Little Treats

Since this babysitting gig began, one of my morning rituals has been to take the Bonnie Wee One for a morning walk where I walk and she rides. No matter how whiny she might be before our jaunt, she always settles down with delight and anticipation as soon as we set her in her little push-car thingie.

For the past two mornings, I have picked her two daffodils and have been quite surprised that she clutches them for the whole walk and into the house where Cuppa took this picture.



We don't have to walk far to see this glorious sight because it's right on Thesha's front lawn. This bush is not a beautiful sight for most of the year, but, for a week or two in spring, it is an absolute eye feast. When I go close I see it being swarmed by many busy little bees.

A baby clutching dandelions and beautiful pink flowers: what a treat! Life can be great.

Bird Brain

For the second morning in a row, I have witnessed a bird brain in action. As I sat in the living room gazing out of the window wondering what happened to the sleep that I had been enjoying so much before I was so rudely awakened, I saw this robin being very silly way across the street. S/he would sit on the railing and fly into the window (follow the path of the red arrow in the photo). Again ... and again ... and ... so on ...

This used to happen to us back in Sarnia too. There was a demented robin who would fly himself into our kitchen window, hour and hour, day after day. Cuppa took to hanging tin foil pie plates and other miscellany, and those items or time caused the silly bird to turn to other pursuits.

It's always robins, never any other birds in my experience. I've had a few budgies in my younger days, and they always seemed to possess a certain intelligence. And we surmise that parrots possess some smarts because they can talk a blue streak.

You've heard the old saying, "I must have been around the corner when the looks (or talents or whatever) were passed out," but methinks that the original robin was around more than a dozen corners when bird brains were being distributed.

Grampa's Bond

A few months ago, I posted a few blogs about Grampa. That spurred me into doing a bit of genealogical research (a bit, I said) on other ancestral lines too. I made some notes at the time but haven't gotten around to doing anything with them except for a brief post about my grandmother's family all being from Kent, England.

At the time, I thought I was done with my memories of grampa, and I suppose that I still am, but one other item has recently come to mind: the $500 bond that he willed to me.

Five hundred dollars was quite a lot of money back in the late fifties. I suppose if cashed, it could have provided either rent or food for about six months and may have purchased one-quarter of a new automobile. I'll leave it up to reader to figure out what sort of equivalent amount that might be in your present situation.

It was a church bond for their building fund, but it came due a year or two later, and Mom thought we should turn it into another bond in our new, little, neighbourhood church. They met in a school, and Mom thought they needed a building and that my inheritance would spur them on — as if! As it turned out, they didn't quite get it but saw it as a gift, so it was goodbye to these funds. I didn't mind that much; I hadn't used it, and I was happy being a kid — so whatever — easy come, easy go. However, my mother, whose brainwave this had been felt an obligation to me and eventually saved $500 to replace what was lost. I think I spent it in our first year of marriage in 1969.

However nice the money was, it was the fact that Grampa remembered me that came to mean a lot to me. No other grandparent did the same, nor did my only uncle of whom I was very fond. Even my father left me no remembrance except to pass his millions (lol) to me if my mother had predeceased him, which she didn't. Although I never carried a huge sense of loss over not being remembered by these people, I was also someone disappointed at being overlooked. It wasn't a windfall that I was looking for, but an acknowledgment of some sort would have been nice.

However, now that I am the one who requires a will, it's easy for me to understand how it works. It's easier to leave it all to the spouse and trust him or her to pass appropriate remembrances along because you really don't know what the financial situation will be when it's your turn to shuffle the mortal coil. Situations change, grandkids are born, and new partnerships formed, and one simply wants to have a will that works for the long haul because they're too pricey to change incessantly.

Nevertheless, I have always been pleased that Grampa found a way to remember me the way that he did.

Silent Sunday

Quirks? Me?

I have posted several odd things memes in the past, but I have been tagged by Amanda to describe six unspectacular quirks. That's hard for someone who is spectacular in almost every way, but I'll try. (said with humour doncha know)

I sometimes eat breakfast standing up. I really don't have to because I'm seldom in a rush in the morning anymore. But why not stand after being prone all night? It's not like I'm worn out yet.

I may sleep in three different beds/chairs in one night. Well, I may not actually sleep in all of them, but I might very well try.

I'm a finger-licker: my own fingers, I mean. If they feel dry, I find myself quickly passing my finger tips over my lips. I think I started this when I was teaching and was often handing out paper and trying to separate sheets. I now apply hand lotion frequently in order to fight the dry feeling that leads to licking. It's not a terribly healthy habit, eh?

I almost always wears socks during the day, even on a hot day when my feet are shod with sandals.

I am addicted to Diet Coke. I follow my morning coffee with DC. I follow most things with DC. I must address this quirk someday. I have stopped, albeit briefly, a few times, but I always start again because I figure of all the bad habits that one could have this one ain't so very terrible.

I often say words backwards. Sometimes I find myself saying some of these backwards words without remembering (at first) what they mean. I do this backwards thingie much less than I used to. I must be getting old. D'ya think?

I don't usually pass these tags along, but I offer it freely to any takers.

Incongruity

I didn't have my camera or I would surely have stopped to take a picture, but I saw a sign with the following message yesterday.

Hiring Now
Volunteer Firefighters

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Meanwhile, yesterday was a tough one with the little one. Whether she was teething or not, I can't say for positive, but she seems to be and was very very whiny let me tell you. On top of that, the old guy was experiencing yet another relapse day, so it was difficult for all. But we made it through. So far, today is not as problematic, but we are not quite our healthiest and sunniest selves either — neither the babes nor the grand.

Taken In

While it may not be easy to fool Mother Nature, it's pretty well a snap to fool Grampa AC. I took that picture last week while we were out walking. Oh, I thought it was too early for tulips never mind Irises, but there they were so, I stopped questioning. I was so taken with the complementary colours that I thought I must be looking at the work of a master gardener, and who was I to question a master. Even when I posted the picture, there was something that didn't compute. It was as if I could see an odd texture to the leaves, but I reasoned that it was simply an oddity of the photo. It took Cuppa to perceive that the flowers were silk or some kind of fake.

So, I confess to being taken in even though I saw more than one warning sign and should have been able to catch hold of the truth myself. But the arrangement and the context — spring flowers outdoors in spring — were enough to thwart my supposed powers of discernment.

No Grampa Nature, I.