Wednesday's Putterings
Topics contained herein:
Bluebirds, a movie day, starting again.
Weather / Phenology:
A second “storm” deposited another two inches of snow outside last night. I’m hardly feeling this one. I think R-made good time on his commute. On Monday, the day of the real snow storm, he was on the road for several hours.
Monday was a difficult day, one saved perhaps by my wild birds. I trudged down the stairs and into the dining room, reluctant to survey the landscape that had been plunged back into full winter. The chickadees, my chickadees, were flittering about the snow-encased feeders on the patio. I pulled on my rubber boots, grabbed my leather gardening gloves and went out to brush away the snow and add seed.
The morning progressed. Sister D- called and we talked for hours about sad things. I watched the wild birds descend on the feeders in droves. The chickadees and dark-eyed juncos and cardinals ruled for a long time. A small flock of gold finches came in. Some of the males had a decidedly yellow cast but they are still in winter plumage. All three of our regular woodpeckers showed up throughout the morning. (Hairy, Downy and Yellow-bellied.) In the early afternoon, the blue jays and the squirrel invaded.
I assumed, when another flash of blue caught my eye, that another jay had found the food source but I was wrong. I focused on the new arrival and gasped. A bluebird. I couldn’t believe it. With 5-6 inches of fresh snow and more falling, with the wind raising small snow devils and the temperature about to plunge, a bluebird had come home. It looked so sad and cold that my heart broke. Bluebirds are insect eaters for the most part. I pulled a book from my shelf and read that they will sometimes take suet. I told Sister D-, who understands about such things, that I had to go. When I carried out some suet cake to scatter on the patio table, I startled all the birds of course. Imagine my surprise when I realized that a second bluebird was perched on a nearby shepherd’s hook. He flew to the eve of the roof and trilled at me.
After I withdrew as quietly as I could, most of the birds came back to enjoy the fresh suet. Though the bluebirds continued to fly from branch to branch and appeared to examine the suet, I never saw either of them come down to eat. One of them rapped at the window a few times. It seemed deliberate but I don’t know what it was trying to accomplish. It flew straight at the window at low speed. At the last second it tried to hover while pecking and scratching at the glass. I assume there was a reflection there that it didn’t like. I’ve never seen that kind of behavior before.
We lost a hen yesterday (Wednesday) - one of the red ones that I regret buying last spring. She was in the nest box with two eggs. She looked peaceful enough. I suppose it could have been the cold. Young masterL--, who loves to help us with the chicken chores, thinks that it’s like “the women who die when they are having a baby”. His sister gave birth just a month ago. I wonder how many nights he laid awake worrying about her.
The cockatiels have four eggs at last check. They promise to be exemplary parents. I had a lovely visit with the male a couple of days ago. When I opened the cage to give them some fresh soft food (broccoli, whole wheat bread and carrots) he strolled right on out the door and stepped onto my knee. He picked at my nightgown and hair, eventually climbing my arm so he could offer to nibble my lips. I was nervous about that because he’s been so defensive and bite-y lately, but he was very gentle. He let me scratch his head twice. I offered him a piece of broccoli which he examined VERY carefully. He nearly touched his eye to it but wouldn’t eat. On a whim, I tasted a bit of it. He became quite interested and tasted it himself. We shared a little snack before he walked back into the cage and directly over to the nest box - where he quietly chattered at his mate for a while.
Mood Summary:
Not good. I got my period yesterday. That was an unpleasant moment. I had been feeling mope-y and angst-y all day. (Okay, in truth, I’ve been weird since Sunday night … and possibly longer than that, judging by my lack of entries.) Two refrains kept echoing through my head, leave me alone and what’s the point anyway. I’d worked myself into a fine dark mood. I’d decided, once again, that life is a farce and that we are all just marking time. Just too-too existential. When I used the bathroom, I saw the blood. I started to cry then. How disappointing it is to discover, again, that I am nothing more than a text book example of a pre-menopausal woman.
I'm only 38 for godsakes.
I’m tired. I don’t want to mine my soul for yet another vein of energy and will. I don’t want to gather my wits and pick up the pieces. Except, of course, I do. I’m sitting here at the keyboard aren’t I? The wheel will turn and I will become productive in a few days. I will trust my family and friends again. The sun will shine. All of that will be lovely and I will like myself.
But.
Taking the long range view doesn’t help much. I know in a bones and sinews kind of way that the wheel will not pause when I’m feeling good either.
I’m just tired of being a caricature. I feel guilty for inflicting myself on the people around me. (That’s why I don’t write here sometimes.) I’ve been contemplating converting to private entries. Some of my reasons are even real - I worry about my family, for example. My son doesn’t yet read this stuff but my husband and daughter can. None of them are doing well right now.
My social network is not in great shape. Sister D- is just barely hanging on to her sanity. Dear Mz K- is struggling with major life changes. R- is coming to terms with his return to not-hypomanic land. M- is adjusting to an exponential increase in her responsibilities. Ch- is working very hard on getting along with his teacher and I’m not helping as much as I could. I’ve drifted away from my other friends … and when that happens I have a hard time mustering the will to chase them down.
My own predictable, cyclical pouts and furies pale in comparison to the event-driven fluctuations with which these people are coping. My internal stress seems self-inflicted … even to me sometimes. It’s my job to help them when they have problems. At the least, I should refuse to add to their worries.
Accomplishments:
Ha. Ha.
Oh wait … I watched - no shit - five movies and a couple of television shows yesterday.
Five Gratitudes:
1) De-Lovely (Cole Porter and his amazing wife.)
2) Proof (Anthony Hopkins … legacy, family responsibilities, madness)
3) Mind Hunters (decent distraction-nice little twist)
4) Good Night and Good Luck (Murrow/Friendly and their times)
5) Flight Plan ((Jody is such a scrappy little thing isn’t she?)
Exercise / Step Count:
Not even doing yoga.
Next Tasks
(tasks = 4 per day / focuses = 4 per week / W = writing goals / Z = this week’s zone)
*Use timer to control current obsession:
1) Morning Routine
2) Dishes
3) Laundry
4) General picking up
5) Writing: might as well do keeping score today
6) Zone: who the hell knows
F: Stand up, dust off, start again.
F: $
F: Yoga / Walking / Supplements
F:
W: start working again
Z: Zone #3 -- Upper & Lower Bathroom / Crafts Room
Goal Level Behaviors
2006 Next Little Bit List
Routines
Bluebirds, a movie day, starting again.
Weather / Phenology:
A second “storm” deposited another two inches of snow outside last night. I’m hardly feeling this one. I think R-made good time on his commute. On Monday, the day of the real snow storm, he was on the road for several hours.
Monday was a difficult day, one saved perhaps by my wild birds. I trudged down the stairs and into the dining room, reluctant to survey the landscape that had been plunged back into full winter. The chickadees, my chickadees, were flittering about the snow-encased feeders on the patio. I pulled on my rubber boots, grabbed my leather gardening gloves and went out to brush away the snow and add seed.
The morning progressed. Sister D- called and we talked for hours about sad things. I watched the wild birds descend on the feeders in droves. The chickadees and dark-eyed juncos and cardinals ruled for a long time. A small flock of gold finches came in. Some of the males had a decidedly yellow cast but they are still in winter plumage. All three of our regular woodpeckers showed up throughout the morning. (Hairy, Downy and Yellow-bellied.) In the early afternoon, the blue jays and the squirrel invaded.
I assumed, when another flash of blue caught my eye, that another jay had found the food source but I was wrong. I focused on the new arrival and gasped. A bluebird. I couldn’t believe it. With 5-6 inches of fresh snow and more falling, with the wind raising small snow devils and the temperature about to plunge, a bluebird had come home. It looked so sad and cold that my heart broke. Bluebirds are insect eaters for the most part. I pulled a book from my shelf and read that they will sometimes take suet. I told Sister D-, who understands about such things, that I had to go. When I carried out some suet cake to scatter on the patio table, I startled all the birds of course. Imagine my surprise when I realized that a second bluebird was perched on a nearby shepherd’s hook. He flew to the eve of the roof and trilled at me.
After I withdrew as quietly as I could, most of the birds came back to enjoy the fresh suet. Though the bluebirds continued to fly from branch to branch and appeared to examine the suet, I never saw either of them come down to eat. One of them rapped at the window a few times. It seemed deliberate but I don’t know what it was trying to accomplish. It flew straight at the window at low speed. At the last second it tried to hover while pecking and scratching at the glass. I assume there was a reflection there that it didn’t like. I’ve never seen that kind of behavior before.
We lost a hen yesterday (Wednesday) - one of the red ones that I regret buying last spring. She was in the nest box with two eggs. She looked peaceful enough. I suppose it could have been the cold. Young masterL--, who loves to help us with the chicken chores, thinks that it’s like “the women who die when they are having a baby”. His sister gave birth just a month ago. I wonder how many nights he laid awake worrying about her.
The cockatiels have four eggs at last check. They promise to be exemplary parents. I had a lovely visit with the male a couple of days ago. When I opened the cage to give them some fresh soft food (broccoli, whole wheat bread and carrots) he strolled right on out the door and stepped onto my knee. He picked at my nightgown and hair, eventually climbing my arm so he could offer to nibble my lips. I was nervous about that because he’s been so defensive and bite-y lately, but he was very gentle. He let me scratch his head twice. I offered him a piece of broccoli which he examined VERY carefully. He nearly touched his eye to it but wouldn’t eat. On a whim, I tasted a bit of it. He became quite interested and tasted it himself. We shared a little snack before he walked back into the cage and directly over to the nest box - where he quietly chattered at his mate for a while.
Mood Summary:
Not good. I got my period yesterday. That was an unpleasant moment. I had been feeling mope-y and angst-y all day. (Okay, in truth, I’ve been weird since Sunday night … and possibly longer than that, judging by my lack of entries.) Two refrains kept echoing through my head, leave me alone and what’s the point anyway. I’d worked myself into a fine dark mood. I’d decided, once again, that life is a farce and that we are all just marking time. Just too-too existential. When I used the bathroom, I saw the blood. I started to cry then. How disappointing it is to discover, again, that I am nothing more than a text book example of a pre-menopausal woman.
I'm only 38 for godsakes.
I’m tired. I don’t want to mine my soul for yet another vein of energy and will. I don’t want to gather my wits and pick up the pieces. Except, of course, I do. I’m sitting here at the keyboard aren’t I? The wheel will turn and I will become productive in a few days. I will trust my family and friends again. The sun will shine. All of that will be lovely and I will like myself.
But.
Taking the long range view doesn’t help much. I know in a bones and sinews kind of way that the wheel will not pause when I’m feeling good either.
I’m just tired of being a caricature. I feel guilty for inflicting myself on the people around me. (That’s why I don’t write here sometimes.) I’ve been contemplating converting to private entries. Some of my reasons are even real - I worry about my family, for example. My son doesn’t yet read this stuff but my husband and daughter can. None of them are doing well right now.
My social network is not in great shape. Sister D- is just barely hanging on to her sanity. Dear Mz K- is struggling with major life changes. R- is coming to terms with his return to not-hypomanic land. M- is adjusting to an exponential increase in her responsibilities. Ch- is working very hard on getting along with his teacher and I’m not helping as much as I could. I’ve drifted away from my other friends … and when that happens I have a hard time mustering the will to chase them down.
My own predictable, cyclical pouts and furies pale in comparison to the event-driven fluctuations with which these people are coping. My internal stress seems self-inflicted … even to me sometimes. It’s my job to help them when they have problems. At the least, I should refuse to add to their worries.
Accomplishments:
Ha. Ha.
Oh wait … I watched - no shit - five movies and a couple of television shows yesterday.
Five Gratitudes:
1) De-Lovely (Cole Porter and his amazing wife.)
2) Proof (Anthony Hopkins … legacy, family responsibilities, madness)
3) Mind Hunters (decent distraction-nice little twist)
4) Good Night and Good Luck (Murrow/Friendly and their times)
5) Flight Plan ((Jody is such a scrappy little thing isn’t she?)
Exercise / Step Count:
Not even doing yoga.
Next Tasks
(tasks = 4 per day / focuses = 4 per week / W = writing goals / Z = this week’s zone)
*Use timer to control current obsession:
1) Morning Routine
2) Dishes
3) Laundry
4) General picking up
5) Writing: might as well do keeping score today
6) Zone: who the hell knows
F: Stand up, dust off, start again.
F: $
F: Yoga / Walking / Supplements
F:
W: start working again
Z: Zone #3 -- Upper & Lower Bathroom / Crafts Room
Goal Level Behaviors
2006 Next Little Bit List
Routines