"Welcome to my place to ramble. It's for thoughts, ponderings, questions, aimless tidbits and occasional rantings. It's also for stories, photos, humor and a little old fashioned coffee clatch clatter. Come, pull up a chair and sit a spell."
this little fellar was on my neighbors front porch hanging from one leg and wouldn't fly away. Don't know what is wrong with it. But we put it up in the willow tree. We had just had a high wind and rain emergency broadcast warning followed, of course, by said events. Maybe the bat was out flying and got smashed into my neighbors house and was holding on for dear life. Dunno.
Can you see how sharp his teeth are. It's a good thing I learned about bats while visiting Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. Otherwise, I'd be freakin' out.
Here's the little bugger that made me scream like a little girl. Not afraid but definitely startled me. I chased it into the shed trying to get it's picture and it snuck out the electrical access. Big fat garter snake. Don't know if this is the same one last week. If so, it got FAT.
Here are two comparison shots of Legs. Just to recap...Legs was born around June 13th. I brought him/her home June 16th.
Deciding between my two loves. Handwriting and computer usage. One way causes my brain to stretch and function differently than the other way. Which way is best today? Which way will afford me the most creativity? Or maybe the sharpest creativity. Just the decision itself is enough, on this day, to make me turn away and restlessly wander the house in search of other diversions. But I keep coming back.
Words in my head. Ideas in my brain. Pictures in my minds eye.
Restlessly I sit. Stand. Pick up something and distractedly put it back down.
Whatever it is, it isn't coming today.
As I peer out the window, the lushness calls to me instead. Another creative outlet seeks my attention and hopefully offers more. The smell of the dirt. The breeze of warmth stolen from the last rays of the sun as it vanishes between the walls of Ute Pass. The insistent nudging from the orphan fawn at my feet and the sloppy wet tennis ball gently laid in my hand by my youngest canine child.
Time is passed pulling those green things that interfere with my desired, nutritious plants. Slowly, it gets more difficult to see and I realize, looking up, that it is full on dark. Dusk having chased the sun through the pass.
Sweat dampens my shirt and trickles slowly down my chest between my breasts and saturating the waistband of my yard shorts. The unruly strands and lengths of hair at the nape of my neck are pasted together. A familiar but unpleasant foaminess in my mouth reminds me that I haven't had water in many hours. And the quivering I feel in my hamstrings is messaging my brain that I have spent quite a bit of time bending over unwanted intruders.
I watch for a bit, the leaping, startled antics of the fawn as it chases unseen images up and down the fence. Stotting and bolting. Grooming and spinning in midair. All wonderful things to behold, in the last vestiges of gloaming. I look up to see the fluttery movements of the night in search of dinner. Using their extraordinary talents of echolocation to rid the human world of pesky mosquitos.
I wander back to the house, putting tools away and picking up stray toys.
Relieved of the restlessness, I wash away the remains of my efforts in a hot shower and having the fed the fawn, put the dogs to bed and filled the cats bowls of food, I slide gratefully between cool cotton sheets, pick up a novel and immediately put it back down. Sleep is all I desire now. Wonderful, engulfing peace and rest rolls over me in seductive waves while those ideas, words and pictures find their own resting place in my proteinaceous gray matter.