My Gorilla's Name is Segasira

http://www.alwaysforeveryoung.blogspot.com/ sponsored a gorilla on my behalf. Segasira is the son of Tuck, who is a 35 year old mountaing gorilla living in Rwanda. Tuck's mother was Effie. That would make Effie Segasira's Grandmother, and I too have a Grandma Effie!

Isn't it amazing how small the world really is?

Thank you, Forever Young, for this very special gift. I'm sure you will all be hearing more about MY Gorilla! What's that you say? Oh, I'm sorry. Apparently no one else here HAS a gorilla who has the SAME Grandma as you do....uh, wait. That didn't come out right.

Positive thoughts, not mean kiddo look at MY Gorilla thoughts....

If you would like your own Gorilla you can check it out online at www.gorillafund.org

Escape to the River

I picked up my bike today (remember the one I bought in December...well, I've been busy) AND I bought a spiffy new hitch rack that will carry either bike without a problem, a purple helmet and some new half gloves. And then, I did something I've never done before.

I drove straight from the parking lot, down to the river trail, and rode my bike before I even took it home. Tore the gloves off the cardboard, put the helmet on, and with no further fuss, rode. Because bikes aren't for sitting around in the garage, they are for riding, and today was perfect. High 60's, no wind.

The trail is lovely, wide, well kept, with no trees for boogers to hide behind. The dredged river is nice too. It has a ways to go before it rivals San Antonio as a tourist destination, but it's nice to see how far it's come. There is even a boat ramp on the river, not too far from the new Dell Campus.

It was a little lonely not to have a friend to chatter with, but it was also nice just to be alone and moving and in the sun.

I came home, backed into the driveway and unloaded the bike. Went down and said hi to Mom and Dad because they were out in the front yard gardening I didn't mention the new bike (both bikes are black, so they honestly may not notice) or the new bike rack. I did talk about riding on the river and how nice it was.

I think we are all learning the wisdom in "Don't ask, don't tell."

Invention of the PVC wine rack

I was trying to figure out an easy, lightweight wine rack for my cellar, one that wouldn't disentgrate in the damp. I decided there is a reason why people install sump pumps and pump them out rather than reseal them. So, the cellar will be what it is, a cellar, damp and cool and quiet. But I need the kitchen space, so it's also about to become a wine cellar.

I am going to get some PVC pipe, cut it to appropriate lengths and glue it (I love glue) all together and create my utilitiarian PVC wine rack.

The size and age of this cellar indicates that it probably was more of a bomb shelter originally than just a storm shelter. Later I think it became a work room for somebody. I will use it to escape the summer heat and yet still be "outside". I will also use it to escape tornados if need be.

I'm going to haul down some water (I have water all the time, but I keep drinking it) so I'm hauling down a few gallons of emergency water and a manual powered flashlight.

I'm also going to post a sign that says "The dogs live here, if you don't like them, go topside now...." because as a child some adult would always complain about my dog when they were in MY cellar and it scared me to think they'd convince my parents to make me put Ginger out. (They never did). Neighbors who arrive without their dogs will be sent back to retrieve them, because, if truth be told, I know and like the dogs better than some of the people.

Actually, I'll problably take down an ex pen and leave it set up for the dogs. I'm going to get comfy plastic adirondack chairs for Mom, Dad and I, but I'll also pile in a stack of other chairs so I don't feel bad about sitting in my comfortable chair while people stand.

I've often wondered where people go when their houses blow away? To shelters? To hotels? I guess I could sleep in the cellar or in the backyard till I could go get my trailer.

Clearly, I'm not current on all disaster prep, but if you have fresh water and light, the rest of the stuff is easier to figure out, and if push comes to shove, we can BBQ a neighbor's dog.

Is Personal Growth Tiring?

Yesterday was kind of a breakthrough day (in a good way) for me, and today I just have zero energy and ambition. I did work out some, but not enough to be this tired.

So, I do see some wisdom in Mom's stickler to routine routine. She gets things done, tired or not. But my way gets things resolved, after 40 years or so of ruminating. Thank goodness the cat is yowling in the garage to be let in, or I might just lie on this couch forever.

Or, I might, as I just did, go let her in and then return to my musings.

So, why is personal growth draining? I can see why stress would be, but growth is a good thing. Of course, sex is a good thing, and done properly, it can be quite tiring as well.

I believe I will plant some onions today. I bought some, gave some to Mom, and will plant some of my own. I don't eat that many onions, but dang it, I wanted to grow some of my own to pull and give to people. It's like Shirley Mclaine's great line in Steel Magnolias, "I don't know WHY I do it, I'm an old southern lady, we grow things in the dirt. It's what we do."

I actually have quite a lot planned. I'm going to grow yellow squash, zuchini, eggplant and cucumbers since I now have a sunny backyard. Mom is in charge of the tomatos. She's going to experiment -plant again in her "cart garden" that she moves around to get sun, and my "high dollar" upside down tomato garden that I ordered "from the computer". We are both curious to see which will work better, and looking forward to the harvest.

But, first must come the spring, and the growth.

Hummingbird Fly Away Fly Away

A pair of hummingbirds has raised a baby this year near my Mom's house, relying heavily on the nectar she puts out for them. Daddy walked out on the porch and found the baby sitting there alone, crying pitifully. I guess he ran into the glass door.

The baby couldn't take off from the ground, so I held him in my hand, not restraining him, just giving him a warm place to get his wits about him. His cries were heart rending, he was one scared little birdie. Two drops of nectar were still on his breast feathers.

One of his wings was extended, but apparently not broken, he was just frozen with fear. I stroked his wing and marvelled at a real bird wing the size of a small, extended paperclip. The muscles and bones were visible beneath the feathers.

Yes, there were feathers so small it was ahard for my brain to register that they were feathers. Emerald green feathers, with longer, perfectly formed flight feathers. Part of my brain was running down a checklist-broken bones, look at the pupils (tiny little pupils), heart rate....hmmmm it probably should be faster but how fast? The other part of my brain was in complete and utter shock and this marvelous minature creature.

The parents dove around, clearly distressed. Hummingbirds are wary little creatures and they didn't like my interference. We have watched them investing their daily lives into raising this chick. He tried to fly out of my hand but just couldn't get the lift he needed, so I picked him up again.

We sat on the porch, this little hummer and I. "Be calm, be calm" I told him with my mind. I don't think words are terribly comforting to a wild creature. I did think about a camera, I wanted the camera, but I didn't think that was best for the task at hand.

After a bit, I took him the the feeder and offered him a drink. He didn't seem interested. I thought that if he could get up on the perch he might be able to take off from there, since they don't usually start on the ground. Now I have had parrots step up on perches, but this perch was the size of a spaghetti noodle and the bird could not have sat on my finger if it wanted to. So I just moved the palm of my hand under the perch and waited for the guy to step up.

Like any other bird, he stepped up with one leg and left the other in my palm, unsure of which way to go. I just waited and he finally got in the perch.

When we checked a few minutes later, he was gone-not on the perch and not on the ground. So, I guess it worked.

While holding the bird, the thought came to me that sometimes that's all we need-a quiet place to sit and be safe and gather our wits. I am honored to be that place for that bird, it was a miracle that few people get to behold. Sometime the best help is to do or say anything, but rather just be there.

Thank You Mother Nature

The scene: me sipping coffee eyeing the wreckage of my living room and thinking "no matter where you go, there you are...." and composing yet another diatribe on messiness and my upbringing and justifying it by saying that I accomplish things besides cleaning. Good stuff, you can read it later. Because I got a sign.

I was looking out the window trying to focus my eyes and I noticed something glinting in the pine tree. The pine tree was planted by the first husband of the lady that died here, she loved it and I am leaving it alone. But, I digress. Back to the glint.

My first thought was trash, but that I realized I was looking at a bona fide sign. A rather large snake had shed its skin. It either climed the tree to eat the baby birds in the nest, or momma bird brought it to feed to feather her nest. Since the skin was newly shed, I'm going with the snacking/shedding theory. But I digress. Back to the sign.

I grabbed my camera and snapped away, praising Mother Nature for giving me this clear signal to shed my skin-drop the past. Just in case I missed it, the residendt dove (probably her nest) scolded me too.

Yes there is a huge differnce between wallowing and reflecting, and I was starting out my Monday by dipping my toes in the mud of a well used wallow. Shed your skin-let it go.

I don't get many bona fide signs, so this one really excites me. And, having a big old snake living in my flowerbed is fun too (I am pretty sure that's where he makes his summer residence, or maybe under my shed. But I digress.


I got a sign. Shed your skin. Let it go.