Sometimes The World Seems Out of Focus

"There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go". ~ Author Unknown

This is a post my head knew I would have to write someday, but my heart hoped that day would never come.
It is hard to say the words, or type the words, or make sense of the words or even really believe the words in that most real sense of believing.
It wasn't supposed to be this way... this cannot be happening.... but, I see the sadness in my Dad's eyes and it is real.
Our mother, Nyssa's grandmother and Dad's beloved wife of 60 years, passed away on Monday, July 18th, 2011.

"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break." ~ William Shakespeare

There was a fall, a small fracture in the hip and a three day stay in the hospital for pain control with plans to move to a rehab facility. But the delicate balance keeping her myriad of health problems in check was overwhelmed and one by one, small problems became bigger problems and interventions simply did not work. Three days turned into four and four to seven. To say the end was "sudden" is a cliche... death is always sudden even when expected. Her final struggle was short and now our struggle to live without her has begun.

"And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." ~ Isaiah 35:10

Mom was a woman of faith and that brings great peace, with the promise that we will see and be with her again. Right now, the world seems out of focus, but comfort comes in remembering.... funny stories of events past... first dates and blossoming love.... the kind words of those whose lives she touched...and knowing that her pain is gone, she has been restored to full health and rejoices with the hosts of heaven.

We sang this hymn to close her funeral service of worship and it captures the essence of what I believe.

What a Day That Will Be

There is coming a day,
When no heart aches shall come,
No more clouds in the sky,
No more tears to dim the eye,
All is peace forever more,
On that happy golden shore,
What a day, glorious day that will be.

There'll be no sorrow there,
No more burdens to bear,
No more sickness, no pain,
No more parting over there;
And forever I will be,
With the One who died for me,
What a day, glorious day that will be.

What a day that will be,
When my Jesus I shall see,
And I look upon His face,
The One who saved me by His grace;
When He takes me by the hand,
And leads me through the Promised Land,
What a day, glorious day that will be,

~ Jim Hill, Words and Music

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Finding Her Best Light

Happy 19th Birthday, Miss Chloe!!!!!

"I don't believe in aging. I believe in forever altering ones aspect to the sun." ~ Virginia Woolf

The years pass so quickly and old age sneaks up on all of us; it seems like only yesterday we were starting out in school or our profession or having a child, or seeing a tiny Siamese kitten for the first time. She was the first born of a litter of six and has always played the part well. Miss Clover was "the dark one"; instead of being born white and developing the Siamese mask and tips, she arrived a medium to dark tan and simply grew darker as she aged, with the most marbled deep blue eyes. Clover was always angry at something. Chloe has always been calm and cool and collected, with a passion for grooming and making sure her sitting position is just so... front paws tightly together and tail wrapped neatly around to the front. Nothing bothers her (except for that one time at the vet when Clover threw such a hissy fit, they both got caught up in the drama) and she carries herself with dignity and reserve. This does not mean that she will take any guff off of the other cats. Chloe is now the Grand Dame of the household and commands the respect of ALL the cats... even those bossy ragdolls.

Her sister, Miss Clover, passed away almost three years ago and while Clover was ill and blind, Chloe showed her the way to the food and patiently waited for her to eat first. She groomed and curled up with her, even when Clover was cantankerous and in a foul mood. After Clover's death, Miss Chloe simply returned to the group of cats and her role as eldest diva.

Now, Miss Chloe is 19. She has aged a lot these last three years. Her dark facial mask is fading with rounded circles of light tan above her eyes. She still longs to be perfectly groomed, but does not have the energy for all the effort, nor her sister for cleaning her ears. She battles with kidney failure and refuses to eat the special diet, but she looks forward to her Fancy Feast each day and is holding her own with her weight even though she is very thin. Her eyesight is starting to go, but her hearing is acute. Arthritis has made her gait stiff and her front legs are slightly misshapen by age. She has her favorite bean bag sleeper and still enjoys snuggling with a catnip toy. Most of all, she loves to sleep... or, as here... sit in the sun.

I don't know how many more years.... or months... she has. I'm sure she will continue to live her life with the dignity she has always had and will let me know in her own way, when it is time. Until then, she will soak in all the sun she wants and eat all the Fancy Feast she wants and strike fear into the hearts of all the other cats...
what was that? Did I see a slight twinkle in that eye as she stares down Nicky? I do believe I did!

Happy Birthday Miss Chloe!

(end of post)
Friday's Ark
Weekend Cat Blogging
Camera Critters

First The Storm, Then The Promise, Then The Reward

The storm clouds roll....

'Til The Storm Passes By
In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,
While the storm howls above me, and there's no hiding place.
'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

~ Mosie Lister, 1958

Then the promise......

"Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray,
Each in the other melting."
~ Robert Southey

Then the reward......

"The sunrise is Gods greeting - the sunset, his signature." ~ Unknown

Storms have blossomed each afternoon all week. They appear almost out of nowhere, with wind, flashes of lightening, and booming thunder before the downpours. An inch one day, a tenth the next... nine tenths the next. Slow moving, flash flooding, and still the humidity does not break. A cold front stretches, lazily languishes across the area... asleep. And the storms keep developing. I don't have to water the grass, but the cats hide each day, afraid of the sounds of pounding rain and rolling thunder. Still, after the clouds move on to the ocean... a promise appears in the eastern sky.... a rainbow. Then later, with clouds and storms to the north and south, the setting sun delivers a magnificent masterpiece to the end of the day.

This was July 6th, 2011.

(end of post)
Nature's Notes
Skywatch Friday

Yarrow and Yellow in the Yard

Yellow rose of Virginia.... sorry Texas.

“'Twas a yellow rose, By that south window of the little house, My cousin Romney gathered with his hand On all my birthdays, for me. save the last; And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough, For roses to stay after.” ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh (bk. VI)

In Victorian flower language, a yellow rose meant or was used to convey jealousy. However, in the western U.S., the yellow rose came to symbolize a familiar, native and humble love, including feelings of home and domestic happiness, joy, and friendship.

Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) in my yard

"Thou pretty herb of Venus’ tree,
Thy true name it is Yarrow;
Now who my bosom friend must be,
Pray tell thou me to-morrow.”
~ Halliwell’s Popular Rhymes

The old Myth concerning the yarrow's name sake, Achilles, states that his Mother made a strong tea of yarrow and, at his birth, dipped him in it, thus making him totally invulnerable except for the heal that she held him by, the Achilles Heal. Another bit of yarrow lore declares that if you sew a bit of yarrow into a flannel pouch, place it under your pillow, and say this poem before going to sleep; you will learn the name of your future bride or groom in your dreams.

Placed in the garden it discourages beetles, ants and flies! If a handful is added to the compost it will speed up the breakdown of the plant material. In the garden it is a very good companion plant improving the health of all plants around it.

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ABC Wednesday ~ Letter "Y"

Busy, Buzzing, Bees! Sort Of.

Mine! All mine!
(Click pictures to enlarge)

"The solitary Bee
Whose buzzing was the only sound of life,
Flew there on restless wing,
Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix."
~ Robert Southey, Thalaba (bk. VI, st. 13)

One "busy" bee.

"How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower.
- Isaac Watts, Against Idleness

Drunk with nectar....languishing in the summer sun.

"Give and Take...
For to the bee a flower is a fountain if life
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love
And to both, bee and flower,
the giving and the receiving is a need and an ecstasy."
~ Kahlil Gibran

"Busy as a bee" and how busy the bees have been this spring. We have all sizes from tiny little yellow fellows, all the way up to these giant bumble bees. They have latched on to the hyssops of blue and apricot (agastache), the lavender, daylilies, milkweed, black-eyed susan, and any other plant with anything that resembles a flower. Of course, the lavender and the bee balm (monarda) are the favorite. In fact, each bloom is often covered with two or three big bees at one time. I noticed that even at dusk when most insects are retreating for the night, these bees almost seemed to be in a bee-drunken stupor; settled down in between the blooms with wings folded, not moving even as the camera came to within inches of their heads. Yes, indeed... these two are drunk with delight. It wouldn't surprise me if they didn't stay on the flowers all night.

We had many bees last summer as well, but it seems as if there are more this year. And yet, the black swallowtail and monarchs are still slow to lay eggs on the abundant milkweed and fennel. Could the bees be part of the reason?

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Saturday Photo Hunt ~ Busy (late)
Mellow Yellow Monday

Cycle of Life

Mr. & Mrs. Bluebird... this couple was obviously young... and disorganized.
(Click pictures to enlarge)

"A bird is three things:
Feathers, flight and song,
And feathers are the least of these."
~ Marjorie Allen Seiffert, "The Shining Bird"

Again this year, the bluebirds showed up. They were on time and a group of four or five birds snacked at the feeders and checked out the house. But, they were young... the male was lazy.. and chickadees built a nest of soft moss in one day and eggs were laid. The chickadees seemed distressed and more vocal than usual and I saw the male bluebird look in the already occupied birdhouse several times. Then the crime. Someone invaded the chickadee nest, took an egg and threw it against the bay window of our house. The dried protein dribbled down the length of the panes and a small shell fragment remained glued to the top. Who could do this? I would like to believe it was a blackbird or crow or one of the birds I really don't care for; so I give the bluebirds the benefit of the doubt and say it really couldn't have been them, their beaks are too small to carry an egg. Whoever the culprit was, it was so sad for the chickadees as they have a short nesting season and will not likely have another round this year.

Mrs. Bluebird was more industrious and practical than her mate.

When it was obvious that no chickadee babies were in the nest, I cleaned out the house... washed it... let it dry... and opened it back up for business. It still took this couple almost a week to decide on the place. I think she expected his help in building the nest, but his lame attempts ended up in pine needles being stuck in at the last moment; therefore, they simply stuck up and out the edge of the opening in a random way -- not tidy -- and were no help at all. No, the male spent most of his time fluttering at the window, pecking at the other male bluebird he saw as competition and peering in at us in the den (wanting mealworms). I think she expected him to either sit on the eggs while she hunted for food or bring her food. He didn't do either. I started in with the mealworms and she quickly learned that she would have to feed herself, he wouldn't do it.

Dinner time.

When the egg/eggs hatched, this young couple had to figure out how to feed the baby/babies. Mr. Bluebird fed himself first, downing four or five mealworms before taking one to the chick. Mrs. Bluebird, with true maternal instincts, fed the baby first and only herself after the chick was taken care of. Unlike last year's group, these did not always finish off the mealworms in record time. Whether it was because they had only one baby, while last year's had at least three or not; the result was that other birds became interested, particularly the brown thrasher. After he devoured the remaining mealworms at one meal, they seemed to become better organized and more purposeful in the feeding and took turns flying back and forth from the birdhouse to the mealworms. This couple added one stage, taking the mealworms to the roof for processing before flying them to the baby.

Feeding time... how could one small baby bird make so much noise.

At feeding time, the noise coming from the birdhouse was amazing and loud; it could be heard all the way to the back door and yet, there seemed to have been only one chick. He poked his head up with mouth wide open to get his food from mom and dad and starred with wide eyes at me. A week ago, I checked the birdhouse and there he was with feathers on his chest and looking like he was almost ready to go. Mrs. Bluebird must have told him to get down in the nest when I went to get my camera, for he was not to be seen when I returned. Sunday morning, the bluebirds had their breakfast of mealworms but by Sunday evening they were gone and though I left mealworms out for three days, no bluebirds. I presume they took their baby into the woods to teach him how to fly and to gather food. The feeder has been busy the last two weeks with all sorts of adult and baby blackbirds, blue jays, even finches; parents showing the babies where the food is and trying to get them to eat from the feeder without having to put it in their mouths. Now, it seems the juveniles have learned and the feeder sessions are more normal.

I waited for almost a week, then opened the house and took out the abandoned nest and washed the house. The very next day... yesterday... I came downstairs to the pecking sound of bluebirds pecking on the window and much agitation. Male and female, flying back and forth from the house to the feeder to the windowsill. I don't think these are the same bluebirds that just vacated the premises with their baby as they are supposed to stay with him in the woods for at least a few weeks. Hopefully, it is a new pair.. more mature (although this head butting against the window behavior does not indicate any maturity to the female who continually chatters at him while he is doing it) and perhaps they will build another nest and raise another family. I hope so. I still have mealworms left.

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Friday's Ark
Camera Critters
Nature's Notes