Bonding Over Buzzards

     No, I don’t have a morbid fascination with buzzards.  And no, I haven't moved to a desert.  I would like to observe, however, that it was very weird when last year, within a couple weeks' time, I had a very strange second sighting of buzzards in my area…a little too close for comfort. I wrote one entry called “Omen, Anyone?” where I shared a picture of two buzzards who had landed on a cross on top of a steeple. Strange as that was, weeks later, we were headed home when the kiddos and I saw two buzzards perched in a birdbath in front of a small house. “What are those!?” we all resounded. As we got closer, I couldn’t resist but to slow the car down for a better look…and besides, no one was home at the time (I hoped). Realizing that they were the same type of ominous bird I had seen earlier, I laughed then mused, “Well, isn’t this coincidental?”


     Being one that believes I have to prove what I’m telling, I ran home to grab my camera in hopes that no one would return to this quaint little home, and that the buzzards wouldn’t make their grand exit until I could make it back. As luck would have it, they were still happily (can buzzards exude happiness?) on the birdbath involved in some imaginary conversation I had projected upon them. (I think one of them was telling the other, “Paparazzi! Can you believe this lady? She actually went all the way home to get her camera!” I was only brave enough to pull over on the opposite side of the road and snap a couple of quick pics.

     The fowl must’ve decided that they could get a mile out of this ole gal after they had given me a yard. The next day, they weren't there.  Suddenly, two days later, they appeared again, this time, closer to the house. This pattern continued and, in the coming weeks, we began to notice that there hadn’t been a car at this house in quite a while. Oh yeah…you imaginative types already had your creative juices flowing before I got to this point, didn’t you? You can imagine the stories that began to grow in that little car on our way "to and from" every day. Of course, we always used reason…well, most of the time.

     Finally, the brave little scavengers had made it onto the porch! That’s right. They were comfortably and confidently hanging out at their new vacation/love shack/"dead person must be inside" house. We kept the trusty camera in the car and flashed a couple of see-it-to-believe-it photos when they were spotted. Finally, one day, they were no more…they had moved on…flown the coop (sorry – corny, I know, but as my friend says…God just made me this way).

     Now, as interesting as this story is…it doesn’t end there.  Recently one of our co-workers bit the dust to retirement, so of course the position had to be filled. Upon chatting one day and getting to know the new person, I was sharing with her where I lived. When I stated the street name, she exclaimed, “Oh, yes! I know that road! Listen, I have the funniest story about driving down that road.” I couldn’t help but stand there, mouth agape, as she recited to me how she and her family had been riding down that particular stretch of road and saw…these two buzzards sitting in a bird bath!

     OMW!! (Oh my word!!) I laughed and laughed! She looked at me as if I’d lost it…I mean, finally lost it. I told her to hold on and grabbed my camera. I began to scroll through the photos and she began to laugh and share with me that it had unnerved them so that they had called the sheriff! (I hate to admit it, but I think we had all thought of that as we passed by – never any cars at that little house, scavengers inhabiting the yard and porch for weeks, then suddenly…gone. (Oh, please! Like you were thinking it!)

     There haven't been any more scavenger birds and there's almost always someone home now at the little house on the side of the road.  Wonder if the sheriff ever found anything…hummm?  I also wonder what the buzzards are talking about as we speak, “Hey Alfred (is that a buzzard name?), you remember that time we had those people going…man, we even sat on the porch just to freak ‘em out a little.” “Yeah, Sherman, that was a good one!” And who would’ve thought two co-workers could’ve bonded over buzzards.

So, Where've You Been (a sad monologue of self-loathing)

Yes, I've been absent from the blogging scene for a while.  Thank you to those of you who continued to let your presence be known (to let me know I have a blogger-friend or two) by leaving an occasional comment or just right out asking, "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Well, let's just say that a much-needed blogging siesta was taken.  Life sometimes throws you off a little, you know - like, when you are walking along nicely on the sidewalk and all of a sudden you accidentally step off the curb and you do the "jelly ankle" thing and pray that no one saw you and you try to recover with looking really cool (if you're a girl, maybe brushing your hair away from your now reddened face and looking like "how in the world!"; if you're a guy, you...well what do ya'll do? Maybe a swagger thing or something.).  Oh well, the great thing about getting thrown a curveball is learning how to catch it and play the game with grace, skill, and sportsmanship (jelly ankle, swagger, and all)! 

I am not ashamed to say that faith has brought me through so many things in life and it is that same faith that is bringing me through now.  Just when we get ready to sink into our big pity chair (not to be confused with "potty chair") surrounded by oversized pillows that we burry our head in and scream, God lifts our face and says, "Wait.  It's ok to do that for a time, but don't sit there and give up!  I didn't create that in you and we are just gonna sit here for a while, scream or cry or just be silent, take a deep breath (eat some chocolate - I really am convinced that He must like it since He led someone to create the heavenly stuff, right?), and prepare to get back up and live.  We have stuff to do, places to go, and people to see."

I want to share something that has spoken to me lately, during one of my more whimpy days.  Seems like words like these come your way when you need them the most.  In fact, the night that I read these, it was truely as if I could breath again. 

God, Master of Union and Disunion, teach me how I may

now walk alone and strong.  Heal my wounds; let the scar tissue

of Thy bounty cover these bruises and hurts

that I may again be a single person adjusted to new days.

Grant me a heart of wisdom, cleanse me of hostility, revenge and rancor,

make me know the laughter which is not giddy, the affection which is not frightened.

Keep far from me thoughts of evil and despair.

May I realize that the past chapter of my life is closed and will not open again.

The anticipated theme of my life has changed, the expected story end will not come.

Shall I moan at the turn of the plot?

Rather, remembering without anger's thrust recalling without repetitive pain of regret,

teach me again to write and read

that I may convert this unexpected epilogue into a new preface and a new poem.

Muddled gloom over, tension days passed,

let bitterness of thought fade harshness of memory attenuate

make me move on in love and kindness.

(Source Unknown)

I simply share those words today because I don't believe that I'm the only one who needs a little encouragement from time to time.  Thank you to those of you who have been such a positive little ray of happiness to me.

Grateful for my Lord, my family, and my friends (which many of you are considered),

Andrea

Christimas Wishes!

Just a quick note to say that I haven't fallen off the edge of the planet...yet!  I am planning on returning from my extra-long leave of absence soon.

I wanted to take this time to wish each of you a very happy, warm, & blessed Merry Christmas!!!

Love to you all!
Andrea

The Creatures from Outer Space (a.k.a....My Back Yard)

I have mentioned before that I live in a rather “rural” area. As long as I can recall, there has been this strange noise that permeates the air during the sweltering summer afternoons, a symphony of sound that is as strange as some of the cousins that come out of the woodwork during a family reunion. It is this strange swelling of a noise like none other; a buzzing, but more rhythmic and musical.
What, you may ask, is all "the buzz" about? (OK - so that is such a cliche, but it fits so well!) Cicadas! After doing a little (very little) research, I found lots of facts about these guys, but don't worry - you aren't in for a science lesson (I'm not Annie the Science Gal), but I couldn't help sharing some of the more interesting ones.
1. They are NOT locust - despite what some people around "these here parts" call them. I would even say they are a little "friendlier" than locust, but a little uglier (not that anything that can fly at you, jump on you, wiggle, gnaw, or creep, or crawl is ever something I would be attracted to, but, hey, bless their hearts, like me, they can't help how they were made!).
2. They grow a shell that they shed and leave behind, similar to some types of crabs.
3. Only the males make the loud "caterwauling".
4. Some people even eat these things. NO-I HAVEN'T, I'M NOT GOING TO & I DON'T HAVE A "MEMAW" THAT FIXES 'EM UP JUST RIGHT FOR THOSE AFOREMENTIONED FAMILY REUNIONS!
5. There are different types - 17 yr, 13 yr, etc. They bury into the ground and only come out every 17, 13, or so years. (Which leaves me with the mystery of why I hear them almost every summer. Maybe there's some poor confused little pod of cicadas that makes the occasional late appearance - I can so relate!)
OK - enough facts. On to why I'm sharing this wealth of information. These "aliens" (just take a look at the pics) form outer shells and then crawl out of the top of them, leaving behind a very strange looking form. When I was young, I can remember being so afraid to touch them! I was terrified that the shells weren’t, in reality, dead and would miraculously/wickedly come to life after I picked one up and attack me! If you’ve ever handled one and had it "cling" to you – you know exactly why that thought might've crossed my mind! Their sharp barb-like legs prick and grasp you like an Velcro needle!
A couple of weeks ago, my son came running into the house after finding one of these bizarre little bug's former inhabitants and eagerly suggested a cicada hunt. So, we all trekked to a group of towering pine trees in search of the mysterious spoil. Looking up, inspecting the bark, we found shell after shell of the creepy little flea/crab/grasshopper/alien-looking insects' casings. We gathered quite a few and decided to line my son’s shirt with them. He said he looked like a decorated army general of some strange planet. I agree! When I was a little girl, we would decorate our own shirts or hats with them or wear them like rings on our fingers (so gross (and sometimes painful) but, hey, cheap jewelry!).
It was fun putting them on yesterday and sharing that memory with the kiddos.  Being a part of their memory-making and just enjoying the simple things in life.  No Nintendos, Wiis, TVs, texting, or hi-tech entertainment (aside from the camera)- just ...time spent together, actually talking, laughing, and listening.  Here are a few shots of our captives.

This guy looks like he is almost ready to "escape".

A little bugger preparing to come out of his shell.

My little alien army general being decorated!

This is what the shell looks like - you can see where they make their exit.

They look like they are invading!

So...anyone up for a cicada hunt? There's still plenty to be found! We’ll be glad to lead you, and it’s a whole lot more fun than a snipe hunt.

The Four Seasons

No, this is not a blog entry on the luxurious hotel. But after discussing the heat of summer in my last entry, I was reminded about something that I said to one of the roofers. I made the comment that it seems, here in Mississippi, we experience the best of all 4 seasons. When it’s Spring, you see all the plants in bloom, the weather begins to warm up, we get a decent amount of rain (usually), and there are beautiful colors everywhere. Everything seems to come to life (including allergies - oh, sorry, this was supposed to be positive).
When the summer begins to bounce into being, we get lots of (as aforementioned) heat and humidity, but when the weather is cooperating, it can be an extremely nice day. You want to be out soaking up the sun, swimming, skiing, etc!
Then fall appears, the leaves begin to change some of the most beautiful colors – yellows, reds, browns, oranges – it’s simply amazing. Winds begin to blow in a crisper air. A more mild, cool temp pervades as the leaves then begin their descent. And sometimes you can catch the smell of people burning leaves in their yards (this can be good or bad!).
Winter rages in last, with really cold temps that can occasionally fall below freezing. You want to bundle up to go outside. We may see it get down to the negatives a couple of times (and, hey, you people up North and in Canada – don’t burst my bubble! I know I ain’t seen nothin’, as “they” say, but you know, it's just as good as Antarctica to us -LOL!). Here, the warning of snow or ice (and we have actually seen an ice storm or two) sends people rushing to the store to buy up milk, bread, and water. (I’ve never understood why those three, exactly, are the necessities. For me, common sense would say water (yes), bread (ok), but add meat, AND CHOCOLATE! OR ANYTHING SWEET!! And batteries! No one ever thinks to get batteries!) At any rate, we always pray for a white Christmas, rarely get one, but see the white stuff a couple of weeks to months later.
So, what’s it like where you reside? Where you grew up? I told one of the roofers that there was no way I could make it up North – I wear a jacket in the office here during the summer if the air’s turned on for too long. Go ahead, say it! WHAT A WIMP!
So I guess we COULD say that I have stayed at the “four seasons” - if we really stretch this. Well, who would’ve guessed?

Guess What? It’s HOT!

Summers in the South…well they’re hot and they’re humid. They are sticky; they are draining; they are saturating; they are smothering (worse than your Aunt Matilda's Christmas hug!). Did I mention that they're HOT…and HUMID! I’m sure that many of you have seen or experienced the extreme heat wave we seem to be having nationwide. Now, I haven’t studied up on this, so I can’t actually make such a statement as “record-breaking”, but, guys, IT’S HOT! Most days are hovering around the upper 90's. But we’ve seen numbers like 103 with heat indices of 115. Yes, I know that those numbers may be relatively common for people living in say, Arizona, California (shout out!), Hades, etc. But, there’s one thing we have here that certain areas of our nation don't seem to complain about – HUMIDITY! It’s just one of those things that you can’t explain – you just have to experience it to understand it!
For a month or two now, we have had a number of fellas working on a roof project (yes, I am going somewhere with this!). After seeing 2 or 3 companies walk off the job, we discovered the reason. Their complaint – the heat! They said there was no way they could stand the heat and humidity – that they had never experienced anything like it and simply couldn’t finish. Needless to say, one group finally came riding in on a white horse (named Dodge!) and saved the day. They claimed the same thing…never had they experienced this kind of weather. But…they were the only ones who stayed and completed the job. So kudos to them!! And thank you very much, gentlemen. Sorry that it was such a miserable job, but we appreciate it all the more!
Let me try to explain, for those of you who may have never known such an experience, what a hot, humid, Southern summer day is like. You have the heat, it’s quite hot, actually very hot. There’s no wind, no breeze (and you thank God if you’re walking down the sidewalk and someone opens a business door and you feel a bit of air! Might even duck in for a minute or two and pretend to look around! No - not me - never done that, myself!). So you walk out of your front door at 7:00 AM, and are hit in the face, instantaneously, with a wall of heat. OK, let’s say you walk outside and you feel the heat hit you in the face at the same time someone takes a steaming hot blanket and throws it onto you and drenches your hair, your face, and your clothes and you have to carry that sopping blanket around all day – THAT’S SUMMER IN THE SOUTH!
As much as this sounds like a complaint, it isn’t. I am thankful for the days I spent running around as a child in my neighborhood, playing while carrying around my sopping wet blanket, too stupid to go inside and cool off, listening to my father's perverbial warning, "Stay in or stay out!". So we stayed out until we had to come inside because we were all the shade of lobsters, hair glued into Ed Grimly position by the perspiritory wipings of the brow. And there was always that neighborhood kid that had a pool, but never invited anyone over! Yeah, thanks, dude. That's why you never knew where our secret clubhouse was! Then, FINALLY, someone's mom would always pull out the POPCICLES!! Thanks, MOM!
I guess everyone has something about the area in which they live that they either love or hate - something that makes the place endearing. I don’t hate the heat, but it would be nice if it would cool off just a bit. Maybe I'll stick my head in the FIRDGE for a while! Maybe pass out some POPCICLES! WANT ONE? I call grape!

Hilton, Schmilton - I'm Stayin' Here!

Driving through town, I couldn’t help but notice this sign outside of a local motel.  I pass it daily, but have never taken the time to actually READ it. (So much for their advertising efforts!)  And yes, I DID go back later and discretely snap this pic after my mind got to running rampant with halarity.
OK – just reading at face value here…is NEMAX the extra-strength, turbo version of the standard enema? And we all know that a motel room is just not a motel room without all the modern conveniences like a FIRDGE.   Those amenities add to the motel that would normally fall below standard, making it a 5 star dream.
Maybe this is actually the cheaper version of a day spa for those dreaming of colonics and saunas. Maybe this is the working man – the blue collar version – Lord knows it would be all I could afford. Maybe I’ll book m’self a day – a day of all out pampering complete with N EMAXES and FIRDGES! But for now, I guess I’ll just dream.