Apparently one is supposed to say ‘Rabbit, Rabbit” first thing in the first day of the month. Not sure why but hints of good things happening are implied.
It was easy to rabbit trail on this first day of June since it is my favorite month. Why my favorite? Well, thank you for asking.
my inner feelings revealed
School ends in June—referring to most K-12 students. Knowing that summer break’s imminent arrival created an anticipatory exhilaration. And I suppose students felt that way too. I know as a teacher I did.
Flag Day! Not only is this a day to honor our nation’s flag it’s my birthday. Yes, not everyone can claim the truth that people hang the flag out for them on their birthday. That’s what I believed because that’s what my mother told me. Believed it. I still do, actually.
Family birthdays. Winter must have been long because we have a plethora of family birthdays in June.
Summer solstice. Shades of Shakespearean delight as summer officially begins with the solstice. Watch out for fairies and wayward thespians if walking in the forest.
wood you care for a walk?
5. Settling into summer mode. Even though May provides some bodaciously warm days there remains a sense of “just kidding!” since May still tosses in some rain and inclement weather. June seems more confident in providing consistent blue sky days.
6. Birds and blooms. Giving credit to April and May for nudging winter to pack up and leave for a while, June ushers in the season of winged friends and garden flurry. My backyard is a small slice of paradise as hummingbirds and assorted feathered friends cavort amid the feeders and bird baths while I appreciate the lavender, lilies, and other blooming details. And the busyness of bees is a bonus. 🐝
7. Then there is the celebration of the hammock. Reading, lounging, napping—aah, so nice.
As retired empty nesters the hubs and I are on the low key retirement plan. No RV or exotic journeys are on the agenda. Doing jigsaw puzzles, reading books, talking walks, backyard birding, and watching a good mystery series are adventurous enough for us. Going Costco and lunch is a big outing for us.
I will confess we will get really crazy now and then and binge three episodes of Dr. Blake pushing our bedtime past 10:30 pm.
Now this might either sound like an extremely boring way to spend what is considered our twilight years or it might be an ideal of retirement life. To each their own, eh?
Three years into retirement and we are in a groove and spontaneity is perhaps not so much on our minds anymore. Staying at home is quite pleasant actually. Why spend money and have to deal with other people? I know—this mindset does limit date ideas when we do decide to go out.
So on the third rainy day when cabin fever was setting in my no-let’s-stay home husband got a glimmer in his eye and suggested going for a drive.
Yes, it was still raining out. But getting out was needed, plus maybe spontaneity has its place. I assented and off we drove.
Truthfully, driving around town in the rain is not that fun although parking the car overlooking the marina proved rather pleasant.
As we sat there gazing at the rain languidly connecting with the bay I laughed as the windows began steaming up, wondering if cars passing by were wondering what we were up to. It’s nice to know that after 40 years of marriage we still can generate heat in a parked car. Admittedly it was all talk and no action.
It is nice that we still have the capacity of great conversation after four plus decades of marriage. The topic at hand was why were there year round seagulls residing at an inland lake. In our thirty or so years living in a town that boasts having an impressively large freshwater lake that has always been on my mind.
So we asked Siri, which I have named Jarvis, after selecting a British voice for my iPhone AI.
Well, they aren’t seagulls. In fact there is no such thing as a seagull. There are only gulls. And some live by the sea.
Sea period. Gull period.
My goodness that stumped us. How do I possibly unlearn a lifetime of calling a bird by the wrong name?
The point of this post is that if we hadn’t veered from our comfortable lifestyle for a bit of spontaneous getaway time we would not have learned a most enlightening fact.
So—take a moment to do something a bit different than usual (a hearty recommendation is to stay safe and sane in your decision) because you just might have an opportunity to learn something worth knowing.
Yes, and the bonus of our outing is realizing that I am my husband’s best gull friend.
Since retiring from teaching (two years come June) I am writing more, since my excuse of not having time because of how much time teaching requires is no longer my safety net of non productivity.
I diligently try to write from 9 am to 2 pm and even though the hubs will pop in and say a brief “hi” as he does retired guy stuff around the house, I have to say writing is quite solitary.
However, I have discovered writing has become less solitary since I have set up a bird feeder, birdbath, and squirrel platform outside my office window. My bird buddies, an ever changing rotation of chickadees, nuthatches, and sparrows brighten my day. The squirrel adds hilarity as it plots to get more than its fair share of birdseed.
The other day a white-crowned sparrow discovered the feeding station as well as wayward seeds on the windowsill. He hung out all day.
A personable sparrow
At times it seemed as if he was peering in at me. Wanting to encourage his return I sprinkled more birdseed on the window ledge. The sparrow did not return, instead the resident squirrel crashed the party.
Yes, it is big for a squirrel
I do not get as much work done, unfortunately, with all this distraction, but I did manage a blog post.
Old Punxsutawney Phil’s record of correct predictions is not impressive. According to the Stormfax Weather Almanac Phil prediction percentage is a mere 39%. He’s seen his shadow more often than not which means a longer winter, with stats showing 84%.
Here are his stats since 1887 when the tradition began:
Saw shadow (six more weeks of winter): 107
No shadow (early spring): 19
Partial shadow: 1
No record: 10
Did not appear: 1
On the other hand, when I spot a robin, the first appearance goes on the calendar. The robin knows when to appear and is not going to have a calendar date decide when spring shows up. Robins have a savvy that doesn’t need a whooping crowd and cameras. Robins just know.
After weeks of gloomy gray skies, intermittent snow flurries, dribbly rain, and cold weather, we woke up to blue skies. Honest to goodness cerulean blue, no clouds, some chilly breezes, yet blue sky and sun makes for a great day. The birds and squirrels were frolicking in the yard, merrymaking about the birdfeeders and there in the corner of my eye I spied my first robin of the year. Calendar time!
I’m in Okinawa, Japan, meeting my new granddaughter and engaging in some grandmother time. It takes a household of adults to take care of a newborn.
As a break from grandma time my son took me sightseeing and here are the highlights:
The Botanical Gardens
This a popular site with both locals and tourists. The gardens are interspersed with petting zoo exhibits. My very favorite was the capybara enclosure. As a favor to bloggy pal author Mike Allegra, I shared his book with a capy, who definitely showed an interest in a story about his fellow mellow rodent pals.
My son convinced me to feed the monkeys and not being enamored of these critters (thanks to PBS and Disney, I know what they are capable of doing) I went in with great hesitation. I was immediately mobbed for the sunflower seeds we purchased for them. There’s a monkey on my back proved quite true and then some.
Moving from beasts we fed some beautiful birds.
At least one typical tourist pose needed
We then traveled from the lush gardens to the other side of the island for lunch and a passing visit to the American Village. More to come in Part Two—stay tuned.
As our backyard birding intrigues continue a new player has arrived on the scene, actually one player and two cohorts.
We have been used to our little feathered friends: juncos, chickadees, sparrows, finches, the odd guest of cedar waxwing, and obsequious robin.
Then one day a raucous “shack shack shack” sounded from the front yard. Looking out the window revealed a flash of brilliant blue amongst the leaves. Further inspection showed a bird larger than the usual batch of birdies. I recognized the bird as a stellar jay from my Washington state childhood days.
Seeing one after so many years, and caring more about birds now, I observed how odd the stellar jay is in appearance and mannerisms.
First off, they are quirky. They jump about from branch to rock to feeder to birdbath all with flourish of squawk scattering all the feathered residents to safety.
Clearing the competition
Another aspect is their size. Compared to the diminutive chickadee the stellar jay, with its black top-notched hood, long tail, and considerable wingspan, is reminiscent of a pterodactyl.Sounds like one too.
The way it eats is worth a mention. It’s a gobbler. It snatches up the birdseed as if it is guilty of sneaking from the larder. Not a dainty eater it gulps down the food with head raised, moving quickly to secure the next mouthful.
Multiple these shenanigans with two more stellar jays and it becomes one entertaining circus. It’s especially amusing when these big blues try to clamber on top of the bird feeder. They flap their wings trying to balance and forage. It’s laughable.
Should they stay through the winter they will provide a colorful splash on the snowy landscape.
Fall into reading. I think that was on a poster in the workroom of the library I worked in years ago. A book is fanned open and a child willingly, with a smile of joyful expectation, dives into the book. Falling into the adventure of reading is how I view the books I bring home.
Falling into reading takes on a different meaning as warm summer days morph into crispy cold mornings and evenings. The sun is is out but a light jacket is needed to stem off the occasional breeze. Reading outside in my hammock is diminishing as the days are often cloudy. I’m hoping October still has a few nice days for al fresco reading.
Overall the month held a diversity of good reads ranging from nonfiction to spy thrillers to historical mysteries. Here are my five star reads for September: ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
What It’s Like to be a Bird: From Flying to Nesting, to Eating to Dinging—What Birds Are Doing, and Why by David Allen Sibley
image: Penguin Random
Having been brought up on Audubon’s field guides and turning to Cornell’s website for research and guidance, I’ve missed out on Sibley’s contribution to birding. What a find!
This book is a fine place for beginners to start or it is lovely visit for those familiar with birds. The illustrations are captivating and the info bits and trivia create a special experience. If I had a coffee table this book would be the prominent feature.
The Cat Who Could Read Backwards by Lilian Jackson Braun
image: Amazon
Having heard about this cozy cat series for some time I finally decided to try out the first one. Even though the sixties attitude is a bit off-putting with its gender roles, the mystery itself is surprisingly engaging. KoKo the cat is definitely the star of the show. Looking forward to the next book in the series.
The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon by Alexander McCall Smith
image: Amazon
McCall Smith is back on track with this 14th installment to his No. 1 Ladies Detective series. He presents a combination of intriguing cases and interpersonal situations that harken back to earlier successes. The characters are changing and growing which keeps the plot fresh: Grace has her baby, Charlie begins to grow up, JLB attempts to become a “modern man”. Yet, Precious changes little, remaining content being “traditionally built” and remaining reflective as she approaches life and her cases.
Above Suspicion by Helen MacInnes
image: Thriftbooks
A spy thriller that is reminiscent of the old 1940s films (apparently this book became a film)—very 39 Steps in its “innocents-getting-involved-in-dangerous-espionage” plot. Set just prior to Germany invading Poland when Europe was on edge, a British couple is enlisted to locate an agent. They are to pose as typical vacationers, but become entrapped by the Nazi machinations when they attempt to complete their mission. Characterization of British, Americans, and Germans are evident, without being stereotypical. The author also provides strong opinions about the “new Germany” and how far various nations will go to prevent another war.
Considering the book was published in 1941 it is almost prescient some of the outcome in the story. As a side note, the author’s husband served in MI-6, which no doubt lends an authenticity to her action.
Swan Light by Phoebe Rowe
image: Amazon
Switching between 1913 and 2014, the saga of Swan Light, a lighthouse, is unfolded with impressive detail and lyrical energy. Silvestre Swan, at 83 years, has tended the lighthouse since its inception. His days are intertwined with it to the point of a symbiotic relationship. Yet, there is no record of Swan Light. Mari is a driven marine archeologist who is hired by a wealthy, (rumored to be 100+ years) to find the lighthouse that disappeared. This is a fascinating story of goals lost and found, of the past reluctantly revealed, and of the present celebrated. An impressive debut that has the elements of family drama, a heist movie, and a light romance.
As much as I enjoy reading by a cozy fire with a cup of cocoa nearby, I am so reluctant to give up reading outside and will strive to bundle and enjoy my remaining sunny days as long as I can.
One of the lovelier aspects of spring returning is the flurry, fluttery returning of birds. I especially like the robins cheerup salutes of this season as they parade on the lawn feasting on worms. No robin poems of notice yet, so this dandy tribute to blue birds will suffice:
Who can make a delicate adventure
Of walking on the ground?
Who can make grass-blades
Arcades for pertly careless straying?
You alone, who skim against these leaves,
Turning all desire into light whips
Moulded by your deep blue wing-tips,
You who shrill your unconcern
Into the sternly antique sky.
You to whom all things
Hold an equal kiss of touch.
Mincing, wanton blue-bird,
Grimace at the hoofs of passing men.
You alone can lose yourself
Within a sky, and rob it of its blue!
I Woke: — Night, lingering, poured upon the world Of drowsy hill and wood and lake Her moon-song, And the breeze accompanied with hushed fingers On the birches.
Gently the dawn held out to me A golden handful of bird’s-notes.
There are so many lovely images resounding throughout. I envision summer–standing on a hill overlooking a grassy meadow, the sun slowly cresting the horizon and in that crystalline moment a trill of robin song adds to the joy of another morning, another day of promise.
Pam Webb 