Jaci Dawn

Nine little goslings. Four go exploring and five take a nap.

How sweet is that?

Well, we finally got a break between storms and the piles of work on my desk to go for a walk today (not really: it started pouring on us because my walking partner & I decided to cross the street to see the baby geese).

Not much to see because this was as close as we could get.

There’s at least three babies there. I’m wishing I had a big old zoom lens right about now because my enlargements loose quality quickly.

This one decided he wasn’t comfy under that goose and headed for the other goose. A sibling next door looks up.

It was damp enough that all of the goslings were hunkered down under a parent’s wing (or two). What was interesting to me was that both parents – male and female – had goslings stuffed up under the wings. The goose that is standing is watching that youngster and keeping a jaundiced eye on us. We decided to go around behind the shrubs and take the rest of my photos.

Looking at this mother goose, I am struck by how her children have themselves tucked so tightly against her for warmth and how calm she is about the imposition.

The sentry in the middle has lost his gosling (it joined the others under mom) and I can’t tell if the goose to the far right has any babies under his wings (but he probably did).

They kept an eye on us, but it was beginning to rain and it was apparently nap time, so none of the geese really wanted to take flight or alarm.

“Come on, Mom! Make some room under your wing!”

Drawing an analogy from the geese, my day took a huge parenting curve. My youngest had been in the throes of moving into her very first apartment. Sunday, they came and borrowed my little truck to move things. I threw in a tarp and a rope. This is all new territory to my girl and her boyfriend: they have been “couch surfing” but now that he has a steady job and they can afford a place of their own, they are making the leap from semi-homeless to real adults.

Tomorrow my girl will be 19.

They had to gather belongings from three different sites, including our house. On Sunday I pulled all of Chrystal’s boxes out of the attic and set them out for her (all but one). I numbered the boxes when I put them in the attic (1 of 15 – or whatever the number was) and on the last one, I penned “box #such-and-such has only scrap book items in it and is in the other side of the attic, behind several other boxes.” I left that box in the attic. She also has a crate of fine china still in storage here (Old Country Roses for those who are curious: my mother collected fine china for each of us kids and this was the pattern she chose for my sister. I am green with envy).

She called me this morning to tell me they would be by the house to pick up the boxes and, oh by the way, we have a load of laundry we need to do and it’s a dollar here and…”

I said “how many loads do you really need to do?”

“A couple.”

“Just do them all, OK? It’s fine with us and your sister used to always come by and do hers.”

She called me back around 2 to let me know she’d finished two loads but still had laundry to do so they would be back tonight…

So when I came home tonight, it was to several loads of laundry in the laundry room and a couple of kids sitting around, waiting. The nice thing is that we sat around and talked and laughed.

When they left, they apologized (can I put !!!!!! there?) for “taking up our time and using up our appliances and keeping my truck one more day.” APOLOGIZED.

Hey, kids: you are FAMILY. This is what family does. Sure, parents sometimes act like it’s a burden, but really – you’re our kids. We stretch out our wings and try to cover the kids with our pinion feathers to keep them dry and out of the weather.

We loan out our washer and dryer and make subtle inquiries about what furniture or small appliances they need and we make mental notes. We loan out our cars. We let them take up our time in the middle of the week, waiting for the laundry to dry.

Being a parent is about being uncomfortable in a lot of ways. Goslings up the wazoo is one.

Loaning the washer and dryer is another.

I’m just glad I can be a Mother Goose sometimes, ya know?

Just some funny orange fungi.

The goslings were hiding when we walked today, so no baby geese for the blog. However: there are two families of goslings, not one. Of course, the only time I see them is when I am in my car, driving to work or heading home, and I can’t stop to snap photos.

Maybe tomorrow.

(Or what we bought at yard sales)

The only way I could get a photo of the lithograph without having a glare of reflection was to sit it on the floor in the hallway… So, yes, it’s a weird angle. The good news is that Michael’s had a 55% off custom framing coupon in the newspaper today. Oh wait, JoAnn’s had a 60% off coupon and Michael’s will honor that… so this is getting reframed ASAP with non-glare glass and a nice wooden frame. Paid $5 for it and found one online that just sold at auction for $50 – same lithograph series, but “nicely framed”. So I don’t consider that this is worth $50 (but it will be after I get it custom framed this week). It is titled “Mount Hood’s Reign” and is #315/1,000. It is also autographed down on the matte by the artist, John Paul Braman.

I love yard sales like that.

The first yard sale we hit had a lot of strange stuff and boxes of “free” stuff, wherein I picked up a CD of Gregorian Chants (I know, strange – but it’s actually kind of relaxing) and a little St. Anthony pendant on a silver chain. I’m not anything close to Catholic, but I liked the chain & it was free. I also picked up some clothes there: a couple nice blouses and a pair of Italian leather shoes that have hardly been worn.

But the big find was a certain pedestal bowl. I saw the same bowl at work last week when a co-worker brought hers in to serve fruit in. I coveted that baby! But I neglected to ask where she found it so I could look for one like it. Enter the yard sale. I looked up and Donald had this in his arms:

Well, sans the fruit. He just had the pedestal bowls in his arms and looked quite protective of it. I was just floored: it is identical to the one I was drooling over at work last week! $3. How did Don know I would love that?? It’s so perfect.

A silly montage of some of our finds – the pewter tea pot is pretty cool. It was marked “antique” but I don’t know if it is or not.

That is the only identification mark on it.

The tin square was one of those things that the seller tossed in to a yard sale and didn’t expect to actually sell. But I knew where it would go in my yard the moment I spotted it.

The side of the shed looking over my prayer garden (which needs flowers).

All in all, it was a pretty good day yesterday.

🙂

For some reason (stress, probably), I woke up tired and achy all over and lacking in ambition. It’s been a stressful week at work and Monday is another big day, so I think my body is just rebelling. REST! REST! REST!

Unfortunately, Saturdays are usually big days for me: shopping, cleaning, laundry – all that boring stuff that I don’t get to except in passing during the week.

I sure didn’t want to do any of that today!

As it happened, my dearly beloved husband was sitting around the house with not much to do and the newspaper in his hands. He just happened to read about some plant sales happening today, starting with a hanging basket sale in the park two blocks over, to benefit our neighborhood association. (We’re not members of our neighborhood association, but they do things like raise money for playground equipment, hold a huge Easter egg hunt, host a neighborhood barbecue & picnic, and so on. We’ve attended some of the events.)

We meandered over to the park & I picked out my Mother’s Day gift a week early.

I do this every year and I kill them every year, but I can’t help myself. I need flower baskets.

From the park, we decided to drive by a yard sale. We figured it was a drive-by yard sale because the signs were huge and you know that yard sales diminish in size and quality according to the size and quality of the signs advertising them: the bigger and more obtrusive the sign, the smaller and less interesting the sale. This one proved to be a good yard sale – I’ll post pics of our haul tomorrow. $18.

We then drove down to the Stephens-Crawford House plant sale (to benefit the museum). The plants all looked like they were hastily dug out of someone’s yard and potted. I felt sorry for the ladies running the sale and spent a dollar on plants.

Pearly Everlasting starts (I’ve always wanted to try to grow them down at this altitude; now I have starts) and some sort of sedum for the hot and dry spots in my garden beds.

We then planned on checking out the Oak Lodge Garden Club’s plant sale in the suburbs of Portland. But first, we had to check out one more yard sale. My camera battery died, so yard sale photos will have to be posted tomorrow. Here’s a teaser: we picked up a limited edition lithograph by artist John Paul Braman for $5. I love those kinds of deals.

The Oak Lodge Garden Club’s plants were in better shape than the Stephens-Crawford House sale’s were, but most were of plants that we just have no use for in our yard (or that we already have). The exception was the hellebore I bought for a buck. I love hellebores…

What the sale lacked for in plants, it made up for in artwork for the garden: original artwork, some of which I think I can duplicate once I figure out the glue the artist used. Whimsical garden decor made out of old bottles, glass insulators, pieces of china and copper tubing. I have nearly all the supplies necessary and what a great use for old bottles and glass insulators!

There were also some interesting pieces of fused glass garden hangings & wind chimes by artist Denise Weinberg. She doesn’t have a website. But she was present and I had a wonderful time getting to know her. All of her fused glass creations come from recycled glass. Most of her glass came out of the flood of 1996 when people along the Willamette River had water pouring into their homes, destroying patio doors and the like. Denise breaks the glass & refuses it. I like it because it isn’t the normal fused glass look.

From the Oak Lodge sale, we went to a neighborhood nursery. That was very profitable: I picked up two one-gallon containers of hostas. Not one hosta per container, but several per container – another great deal since hostas sell for around $6 each everywhere.

I bet they’re gorgeous when they bloom!

Now that I’ve lined up all kinds of yard work for myself, I need a good warm weekend in which to work in the yard.

One of the things I love about April is the changing of the guard. Clouds, I mean.

The clouds move in and back out so quickly!

The flag furls and unfurls.

It is never a dull show.

Start this blog post out with a heavy sigh. A very heavy sigh.

The stupid song sparrow.

That’s the culprit, right underneath that big white arrow. He thought he was hiding from me. But he kept singing, so it wasn’t all that difficult to follow his bragging voice.

He is sitting in the camellia tree. And I know why he’s sitting in the tree.

Why is in the background where the big white arrow is pointing.

That is a nest.

That is the same ill-fated nest the song sparrows used last year.

Last year, when the fledglings were big enough to tip out of the nest, guess who found them first?

Me, actually, but not in time to stop Murphy from chasing down and picking one up in his mouth. He didn’t really kill it; it died of heart failure. In my hand.

I cried. A lot.

My husband said (stupid man), “It’s just a bird.”

That made me cry harder. I know it was just a bird, but it died. In my hand.

“The dog was just being a dog.”

I know that. A cat is just a cat, a predator just does what a predator does. But it died. In my hand.

So here we are, a full year later and the stupid song sparrows are trying it again. In the same nest, in the same yard, with the same dog on patrol.

This will not end pretty.

Why can’t they nest in the rhododendrons out front?

Oh yeah: the neighbor cats will get the fledglings. At least in our yard, there’s a fleeting chance the fledges will fall from the tree during the day when the dog is in his kennel and they will find their way to safety before he’s out in the evening. At least, I hope so.