I love blogging on Mondays. I usually take a blogging break Saturday and Sunday and then by Monday I have lots to write about. But yesterday was empty, I had nothing to say, I spent the entire day catching up with laundry from the weekend and matching socks. My mind was as empty as a bucket.
I’m laughing a little because it’s 7 in the morning and here I am typing. I woke up last night at 3:30 full of all the words I missed yesterday….words running through my head, coming out my ears! Keeping me awake. I wrote two “Happy Birthday, Rich” blog posts in my head and considered getting up to type. Then I remembered, “Sarah is sick.”
“I bet God woke me up so I could go check on her.”
Up the stairs I went to my four year old’s bedroom. The light was on in the bathroom so there was plenty to see by. I tiptoed to the edge of her bed and leaned in to look at her face. Her eyes were open and she spoke.
“Hi Mom.” (so polite! my heart melts)
“How are you feeling?” I stroked her hair back to feel for a fever, she was nice and cool.
“Good.” (in that tiny voice)
“How is your tummy?”
“Bad. Can I wake up now?”
“No, it’s 3:30 in the morning.” (not that she can comprehend the hour) “Do you want to go down and sleep on the couch?”
“Yes! And can I have a drink, please?”
She had a drink and I tucked her in on the couch. Her big brother Jacob was asleep on the other end, we have a big family sectional with room for everyone, he was sound asleep, arms and legs everywhere, whistling and snoring like it was his purpose in life. I stood and looked at them for a moment, half expecting Sarah to complain that she couldn’t sleep with so much noise. But she didn’t say a word. She was happy.
It’s this hottie’s birthday today. He is 41 years old. He is currently sound asleep in our comfortable bed and I’m hoping that he sleeps and sleeps and feels 21 when he gets up, because that would make him happier than anything. Exercising is a passion of his, consequently he is always and forever feeling some sort of body ache. Currently it is the hips. Truly, “no pain no gain”, but he decided that at the age of 41 it’s age making him ache, not a sign of pushing the limits, a sign of manly manliness.
Bodily speaking, I think he’s coming into his own and getting better and better looking as each year goes by.
Looks are important but of course they aren’t everything.
Here are just a few of his accomplishments: farmer from birth, mechanic, race car driver (1 season), semi-pro football player (1 season), married at the age of 21, insurance adjuster, preacher, teacher, deacon (6 years), singer of solos (now and then), softball player, wrestling coach, speaker, VP of claim at an insurance company (currently), and he has been working for the same company 17 years. In my opinion his biggest accomplishment was fathering seven children, and being lovingly involved in their growing.
He is a hard worker, excellent lover, good provider for his family, kind, generous, honest, adventurous, church-going, faithful, courageous, godly, strong, disciplined, mature, wise, sensible, gentle, and brave.
It sounds as if he has no faults, but rest assured, he has plenty, just like everyone else on this created earth. Someday I’ll do a blog post all about his bad points. JUST KIDDING. When you love someone you only want to publicize his good side, but rest assured he and I both have plenty of very irritating qualities. However, I can brag that this man of mine has never hurt anyone, never broke any laws besides the speed limit, and doesn’t do drugs or womanize. I mean, he actually is practically perfect.
Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote her book Farmer Boy, all about her husband, which I think is the dearest and sweetest thing. Imagine the conversations through the years as he told her his memories and she stored them away to become a book for children.
I have often thought, that if I ever wrote a book, I would like to do the same thing; write my husband’s stories. He has plenty. He isn’t a big talker (we have, on average, really boring conversations…we tend to communicate in other ways…..) but when he starts talking about his upbringing, random injuries, and other adventures, he comes alive and his listeners, mainly our children, hang on every word. Mind you, he keeps the stories short with very little description and no romance, but there’s a lot to be said for good ol’ prose.
As I sit here tip tapping on the laptop, my heart is filled with gratitude for another year of life for my husband. I trust him with everything and cannot imagine life without him at my side.
{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
that time when she was four and she took a handful of animals to a “human concert” (her words)
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17
Dear Emily,
You have been Jacob’s girlfriend for almost a year and I just wanted to take the opportunity to write you a little note, thanking you for who you are and what you have added to Jacob’s life, with your love. I am thankful for you and that God has brought you into Jacob’s life and consequently our family’s life.
The kids adore you. Well, maybe not Ethan, but you know Ethan is harmless and he does certainly LIKE you, even though you take up too much of Jacob’s time and the two of you talk on the phone at night too much, causing Ethan to sleep on the couch at times. He also would appreciate a little less personal displays of attention when he is in the room, right? But yes, despite all that, I know that deep down inside Ethan is also glad that you are Jacob’s girlfriend. After all, you do a great job of turning the PS3 on and off for him.
Of all the children, Sarah especially loves her Emily. She woke up this morning remembering that it is your birthday, and she searched the house looking for things to give you. One of the things she picked out was a ring out of my jewelry box. I told her to color you a picture instead and she said accusingly, “MOM! That’s not a birthday present!” I’m not sure, I might have to take her out shopping, unless you really DO want one of her stuffed animals? She wants to give you Pepper (her black cat with the buggy eyes). She wants to know when you’re going to get here and if we are making your cake. She says she wishes you could spend the night.
I went through some of my photos from the last few months and picked out some of my favorites.
You are such a special young lady, Emily, and don’t ever forget that!
Parker the dog also wanted me to be sure to tell you that he adores you. He’s hoping you bring him one of those dog cookies soon. (woof)
Dad will be home from his business trip around 7:30 so he won’t miss your party, either.
First Christmas together.
family nap time
Parker the dog.
Jacob playing with Emily’s hair and reading her Edgar Allen Poe. She’s wearing his pajamas and hiding from the camera. They have also read Macbeth, the Bible, and I’m not sure what else. I love that they read together.
When she asked him to the prom, on Jacob’s birthday, December 31. She’s having a great time trying on Prom dresses whenever she can.
One day this winter they decided to paint. And they each painted the other’s EYE. Emily painted Jacob’s and Jacob painted Emily’s. It was the most amusing thing to observe them….they would keep looking into each other’s eyes but only as an art subject. LOL This painting is currently hanging in Jacob and Ethan’s room and it’s labeled “Jacob’s Eye. Emily’s Eye.” It cracks me up.
Wearing his sweatshirt.
After a wrestling match.
Reading to Seth and Sarah.
Making brownies after school, giving Sarah a taste of the batter.
I took this one yesterday. Superman isn’t smiling because Superman doesn’t smile. You can see the love that Sarah has for Emily.
Monday was my sister’s birthday and we met each other and some friends for lunch.
After lunch I took her home and she gave me a birthday gift (which was last month…we hadn’t seen each other). I opened the package to find beautiful April Cornell napkins and a tablecloth. It’s funny because I had already eyed these things at one of our mutual favorite shops (Marshalls).
The colors match my much-loved Fiestaware.
And it’s perfect for spring!
**** “I like to think my domestic style is a statement of my ultimate aspiration to create a welcoming, lived-in, loved, used and abused space for living.” Jane Brocket
The music for this post is a rendition of the song “The Road Home”, which was one of the pieces sang this weekend at the New England Music Festival. Unfortunately, I do not have video of the actual performance, but this is one from youtube, which gives an idea of the caliber of singing we enjoyed from Grace and her peers. (they sounded just as good if not better)…….
Grace and Her Weekend of Singing
My daughter Grace is 15 years old now and in the 10th grade. Recently, she tried out for the New England Music Festival and made it, so she has been extra busy with preparations for this important event.
We have three teenagers involved in High School extracurricular events and I feel as though I miss seeing Grace the most. Her older brothers are involved in sports which means during the competitive months I see them performing on a constant basis. But Grace is in music and drama both of which do not have as many performances, but a rather lot of practicing— so I don’t see her until about 6:30 or later every school night. I do miss her very much at times, but Grace is the type of individual who thrives on being busy. She is very much like her Dad in that way, but she seems like more of an extrovert. Although she does like reading and writing, she comes alive around her people, especially her role models (teachers and older students and friends).
I watched her get on the bus Thursday morning at 6:30 for school, with Jacob carrying her suitcase for her, and I felt a little anxiety knowing I wouldn’t see her again until Saturday. Thursday was the day she and the other students travelled to Keene, New Hampshire, for the music festival. She doesn’t have a cell phone so she would only be giving us brief updates using a friend’s phone.
It is amazing to me how much the dynamic of our family changes with just one person away! Each one of our children is a perfect fit into our family, we love them so much and thank God continually for this stage of life when all seven are still under our roof.
I prayed continually, asking the Lord that she would do well and that her cough (left over from a resent bout with the flu) wouldn’t be a problem. He answered those prayers and more; the girls stayed with a host family and one of the girls there was a believer. Rich received a text message from Grace that told us that she and her new friend talked about the Bible and sang together with two other girls. They tried naming the 12 tribes of Judah, sang camp and Sunday School songs, went through all the contemporary Christian songs and artists that they knew, and generally had a wonderful impromptu Bible study during one of their free evenings. Oh it just thrilled my heart to hear all about it later on. There is another girl from our town that Grace loves, her name is Isabella, and she is a believer also, and was on this same trip staying in the same home as Grace. God is so good in these small but oh-so-important ways!
Despite the fact that Grace is busy, she is faithful to attend the boy’s sporting events whenever she can. I thought it was only fair that with all the support the boys get from their parents and siblings with their sports, we should ALL go and support our dear sister/daughter in this special concert that she auditioned for, so I wrote a check for 96 dollars in order to purchase 8 tickets for Rich, myself, Jacob, Ethan, David, Caleb, Seth, and Sarah. We all eagerly awaited the day when we would take our little trip to New Hampshire, and Grace was happy and secure in knowing that her family would be there, enjoying the program.
Rich got a new watch that keeps track of his exercising and also gives him his text messages– and it came in the mail on Friday, which was a huge annoyance because he spent all Saturday morning not getting excited about the day trip, but silently in the corner trying to get his dang new watch all set up! It was a much needed lesson of patience for the rest of the family. Finally he got himself dressed and we got the children ready to go, too. We left the house at about noon and stopped for lunch on the way, at Crackerbarrel. My Facebook friends already saw the picture Jacob took of Rich and I together at the table. While we were sitting there at the table Rich asked me to text him…so I did…and his watch never received it…(can you believe it? after all that!) he was so annoyed. Thankfully, at the time of this writing it is working better, although still not quite right. (technology saves times and wastes time).
In any case, at the Crackerbarrel, four of us ordered breakfast and four of us ordered lunch. I had a chef salad and coffee. Caleb bought himself a new stuffed cat from the gift shop and named it “SeaCat” because it’s fur is blue and green like the sea. It’s one of those Ty stuffed animals that have HUGE glittering eyes. Those are all the rage in my house lately with Seth, Sarah, and now Caleb. Sarah has about six–all cats–, Seth has two dogs. They play together with them and it’s the cutest thing.
David bought jelly beans because he made a candy dispenser out of legos and wanted to try it out. It’s the neatest little thing. You have to insert a coin to get your bean out.
Jacob got salt water taffy.
Then we were back in the car on our way. The whole trip was only about 2 hours. I thought I had downloaded two new books to my kindle but alas when I went to read, I found that they did not download after all, so I passed the time by my iPhone and/or doing nothing. Rich brought his iPad and had the kids watch an inspirational message given by a military man.
We arrived in Keene with 45 minutes to spare and found a delightful BOOKSTORE of all places! We love bookstores and this one was perfectly charming, independently owned, containing new AND used books. I bought a few charming used children’s books (one of which was titled The Doll’s House, and was illustrated by Tasha Tudor). Then we went to the school to find our Gracie-girl again. I could not wait to get my eyes on her.
We already had our tickets, so we got in line, and I kid you not it was probably a quarter of a mile long. We were behind about 200 or more other people waiting to get into the auditorium for this choral concert. David almost died. But once the line started moving we were in there quickly– in the very back of the auditorium, second to the last row. Rich and I sat with Sarah between us and of course her little feet were in the air because she wasn’t heavy enough to keep the seat down. I had her on one side and Seth on the other and it was all I could do not to get irritated with them BOTH asking me questions DURING the gorgeous songs. I finally got through to them that the could not talk during the performance, bless their hearts, the music wasn’t moving to them, but I had tears on my face throughout all the pieces, it was just so beautiful.
I saw my daughter the moment she came into the room. All of the singers filed in quickly and she was the last in line on the stage bleachers. (there was another set of bleachers on the floor) I thought I had missed her and didn’t know how I could have, I thought my motherly eyes would recognize her even from such a distance away. The room was large and we were in the back, but then I saw her and my eyes teared up. Someone had braided her hair for her and she looked so pretty and energetic. She was wearing her glasses, I had been worried that she didn’t have them with her, but she did, and she looked beautiful, even Rich turned to me and said so. We were proud that she was in such a nice big group of singers from all over New England. We were happy for her in achieving this experience.
The music began, and like I said before, the pieces were beautiful. There were God honoring songs, to glorify Him, and then the last piece, a fun and happy number “Skip to my Lou” that made us laugh. They clapped during that song, I don’t know how the conductor kept the beat with all the rhythms going at once.
Speaking of the conductor, I noticed Seth (he is six) “conducting” in his chair as he watched the performance and it struck me that when I watch, I usually see the concert through the eyes of one of the SINGERS, but my small son would have none of that. HE was THE CONDUCTOR! I love it. I never pretended to be a conductor. The pianist, yes. A singer, yes. Conductor, no.
All too soon the concert was over and so we filed out of the room to wait in the hall with about a thousand other people. Finally I saw Grace heading toward us and the first thing she wanted me to do was take her picture with a set of twin boys. The boys were singers who were homeschooled and Grace loved them (in a friendly sort of way). Then she bid me to follow her back into the auditorium so I could meet the manager of the entire festival, who has a deaf daughter. Grace wants to be a deaf interpreter so she immediately began a friendship with this man and they signed to each other. He wanted to show her a video that his daughter’s deaf camp put together of the song, “Happy”. We all stood around and watched it on his iPad and then it was time to say good bye. He said he would be looking for her next year.
I took a picture of Grace with the conductor, Jerry Blackstone, too. He was a grammy award winning musician and from what I heard was very good with the kids. He certainly got them singing beautifully in only two and a half days of work!
Grace chatted to us all about her experience on the way home. We only stopped twice…once at a gas station to take advantage of New Hampshire gas prices and another time to pick up a pizza closer to home, for dinner.
Pictures
the text Rich received from Grace
Jacob and Parker, on Saturday morning before we left….hanging around waiting for Dad to get off his watch.
Ethan petting Sherlock right before we left for our trip.
New Hampshire mountains
the bookstore we found
just a small section of the audience waiting for the singers to enter and the concert to begin
Caleb, Ethan (with headband) and Jacob, three of Grace’s brothers
the program
The last pose of the last number, “Skip to my Lou”
4 large eggs 2 cups sugar 1 teaspoon salt 2 teaspoon almond or lemon extract 1 cup unsalted butter, melted 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour 1 cup sliced almonds (optional) (I used slivered because it was what I had) Preheat the oven to 325. Lightly grease a 9 by 13 pan. In a medium-sized mixing bowl, beat the eggs well, until light colored and thick.
Add the sugar and salt, continuing to beat until shiny and pale yellow.
Add the extract, melted butter, and 1 cup flour, mixing it in gently.
Mix in the remaining 1 cup flour. Pour batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle with the nuts.
Bake the bars for 30 to 35 minutes, until the edges are pulling away from the sides of the pan and they’re a very light gold color. Remove from the oven and cool before cutting into squares.
As we waited for them to cool, we read a few library books……
Then, we went into the kitchen to cut into the cookies. They had baked nicely into a soft, cake like bar, and the smell of almond was like aromatherapy. Unfortunately Sarah wasn’t partial to them. But her Dad and I liked them very much. (the other children are at school, so I don’t know what they think of them quite yet) I especially liked the almonds on top. Because they weren’t mixed into the batter they stayed nice and crisp, as a nutty nut should be.
The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. ~Henry Van Dyke
I am almost certain that the first time I heard of Kombucha was from Eyes of Wonder’s blog.
*********
A few months ago I was at the bookstore with Grace and I randomly found a book in the cookbook section titled Delicious Probiotic Drinks. I sat down with my daughter across the table writing, to browse through it, and liked it so much that I went home and ordered it through amazon. When it came in the mail I once again enjoyed looking through it several more times and felt determined to try to make Kombucha. (the book also contains directions to make kefir, ginger beer, and other naturally fermented drinks)
My friend Hannah-Banana makes it, which made the process seem much more doable. She has the experience and was a much needed inspiration.
I do sometimes make plans to make something (like soap) and never get around to it. I hoped that this wouldn’t be the case with the probiotic drinks. Eventually, after the cookbook had collected some dust, I bit the bullet so to speak, and went on Amazon to order the things I needed to make my first batch. “I want to do this, I’m going to do this, and it may as well be NOW.”
My bag of starter (SCOBY) came on Ethan’s birthday. So I set it aside on the counter (oh no, will I EVER get around to it??).
I felt that I simply must just take the plunge, so using the print out that came with the SCOBY, and my valuable book, I nervously sterilized my equipment and made my first batch on a Friday night. (the 6th of March, day AFTER the birthday).
In a nutshell, what you do to make the drink is to brew a tea solution with one cup of sugar, then add the SCOBY, put cloth over the top and let it sit for a week or more to ferment.
“The probiotics and yeast (the scoby) eat the sugar, which ferments the beverage and results in a drink that is acidic, probiotic-rich, and mildly alcoholic.” ~Julia Mueller
My gallon jar of tea and SCOBY was placed in my closet. It needed to be in a warm, dark, quiet place and after thinking it through I felt that my closet was the best room in the house for such things.
Over a week went by and I started texting Hannah through Facebook (she should live next door, but she lives in Alaska) about when my Kombucha should be done, did I do it right? Should I have used soap to scrub my jar? Should I have used tap water for the tea? She could sense my anxiety and told me not to stress, all would be well.
Indeed, the print-out did encourage saying a blessing over your beverage and sending it nothing but good vibes…..so I took a deep breath to release the stress, checked my jar, took a few pictures to send to Hannah, and she agreed that it really did look as though it was thriving. The SCOBY was growing.
Seeing the new scoby forming filled me with pride.
I put it back in the closet for three more days, when I decided to be brave and try a sip.
I’ve had Kombucha from Target before so I knew what to expect….and my taste-test tasted great!
On Monday night, with Grace sitting at the counter making me laugh, I chopped up a fresh pineapple and bottled the drink for it’s second fermentation.
I took the scoby off the top of the jar with my hands and put it in a glass pitcher with 2 cups of the tea (to use for the next batch), and then poured the rest into the plastic pitcher.
Then I poured the tea out of the plastic pitcher through a funnel into the bottles, in which I had added a few tablespoons of pineapple.
I ended up with six bottles to put back in the closet to ferment. I opened up the first one last night and it was delicious. Um, the kids don’t seem to like it though. Rich had to work very late last night so he has to try it later on today. He’s had the Target Kombucha and I sure hope he thinks our home-brew is just as good, if not better.
Did I mention that it is fizzy like soda? But it’s healthy! Low carb! Pro-biotic! Mildly achoholic! Pretty exciting stuff but you do have to have a taste for it. I’ll let you try when you come visit me, dear local friends. 🙂
I have another gallon of it brewing in my closet and it should be done by Monday. I told Grace that Monday night bottling will have to be our new tradition. It was fun to have her company in the kitchen. Next time I will try a different flavor, too.
A little confession for you: I’m a try-hard Christian at times (more times I care to admit). And then, every once in a while (about once a week) I get knocked to my knees in desperation because I simply cannot be a good girl (no surprise there, why not just learn this lesson??). I open my mouth and the attitude and words that pour forth are shameful. I want to be a good example to my children but daily I fail. On Saturday my heart was rotten, I was thinking wretched thoughts, feeling the most grumbly of feelings…..Rich and I had to run errands and as I scribbled in my journal in the car, I began to cry and the words gushed out to my dear husband….he sensed the despair and recognized it for what it was, condemnation. I was reacting to my failings all the wrong way, by condemning myself and my religion. “What’s the point of being a believer if I have to continually struggle against myself and LOSE?” I cried, “When I discover a fault in myself, or my own faults and sin are exposed to everyone around me I feel so much shame and blame my religion.” Then I get upset because of the time I am putting into self-evalutation and my thoughts run like this: “You have so much pride. You are not a good Christian at all. What is wrong with you? Despair, cry, give up!”
Rich, in seeing the way I was beating myself up, encouraged me to think positively, to remember the gifts God has given to me and the very special ways he has created me. But I couldn’t. It was too much self-focus once again. I took up my daily Bible reading and said, “The answers will be here, I know it. I just need to read this.”
My testimony is this: In whatever situation I am facing, the Lord is right there with comfort, teachings, and rebuke, if only I take up my Bible and read it. If only I see and hear what He has to communicate to me. He is so faithful! This weekend I read aloud in the car about the time that God made Balaam’s donkey speak. An angel was blocking the way and the donkey could see it but Balaam could not. Three times he lost his patience with the animal and beat him in anger and frustration.
Rich told me I was doing to myself what Balaam was doing to the poor donkey. Beating myself unnecessarily. It was so funny I had to laugh. Listen:
“What have I done to you that deserves your beating me three times?” says the donkey to Balaam, and says myself to myself.
“You have made me look like a fool! If I had a sword with me I would kill you!” Says Balaam to the donkey, and says myself to myself.
But then Balaam comes to understand what is happening and is full of remorse, and Rich applied the passage and told me I have to stop beating my ass. (!)
Balaam goes on to say to King Balak, who wanted him to curse the Israelites for him, “God has blessed and I cannot reverse it.”
THIS IS THE ANSWER. Praise God in Jesus that He has saved my soul and there is NO condemnation to those who belong to Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1. My heart sings. He has blessed and in no way is that blessing ever going to be reversed!
Rich reminded me that what I was feeling, that wretched feeling, was my own personal fight against the flesh, which is something that ALL believers face. It hurts sometimes, until we remember that we have the victory in Christ Jesus.
It was pretty amazing, because my testimony continues, in the mailbox that very day….we received this month’s issue of Tabletalk magazine with the main topic this month being SHAME. Article after article, all written seemingly for ME and my heart’s struggles. Food for the soul, truth for the doubting one.
“Jesus lived and died not only for the guilt of our sin but for the shame of our sin.”
“If we live each day bearing the shame of yesterday, and we’re worried about the shame of tomorrow, we will never experience the joys of abundant life in Christ today. Let us lift our weary eyes from gazing upon our shame and fix our eyes on Christ, the author and finisher of our faith.”
“Shame is not the final conclusion we make about ourselves.”
“The end of Christian identity is righteousness, not shame.”
“Shame is made manifest by isolation, self protection, self-hatred, self-destruction, self-preservation, and the illusion of control.”
“Satan’s voice will lead to shame, but God’s voice will lead to glory.”
“Our shame begins to unravel as we see His dear person and know His matchless work to be our own. United to Him by faith through the Holy Spirit, our whole position changes. Redeemed and reconciled to our heavenly Father by the Son of His love, the basis of our true shame is dealt with and our alienation removed.”
So, my own struggle with trying hard is dealt with like everything else is dealt with, through the cross and the gospel. Praise Jesus! I will feel the fight at times, I will feel shame, but I am not left there….He leads me along into the glorious truths of what Christianity is all about, Jesus and His righteousness which He so generously bestows on all who believe in Him. This world is not my home, I’m just passing through……and by grace I will say, like Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7
I wasn’t feeling well on Saturday so Rich took all the children out for a few hours so I could rest. David stayed home with me because he loves spending Saturdays at home in his own little world of creativity and good wholesome fun that involves things like balloons, vinegar, cornstarch, food coloring, yarn, wooden Thomas the train tracks, and empty play dough buckets.
He was so utterly interesting that I got off the couch and sat next to him on the floor. He was attempting to catch a bird. He’s been catching birds for about 6 years now. He doesn’t do it on a constant basis, just when the mood strikes. We had a lot of bird activity at the feeder on Saturday and when David stopped and noticed them, the mood struck once again.
I typically have a terra cotta planter on this little table, filled with sunflower seeds. David removed the planter and put a pile of seed underneath a big play dough bucket. He propped up the bucket with a train track and tied a long piece of yarn to it.
The little table with the bird seed is only about five feet from the side entry way door. The storm door is full length glass so David ran the yarn under the door and sat right on the other side of it with the end of the string in his hands, which were charmingly dirty from other experiments.
I sat next to him with my camera and a piece of paper to jot down his quotable quotes. Everything he said made me laugh.
This chickadee landed on the track and knocked it over, causing a loud groan from Dave.
He went out to set things in order again.
Whenever there was a “misfire” he would go out loudly apologizing to the birds. “Everything is okay….that was supposed to happen!” He wanted to make it clear to the bird community that there was nothing to get suspicious about.
“I love to do this,” he told me as he settled back down with the string in his hands.
He had to get up to brush the seeds completely UNDER the bucket because they were choosing seeds that were in safer locations……”Now they’re dedicated to go all the way under there.”
He was very patient. Much more than I. A bird would come and I would say, “Why didn’t you pull the string?”
“I couldn’t! It wasn’t all the way under. I don’t want the edge to come down on the bird’s neck and break it!”
Hearing this piece of wisdom made it easy to bring the conversation around to the subject of the guillotine. “What’s that?” He asked, with his eyes on the bucket. “When you lay down and they let the sharp metal fall on your neck.” “Oh yeah. I hate those!” I laughed, imagining that this hatred was typical of the whole of humanity.
He was also very careful because if he killed one right in plain sight of the other birds they would never come back around to the feeder, he said.
After another miss, he sat down and immediately another bird came around. He was astonished. “Mom, look at this. Stupid birds, they go right back. Fool birds. That’s what I call them. Fool Birds.”
“I have to wait for one to stall, then I’ll get it.”
“I love to do this.” He was all smiles. “It’s like fishing, hunting, and trapping.”
He caught one.
He took a clipboard (you could also use cardboard or whatever) to put on top of the bucket. He wasn’t planning on holding it but I encouraged him. He was shaking a little as he tried to gently catch it in his hand.
“He is the hero of the woods; there are courage and good nature enough in that compact little body, which you may hide in your fist…….” Ernest Ingersoll
“Thus it is, that in all the lands of snowy winters the chickadee is a loved comrade of the country wayfarer; that happy song ‘chick-a-dee-dee-dee’ finds its way to the dullest consciousness and the most callous heart.” Anna Comstock
The little chickadee was a brave fighter. He bit Dave’s thumb and held on tight.
I got to hold it, too, and then we let it fly away. He caught three that day.
Now that you know how Dave catches birds, you can try it too! Let us know how it goes. It’s a great activity for anyone, old or young.
This morning I found Dave peeling a balloon off of a big ball of ice. He had made a water balloon and put it in the freezer over night. He was surrounded by siblings as he peeled it. It wasn’t frozen all the way, so he trotted it back to the freezer……
Good to be Home 