself.
I helped a guy load it onto a truck today, thus leaving the house almost totally empty.
And the garage.
And the attic.

I think I need a nap.

So yeah, I might be able to train for this Ninja show.
But now that I’ve typed all of that out, I don’t think I want to.
Wow, that was a quick turn around.
So much for American Ninja.
At least that saves me a lot of time and effort in putting one of those dang courses in the back yard.
I think I’ll fix a margarita instead and watch the wild life from the back porch.

So yes, the house is pretty much empty.

The last time I saw it this empty was the day that Jim and I were deciding to put an offer on it.
Back in November of 1997.
But who’s counting?
Besides me.

So does all of this mean that I can qualify for American Ninja?
Hell, no.
It just means that I’m tough in other ways.
And I admire those who do qualify.
And I really admire that tiny little woman who made it over the “Warped Wall” …… the first woman to ever do so.
You go, tiny woman!!

For those of you (and I’m certain that it’s most of you) who have no earthly idea what I’ve been talking about …… NBC …… Monday nights. Watch it just once.
And you’ll be hooked.
Or go read a good book.
Whatever.

Tonight Son #3 kept his crown of the king of grilling …… at least in my book. He made ham steaks with a jalapeño sweet and sour marinade that was very, very good.
And, he suffered through the burning that he got on his hands and face from cutting up, and grilling, the jalapeños.
No kidding, I thought for a moment that I was going to have to take him to the ER. He ran upstairs and jumped into the shower while I Googled “what to do for jalapeño burns” — mustard, rubbing alcohol, yogurt, or fresh lime juice …… I wasn’t sure if this was going to help him, or get him ready to be put on the grill.)
Thankfully, the shower seemed to help.
The mustard didn’t do all that much.

But the ham steaks were wonderful.

In other news (I really should just try to write every day, rather than every few days because SO much goes on around here that it creates wickedly long posts. Sorry.)
World War III is going on in my back yard.
Granted, it’s only between two parties, but that’s all it takes to start a war, right?
It seems that we have a raccoon who thinks he can waddle around my property, taking whatever he wants.
Which is a bit better than our first thought: Son #3 put up humming bird feeders, filled with the red sugar solution they love. When I woke up the next morning, I noticed that one of the feeders was gone. So I went outside and noticed that it had been tossed down the hill. After it had been drained.
After it had been carefully un-hooked from the stand Son #3 had hung it on.
Our thoughts? Some big, fat bully of a hummingbird was terrorizing the other little birds and stole all of our bird juice.
And then we put more thought into it …… and decided that it was some big, fat pig of a raccoon, who had carefully unhooked it, guzzled it all down, burped, and tossed it down the hill, like a Chicago Bears fan going through a 6 pack. (I lived in Chicago and I have a tiny love of the Bears so I can write that. Ha!)

Well, I waited a few days and then put a bit of the red stuff into the feeder and re-hung it.
Then, that same evening, Son #2 was in the kitchen and there was a shattering noise outside. I, being the deaf and aging old woman that I am, thought the sound came from the TV (just shut up, ok?!). He looked around and said, “What the hell was that?!” I said, “What?”. He said, “There’s something out there.”, while pointing outside.
And in that instant, I knew. I may, or may have not, uttered a swear word as I vaulted over the furniture and ran outside.
And there, broken into a hundred shattered pieces (or maybe 20), was the very beautiful, glass bird bath that Son #3 had brought home.
Why that fat SOB wanted to take a bath is beyond me, but he has crossed me too many times.
So now there’s a trap outside where the bird bath used to be. With a can of cat food in it as a lure.
A lure that fat slob didn’t go for last night.
We may have to try something else.
Son #3 swears that a Reeses cup will do the deed.
All of you Houston-area Peeps ought to love that! It seems that even our raccoons here in KW are snobs! They won’t go for anything less than chocolate!
WTH?????
I guess I’ll go pick up some Reeses tomorrow.
I’ll keep you posted.

OK, that’s it.
For now.
But as you all know by now, there will be plenty to write about tomorrow or the next day.
Never a dull moment.
You’re welcome.
Happy Tuesday.
🙂

	mysecondplana on 18 ……
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My Second Plan A

After my first Plan A ended tragically, and all too soon, I came up with my second Plan A. It took a while, but now I'm ready to live again. And live fully.

Tag Archives: widowed

Home Sick ……

San Diego ……

Forgive Me, Father ……

Like Sands Through the Hour Glass ……

A Photo Album ……

A Sample Day ……

To The Man I Love ……

Deep In The Storms ……

Ladies and Gentlemen ……

American Ninja ……