Amazing August and Post Script

August is unusually verdant and sweet.  It is most often hot and dry and brown.   This was an uncommonly beautiful evening.

From my favorite sunset viewing spot on Snokomo

The colors in the sky were glowing jewels.

Photography Consultant for the evening.

Retirement is wonderful. There is suddenly time for everything - calling old friends and relatives just to say "hi" - taking a guilt-free nap - spending a little money sometimes without feeling guilty - taking a few classes - simply sitting outdoors with the dogs lazing at my feet. The biggest indulgence has been the new corral fence between the house and the barn, which allows the horses to come close to the house. Sometimes all of us are in contented companionship within a few feet of one another - horses, dogs and old lady. It is awesome.

The horses make several trips a day to the new gate to see if I might have an apple or a pear or other treat. Maybe I am willing to groom them. Wally was far up by the barn the other evening. Sometimes, just seeing my horses fills me with a wave of mighty affection. I called, "What's up, Wally?!" He answered but did not bother to look my way. It was his version of "I'm busy right now, thank you very much." He is a character!

A pair of little barn swallows built a nest on the front porch this summer. It took them a few days and a lot of mud to build their nest. Each time I left the house, both birds flew to the same spot on the electrical line. They were agitated and would not return to nest building for some time. The male would then fly around broadcasting a warning. I was sorry to disturb them but I thought they would soon learn that I was no threat. I was 100% wrong about that. Once the eggs were laid, I tried to be quiet and peaceful leaving the house. I would not look at the nest, hoping the little hen would not fly off but it made no difference. I doubted they would be able to hatch their eggs due to their panic each time I opened the door.

The male, absolutely fearless, flies directly at my head, veering away at the last possible second. After the first tiny, newly-hatched head appeared in the nest, the father's attacks escalated into Navy Seal ferocity. He will come close enough that the rush of air from his wings disturbs my hair. He has also flown directly toward my face a few times. I ignore him, hoping he does not miscalculate. I think it would genuinely hurt if he crashed into my head or face.

I am not the only one attacked. The male swallow will not tolerate the humming birds coming to the feeder on the front porch window. They are too close to his family. The humming birds are determined to feed so there are spectacular aerial fights in the front yard each day. I do not know how fast their flight speed is, but they fly so fast I cannot see details of either bird. I just know the swallow is the larger of the two speeding combatants. (I moved the feeder, but it does not seem to make a difference.)

Today new furniture was delivered. The two young delivery men made multiple trips with cushions, pillows and then large pieces of furniture, so the swallow parents were agitated more than usual. One guy was over six foot tall which meant his bald head was intolerably close to the nest of babies. The shorter man, not much taller than me, pulled his ball cap down over his face, crouched low and made a mad dash off the front porch. I had to laugh! Those two little swallow parents slam dunked on that city boy!

The dogs will have to be kept away from the fledglings, so I am paying close attention to the baby birds. So far, they just have that silly "hair" sticking off their heads but it will not be long before they have real feathers. I hope I get to see them leave the nest.

The swallows must be part of a larger extended family because every morning and evening about six or eight barn swallows spend time feeding. The more mosquitoes they eat, the less there are to bite me! The birds slice through the air in large arcs, avoiding each other with ease. Everything is peaceful,green, abundant and beautiful. Baby toads and little frogs are abundant this year and there are a billion insects. I do not think it has ever been more beautiful. I am lucky enough to be home every single day to enjoy it all. Retirement is wonderful.

Filled with tiny occupants

Horrifying post script: I took the camera to the door with me Sunday morning because the little birds had their new feathers and would be leaving the nest any moment. When I eagerly stepped onto the porch, it took me a few seconds to understand what the hell I was seeing. I took the broom to this evil serpent, but it had already consumed all four of the baby birds. I wanted to kill the snake in that moment but I did not. The poor little fierce parents were attacking the snake but it did no good. I do not know if the humming birds were attacking the snake, too, but they were in the air space, like the tiny warriors they are. I am still sick about this.

Sto͞o′pĭd) adj. stu·pid·er, stu·pid·est. 1. Slow to learn or understand; obtuse

There are times I catch myself being amazingly stupid. I was going to hang a framed photo on the wall yesterday. The frame came with a cheap backing that had little rings in the corners. I was thinking, "Dang, that is is going to be difficult getting the measurements for two nails to be the precise distance apart, and level, and the backing will not hold that heavy frame for long!" I realized my stupidity before I put holes in the walls. I hung the photo today with the normal hardware. Stupid, but it could happen to anyone. Sometimes we simply do not use the appropriate area of the brain for problem solving. Other times we are genuinely stupid and there is no excuse.

My house has hardwood floors, a much cleaner way to live in the country, except my "new" vacuum cleaner does not suck the dust off the floor! I have been cussing that vacuum cleaner for more than FIVE YEARS! I have often consoled myself with researching the best vacuums for hardwood flooring. Because it is a new machine, I have not been emotionally prepared to buy another one anytime soon. The dust mop does not work well either due to the texture of the wood. I live with less than clean floors until I can not stand it any longer then I use a wet mop. Sometimes I get on hands and ruined knees with a damp cloth and a bucket of clear water, which is excruciating and I greatly dread it. This has been going on for five years and five months. Something or someone recently took pity on me, probably my female ancestors who simply could not tolerate my stupidity any longer. They intervened and lo, I taketh unto my hand a broom and sweepeth the dust of the earth from the corners of the hearth and there was rejoicing. A BROOM - the oldest housekeeping tool known to primates! There is a damn good reason why brooms are still in use: they work - like magic!

Stupider.

(Out of respect for my children, I will not commit my stupidest to the internet.)

I knew my daughter would have a good stupid photo of  me on Facebook ...