Darn Birds

I don't have any bird pictures to show you because none of them stayed long enough to have their picture taken.  First there was a Cardinal on the platform feeder but he flew off.  Then a Downy Woodpecker was hanging off the bottom of the feeder looking for a snack; he flew off too.  A Nuthatch visited the platform feeder for a seed twice but I barely laid my hand on the camera before it flew away.  A Goldfinch perched on top of the crook long enough for me to get the camera up and turned on before he took off.  Arrrgh!

All I have to show is this nice shot of the lantana flowers.  One of the hummingbirds visits these every day or so but I haven't been able to take its picture.  Of. Course.  I can't decide if the birds have gotten faster or if I'm slower.  I blame the birds.

I added a few rounds to the Seaman's Church Institute cowl this afternoon.  I'm not a blue fan but I like the denim blue next to the lime green on the needle.

My tenant texted last night that the garbage disposal was stopped up so I found a drain service and called in today.  I made an appointment for tomorrow but in the meantime Mr. tenant used a plunger and got it unplugged.  Hooray!  Way to save me $200!  But it won't be saved long because I have a dental appointment on Friday and I'm confident that my bill will be every penny of that $200.  At least.

2 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

Within an hour all three varieties of daily soups were finished, simmering in their pots, filling the kitchen with their aroma.  Brady invited the policemen into the back to have a bowl before they finished their work; then he called the Salvation Army and the women’s shelter and he and Naomi left Fay to keep an eye on things while they delivered the soup to them.  They were gone about an hour and the Naomi who returned was a different woman from the one who left. 

“What is up with you?” Fay asked her. 

“Did you ever go to a women’s shelter?” Naomi said.

 “No.” 

“Do not go unless you want to be shocked.  You should see some of those women—and their children.  I have lived in ghettos my whole adult life and I have never seen women beaten down and beaten up like I saw today.”  Naomi shook her head. 

“Did you think men had stopped beating up their women?” 

“Oh, not really.  I guess I had never seen the damage up close before.  The director lady had to make an announcement on the PA before she would let Brady carry in the soup.  It seems that some women are so downtrodden than even seeing a man sends them into fits.”  She shook her head again.  “It is a rotten shame that men get away with that sort of behavior.” 

“Well, not so many of them do anymore,” Fay told her.  “I think people are paying attention to that sort of thing and trying harder to keep it from happening.” 

Naomi shook herself like a dog shaking water off its coat.  “Hey, guess what Brady told me in the car.” 

“What?” 

“He said as soon as the police are done out front, we are going to start cleaning up and try to be open tomorrow.” 

“We are going to clean up that mess?” 

“Yeah.  Who did you think would do it?” 

“I do not know.  ServiceMaster or somebody like that.” 

“And who do you think would pay for something like that?” 

“Insurance hopefully?” 

Brady’s voice came from the office.  “Insurance will replace broken things.  You and Naomi and I are the cleaning crew.  So, you two ought to go home and change into different clothes because this is going to be one hell of a dirty job.”

They looked at each other, shrugged, and got their purses to go home and change.  Within an hour the three of them were elbow deep in the fruits of someone else’s labors.  Once the police gave the go ahead, they armed themselves with brooms and mops, rubber gloves and cleaners.  They started furthest from the door and cleaned their way toward the worst of it and they wore masks at Brady’s insistence. 

“You do not know what is in this mess,” he said when they protested.  “There is probably mold from the planter dirt, plus the coffee dust, and god know what else.  Put on the masks.” 

Fay and Naomi had tied bandanas over their hair to try to keep the dirt out of it and keep the sweat from running into their eyes.  Later in the afternoon the guys from the glass company came and started installing all new tempered glass in the windows, removing the plywood that Art from the lumberyard had put up to keep the weather and curiosity seekers out. 

Brady had the glass installers neatly stack the wood off to the side. 

“Art said he would not charge me for the wood if we took good care of it.  He will pick it up when the last window is in.”  He turned a stern look on the guys from the glass place.  “And all of the glass better damned well be tempered or your asses are grass and I am the lawnmower.  I will not be cited for having unsafe glass in my diner when I have paid for tempered again.” 

The foreman of the crew passed the buck.  “Hey, it was not us, Mister Gallagher, sir.  Talk to Mister Hansen; he is the one who ordered the glass and had it loaded on the truck; we are just the ones who put it in like he told us to.  Talk to him.” 

Brady waved a dismissive hand at his excuse making.  “I can not stand men who are always blaming someone else for their mistakes.  I say admit your screw up, apologize, and get it over with.  The world would be a better place if that happened a little more.” 

Naomi nodded her agreement. 

Fay thought that self-preservation was a part of everybody’s make up; she did not believe in taking blame you could maybe slide over to the next guy. 

All afternoon and into the evening they worked, cleaning and scrubbing, finding more of the restaurant’s supplies that had been destroyed by the vandals.  Brady started his cleaning by making sure the coffee brewer and beverage taps would work.  He heaved a big sigh when the coffee maker gurgled into action, dribbling a stream of hot water into the pan he put on the hot plate. 

“Well, we can serve coffee anyway.  I think the milk dispenser is toast; looks like someone kicked the spigot off or stomped on it.  It will never work again; but we can get milk from the Safeway, that will work fine.” 

Today's toss was a bucket of old salsa jars and other non-canning jars from the shelves downstairs.  Why did we save those?  *shrugs*  They went into the recycling and I put the box with four half-gallon canning jars in it into the car for Goodwill.  I hope I have a box downstairs so I can start donating the quart jars.  It's canning season!

--Barbara