The other morning I witnessed Owl catch breakfast and deliver it to the nest. I was over the moon. It’s all I could talk about. I showed pictures to everyone who came within arms length of me – even the checkout girl at the store. She oohed and awed but I'm pretty sure she just wanted me to check out already. But she didn’t understand. All year, I’ve been stalking the tree that they hang out in next to our driveway and now I’m stalking the backyard, side yard and nest, hoping to get glimpses of the awesomeness again. Based on last years babies, I guessing that they’ve hatched or are about to hatch and I am dying for a glimpse of that fuzzy headed wonderfulness. I’m not alone. Tuesday, when I went to leave for work, there was this woman parked at the top of one side our driveway. she had gotten out and was standing in the road taking pictures with her camera phone. When I spotted her, she apologized and babbled out in pretty much the same high pitched tone I’m quite familiar with OWL STALKER: I’m so sorry but there’s this Owl and he has a rabbit and I got out to take a picture for my three year old in the car and then I spotted this owl and I’m trying to get a picture and I know you think I’m crazy but I want my little girl to see it so I’m taking a picture… I parked my car at the other end of the driveway, got out and gave her the history of Owl, where the nest was, how awesome they were, that they’d apparently been here for years because we'd found cave paintings in our basement. She was suitable impressed. I was late for work but I was thrilled that someone was a goofy about Owl as I was. Yesterday, I spotted her trolling the street much like I was trolling my yard for an Owl sighting. Because she was shy to pull into the driveway again and I was unwashed, un-brushed and in my comfies, I didn’t wave her in for a viewing and she missed the routine she apparently interrupted on Tuesday. An Owl family morning goes like this: Owl catches breakfast. After making sure it’s dead and he’s not being followed, he calls out softly from a branch across the street from the nest “Who cooks for you?” and lets Mrs. Owl know he’s outside with breakfast. She flies over to the branch to meet him. They talk quietly away from the nest about how the day is going - what the kids are up to, how busy it was at the grocery store, the crazy lady with the camera stalking me - he gives her the dead beastie and then she flies back to the nest. This morning, I watched the two kids from last year, Larry and Moe, out window-shopping for food. Moe flew off to The Mayor of our street’s yard while Larry hung out on a branch above the nest for a bit. Suddenly, he flew- jumped down onto breakfast. I took off out the door, camera in hand for a closer look. Sadly, the crazy lady in her comfies heading straight up the hill with a camera put him off getting the meal ready so he left it and flew up to the tree above the road, where he sat for a bit letting me take a few shots while shooting me dirty glances. When I sat down in the driveway so the cars driving by didn’t get a full look at my crazy hair and unwashed self, he went down for breakfast he’d dropped. He was quite pissed when I stood up and started shooting again. Up into the tree he went again. I finally went back into the house and watched from the window as he picked up his now cold very dead meal and delivered it to the nest. I have never every understood how Uncle sits in the cold wet mornings and takes pictures of birds until now. Though he would be the first to point out to me that he’s showered and washed himself before he leaves the house. I assume, that way people aren’t pointing and laughing and taking pictures of him standing in the driveway unwashed with high bed hair, fuzzy teeth and bedroom slippers. I must remember that for tomorrow…
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Marshall, the garden guy promised he have a quote for me by Wednesday afternoon – last week.
He lied. He has now joined the four #$%@#$% garden guys who have promised me quotes and then done absolutely nothing. Sorry, that should be three – one guy gave me the quote and when I called him to say I’d like to move forward, he told me he’d call the following week. And then didn’t. He lied too. I’m starting to get a complex. I’m starting to think there’s a site somewhere that says folks shouldn’t work for us. That my face is on a flyer on a wall in the DIY stores with ‘WARNING: DO NOT WORK FOR HER’ above my head. That, much like the dogs in Lady and the Tramp, they’ve all been communicating and we’re on the no fly list. When I was dating and I kept running into duds, I was sure there was some Great Wizard laughing at me as he threw me all sorts of wackadoddles as potential mates. I mean, saying “I’m 5’7” on a good day.” when you’re standing next to me and you’re clearly NOT 5’7” or even 5’ even, is just wacky! Then, when I met Husband, I was sure the Great Wizard had a wicked sense of humor. But now, I’m not laughing. I’m not asking much, Great Wizard. My body is too broken to put in a stupid retaining wall. It’s too upset with me to lift 61Lbs. blocks into and out of my car and haul them down a hillside. And my special talent of never getting anything straight is not going to come in handy while I try to lay a block wall, curve it around a hillside and make it so it doesn’t fall down. I’m just trying to find someone to help with that, and putting in some sod and mowing the weeds. He doesn’t have to be a life partner. I have one of those and he’s distracted with his toys and music and taste testing every burger and pizza in Nashville. I just want some nice dude that will do what he says he can, come when he says he will and finish the job. If I were still in California, Mom and Himself, would have helped me knock this out in no time. They would have helped me till the mud and plant a garden that put the neighbors’ gardens to shame. Of course, the neighbors would have pointed and gossiped about “those crazy people doing the work all by themselves” but it would have gotten done. The neighbors are starting to point and gossip about us again and this time, it’s not because we bought that “eyesore of a house” and were working on making it better. Now, I’m sure it’s because they’ve seen the flyer of my face. The Mayor of our street can’t even get her Man over to help. He’s seen the flyer too. I’m pretty sure today will involve me snuggled on the couch with lots of food I shouldn’t be eating and a book because looking outside makes me grumblebitchmoan and the best way to avoid that is by ignoring it. Just like that stupid Marshall did. Sometimes you have to rally on a morning when you don't feel like rallying... So you try and build enthusiasm for the day by revisiting something exciting... On Sunday, Owl caught a chipmunk for breakfast and took it to the nest to feed Mrs. Owl while she sit on her eggs. And I managed to sort of get the whole thing on film. Husband is a MUCH better wildlife photographer. I was a bit too excited to keep the camera steady while chanting "OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod!" while Tigger the Dog freaked out at my freaking out but this is some of what I shot... Wicked cool. I'm now spending 90% of my time watching the nest for activity. And grocery shopping has never been as fun as watching Owl shop for his dinner. There might be something wrong with me that this is how I choose to rally for the day I have ahead of me working with children... but how cool is this?!? Okay, Tuesday, top that!
Dear Robin Roberts –
This is a weird kind of thank you letter. And it rambles - much like I tend to - but it does have a point so please bear with me. A little more than a year ago Husband and I decided to move from California to Nashville, TN. We came out for a long weekend to find a house and within hours of landing, I got my first double take followed by my first “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Robin Roberts?” The whole time we were out here, everywhere we went I was told I looked like you. Folks were so friendly and so eager to chat with me - solely because of my resemblance to you. And chat with me they did. I was stopped a lot! On our trip home, our plane had a mechanical issue and we ended up having a rather scary emergency landing back at Nashville airport. Despite the drama of ‘almost’ dying, Husband and I had a bizarrely good time while we were waiting in line waiting to get rerouted. Everyone on the flight stopped to check me out, making sure I wasn’t you. Then, even after confirming I wasn’t you, several folks took pictures with me and posted them on their Facebook pages captioning them, “Me and Robin Roberts at the Nashville Airport. LOL” The thing I find so fascinating is that while we share some characteristics, we really do not look alike. Apparently there is something in our faces, in our smiles that make folks think it could be you in Target or on the way into Costco or heading into the bathroom. And folks are so anxious, so happy to share with me that little bit of resemblance to you, to have a moment with me that make them feel like they’ve had a moment with you. In the year that we’ve been living in Nashville I have been getting “Did anyone tell you that you look like Robin Roberts?” or ‘spotted’ and pointed out at least once a week and it always made me smile, every single time. And then my hair grew out. I’m currently sporting a rather messy attempt at twists. Sadly, this meant I was no longer getting “Robin Roberts?” every time I went out. Husband started calling me Criss Cross and just last week I was compared to - and this one hurt - Chris Kirkpatrick! I’m sure he’s a lovely man but getting mistaken for him is really not as nice of a compliment as “Did anyone tell you that you look like Robin Roberts?” I was settling in for a lifetime of being my boring old self again and then, Saturday night, sitting at the bar with Husband, a woman passed me, did a double take and then kept walking. “She thinks I’m Robin Roberts.” I whispered to Husband. We laughed and kept on with our evening. Ten minutes later, the woman came back, clinked her glass to mine, smiled and said, “Goodnight, Robin Roberts!” She made my night and ‘you’ made hers. My point? I just wanted to take a moment to thank you, Robin Roberts. Thank you for being the kind of person people are so very happy to think they know, to think they’ve spotted. Thank you for being such a warm personality that people smile when they think they’ve seen you, and still smile when they know I’m not you. Thank you for making my day - my year really - just by being you! And thank you for not being a numpty. Yours truly, “No I’m not Robin Roberts. Yes, I have been told I look like her” ~ ej www.iamwhaleshark.com Yesterday my friend and I took her kids to the Zoo. We zoomed around looking at this animal and that animal as the weather threatened to do the stormy and rainy thing. Despite the nutty cloud cover, it was a perfect trip. We didn’t have to deal with too many school trips with wild and crazy children or rouge preschool stroller meltdowns and we had just the right amount of animal sightings. We even got to see two Elephants taking a mud bath, something that excited us more than the toddlers who were fascinated by the fence. Best of all, not once did we need to huddle from the weather. We patted ourselves on the back for making it home in time for lunch and naps without a drop of rain falling and then both of us spent the afternoon waiting for the clouds to break open and ruin the rest of the day.
But nothing happened. It blustered. The wind blew. At times it was a cool gentle breeze and at times it was a swirly mini-spinning whirlwind. Cherry blossoms spun about creating little colorful tornados but not a drop of rain fell. Until, that is, around 3am this morning when the world opened up and cats and dogs started falling from the sky. As a mostly California girl, I have been thoroughly entertained by the weather here in Nashville. It’s fun to not know what we’re going to get one day to the next. Heck, one hour to the next. I have enjoyed watching the snow fall the day after getting sunburn. I’ve laughed at the amount of times I’ve put away my winter clothes. I’m not too pleased with the poor dead Hibiscus that I carefully took care of all winter in the garage. The Hibiscus I feed and watered that lived happily in the window of the garage and then brought out two weeks ago to enjoy the beautiful warm weather. The poor guys had two lovely days in the sun before the world froze their baby leaves off. I’m hopeful they will rally. This morning I woke up to a tornado warning. A warning is just a ‘might happen’ whereas an emergency is ‘it IS happening somewhere near you.’ A warning doesn’t mean hide in the basement but that doesn’t make it any less ominous. I’d be a bit flummoxed about what I would do were there an active warning when I was due at work. My sense of duty would likely make me put myself into my clown Smart car and toddle out into the muck and try and make it there when I probably should huddle in the doorway downstairs with the spiders and the baby squirrels that we think might still be living with us. Thankfully, the warning has lifted and the cats and dogs have stopped falling from the sky so I don't have to decide today. It's quiet outside now. The Honeysuckle bushes that grow like weeds here are a fantastic pop of neon green, framing the trunks of the trees and making the dark grey sky almost cheerful. Here and there a White Cherry tree and Pink Cherry tree squeeze out their blossoms, a show of hope. Unlike yesterday, there are no Elephants or Giraffes to look forward to in my day but perhaps Owl will show off his might as he hunts for mama Owl as she sits on the nest. Possibilities abound. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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