I Read a Book

All day, I sat at the table and read a book.  It felt good, kind of naughty, but good.  Then I changed into workout clothes and went out to the Y so that MF could encourage me to stretch and lift and plank for half an hour.  I will say that my lower back and legs are a tad achy right now.

On my way to the Y I stopped at Fleet Farm for a branch saw so that I can free the soaker hose where it's trapped between the retaining wall and the volunteer tree.  It looks sharp, doesn't it?  I'm looking forward to using it tomorrow.

The other day's toss was a box filled with all kinds of clippings and mementos.  I found my last Evansville, IN report card from 5th grade. Mrs. Clements and I were not a match made in Heaven.  In fact, I got "N" and "P" in "deportment" that year (which means Needs Improvement and Poor) and I remember she and I butted heads regularly.  I carried many a note home to Mama.  Not a great year.  It was probably a good thing we moved up here after 5th grade.  That Little Dutch Tulip Girl book was at Grandma Stephan's house and we read it a lot.  I was glad to see it.  That's Grandma Stephan's sister, Aunt Irene, in her basketball sweater.  Their team was city champs in 1928 and Grandma said that they had the biggest crowds at their games because they wore shorts instead of bloomers.  Scandalous!



Somehow I happened upon a blog written by a woman naturalist and was happy to see that she had a book called Yellowstone Sketches.  It's watercolors and essays, I can't wait to dive into it.  The other book is about children walking during the full moon and what you see and hear.  I thought LC and OJ might enjoy it when they're a little older.

25 March--Tropical Obsession. 

They don't look natural, like real birds, when they fly. They look like cartoons, their elongated necks in the lead and their spindly legs trailing behind. Even the sparse lump of the body spreads out making barely a hump, only the wings slowly flapping changes the vision of them from alien being to something quite possibly earthly and natural. The vivid pink of their feathers is lost in the deepening orange of the sunset, their silhouettes slice across the sky and their raucous honks sound too much like Canada geese to be believed. Nola lay on the chaise longue on the patio facing the sunset, her empty glass barely held by her fingertips above the tiles as she watched the skein of flamingos trail across the sky on the way to their roost in Venezuela, sixty miles across the sea.

When I crossed the river on Saturday afternoon I was happy to see that the white pelicans have returned.  I love watching them fly and turn because sometimes the angle is just right that it looks like they disappear.  It's a god's wonder that I don't ricochet off the side of the bridge when I see them; I can barely take my eyes off them.

This evening I had supper with my renters so we could put the new Mr. on the rental agreement and they could tell me of their adventures in Rome and Assisi.  They met the Pope!  Really!  They have pictures and everything.  Very cool.  After I took my Tylenol bedtime snack just now I was happy to see that I've got a chiropractor visit tomorrow afternoon.  Hopefully she can rearrange my spine so that my back stops hurting.  Of course it's muscles that I worked hard today so maybe not but I can hope.
--Barbara