Stir Crazy Saturday

It's Saturday, and I'm going stir crazy. Like a good and generous mom, I loaned my car to my son when his died the other night. I ride the bus to work every day, so this won't be a problem, right? Then Saturday comes, Dick takes his car to Bernheim for the day, and I start pacing the kitchen like a caged lioness. The clean dishes put away, and the dirties washing, what shall I do now? Did you know Prairie Home Companion has old episodes online? They play for two hours, while I bring my Internet Favorites up to date on the laptop, and review more birding blogs. Dick worked on the downed tree limbs yesterday, and they sit at the curbside waiting for the chipper to come to our street.

What to do now? As a small neighbor girl used to say, "Let's take for a walk!"

I'm amazed at this house. As an OSU grad myself, I wonder how in the world this couple ever got together, since Ohio State and Michigan are bitter foes when it comes to football.

Looks like the lumberjacks made a stop here. Chain saws roar in another neighbor's yard. Look closely and you'll see that she has a small pine sapling growing at the base of this tree. I wondered why she let it get started beneath this huge tree. Now it can thrive with plenty of sunshine.

A bright blue-green eggshell attracts my attention in a nearby park. Just to be sure, I look up for a nest. This must be left over from last year. How did it avoid being crushed this long? Dog walkers did not clean up after their mutts during the storm. The sidewalk is littered with doggy-do piles. Yuck!

My senses focus on nature as I walk. The clouds race before a strong wind and the branches hum along. It's February, the month when birds start to sing again. Ah, there's a Pileated Woodpecker on a mission, with no time to stop and pose for me. The Crows caw back and forth to each other, while a Vulture soars just beyond the trees, disappearing before I can focus the camera. A Cooper's Hawk scurries before the wind and behind houses on to the other side of the street. Song Sparrows, Blue Jays, Chickadees and Carolina Wrens serenade anyone who listens. The aroma of pine perfumes the air. Isn't it lovely?

The park isn't enough to soothe my fevered brow, so I take life in hand to cross the four-lane road to a farm which has resisted the lure of subdividing so far. Melting snow flows across the pavement, looking for a stream to join. Little Goose Creek gurgles with the runoff. Small tributaries reflect the snow untouched by the sun until the temperatures melt the last of it. Power crews gossip among themselves while one man works on the power lines, their trucks idling on the roadside.

Come home and look out the back door. Gold finches bloom like flowers on the thistle feeder, arguing and jostling each other as they look for a prime feeding spot. I experiment with digiscoping, but no photos turn out this time - all fuzzy. Am I not focused on the scope, or the camera? Or are the windows between scope and outside dirty enough to make that much difference? At least I figured out how to get rid of the vignetting. If I had wheels, I could go someplace along the river and try there. Ah well, not today I guess.

I find one of Dick's books on Interpretive Writing, and start to read it. Use active verbs, it says, and stay in the active voice. I'm trying. Do you notice a difference? Binx wants to take a nap on my lap, if I will raise the chair and make a lap for him, please? When I do, he points out that I have been wearing shoes that don't even match all day long, for goodness sake! Well, Binx, why didn't you say something about this earlier?

Hope I get my car back soon, even if I just go to the grocery in it.