For the last couple of weeks, gulf fritillary butterflies have frequented our yard. Not just one or two, mind you, but many many of them. They fly fast and erratically all over, high and low. The upshot of it is, the passion vines (passiflora) are covered in caterpillars of all sizes, and the vine leaves now look very lacy. I hope there will be enough leaves to go around! I knew passion vines were host plants for some kind of butterfly, but forgot which one. I was hoping to host the monarch's, and may be doing so because I did add some milkweed plants to the yard. However, it is fritillary butterflies dominating at this point.

Many years ago, I spent time in Panama City Florida on the weekends. Late September and early October, the big king mackerel migrate back to the east and the city is alive with fishermen. It is also a time when the butterflies arrive en masse, and cover the whole town. Panama City is one of the staging areas for the butterfly migration across the Gulf of Mexico to winter in Mexico. It is an awesome thought, that these little critters have in their psyches the programming to make this migration--on FAITH? shall we say. On instinct?
Because the ones who leave this shore will not be returning, and the ones who do make the trip back will not know this place. It is awesome to walk along the sidewalks of Panama City on a warm and breezy fall day, and try to avoid stepping on the fallen butterflies, almost as many of them as leaves. It happens in late September and early October, and I came to call it BUTTERFLY WEEKEND.

Nature is wonderful. These small lifeforms come here like to the D-Day invasion, staging a mass migration over a big body of water, waiting for the perfect moment when the seasonal north winds will come down and sweep them out to sea and help them reach their winter destination.

When I was working on boats offshore, and this season would come, I felt such angst when I'd spot the butterflies winging their way erratically southward. Or probably southwesterly. Hard to tell with a butterfly. We would have butterflies land on our boat for a moment of rest, and then either die or be on their way. I know the same was true of migratory birds, but the ones who landed seemed never to live. I thought it was due to them preening their salt-coated feathers and maybe sipping salty water, because they soon died. One did make it, because I caught it, washed it good, fed it, and returned it to the boat deck. Or so I've always hoped it made it, because it left us to continue north toward land.

Anyway, all my life this season brings with is a desire to be on my way--somewhere; to begin a new venture--anything; to express the joy of life--always. It catches in my throat how wonderful it is to witness this great pattern of nature. May we always bear witness to the beauty of life.

Current Mood: contemplative

It rained last night, and got colder. Too cold for me to think about going downtown for the
day of festivities known as Joe Cain Day. It is the traditional day for covering Bienville Square with humanity, and parking the campers/motorhomes underneath the Interstate ramps near the municipal auditorium. Too much for me.

Bill is winding up the porcelain tiles for the sunporch floor, and we will soon be able to move furniture into it. Also at least ONE bird cage if not both of them. I tested Kimali and Kaycee in separate rooms this last week, and they seem to enjoy being apart. They sure did a lot of calling back and forth, and liked the separate attention.

We've had trees coming down all over the yard, and the men will be back over the 2-day Mardi Gras holiday to try and finish up. We still have 2 whole trees, 1 tall pine, and 1/2 of a twin-trunked pine to come down. You should have seen the wood hauled out of here this past weekend. The oak tree is turned into firewood, except for the huge trunks which will go to a sawmill for lumber. Also, I think the pines which are tall and straight can yield some 20' long and very wide boards. Just about no side limbs, so it would be clear pine. It is close to longleaf yellow pine.

I took lots of pictures, both still and mpg with my digital cameras. Looks neat to see the tree climber hanging off a tall delimbed pine, all strapped in, and dropping segments of the tree via
rope to the men on the ground who immediately place it in the trailer, delimb it, and haul it off.

Just trying out this to see if I can post from my account with TinyPic.com and it seems I can.
Lovely. Here is a shot of Kimali helping himself to one of my magazines.

Well, that was not exactly the case. My niece-in-law invited me to be her friend on Facebook, and I tentatively accepted. It feels a bit like riding bumper cars at the fair.
But interestingly enough, I already connected with some of my old online friends who also love parrots, and who drifted apart after AOL dismantled its Pet Forum, which was the best thing it had going for it. Now it seems we have a different sort of discussion possible, much more loosely organized and open.

And tonight it is early to bed. Tomorrow morning Scotland Yard will be here to remove the six trees from our small yard. What a joy that will be--I hope. I already moved the car across the street to a neighbor's driveway, so it won't get crushed, and the guys can park their vehicles anywhere they wish. My camera battery is charged up and ready to go. I already told the insurance company we were removing the trees BEFORE hurricane season. Seems to me like a very good idea. I called our sweet little neighbor behind us so she would not be distressed at the noise and mayhem going on with chain saws and men hollering for the next couple of days. I'll have to give the owner of Scotland Yards some of the action shots for his files.

Bill says that I should cook dinner for the next two nights since he did last night and supposedly tonight. However, Margaret gave us her homemade beef soup tonight, and all HE did was set the table. That does not qualify for preparing dinner, methinks. This debate began two weeks ago, when Girls Night Out occurred on the night it was my time to cook, and all he did was fix a sandwich for himself--which does not qualify IMHO as preparing dinner. He contends that he had to fix dinner period, and so I owe him. Who would have thought that we'd be debating such a subject! I am so amused at him, he is amused at me, and we are both such independent people accustomed to having our own way. I know he is for sure--all his career, everyone kowtowed to him as THE BOSS, while I was only at the last of my career THE CAPTAIN. And of course, being captain meant the crew did things MY WAY. I really liked that.
One of the little signs I found that gave us both a laugh is this:
"Let's assume I know everything, and get this over with." As I interpret that, it means,
"Let's assume I am right and do it my way."

We chuckle a lot about what it would have been like to have married 50 years ago when we were first engaged. I tell him that by this time, he would have been TRAINED RIGHT, instead of allowed to get so out of control. It would have been a hell of a ride. Both of us very creative people, filled with ideas, and we'd have had a dozen kids. I have no doubt about that. When he says, "I love you," I reply, "...And well you should." That is our ritual ever since we began doing it. To say, "I love you too," is such a limp routine response, that I don't think it carries any weight, no ring of truth to it. And he is even turning it around, using that response when I tell HIM, "I love you." You'd think we had been married all our lives instead of merely 2.5 years. At church when they announce the anniversaries of all the couples our age as being 50 and upwards years, I think it is just as amazing that we will stand up this July and they will say, "married THREE YEARS" but cannot add to that the 50 years that we lost due to my mother.

Overcast, intermittently the sunlight breaks through. The solar crystals in the south-facing windows do not spin today. Other than another Canadian Clipper due to blow through next week some time, I think wintertime has had it here. We are approaching SIXTY DEGREES today. At last!!

Bill moved all my blanketed flower pots off to the side of the garden a few days ago in preparation for Scotland Yards coming to take out six problem trees. However, the job is on hold until Monday week because the tree cutting crew is still in Houston dealing with hurricane cleanup from last year. I think Hurricane Ike was the culprit.
We are antsy to get this job done so we can get down to serious gardening. Bill's veggie sets are ready NOW to go in the ground, and he must put the direct sow seeds in too, else they will not produce anything before the plants bolt. I cannot move my tropical babies outdoors anyway, but the beauties under their blankeys need to take advantage of the increasingly sunny days. I cannot move them into position until those tall pines come down. After coddling them for years I do not intend to lose them at this point. Bill did break off some of my hydrangeas when he picked up the animal carriers I had turned down over the bushes. Next year, I will be more prepared to deal with cold weather by making plant cages from green-covered wire fencing with pine straw surrounding the plant from bottom to top. And, I hope we will be here early enough in the fall to trim back the perennial tops to avoid the appearance of death and destruction in the garden.

I discovered a new blog about garden sheds after I bought Debra Prinzing's book on sheds. STYLISH SHED AND ELEGANT HIDEAWAYS;BIG IDEAS FOR SMALL BACKYARD DESTINATIONS. It is published by Clarkson N. Potter. It has some neat examples and tells me that I am on the right track with my plans for the decrepit cement block garage in our backyard. Our house is stucco, and white, and this garage has a plastering over it of some kind of stucco. But once we repair the exterior, rebuilt a roof (there is no part of trusses or rafters remaining because hurricanes destroyed that years ago), and put in a new cement floor (tree roots lifted and broke the old one), we will have a place large enough for installing an Endless Pool in one end, and having my Teahouse and Greenhouse in the other. I really want a polycarbonate roof, turn the lift up garage door into a pair of French doors bumped out to look like a bay window. And, I'd love to have the roof raised more over the pool area even if that makes the building profile look like a shed roofline, or a saltbox. Failing total polycarb panels on the roof, I do want solar panels. There will be enough square footage on the roof to put many up there, power to heat the building in the winter and maybe the pool too. A sistern system to collect rain, a potting bench outside along the space between the privacy fence and the south side of the shed. That's where my dirty work will be done, not indoors. And if I'm lucky, we could put my parrots in this room where they will have lots of space and company as well. The pool being covered when not in use means it presents no real hazard to them, and I could let them fly around in this cozy tropical paradise. Of course, the floor would be tiled and a good hosing would clean it. I cannot wait to get started on this project. But of course, I will have to be patient. This economic downturn has put a hold on several projects, such as remodelling the kitchen and the bath. And the granddaughters are beginning to need college tuitions.

The annual rye grass outside the window is coming up splotchy but intensely green. I am pleased to note that one of the bird feeders now has diners coming. It is a squirrel proof feeder, but those rodents seem to know they can eat seeds dropped on the ground underneath this feeder. This was a very cold winter by Alabama standards, yet wild birds appeared to have a ready supply of food and did not rely on our largesse. Quite a change from the way it was when we left Massachusetts. I was going through over 50 lbs of sunflower seeds a week there. Bill said we had the fattest squirrels he ever saw. Our friends Sue and Joe are keeping track of the kinds of birds who visit the feeders. But I never saw squirrels as big as those up north. They were what I'd call gray squirrels, with a sort of brownish portion to their pelts, and then super white tips on their paws. The thick winter coats had whitish tips to the ends of the fur. I'm hoping that the one groundhog who tried to dig a burrow under the rock wall last year, will not try again this coming spring. He ran into ledge and had to move on, like to our next door neighbor's yard, but if s/he had babies, they will be looking for a place not too far from the parents. Bill absolutely hates groundhogs. When he learned that dachshunds were bred to go into tunnels and hunt badgers, even more ferocious than groundhogs, he was impressed. He said he would have owned a hundred of them. As it is, we have our little girl doxie, Dixie, a very courageous black-and-tan huntress. She is her papa's girl.

Talking about my garden and my love for designing pleasant living spaces gives me a sense of peace and calm. Maybe more later.

Come Thursday, which is Bill's 76th birthday, we will begin taking out the 4 tall pines, rotten oak, and scraggly sweet gum trees from our property. Mark Sutherland of Scotland Yards, a lawn maintenance and tree management company, will do the work. Our contractor-friend recommends him highly. With business slow this season, several members of his tree crew were gone to Houston TX for tree removal work remaining from the hurricane season. They will be back tonight, take a day of rest, and hie themselves hence for some work in our tree tops.

After that, well, the work grows more intense. Our old house had a security system by Hunter Security installed, and I will be adding that as soon as my bank account recovers from the tree removal. Bill is still putting in tile flooring on the sun porch, and that requires trimming the bottom of the outside door. So the security wiring and sensors must wait until he is done. Plus, I want to clean the windows before they add sensors to them. I suppose I am spoiled by the clicker unlocking my car instead of inserting a key, but that is what I'd like for one door of the house. Or else, a key pad which can be coded to let the bug man in with his code, our neighbor in with her code, and my brother in with his code. Many things are possible, some not practical, and other things are frankly more trouble than they are worth. However, I am sort of a techno geek, and I love electronic gizmos.

For instance, I just picked Bill a new cell phone, the Motorola Tundra. It is great for him. It meets military specs with its rubber coat, vibration and drop standards, somewhat resistant to wet environments but not waterproof. It has a bright screen, good volume, large buttons, loud ringer, and the speaker phone is very clear. I got it thru ATT without a contract, which I could not do online, so I had to go in to manage that. Wait until Bill sees how much it cost without a contract! However, I refuse to agree to keep the service for 2 years or more, even though I have no intention of changing providers. I think it keeps them honest.

Also, I ordered from HP a second printer like the one up north. The HP software doesn't seem to want to recognize a second model, even though only one is connected wirelessly. So I am buying the 7280 again, and hope that solves the problem. All I did was move my computer across the room, for pete sake, and now it says the printer is disconnected, and that is true for Bill's computer too, which did not move at all. Neither did the printer move. Anyway, the ink cartridges will be the same.

Well, the birds are about ready to move to the sun porch. I am fed up with construction dust on everything. Also, with it so cold I cannot leave my tender plants unprotected. So they are in the house and we are crowded beyond belief. If it were warmer weather, I'd be having a gosh-awful-big yard sale.
Tomorrow is trash day, not garbage day, and we tossed a couple of rusting ceiling fans. They looked okay originally, but after a while it was apparent the salt from Katrina got in them and the insides were rusted. It doesn't take much salt spray to ruin electrical equipment.

Pretty soon I will begin gardening at the church. We'll see how that works. Don't have time to discuss this tonight, but will try to improve my outlook on the ladies who want to tell me how to do it. I think I'll get my husband to tell them how futile their efforts will be. :)

Current Mood: cold

Very moving events on this day.
I can remember what my Daddy said after Nixon was impeached: "That is the only time in my life I ever voted for a Republican, and it will be the last time." Of course, he died in 1981 and did not have to live through all the years of dissolute Republican politics. I have been Democratic for all my life but did not know, until I went up to Massachusetts, that I was truly a "liberal." Somehow I always thought I was fairly conservative. However, I am a southerner, and a Democrat. I have been too polite to state my views on political issues because I was so different from my friends, my church associates, my coworkers, etc. But ever since I had the inspiration of the Obama campaign, and realized the failing principles of the past Republican administrations were destroying this country, I know that I will not be
quiet any longer.

I know that much of the southeast remains republican, which is strange to me. It was the "black republicans" after the Civil War who enforced reconstruction policies in the south. It was the Coolidge republicans who did to the country what the most recent republican policies repeated--and not just for the last 8 years, but back into the Reagan years when the movie star was delivering good speeches and filling the ROLE of President but was being controlled by the folks who brought us where we are today. It sort of reminds me of the old movie with Warren Beatty, PARALLAX VIEW. The departing President was a puppet of the Cheneys and Wall Street financiers and oil barons, and had fodder for brains. I felt that the country I loved so much, for which my ancestors fought for and helped build, was headed for dictatorship. It was embroiled in the most horrible class warfare, rich against poor, speaking to the fears and not the faith in our dreams. Divisive and not likely to unite us in the name of freedom and equality.

I can understand that the NAACP spokesperson who objected to the ante-bellum gowns of the Mobile Azalea Trail Maids was basing his attitudes on the past. It reminded him of slavery days. The past, long departed, is not buried enough it seems. He wants vengeance. He wants to deny one part of the populace of our country the opportunity to participate, to BELONG, to the great moment in history, when we actually make a stride forward. I knew when I voted Democratic in the great state of Alabama, this last November, that it was a vote cast into the wind. BUT, I went to great lengths to get it done. It was important to me that my vote be counted. I'm an old lady, yet I have appreciation for change, and for the betterment of the people in my country, my state, and my city. It is strange to think that Alabama, and the southeastern portion of our country, are the ones clinging to republicanism, which is an unnatural graft onto the basic philosophy of our region. The hard freeze this graft has gone through would, I prayed, get our folks back down to the hardy root-stock of a native plant.

At this stage in my life, I feel that I should and must speak out, maybe to give other white folks pause and let them realize it is okay to be Democratic again. We've suffered enough with the republican years. Now let us all face the future with one purpose, to restore worldwide faith in the American people and our democratic form of government.

I pray to God that our new President has the courage to do what it takes to get us there.

After a cool day, we are once again in the high 60s but we awoke to fog so dense the deck was dripping with it. Dixie and Moon Pie did not want to go outside this morning, because they never want to get wet feet.

Bill brought home a stack of plywood yesterday, which he elevated on bricks at the end of the driveway, covering the 4x8 sheets with a big tarpaulin to keep them dry.
He is installing the subfloor of the newly enclosed sunporch. I have to get the Italian porcelain tiles to finish the job, once he gets the subfloor levelled. Then
we will have the two African greys living out there. Of course, I plan to locate his
wingback reading chair there, with a reading lamp. The ceiling is narrow beadboard and I will also add large hooks so I can hang flower baskets there to overwinter them. This will have to do until we turn the old garage into my greenhouse.

Other projects around the house include painting the front bedroom. And then making the floor to ceiling curtains as a temporary measure until we decide what to do about the windows in the house. They get so much condensation on them, because they are not insulated, and I hate constantly cleaning them to remove mildew and dust. I do not think it is a healthy situation. Replacing all the windows will have to wait until we remodel the bath and kitchen. By that time, we may as well replace the old roof with the tin roofs which our insurance company recognizes as better withstanding hurricanes. Heaven knows, the deductible for hurricane coverage is high enough as it is, any relief will be welcome.

Come mid-January, Scotland Yards is coming to remove six trees for us. Four of them are tall pines close to the house, then a rotten oak and a sweet gum destroying the garage floor. It will take a few days to haul off all that wood! And our neighbor to the back fence wants them to remove about three trees for her. Getting these trees out now before they fall and damage the house is a wise thing to do. I will miss the pine straw for my flower beds, but there is plenty to be had up and down the street.

I ordered two new bird cages for Kimali and Kaycee CAG. Their old cages have rusted too much, and are difficult to roll around or keep clean. They were the only two cages to survive Hurricane Katrina, and they are pretty old. Kimali will be 10 this
March 18, and I bought his cage a year before he was hatched. I knew I would be getting "my grey" and when I found the cage on sale at the local bird fair, I went ahead and got it. Someone might enjoy having this strong cage, but it has too many bad memories for me.

The two new cages are not really large, but they are suitable for the sunporch space. And being white, they will not show the feather dust as easily as the darker cages. These two new cages by Avian Adventures will have to do until we make the garage into my greenhouse and can bring Kimali's huge stainless steel cage back from up north.
There is not enough room for such a large cage in the sunporch with Kaycee's cage and Bill's reading setup.

Bill is also growing broccoli, brusselsprouts and cabbages in small containers on the sunporch. He was amazed that the little shoots are up about two inches tall in only four days. For two weeks he worked outside shredding leaves endlessly and digging them into the soil of his new winter garden. It isn't large for the first year, but he is pleased with it. His garden is for veggies, and it is located on the north side of the house where the new half of the privacy fence was added last summer. It is also where the garden house was moved by truck from the river lots. It looks like a barn, is 12x16x8h with barn doors on it. My tropicalesque garden is on the south side of the house, where the old cement block garage sits, and my beds run the length of the property line both inside and outside that half of the privacy fence. Old bricks salvaged from the house we tore down serve as a patio and bed borders, so I can have
a New Orleans style courtyard. My tiny little koi pond will prosper once we take out that tall pine which keeps the water fouled with straw and cones.

Now that Christmas is over, I feel somewhat better. I have not been depressed in years, but somehow this year I did not feel the spirit. Whether it is the economy and
so many people hurting financially, or whether it is the health problems so many of my friends and family have to face, I don't know. Or maybe because of my own health, I find no joy in eating or preparing food, don't enjoy having a drink. I wish I could soothe every problem for those who are suffering or needful. I hope that Obama can rise to the occasion, for the world needs another Lincoln and Roosevelt all in one.

Okay, so I forget things, especially when I am away for six months and then return home. Or was I home up there as much as I am home down here?

The color of the Behr paint used for the top of the "big room" above the chair rails is called ONLY NATURAL, and I got it in latex enamel eggshell finish. Along with this finish I can use the Ralph Lauren "CANDLELIGHT" which is a pearlescent glaze to go on top of portions of the ONLY NATURAL. The areas where I want to apply it are inside the rectangles about 4x5feet surrounded by the white molding on the wall opposite the fireplace, above the mantle in that rectangle surrounded by white molding. Each of these rectangles has a 30x40 framed vintage European travel poster hung, to serve as a break in the length ofthis 34' room. It was simpler to make the gallery frames all black satin finish, except for one smaller poster that may end up down south. It is called ISLE DEL SOL, and since I call our Alabama house CASA DEL SOL, the poster will do nicely.

"Girls night out" is abandoned this week, because the two Bills want to go out for liver and onions, and neither can drive after dark. We'll have to scout around to find a third male who likes liver and onions and can also drive them to their weekly outing of just guys. I've gone without girls nights out for the six months we were up north, and my friends let me know how much they miss the occasion. I seem to be the common denominator to hold the occasion together. Too bad, because I wanted to have all these ladies form a network. At various times, we've had as many as eight women coming to our dinners at the Mexican restaurant up the road. We have a great waiter there, Raul, who can remember our eating preferences and is always courteous. He also helps us with our attempts to speak Spanish.

Bill is outside again with the leaf shredder, working on the bags saved from the trash truck. Not counting the ones already shredded, I see what must be 30 bags, about 30 gallon size, stacked against the privacy fence. He has grass dug up in the area he chose for his veggie garden. His garden is on the north side of the house, mine is on the south side....and never the twain shall meet! He thinks I am demented to plant veggies among my flowers, but that is the way I've always done it.

My order from Lands End arrived last night. I had to buy new sheets, blanket, and a down duvet for our bed. The old sheets were growing thin, and were salvaged from the house destroyed in Hurricane Katrina. Depressed me to lie on them, but they were sage green like the walls in the bedroom of Casa Del Sol. The new color is more to my taste, with chocolate brown flannel sheets for winter warmth, and a cappuccino polartec queensize blanket. The walls will soon be a faint tan, or antique white. I may have to darken it some, but not too much.

Don't have time to begin a discussion about the way I feel right now. It has been a long long time since I've succumbed to any kind of depression, but I'm thinking that may be the issue now. Perhaps getting involved again with my parish gardening chores will restore my sense of peace. Our Lady puts good ideas into my head while I do her gardening.

The group CELESTIAL NAVIGATIONS made several CDs which were primarily spoken words with musical accompaniment. One of the stories was about "life goes on."  I lost all the recordings to Hurricane Katrina, and did not replace them.  Maybe I shall one day.  But this isn't what I started out to talk about.

Bill and I are now old married folks, almost 2 1/2 years married. We've bought a home on the water--a gorgeous riverfront home--that was destroyed and torn down. Now we have a small cottage NOT on the water, which I call Casa Del Sol. It is in the same parish as the river house, so we can keep Our Lady of Lourdes as our church. We attended mass yesterday and were greeted warmly by Msgr Cusack, the Irish priest in his mid 70s. I value the comfort of this church, with its warm family personality, and the spiritual ease I get from working in the gardens of Our Lady.
I feel her hand in the turn of events which could have been disastrous, but which did not harm us.

After six months spent up in Massachusetts at Bill's home, it is wonderful to return to Alabama where my heart is. Sweet Home Alabama! My garden here did nicely with the attention of our neighbor across the street. Margaret cut the grass and watered the plants during the drought, so
we came home to flourishing plants everywhere. Also, our friend and contractor built the second half of a privacy fence on the north side of the property. Now Bill is already hard at work digging the ground for his new winter garden. He is delighted at the prospects of having fresh broccoli and snow peas. I am delighted that he has something to keep him occupied and out of my hair as I formulate plans to paint the bedrooms and move furniture--an activity he abhors.

But then, he saw what a difference it made to his Massachusetts house as I removed old and oldfashioned furniture, and painted rooms which had not been touched in more than 20 years. He did much of the construction work in this house himself, yet the lovely moldings featured in many of the rooms was not painted to stand out. I began a year ago when we were up here for the summer, to strip wallpaper off the upstairs bedrooms. I painted both bedrooms THREADED GOLD, a Behr paint color. One room I furnished for his elder sister the nun, and tried to entice her to come live with us by making it sunny and cozy. Yet she remained faithful to her order and would not leave them even as she turns 86 years old. The other bedroom I put 3 beds in, for our youngest three granddaughters. The youngest one was born after her true Nana died, so I am the only grandmother she knows. Thankfully her mom and dad are generously allowing me to perform fully as a grandmother. Without this generosity, I would never know what it means to be a grandmother. If I do this well, it is because I had a wonderful pattern to go by, having myself two great ladies as my grandmothers. They were very formative to my personality, I now realize.

Further work on his northern house includes tearing out an old closet in the bedroom and building a walkin closet for the master bedroom downstairs. I also ordered plantation shutters for four rooms on the front of the house downstairs., and they look fantastic. My design for including a bathroom expansion to make it an ensuite master and thus very uptodate, is on hold for a while. Space is tight in an old cape style house, and this has to be done just right to work. When we left there and headed south, Bill was in the middle of installing the Bellawood ash flooring in the living room (a real parlor, you might say) to complete the changes in there. He already had rebuilt the fireplace and face it with black granite tiles and great new moldings he cut himself. I painted the crown molding and base moldings, both very wide, a satin white enamel (Behr Ultra Pure White). Then I took the gallery frames bought on sale from KMart after Sears bought their stores, and hung photos I took of Mystic Seaport in CT, taken when we visited there in December 2 years ago. It sort of gives the room a New England touch. The room is small and simply furnished. It has a new sueded loveseat from Boston Interiors, two Queen Anne armed dining chairs with white diamond upholstered seats,  a Queen Anne 60" console table which I bought online and put together, the wrought iron glass-top nesting tables from Pottery Barn, and a armillary based lamp also from Pottery Barn. Above the mantle is the original water color painting by Maggie Guinn which was a wedding present, and it is a great blue heron. Her paintings hang in several museums, but most of all she and her husband Tom are dear longtime friends of mine. Oh yes. This front parlor is painted Behr
flat enamel WARM TERRA COTTA,  which has to be my favorite living room color of all time, since I've used it now in four houses. It goes from a flower pot color by day to a soft old barn red by lamp light.

Another color I like is the Behr FRESH PRALINE in the flat enamel. It is a much paler tannish terra cotta I suppose. It is the color in the master bedroom. There is only crown and base moldings in the master bedroom, which are also a satin ultra pure white as are the plantation shutters.  From the living room, you can look through this bedroom and on into the sunporch where the paint color is Behr LILTING LAUGHTER. Not very descriptive of the color, but it is a gorgeous shade of peachy tan. VERY pale. Since this porch has all glass sliders for exterior walls, I hung floor to ceiling white sheers over these three walls. I used 100-lb weight stranded picture frame wire to attach the curtain panels with clipon rings. And up there with the wire I attached LED rope lighting, which turns on/off with an unwired remote battery operated switch setup. In case of cold weather such as now, the curtain panels can drop and hang to provide a little more insulation to the windows. But otherwise, some long crystal-like necklaces secured to the wall by cup hooks become the jewelry which pulls the panels back to reveal the outside lawn and shrubbery.  Bill has his swivel rocking upholstered reading chair/ottoman (bought on sale from JCPenney mailorder) and a floor lamp at one end of the room. In the middle I have a very inexpensive bistro table and 2 chairs in distressed white wrought iron. At the far end of the room, away from the wall, I have an open cabinet which serves to hold some of my container plants for the cold times they cannot stay outdoors. Above this cabinet and above the bistro table, pots of staghorn fern and Bolivian Begonias  hang on brackets not too high but what they can be tended easily. Since this room has a tiled floor, I put 20x20 carpet squares down the room so I could walk comfortably barefoot to let the dogs out to their fenced dog run. Because there are coyotes in the town, we have to keep an eye on our two small dogs, a dachshund and a maltese. This sun porch has lots of woodwork, so most of the painting was white satin enamel.  The one wall with no windows had large amounts of moldings on the wall, so I picked those moldings out in satin white enamel also. Then the soft Lilting Laughter color gave it the gentlest appearance! Everyone says it looks quite southern, for some reason, not at all like New England. It surprised me but maybe they think it is southern just because I did it?

When it came time to move our bed from the study back into the master bedroom, I could think about what color to do the study. I had not used much of the LILTING LAUGHTER or the FRESH PRALINE so each can had more than half a gallon in them. My choice was easy to make.
I painted the moldings around the room all with the satin white enamel, from crown moldings, base boards, chair rails, and the upper/lower wall moldings. Then I put the lighter color, LILTING LAUGHTER, above the chair railing and the darker FRESH PRALINE below it. With the white satin plantation shutters on the three windows, it was another fantastic room. One wall of built in bookcases was the same white.  The closet which ran the length of the room  had two wooden sliding doors, which I faux painted with the wall colors, and made faux molding with the white paint, so to the casual observer the doors disappeared. There was enough room between the two closet doors for the wide desk to sit, and my tall leather desk chair became good comfortable seating.  We now had room to bring in the wrought iron Provence chaise lounge I purchased two years ago from Smith Hawkens, along with its natural colored foam cushion, and then located the second upholstered swivel rocker bought from JCPenney online. To keep the small room clean lined, I put the HP Photosmart C7280 all-in-one printer AND the electric shredder in the closet.  The Linksys router for the computers was setup on the windowsill behind the shutter,  and now our two laptops can get online wirelessly, and also print wirelessly. I hate all the wires going everywhere, so this is a clean setup. Finally!

The dining room was all white, except for the buffet and the Queen Ann table and chairs. I found two very modern crystal lamp bases at Target. They were originally $80/each, but I got them for $20/each. Soft white bulbs in them helped tone down the starkness of the white walls, and then I got from Wal-Mart the fabric padded place mats in all colors, found the multicolored plates from both Kohl's and Linens and Things, and that brought some color into the room. The flooring in the kitchen and the dining room is mottled gray granite tile, and it looks pretty good. I upholstered the seat bottoms of the dining chairs with a gold dupioni silk fabric I bought several years ago for our Alabama river house,destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. before I could use the fabric. I bought a white fruit bowl for the round dining table, and filled it with red apples, to further bring color to this room. With the white plantation shutters on the big oldfashioned picture window, afternoon light looked great coming into the room.

Now the only remaining main floor room was the "Big Room" as Bill always calls it. It is 34x13 and has the highest ceilings in this house. It also has a fireplace which sticks out into the room with its hearth and recirculating firebox, it has four pairs of sliding windows DOUBLED, so there are really EIGHT pairs of sliding windows, giving a very thick exterior wall and windows difficult to clean.  The hallmark of this room is the poor lighting and the wiring for wall plugs. Half of each plug is wired to a switch, so it is difficult to set up things like TV, stereo, computers, lamps, etc, and keep good general lighting.  Since Bill hopes to sell this house he did not want me to buy new sofas and chairs. Instead, I proposed buying a new sectional sofa for his daughter so we could take her old one. I think it was quite creative as a solution myself.  When we return next summer to this house, I will make the white denim slip covers for the sectional. I already bought the fabric online and it is on a roll in the master bedroom closet. This room was in sad shape, so I used a roller to apply two coats of ultra pure white paint. I am a believer in Behr paints, and only use it for my wall paint projects. Then I had the job of cleaning and painting the DOUBLE sliding windows. I did not do the outsides. since it was beginning to be too cold for me outdoors. Then I put a color on which Behr calls NATURAL.....(somethingorother, which escapes me at this moment, and I cannot find my color chart)....but this color was for the flat walls above the chair rails. Once again, all woodwork was painted Behr ULTRA PURE WHITE satin. But I wanted to get a dark color for below the chair rail. The one I picked made me absolutely hungry to spread it over icecream like chocolate syrup. It was Behr MELTED CHOCOLATE, and it was a satin enamel. It took two coats on the side of the room I could finish before we came south, but it is gorgeous. I installed on one set of the sliding windows the same kind of stranded picture frame wire for curtains as on the sun porch. I also put in the LED rope lights using a wall plug which turns on with a switch, to help with the level of general lighting in this room. However, I only hung one panel of curtains. I ordered this 117" wide natural colored cotton scrim, a cotton sheer fabric, and it goes from ceiling to floor quite nicely. At 117" wide, one panel will do each half of a sliding window/door, and give some privacy without cutting off all natural light. The old curtains I took down were nice enough, but not made to close, and so at night these huge expanses of glass looked like black holes. Privacy was not a real concern because the back yard is not visible from any neighboring house, but esthetically the new curtains will improve the cozy nature of this room.  The fireplace woodwork was also painted as the white woodwork, and turned it into a very nice feature. One day it may be rebuilt flush with the exterior wall, entirely outside the room, but for now it looks okay--just not beautiful.  I replaced the two old fashioned wall fixtures with half-moon shaped uplights on the wall, and added three swing arm wall lamps above the long sectional sofa. In the far end of this long room, I put a tall torchere bought from Linens N Things (soon to close forever),  moved an unfinished Queen Anne writing table  in place in the other corner so one could look out the tall windows to the south end of the house and watch birds at the feeders. I used one of Bill's Windsor style black university chairs there, and as an end table for the sectional sofa, I bought a lateral two-drawer file cabinet from the local Staples store in dark wood which I put together myself. We can always use more filing space, and I'm thinking he will enjoy putting his laptop computer on the writing table when we return next year.  And before I forget it, I also bought in a box, online from Home Decorators, their Savannah model TV cabinet in white painted wood. That little project I also put together myself, and it looks great. It brings some of the white shutter look into this room, and makes it less formal looking. I do not think a family room should be formal at all. If any room in this house is formal, the living room or front parlor comes closest to getting there. I think it is the wool oriental rug 5x8 feet which does the trick, and of course the balanced arrangement of buffet lamps on the console table  and arm chairs on either side of the fireplace.

The last room (besides the unfinished bath), is the basement room Bill calls the "Blue Room." I do not like blue at all, it is a very depressing color which eats up light, in my humble opinion. So that will change at some point, but I know he will still call it the BLUE ROOM. Maybe I'll paint the DOOR to this basement room a nice lively royal blue and put a door knocker on it. The old trestle dining table is sitting in the middle of this room where it will serve as his worktable for drawing plans and maybe spreading out his papers as he writes or does his taxes. He needs such a place where he can leave his things out and undisturbed. The main floor study is my place. And I don't want him using the upstairs bedroom which is meant for his sister the nun.. He makes such a mess of it all when he does. And the dogs like to jump on the bed when he is up there. At this time, I am moving to builtin shelves in the Blue Room  all his technical books about engineering and science and education. I don't think he ever threw out a single book from his career as an educator and engineer. Far be it from me to do that at this stage in his life. As long as there is room for them, and the dehumidifier keeps working, they will have a home there. I think he will be comfortable with this arrangement. 

My place in the basement is the erstwhile laundry center. There we have the ironing board and all my cans of left over paint. Plus I have my brushes and canvases put away for the day I can get serious about art. Right now, I just do computer painting digitally with Virtual Painter 5, or Paint Shop Pro XII.  The only canvas I painted was a personalized version of something from Art.com. I didn't want to pay the high price for that professional framed painting, so I painted a personal copy. I put our little black/tan doxie in the center, with the bottoms of our feet sticking up on either side, and of course out from under the covers at the foot of the bed, with the text across the top, MENAGE A TROIS. Bill never loved a dog before, and he is totally smitten with Dixie, so she sleeps under the covers down between our feet. He does not understand why doxies love to be under things, but that is natural to them. Thank heaven she has not become a digger too much, although we've Dixie proofed the privacy fence down south to keep her in just in case she begins to dig.

Well, ciao everyone. I'll have to find the color for my family room and update that omission, and I might think of something else later. Photos of our vacation to Italy, and the remodel/redecorating progress can be found at http://community.webshots/user/captgrisgris if anyone wishes to compare the written description here with the visual depiction there.

Current Mood: peaceful

 ....the more they stay the same.  
Noting that the last old entry was prior to Hurricane Katrina, and I was concerned then about hurricanes and tropical storms. A little more than a month later, Katrina came to town, and nothing will ever be the same.

We bought this gorgeous house on the river and we had just moved into it in July. We were not yet married, and I had devoted all my resources to redecorating the house, buying new appliances, and refreshing the garden area.  I think one of the albums posted on Webshots shows the real before and the real after of our lovely house which no longer exists.

The next July, we married. Only 50 years after we first got engaged. That is a story all by itself, both the original engagement and the break which parted us without either of us knowing why. Then never in touch for all the intervening years, all the things which happen in life, and finally, a time comes when the whirlpool of life brings us close again. It's been a hell of a ride. A wonderful life, filled with pain and loss, love and acceptance. 

Here I sit  tonight in Alabama and Bill in Massachusetts. A quick trip south to pick up the pets turned into a long recuperative period for me, when my back got out of whack and my diabetes went crazy. All is well now, and I prepare to drive the 1500 miles north with 2 dogs, 2 parrots, and 1 cat, to be with my dear hard working William. 

The current tropical depression/storm is tonight going ashore around Ft. Walton, which is good news for everyone on the coast. The sooner these things go to ground, the sooner they lose their punch.  I think everyone was concerned it would do the big surprise the last storm did, turning overnight into a hurricane after lazing around on the beach for a long time. 

Leaving things secure in this little house, which we named Casa Del Sol, House of the Sun, is easier since it is not on the waterfront. Although it is south of Interstate 10, it is close to it and the elevation here is 20 feet above sea level. 

God bless everyone who is in harms way of any sort this wet night, and keep them safe to see the new day. Life is good.

Current Mood: contemplative

Tropical storms are the bane of my existance these days. Having a house on the river south of I-10 is not easy on my nerves. My fiance Bill is coming down next week from New England to see our new home for the first time. I pray constantly that it suffers no damage from storms.

No event to write about, but many thoughts come to mind.
Like, a call from someone I had not heard from since 1958--that got my attention. It has had the effect of a stone tossed into a calm pond, ripples going out in all directions. I'm still thinking about it too.

A dialog is developing between me and the long lost college chums from those years. Another friend sent an email today. All of us remember.

We had something very special in those days, along with our naivite and ideals we had some very smart females. Our social life became very focused when a group of young men joined us in a "deus ex machina" sort of way. The whole school had a massive blind date with the young men from another place. Our group of girls was fortunate to be paired with young men who were also friends, and were also gentlemen. Ah, we had such good times. We had great discussions too. No other group I know of was given a reading list to facilitate meaningful exchange of ideas. Much better than the class reading lists we were given.

This was before women's lib, before the hippies were even common--although I do remember Jack Kerouac's first book, stereo being a new big thing, the sister of a classmate living a bohemian artist life in the loft of an old building downtown, when drugs were limited to the ghetto and the musicians.

Most of my college friends went on to become very distinguished in one way or another. I'm very proud of them and their accomplishments. One of my friends quoted September Song...."...and the days dwindle down to a precious few...."

And she listed what she is now giving priority to completing. It is about time for me to do the same.

I was so privileged to have this group as a part of my growing up.

October is almost over and I can breathe a little easier. I managed to create a new webpage in memory of Steven. This is the first time I've been able to voice the grief in words for others to perhaps read. I've tried so many times, and the words wouldn't come out.

Sunday music on the radio is now the Blues Cruise, a locally generated/created program which I dearly love. It was once the Sunday Jazz Brunch that I listened to, but it kept switching stations and I sort of lost track of it. TA would enjoy this Blues program. He'd be playing along with his harmonica.

Certainly I don't miss 99 and 44/100's % of the people I met while working offshore in the oil field. They frequently tried and succeeded at making my life difficult. I can say that during a 20 year period, I made two friends who will be lifelong friends. TA and Bob.

Not everyone is on my sh*t list, of course, they are on a list of acquaintances. I do distinguish between friends, acquaintances, associates, and OTHERS. It was my privilege to be the mentor or professional helper to several young men just beginning their careers as boat captains. It pleases me that they are still in touch personally, since I am long gone from the working boat world.

One day I may turn loose of the feelings I've pushed way way down. Let them come up and reveal what it was like being an unattached woman in a world ruled by (mostly) good old boys, the major oil companies, and everyone on boats was considered "boat trash", especially women. I know that I had to suppress the feelings in order to do the job. I wanted to be there on the water, to finally make the big bucks, to control my time. I paid a big price for this. It cost me my health, it cost me my looks. it took away my personal life. I had to develop a hard outer shell to protect the sensitive soul inside. Finally I listened to my brother, who told me that it was changing me irrevocably, it was killing me. It pushed the button for me. So I quit.

Actually, I didn't quit. I came home and didn't go back. A slight difference.
Women of my age, who were raised traditionally, went through the Women's Lib movement as outsiders. It wasn't natural for us, but we got the hang of it when midlife gave a crisis to many marriages. Then we saw it swing back the other way, with young women willingly foregoing independence or equality perhaps in hopes of a return to the nonexistant security of a long gone era. The 1950's were only real on TV.

Hmmm, I am way too glib with all this. I don't want folks to get the idea that you can dispense with the events of a few decades in a couple of sentences. I was a small child when WW2 was going on. I can remember some of it quite well. The present generation of an age to go to war with this terrorist warfare, they have no concept of the ways that an all out war can change their lives. Change their response to life. The boys who went off to VietNam came back with scores of traumas to deal with. PTS syndrome will be something yet another generation of Americans will have to deal with, factor into broken homes, disconnected careers and incomplete educations. Little kids without parents--dads and moms alike in this one more than any other.

Have to say I wonder if I will be the old woman with a shawl standing beside the road as tanks roll by headed for the front lines. A quotation I found the other day was something like,

"It can't happen here" tops the list of famous last words. I think it was David Crosby who said it.

Well, this particular time I am testing. One two three? Anybody there?
I downloaded and installed the LiveJournal, expecting it to do it all offline and then connect to upload what I wanted entered as a journal entry. But, not that way as I find out.

It is so HOT tonight. The wind blew all afternoon, and rained intermittently as well. All the birds were unsettled. I brought Georgie Girl inside and she went immediately to the bottom of her sleeping cage looking for that latest perfect egg. So I put it back for her. She gently cradled it between her shoulders until it rested under her featherless crop. I feel so bad for her. Poor thing, she would love to have a baby macaw to love. What kind of sadness has this wild caught creature known in her life? It breaks my heart. I wish there was some way to have a fertile egg for her to sit on, hatch and then raise as her own baby. I never heard of anything like that before, so it is just humanizing a wild creature.

Meanwhile, Kimali the African Grey is having a ball messing with my mouse, the mouse pad, and he has moved the cursor to different spots about 3 times so far and I've had to make my corrections. Sigh. He has two keyboards to his credit so far, and this cordless one I thought would be less vulnerable. He is such a computer nerd. He has his own screen name and goes to bird chat himself. I personally do not like chatting much, but Kimali does. He is calling Camille, his favorite Maltese. Kimali is my honey chile.

I will close for now, check this out, and see if I like doing the journal "blind" like this, or if I really like the online direct method best. It sure doesn't look like much this way.

My first Saturday off in over a year, and it is gray, overcast, and raining. Not really complaining, because it is a quiet and intimate feeling today. Oops, it is beginning to get windy, and the trays belonging in the bird cages tumped over. I like to let them air-dry after washing them.

One of the young men at the boat store told me he is so tired these days. He is having nightmares which disturb his sleep. It is the sad aftermath of the World Trade Center/Pentagon tragedy. Subconsciously I think so many young men are wondering what impact this will have on the events of their lives. Whatever we call it, this is a war. Not against anything so concrete as another country, but a shadow world of hatred that crosses all boundaries--national, racial, and religious. I believe even the hacker underground is a part of this. Misguided sociopaths are terrorists waiting to be recruited and used.

Mother didn't feel like going with me to the grocery store this week. I was looking forward to watching her drive the battery-operated gocart through the store. Better than watching a kid on the bumper car ride at the fair. She has less and less strength, and I try not to call attention to it. She is still living alone, but she is losing small battles every day. She told me yesterday that she went to see the wig lady and gave her a crocheted turtle. I asked her if she drove herself. No, a friend took her. "I won't drive myself anymore," she said. I know what a big loss that is, for a woman as independent as she is.

And the pain is coming more now. She waited all day for the pharmacy to deliver three new scrips. As many allergies as she has, it is hard to get a medication which will not hurt her as it does its job. And I am already grieving inside. We cannot talk about it, I don't want to discourage her. She said she would do something "next year........if I'm still here," she added as an afterthought. I hope we have through Christmas as a good time. One last Christmas.

Thursday morning I uncovered the bird cages in the sunroom, and looked out the window at the bayou. Surprise surprise, there was a pontoon boat drifting out with the tide. I recognized it as that of my nextdoor neighbor, the one who died about two weeks ago. His brother stays there now, so I called him. It was about 6:30 in the morning, so I apologized and told him what was going on. Then I got the boat hook and ran to my finger pier where the back end of one pontoon was barely caught. Wow, was the tide high!! The boat had floated off its cradle/lift and was off to see the world. Tides are higher than normal the last few days. There is a weather system coming which is pushing winds from the south and that brings water higher along our bayou. New moon isn't until the 16th, which will bring the higher high tides of the moon phase. This is all weather driven.

There was another lovely creamy white egg in the bottom of Georgie Girl's sleep cage this morning. She was down there covering it, keeping it warm. She hadn't pooped in the cage at all. All the bottom papers were shredded, she was kind of purring at me. This is her sixth egg since June 1. I left it there, and she stayed on it for about two hours, then came out for her breakfast. I took her to the big outdoor/screenroom cage, and wow, did she drop a huge poop there. Such a loving and cuddlesome girl she is. I weighed her and she now tips the scales at 952 grams. That is up from 850 when I got her in mid-April. She seems to be holding at this amount. I kept the long tail feathers she molted. She isn't plucking those, but she did pluck the ones on her chest and some upper wing coverts. Those distressed me when I found them. She didn't like being shut in the cage. I think that was the problem. But I couldn't go off to work and leave her unconfined in the Screen room. Sydney the Goffin too bit her on the wing when she tried to climb his cage. Poor girl, as crippled as she is already, I don't want anything more to happen to her.

Current Mood: busy

After a day of rain with overcast skies, today was a lovely October day. Fresh feeling air. It was cool last night, and most of the birds spent the night indoors. For the ones who remained outside in the screened-in bird room, a cozy tent for one and a wool Navy blanket for the other came in very handy.

I'm looking for a flannel shirt for Georgie Girl, the blue and gold macaw who plucks her body feathers. It will help keep her naked body warm in the coming months. Kimali CAG (male African Grey) loves her to pieces it seems. He talks to her, asks her to give him a kiss, to tickle his head, and then he tells her she is a good girl. Of course, she will have nothing to do with him. It is a case of unrequited love.

Tiger Lily the six-months old kitten who was recently spayed, developed a lameness in her left hind leg somewhere in the hip. I am still not too sure what happened. But I kept her in a crate to immobilize her for a while, and to keep the two Maltese from playing so rough with her while she recovers. Yesterday she made it off the paved front stoop area far enough to do her business in the flower bed, but had a hard time squatting down. To relax her, in case it was a pulled muscle or pinched nerve, I'd given her a taste morning and evening of Bach's Rescue Remedy. Four drops each time. She slept well. This morning, she was eager to go outside and picked her usual spot for the potty. She ate her dry food, drank her little portion of milk, took a couple of bites of liver, and then moved around with a more natural gait. Camille, who loves to drag Lily around by the back of her neck, was more considerate today.

Sometimes Lily goes on hunting treks into neighboring yards. I'd just as soon she stayed home, because one neighbor is very likely to harm her. But she came back to squeeze between the front gate and the post--and I wonder if that is possibly where she hurt her left rear hip squeezing through there. She is growing up, and what she once did easily, is now a very tight fit. She showed us her catch of a big brown anole, and she didn't want to relinquish him when the dogs got close to her choice morsel. Lily growled at them to stand clear. Finally, I was able to separate her from her live toy, and I put him, minus his tail, into a hanging basket in the sun. This big old anole is more than likely the papa to all the tiny ones I've noticed everywhere.

Our Moccasin Landing is a good place for newts or salamanders also. In the back yard, which slopes down to the bayou edged in limestone rip-rap, we have countless critters slithering in the grass. I leave the snakes when I have a choice. They will take care of the rats if they try to colonize here again. Lily knows her job, and without any instruction has caught a rat and a mouse--I think the big one was a rat, too big to fit my definition of mouse anyway. Those two she brought to me as a gift. I really appreciated her effort if not the gift.

In mid-September, I took the Fabulous Pink John Boat, DEAR JOHN, to pick up trash for Coastal Cleanup. My friend Sue and I managed to retrieve about 65 pounds of assorted bottles, cans, fast-food wrappers, buckets, ice chests, styrofoam plates and cups, from my little bayou. We had a great time, felt good about DOING something for the environment, and got a tee-shirt out of the deal too. It gave me an idea to do this for our bayou about once a month. Our young teen boys need a project to do, and one that involves some action. I've given one of the boys a life vest and an old paddle from my days working offshore. He has a derelict boat which he found in the bayou. So far, the water patrol has stopped him for no operator license, no safety equipment, no letters on the boat. Apparently no help from his father. He has a strong urge to take to the water though. I want to help him if I can.

The neighbor who lived between us fell dead one night a week or so ago. This nice man was befriending the young teen who has many problems with his father. Schotz talked about that a few days before he died. He also talked about when he died he would be leaving a nice house and boat and dock for his family to enjoy. Of course, he was a retired bachelor, never married, and his family has their own lives to lead. I don't know what will happen to this little house next door now. He kept the grass cut so nicely, everything clean. It was furnished like a very impersonal motel room, bachelor style as my friend Rusty said. He had his own set of priorities.
I will miss seeing him sitting in his boat tied up to his dock. That was his favorite place to sit and watch the neighborhood activity. I'd toot my horn as I drove across the bridge and he'd wave at me. A nice old man who never cooked.

Well, time to check the temperature outside. The sun is getting low in the west now. Don't want little featherless Georgie Girl to get cold.

October is the saddest month
The wanderlust which comes upon me with the change of weather is more pronounced in recent years. I know why that is, but am not ready to discuss it now.

Tonight we have a meeting of our Parkway Pride organization. We've worked hard for several years at projects improving a part of town which is surrounded by water and has one main artery serving it--The Parkway. Hence our name.

At tonights meeting, we will honor our recently-defeated City Councilman, Mabin Hicks, who for eight years or two terms worked hand in hand with us on numerous projects. He had a positive attitude, and he was willing to get his hands dirty right alongside us. Some of us worked hard on his election campaign. I know I did, and it was my first politically active effort in my life. I felt I owed it to him for all the help he gave us. When he lost, we were very discouraged. But maybe, just maybe, this new younger man coming in will not ignore what was so well begun by his predecessor. Heck, we won some awards. We made the rest of the city stand up and take notice of this grass roots organization. I am very proud to be part of it. Being vice-chairman of the group is an honor.

My friend and neighbor Rusty is handling the celebration for tonight. I know it will be a good one, because she is an excellent cook and party planner. We will have about 14 invited guests, and then our regular membership, in attendance.


My flock has increased to 12 birds now. In July I couldn't resist the charms of a baby Patagonian conure, and so Joey came home with me. So did a nice dome-top cage for Scarlett O'Hara, the cherryhead conure adopted at the request of my bird vet. Scarlett belonged to two elderly ladies. One was going into a nursing home, the other was afraid of Scarlett. They loved her, and wanted a home where she would not be sold or used for breeding. They boarded her at the vet for her quarantine because I had another bird at home in quarantine at the time.

Georgie Girl macaw, an abused and physically handicapped parrot, was rescued in April by a kind young lady in Georgia, and she called me to take her. I was apalled at the state of health she was in. Well, I found out June 1 that Georgie was a female when she laid her first egg. Pretty good indicator she was a female!! Sweet sweet Georgie Girl. From the time she got in my car to drive home, I talked to her and she never never bit me. Never to this day. I cried at the way she had been crippled and abused. Her poor body was plucked, she was breathing laboriously. Oh my, my heart went out to her. And she must have sensed it.

My mother, who I refer to as Moe in writing but not to her conversationally, is dying of cancer. Transitional cell carcinoma, the oncologist calls it. Nothing to be done. Moe didn't accept that and we went through a series of chemo treatments, which nearly killed her until she called a halt. It is hard for me to see her struggle with this intellectually, and emotionally, because she has always been a fighter. It is a hard thing to accept there is no way around this mountain. As the country song says, Lord this time you gave me a mountain, a mountain too hard to climb.

Moe and my long departed Daddy were married on October 27, 1935. And on October 27, 1995, my only son, my only child, Steven, took his own life. And that is what I have such a hard time with. It is why October is the saddest month.