The sledding hill studded with footprints from a few brave souls, the garden glittering, capped with domes of snow--it's bright with sunshine and frigid temperatures in the negatives this morning and climbing now to single digits. Inside, the kids are watching Saturday morning TV, Beatrix is on a chair watching Martin flip pancakes, and NPR is whining out some filler jazz.
Last night I had a wild dream about a bird who chased me around a hotel. I'd seen the bird--an orange-feathered, sharp-beaked, rather pretty, rather large avian--about to steal eggs from a little mama bird's nest. The entire tree was full of unattended nests just waiting for this orange thief to pilfer. I knew I was messing with nature, but before the defenseless eggs were broken and scattered, I rushed over and waved my arms at the orange bird. And then he turned on me. The remainder of that section of that dream was spent trying to shake the bird from around my feet, which he seemed to be obsessed in snapping up like worms.
My friend T, whom I like to call Sonya in my columns, would have known what to do. She would have taken care of the whole situation by whacking the crazy bird with a big flashlight--or she would have blown the crazy thing away, if it were dangerous, with buckshot, and then planted an acre of garden, put up ten bushels of cherries, whipped up a pancake and sausage breakfast for fourteen, mended her daughter's toys, and hung out a fresh load of laundry, all before heading off to work for the morning in the OR. It's her birthday today. That crazy country girl deserves a happy break. All the best, dear Sonya. You're wonderful.
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4 comments:
You forgot shovel snow from the mile long driveway! :-)
Thanks for the Birthday wishes...I'm having a good day!
Sonya
I think being able to remember strange dreams is from your Finnish side.
Your Auntie recounts some doozies, and so does your Uncle Ken.
Just last night she told me she was at a Ladies Club thrift sale (she knows some women in this existence that are members)and she ate half of a leather coat. Yum!
I topped her for once, as I seldom remember my nocturnal journeys.
I met the actor Robert Conrad (James West from the Wild Wild West).
I seems he was in actuality....Satan!
He attempted to lure me and other unsuspecting fans to the nether world by revealing that (your folks will appreciate this) Hell is in reality...
A Starbucks!
"You can get a double Mocha Macchiato!" was his line. No one bit, and then I thankfully woke up.
I don't know, Uncle of mine. I think I might have been tempted on a snowy day like this one. Do they have mildk fat choices in hell, or is it all skim?
Does Auntie need a little more protein in her diet?
No skim from what I hear.
What would be the point?
Fiber is probably the answer for your Auntie.
And we did drink a glass of Red wine much later in the evening than normal.
Yes, one glass!
But we ain't telling what size!
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