Woodpeckers Flying

Usually when I take a picture of a flying bird, it's really blurry and you can't tell what kind of bird it is. Not today. I lucked out. The Red-bellied Woodpecker and the Downy Woodpecker were here at the same time. The Red-bellied was on the suet nuggets feeder and the Downy was on the round birdseed feeder. Then they decided to switch and I was lucky that I snapped the shutter at just the right time to get this picture. I think it is so cool.

Today is the first day of Novel November 2026. I was supposed to write 1667 words today. I only wrote 1397 words. Mostly because I forgot it was day one so I spent a bunch of time doing household chores and a little editing. It was six-thirty when I realized that I needed to get to the keyboard and pound away so I'm pleased with those 1397 words. I am also pleased that I just sat here, consulted my list of Street Fair ideas and typed, not caring if they followed any logical progression. That's difficult for me. I always feel like what I write today has to connect and flow from what I wrote yesterday. But it doesn't. It usually takes me a week of November to remember that, so I'm happy I got there more quicklier this year. (Yeah, I know that isn't a word. It makes me smile.)

 

I opened the bathroom window because it was so nice outside today (65 degrees!) and saw this. A dandelion. On November 1. In Green Bay, Wisconsin. This is not normal. Not even close to normal. I'm not complaining, mind you, I'm just reporting.

 

When I sat down to draw yesterday's gratitude journal page, I realized that I hadn't really done much yesterday beside listen to an audiobook. Then I remembered that I'd drawn that sad, bad duck so I put that on there too. Also it was sock-washing day. I've been wearing compression socks for a week because I pulled a muscle in my shin (I didn't even know I had muscles there) and the support helps it not hurt so much. I don't wash the compression socks in the washer, I do them by hand, so it was sock-washing day. No, the suds were not really pink but I thought it looked pretty.

 

Today's drawing of a Dog Rose (???) is so much better than yesterday's duck, I could cry. I've never heard of a dog rose. I think it's what Grandma Angermeier called a wild rose. It grows in thickets and heaps, it's very prickly, and it smells great. Whatever it is, this is better than the duck.

 

In other flower news, the Christmas cactus is just blooming along. None of the buds are open yet but there are a lot of them and a lot of pink, getting ready to bloom ones. Watering plants really makes a difference. Who knew?

 

Even though it was 65 today and I didn't wear a jacket when I went to the grocery or took a walk, I put flannel sheets on the bed and traded the woven cotton blanket for the electric blanket. I won't turn it on until I need it to warm up the sheets before I get in. I don't sleep with it on, I just use it so I don't climb into cold sheets. 

--Barbara